Set amidst the outsider worlds of present-day downtown New York, 1990s Los Angeles, and 1940s Mexico City, "Like Son" is the not-so-simple story of a love-blindness shared between a father and a son. Born a bouncing baby girl named Francisca Cruz, Frank Cruz is now a post-punk thirty-year-old who has inherited his dead father's wanderlust, unrequited love, and hyperbolic tendencies.Felicia Luna Lemus is the author of the novel "Trace Elements of Random Tea Parties" (Farrar, Straus and Giroux), and her writing has appeared in various magazines and anthologies, including "A Fictional History of the United States with Huge Chunks Missing" (Akashic Books). She currently teaches writing at The New School and lives in the East Village of Manhattan.
When you read this wonderful book--and I hope that you will--you will discover that (Gawd, I hate to sound so cliche) . . . that transgendered people are people too. There, I said it. The author's trick in this book is to take for granted that being transgendered is no real big deal in America anymore--so in a way then this is a kind of postmodern presumptive novel (did I coin a new genre?). It presumes that if you are a female-to-male transgendered person that the most improtant thing in your life is NOT what particular plumbing you have below the waist these days, but in how you will pay the bills, connect with your blind and dying father, reconnect with your Mexican and family heritage through a photo found in your grandmother's Bible, make amends (if any) with your psycho mother, and convince your divinely beautiful but flakey girlfriend not to run out on you again. One test of the author's great skill is that when the narrator talks of his life as Frank, the reader becomes quickly convinced of his non-effeminate maleness, and vice a versa when he/she is/was Francesca. Perhaps the most beautiful and touching passages in the book are in the scenes with Frank taking care of his dying father. What the author, Felicia Luna Lemus, is doing is defining her book by the strength of its plot and its writing and not by exploiting the sexuality of her male protagonist who (oh, by the way) used to be girl. In the hands of a lesser artist, this would have been a great opportunity for sleaziness the likes of which would make Rikki Lake blush.
When I picked up this book I was pretty excited, and although I could feel engrossed most of the time, overall I wouldn't say this book does much other than tell a story I've already heard and in more interesting ways. The writing is mediocre (no, it's not a good idea to use a cliche and just have your narrator acknowledge the cliche, that's bad editing), sometimes entirely too obvious, and although simplicity can sometimes benefit a writer, it just doesn't work here. For the most part. There were moments I enjoyed (which is why I finished the book). Was the narrator supposed to be a misogynist? I think we were supposed to love him as some sort of anti-hero, but I hardly found that to be the case. Should I be worried about what bordered on an abusive relationship? I thought so. Where did their community go after they met? It seemed to be entirely lost, much like the point of this book was lost on me. But maybe that's the point -- there is none -- but with a novel that wraps itself the way Like Son did, I highly doubt that is what the author intended.
Meandering and at times improbable (you bought persimmons at the Union Square farmers market? Really?) this book is nevertheless a quick, engaging read. Frank and his father are both well-drawn; one wishes the same courtesy had been extended to the female characters - at least the ones alive in the present. Neither Frank's mother nor his girlfriend appear to have much purpose in life except to cause emotional crises for Frank. The poet/idol and Frank's paternal grandmother come out a bit more rounded, ironically, since they are both convenient dead icons for Frank to project his own emotions and thoughts onto and thus actually get to have emotions and thoughts. That said, the way in which gender and racial identity exist for Frank as real factors in his life without being The Big Message seems to me well-handled.
The problem with this book is the same problem you find in a lot of the Art of the Other - a silenced group is so glad to have something that speaks in their voice that they're willing to overlook that it's not very good. This book is horribly written, with utterly uninteresting characters and no compelling narrative. I kept reading because there are few novels with non-gender-normative characters (see, there's that hook again), but when it was finished, all I was left with was, "That's the ending?"
A good book I happened across at the downtown library. It was recommended by Eileen Myles and Michelle Tea, but I did not let that prevent me from reading it. It was worth it....the trans character was written about without a constant mention of their trans status....and the girlfriend reminded me so much of an ex it was creepy. Good story...
I really, really wanted to like this book, but honestly, it was quite boring.
Though, it is refreshing to read a book about a trans character that isn't all about gender stuff. That being said, I expected more from the story itself.
Frank (formerly Francisca) hadn't seen his father for over 20 years when he gets a call from him announcing that he's dying. Frank decides to take care of him, and because his father is not only dying, but now completely blind, he decides not to correct him when he calls him Francisca. His father left him an unusual legacy, part of which leads him to seek out his insane, estranged mother. She refuses to let him in the door, and thrusts a wad of money at him. Frank decides it's time to really break away, and leaves that night for New York, where he slowly starts a new life.
When he meets Nathalie at a party, he is swept up by her beauty. She comes home with him that night and doesn't leave. Ever mercurial and usually unwilling to talk about things, she keeps Frank happily at her beck and call, until she disappears one day.
Except for a couple of scenes, it's hard to remember that Frank once lived as a woman, and it's nice to read a novel where the protagonist's gender identity and change isn't the focus of the plot.
I liked this book,it wasn't the best I've ever read, but I got pulled into the characters. Like Son was an interesting look at growing into being an adult, that sometimes what what we want in life is rather normal, even if we have defined ourselves as 'freaks.' Frank has to deal with his family and an imagined past, loves and fears. How do we get to where we want to be in this world. It seems like Frank and Nat's journeys are really just starting. On a side note, I am so glad that authors are writing the lives of trans people without having to talk about gender all the time. I am sick and tired of stories of trans folk and their gender. I want to hear about trans people and their lives, which like this book are about so much more.
Not without its virtues - liked that it was a narrative with a trans male protagonist but wasn't entirely about transitioning - and some of the place descriptions were good. It's written like a conventional plot-driven narrative, though, but nothing happens in the plot and I'm not convinced there was any real character growth, either. A lot of the plot elements felt fantastical in a poorly researched sort of way, and the narrative perspective is frustratingly tight - we're trapped inside Frank's head for the entire story, and he's not a particularly insightful character.
the story was as annoying as Nathalie, the object of the narrator's affection...trying too hard to make connections between his life and that of Nahui Olin, a predecessor to Frida Kahlo apparently, the author told a story that I was only able to get through because I hate leaving books unfinished...my only motivating factor was to find out what happened at the end only to find that nothing happened at the end...
I had mixed feelings. I struggle with the typical crazy femme I keep encountering in queer fiction. Where are all the queer femmes who financially support their partners and aren't emotionally manipulative? What I liked best was that the characters just happen to be queer/trans and while that isn't tangential it's not central to the story either. The writing style is beautiful and rough in a queer-vegan-anarchist way.
This book has all the ingredients for a good read (FTM trangendered Latino from California moving to NYC after the death of his father) but fell flat. The main characters quickly became annoying. I have enough self absorbed, self pitying people to deal with in real life, so why should i care about these characters? Ugh.
With characters that are highly underrepresented in literature and all the potential this book had to tell an interesting story, I was really disappointed that I didn't like it. The narrative was awkward/clumsy, and it felt like the characters and storyline never developed fully. I stuck it out to the end hoping it would get better, but it never did.
Intriguing and I feel like I must have missed some of the symbolism or metaphors or something like that, because it ended so abruptly with the reunion between Frank and Natalie, his manic pixie dreamgirl. It had a mix of lyrical and confusing writing, but moved quite smoothly.
While I did worry about Frank, his decisions were so erratic (perhaps to mirror Natalie's), that I couldn't quite keep track or see the logic behind it. And maybe that was the point...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book tells a story that is often left untold in contemporary literature. For that, I commend the author. However, there were times that were a struggle to get through due to overdrawn description of emotions. Despite this, I would still recommend the book overall.
An honest and revealing look at a journey through Hispanic-American culture, contemporary love and the navigation of personal and gender identity. The characters are complex and intriguing.
I had to read this for a class. It was pretty boring and didn’t really have a storyline. Some of the story elements were also weird and felt unresolved/unexplained.
i wanted to like this book, but it was seriously flawed in its construction. it's the story of a young trans man. he has a bit of a stormy relationship with his father, who was largely absent while he was growing up, but they re-connect soon after the protaganist transitions & the dad is starting to feel his mortality. eventually the father gets sick & the protag takes care of him while he dies. after the father's death, the young man finds his inheritance: a box full of love letters exchanged between his parents during their courtship, & an old photograph of the woman on the cover, who is a mexican poet & radical feminist. the young man discovers that this poet lady & his grandmother had some kind of youthful affair & maybe were the OTP (one true pairing). somehow this inspires the young man to ditch claifornia & move to new york, & this is where things fall apart. within like three pages, the dude meets some woman at a party, & i don't know. she sounds fucking obnoxious to me, like natalie portman's character in "garden state," but frillier. i'm just not into frippery & ridiculousness. i am attracted to practicality & efficiency in prospective dates. if i wanted glitter & flowers everywhere, i would have been a raver or a party planner. anyway. the next thing we know, this pair has been together for seven years. huh? & then 9/11 happens. huh? & the girlfriend flips the fuck out & disappears in the middle of the night & won't tell the protag where she is--only that she somehow feels the need to help survivors of 9/11. what the fuck is going on here? then the girlfriend comes back. & then she leaves again. & this is all supposed to be really emotionally wrenching & horrific. i mean, it eats up literally half the book. but i just don't care because this relationship wasn't built up at all & i'm still thinking that the girlfriend sounded annoying just from the party scene, let alone all these ridiculous flights of fancy to help 9/11 survivors. & there's an occasional foray into the past, with this poet lady making out with the protag's knocked up grandma, & i'm like, wait, what in the fuck is happening? did i fall asleep somewhere? is there an editor or a competent novel plotter in the house? the language is pretty gorgeous, & the basic elements of the story could have been pulled together into something really compelling, but as is, it's kind of a hot mess. three stars was a touch generous.
Felicia Luna Lemus gave us a beautiful piece of writing called Like Son, the story of Frank (born Francisca) Cruz, his lover Nathalie and the picture (cover picture of Nahui Olin) and other facets of their lives that have profound influence over them.
Admittedly, I don't tend to like "slice of life" plots. The story here does not live up to the author's skill in character development and overall writing because too much is left hanging in the balance. For example, the sex between Frank and Nathalie is an important part of the book, yet it is never mentioned that Frank doesn't have a penis. It would be interesting to learn how Nathalie and Frank navigate his actually being female, whether from a physical or an emotional perspective, but it is never discussed. How could this not be an important part of their relationship and of the story? In ignoring it, I am assuming that the author is saying that gender doesn't matter, but I thought it needed to be addressed, even if it was the ignoring that was the focus. Also, I wanted to know more about Nathalie's disappearances. Why? Why come back? Would she leave again? There was nothing but frustration for the reader in Frank's relationship with his Mother (though the author deserves praise for fleshing out the Mother character in the smallest of mentions and with few, but dense descriptions).
Lastly, Ms. Lemus does deserve recognition and praise for writing a touching, beautiful novel without resorting to many of the gimmicks (non-linear storytelling, using "creative" layout such as blank pages, crazy punctuation or lack thereof, etc.) used by her contemporaries.
I gave the book 4.5 stars for character development and overall writing, but only 2.5 stars for the story itself. I wish there was a 3.5 option for rating.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Well, this book is a book I loved reading. It's about a guy who was born a girl, his dying father, his touched mother (I don't really how to describe his mother, she's nuts really) and his partner of 7 years or so and how he deals with them and feels about them. After the reader meets his father and mother, Frank moves to New York. He and his girlfriend, Nathalie sleep thru 9/11 and their relationship is forever changed. Frank is also obsessed with a photograph his father, on his deatbed, has given him of Nahui Olin, an artist who lived in early twentieth-century Mexico, who inscribed a book of poems to his grandmother that reads: My love, "She went through me like a pavement saw." Yours as ever for the revolution, Nahui
These words and her picture shape his inner life.
The last few books I've read have been about men who used to be women and the subject matter is infinitely interesting to me. This is by far my favorite so far. Frank is such a sweet, well meaning guy.
I want to read it again. But I want to wait awhile and come back to it as if I was meeting an old friend. The separation and coming back together makes life so sweet.
The idea of the book is more interesting than the full package. Frank is 30 and living in post-9/11 NYC. What makes him interesting, or at least SHOULD make him interesting is that he was born biologically female as Francisca, but has chosen to live as a man. He has a complicated relationship with his distant mother, but is most connected to his father, who died of cancer when Frank was in his early 20s. Frank navigates a torrid love affair with a saucy minx named Nathalie, while fantasizing about love affairs that shaped his own family two generations early. Overall, I was never gripped by the characters or felt emotionally involved, which was disappointing.
this has been glaring at me from the shelf for months upon months now. i enjoyed Lemus' first novel immensely for her subtle interrogation of gender, the way her sentences come together, & the way her characters' relationships make me ache occasionally in recognition. i read this in one sitting, & so much of it worked, but good goddamn there were some glaring problems.
i was predictably charmed by the scene when Frank plants a stolen tree in a pothole on some avenue in new york as a romantic gesture to his erratic & kind of obnoxious sweetie, if only because it gave lemus a chance to write the phrase "leafy pothole love letters for the world to crash into."
Don't waste your time with this one. An exasperating example of the fallacy of imitative form, this book had so many potentially interesting ways it could have gone (transgendered protagonist who idolizes his father, a blind dreamer and romantic; a high-achieving but completely dysfunctional immigrant mother; a parallel storyline about a half-Mexican poet/socialite; an inscrutable girlfriend; the 90s East Village scene), and ended up going nowhere. The fact that that was probably the point just made me wanna get my $15 back even more. It gets two stars only because of the picture on the cover.
If I could give it 3 1/2 stars, I would. Wouldn't bump it up to 4, though. Mustn't succumb to grade inflation.
Generally, I found this book interesting enough to finish reading. That's not the case with a lot of books I pick up. The cover photo is really compelling, and it plays an interesting role in the book.
Oh, and it's about lesbians. But it's not a "lesbian novel", which I found very refreshing. It's just about lesbians, and the narrator doesn't bore us with extended monologues about her trans lifestyle.
I think this is one of the best new "transgender" fiction books to date. I really loved the author's first book, Trace Elements of Random Tea Parties, even though I could never convince anyone else of how great it was because the writing was a little too "pomo" stream of consciousness for them. But this one is more narrative, and the same doubters (namely Paige, my sister) have been won over. I highly recommend the book and I find myself hesistant to describe it in more detail because I don't want to ruin it for anyone.
Not enough focus on the FtM bit so I was left with a lot of questions. I applaud being casual about stuff like that, but it really was marginal.
For the rest... I guess I'm not cut out for real literature, because I thought it was boring and pointless. The style was rather inconsistent, with directly talking to the reader like the main character was telling a story, but only in spots, not consistently so. It was probably full of metaphors and stuff I all missed, but I mostly missed the action, and a main char with more depth.
I...I don't think I got it. Whatever there was to get. I didn't get the linguistic energy or pizzazz from her other book and characters. I didn't get the thrust of the story, or the stakes--maybe I am just bored by undiluted love stories? I did get sort of tired of reading a cheesy thing, and then the character telling me that he knew it was cheesy. Thanks, Frank, but I was aware of that, and I'm not sure this counts as personality. I'll stick with Trace Elements, I guess.
What I am able to say about it is that what seem like huge topics from a contemporary point of view (transgendered protagonist, lesbian relationships) are not treated as "major." I quite appreciated that. Lemus approached her character as a person, rather than a symbol.
It didn't save the book, but I did appreciate her subtlety.
This was a very well written book. It's a love story and finding one's family all tied up into one book. The author really weaves together an unremarkable story in a remarkable way. When I first read the jacket, I had a hard time imagining what the book would be like, but it developed beautifully.