Voices from the Margins

A Review of Chris Bohjalian's latest novel, Trans-Sister Radio

by Barbara Dozetos

Chris Bohjalian interviewed three transsexual surgeons as he gathered information for his novel, Trans-Sister Radio, but not all of them. He wanted to leave one person out of the research so he would have someone who could read the manuscript and potentially tear it apart “with surgical precision,” he says.

He sent the manuscript off to Dr. Sheila Kirk, who had agreed to read it for him, and waited for the post-operative consultation. When she called a month later, the doctor did indeed have surgery on her mind, but the patient was not the book manuscript.

“She assured me that she was not offended,” Bohjalian says, “but wanted to

know why she was not scheduled to do my surgery.” Realizing that Dr. Kirk assumed that he intended to have sexual reassignment surgery, the 39-year-old former advertising account executive assured her that he was not in the market for a surgeon.

Dr. Kirk apologized, saying that she knew Bohjalian used to live as a man, because she had seen the photo on the jacket of Midwives, the novel Oprah Winfrey helped bring to national attention by selecting it for her book club.

“When I told her that I had no plans for sexual reassignment surgery and was not a transsexual,” Bohjalian remembers, “She said, ‘Well, you’ve clearly been in the bedroom with one.’” (For the record, he insists that his research, though extensive, was not comprehensive.)

Bohjalian, his wife, photographer Victoria Blewer, and their daughter Grace live in a postcard-worthy 100-year old house in the center of Lincoln, VT. Life for the novelist revolves around his routine of early-morning writing, breakfast with Grace before she leaves for school, and being home to meet the school bus when it drops her off every afternoon.

“I’m absolutely compulsive,” says the self-described ‘neat freak.’ Should one paper be out of place in his library, he finds it impossible to write. His alphabetized and categorized books include an impressive collection of Vermont authors and books he’s used in research for his novels.

He’s well known for his weekly columns in the Burlington Free Press depicting familiar scenes of daily life in small-town Vermont. Tackling his furnace problems and cleaning out the attic are typical fodder for the stories he tells each Sunday.

However, when it comes to fiction, Bohjalian has found his niche far from

what most people consider typical. The margins of society provide the backdrop for his four most recent novels, and he intends to continue writing outside the boundaries for the foreseeable future. He ignores the advice of writers who insist you should write what you know. “Write what you are fascinated by,” he says. “I write what I’m passionate about.”

“The margins are pressing against the mainstream society, and therein lies the conflicts that drive my writing,” says Bohjalian. In the 1995 novel Water Witches, it was the environment versus development. In 1997’s Midwives it was home birth taking on obstetrical delivery. With Law of Similars, released in 1999, it was alternative versus traditional medicine.

Trans-Sister Radio, due in stores on May 9, tackles what its author calls “gender and all the baggage tied to it.” The idea for the novel came from two separate conversations with the same friend of Bohjalian’s. Several years ago, this friend and her boyfriend were expected for a visit at the house in Lincoln. Instead, the woman arrived alone and distraught. Her boyfriend had just days before informed her that he was planning to have sexual reassignment surgery.

“She was livid and devastated,” says Bohjalian. Upon her return to New York City, she asked her boyfriend to move in with her until the surgery, hoping that he would see the error of his ways when he experienced what she was sure would be the wonderful life they would share. He moved in, but it soon became clear that he wasn’t going to change his mind. The couple broke up and went their separate ways.

A couple of years later, long after that former boyfriend had recovered from surgery, the same friend came back to Vermont for a visit. Again, she was alone. “Late one night, over too much wine,” he recalls, “she told us that not a day went by where she didn’t think of this other person.” She lamented the fact that, due to her hang-ups about gender and sexual preference, she would live the rest of her life without the person she was certain was her soul mate. Here was the conflict that fascinated Bohjalian.

The result of that fascination is a compelling novel that at once illuminates a world new to most readers and depicts one with which many in Vermont are becoming acutely familiar.

Trans-Sister’s setting is a town that Addison County residents may recognize as patterned on Bristol. Bohjalian has inhabited his fictional town with characters so believable and endearing that for weeks after finishing the book, it is difficult to fight the urge to pick up the phone to call and see how they are doing.

Trans-Sister has four narrators. Allison Banks is an attractive, vivacious elementary school teacher in a small Vermont town. Will is Allison’s ex-husband, and Carly is their only daughter, in her first year at Bennington College. University of Vermont professor Dana Stevens is the first man Allison has fallen in love with since her divorce years before. Together, the four lead the reader through fourteen remarkable months in their lives. Rather than confusing the reader, the multiple voices give greater insight into the emotions of this story.

Bohjalian is less a creator of his characters than a medium. He speaks of the players in his stories as if they are real people, in some cases dear friends. Dana Stevens is a particular favorite of the author’s. “I always enjoyed her company,” he remembers. “She has a great sense of humor, she’s intelligent, and a great perspective on the controversies she inadvertently creates.” In short, he says, “Dana is loads of fun to hang around.”

The most gripping part of the book might be, as one would expect, the description of the gender reassignment surgery. Using Dana’s wit, the author imparts an enormous amount of minute detail in a tone more reminiscent of Gramma’s chocolate chip cookie recipe than a medical textbook. “I have to admit,” quips Bohjalian, “I had my legs crossed the entire time I was writing that.”

Though the novel is a love story on many levels, it is laced with the pain

inherent in going against societal norms. Allison has to deal with small-mindedness incarnate in the principal of her school. Glenn Frazier, says Bohjalian, is one of the most despicable characters he’s ever channeled. The disapproval barely veiled by insincere concern for her plight hits close to home for Vermonters these days.

The timing of the release of the novel at the height of the furor over same-gender relationships is purely coincidental; Bohjalian began writing it before the Baker case was even filed.

He seems to have a knack for such timing. Water Witches, about a drought in Vermont, came out as the state experienced one of its driest summers on record. “Someone told me I should have written a book about peace in Bosnia,” laughs Bohjalian.

He credits his gift for pushing thematic envelopes to marrying well. “One of the great benefits of marrying into a family of women,” says Bohjalian, “is that they keep me honest. I have four sisters-in-law, any one of whom, on any given day, is happy to remind me that most of the time, I’m a guy who doesn’t quite get it.”