Moving between Grace and Cyrus, Dunham brings us inside the chrysalis of gender transition, asking us to bear witness to an uncertain and exhilarating process that troubles our most basic assumptions about who we are and how we are constituted.
... closer to an out-of-body experience than a memoir, something that makes all the more sense as [Dunham] repeats throughout that they do not feel comfortable in the body or self they have been born into ... Dreamlike and episodic, Dunham’s writing brings readers on a global tour of moments that have defined and remained with them. Their rambles seem destined towards a firm conclusion, only to stop short. By refusing a neat journey towards decision or realization, their memoir’s stopping point can be seen as one of two decisions: to stand at a crossroads, possibly knowing the direction you will go but keeping it close, or to take the typically unseen third path, which blends the two before you.
... can come off as recovery literature...But we have other memoirs that work that terrain. This one’s much better read as an account of generational and intellectual good fortune. Dunham can build on terms they have inherited from earlier trans people, and can also talk and write about the vicissitudes of erotic desire, about how desire affects what gender means.