Writing a funny book is hard. Writing a convincing takedown of one of America’s most popular prejudices is harder still. Writing a funny novel in which complex, imperfect characters make a compelling case for one of our culture’s most maligned groups — that takes smarts and heart. Fortunately for her readers, St. James is in full possession of both.
Delightful and sharply told ... Does not seek to be a comprehensive study of transness (no one novel should have to fulfill that purpose.) Rather, it’s a sensitive but full-hearted portrayal of a community just trying to live freely and honestly without being waylaid by opportunistic hijacking, faux fear, or garden variety hate.
The novel doesn’t feel prescriptive, because St. James explores momentous personal decisions dramatically rather than dogmatically, making clear through a variety of perspectives that there are no obvious choices—only trade-offs ... St. James demolishes the simplistic closet concept, revealing lives that are marked by many transitions, and that pass through any number of gradations within the continuum of showing up, hiding, slipping under the radar, or openly demanding respect.
Deftly captures what it feels like to grow up in the heartland if you don’t feel that you belong ... Mirroring its small-town setting, the writing itself is kind of kooky—sometimes scripted, ever so slightly earnest, and often defying belief—but for the most part, it avoids the saccharine and the sentimental ...
Woodworking doesn’t offer easy lessons. Ugliness and hate rub shoulders with glimpses of freedom, growth, and transformation. Like St. James, I believe in the magic of television, films, and books to transform hearts, and I hope that for readers, her authentic, though fictional, stories might create a little space to counter the lies of those currently in power. It may be that I’m investing too much in the wish-fulfillment aspects of the novel, but it comforts me that South Dakota is able to produce people who are not Kristi Noem and are, instead, Emily St. James.
St. James’ plot moves like a Shakespeare comedy—some contrivances, yes, but all in the service of portraying the prismatic variations of the characters here, both cis and trans, who alternately fail themselves and each other, and work to rescue them back again. Pristinely characterized, this debut novel is by turns funny and heartrending.
