The Author wants respect and escape. Kayla wants to exist at all. Repression Queen is a vulnerable and poetic memoir of The Author's life as a gender transformation erotica writer, weaving short horror stories about sex and gender into the fabric of a life lived divided in two. Through vignettes reflecting on personal experiences, a secretive life as a woman online, and twisted tales of gender swapping, The Author seeks to understand why they just can't get Kayla out of their head.
As a bookseller, I can't wait to recommend this title to others. Harper does an incredible job blending her transition story with the stories she wove online during her period of self discovery. There isn't enough room on these reviews to explain how incredible and important the existence of this book is. Thank you, Harper 💖
So, gonna be a bit vulnerable on main here: When I was 10 or 11, give or take, I reasoned that if there were werewolves, could the same not apply to gender as well as species? What legends might be told of people who switched genders on the full moon? What might the experience be like? My interest wasn't prurient, simply the curiosity pre-teens tend to have.
I was then inundated with a whooole bunch of stuff that I was way too young to read. Frankly, much of it was pornographic. Over the years, I developed a complex relationship to it, found genuinely helpful materials from people like Andrea James and media like trans webcomics, but shoved the whole mixture down in a hostile stew of repression and shame.
So yeah, this hit pretty dang hard. Nine times out of ten, O'Neill's metaphors hit home, and she examines her stories in ways she probably did not when she wrote them, giving them new context as a sort of final goodbye. I think "The Cave" was probably my favorite in a lot of ways for that very reason. I've definitely not completely unpacked why [i]I[/i] repressed, so this book was immensely helpful for self-examination, laying the groundwork for why The Author got to living two lives at once in the first place. And though our real-life situations may be different (I only got to escape my childhood home much later, and for not as long, as chronic illness plagues me even right now), the beats definitely echo in a way I think a surprising amount of people, even those with a different life history, will relate to.
O'Neill takes some creative risks in her memoir, sort of adapting but at times it falls victim to some of the old advice about writing: even in the most allegorical of situations, it generally helps if situations feel real. At a few times this feels like it breaks that contract and lifts one out of the memoir, though it could be purposeful at points, as some of the [i]point[/i] is to make the situations unreal, disjointed, murky, etc. to reflect Kayla/The Author's disconnect.
Neither The Author or Kayla can assemble a full life, but they sure do try to pick up the pieces. And the way O'Neill narrates both perspectives shows self-compassion that I'm frankly lacking, as well as a deep understanding of personhood.
If the above speaks to you, read this book. If you're not trans but have ever poured yourself into another word to escape, read this book (though also consider if you might be trans). If you just enjoy recontextualized and revisited work, read this book. It's a wild ride on rough seas, but it's worth it.
This book was more relatable than I'd like to admit. It took me back to all the years I spent coping with the gender dysphoria I didn't yet have a name for by surreptitiously going online and reading erotic stories about gender transformations. Starting from the time I first discovered them around the age of 11 or 12, I was drawn like a moth to a flame, and I didn't know why. All I (thought I) knew was that I'd take this secret to my grave. Even as I've finally come to terms with my gender and transitioned, this part of my past has felt like a taboo that I couldn't and shouldn't address.
With this as my background, I have so much respect for the way Harper is able to examine and recontextualize her past in this book. She conveys the desperation of repression so well. It's a difficult and heavy read at times, but ultimately cathartic for anyone with similar experiences.
Given all the transphobic rhetoric in this country, I thought Harper’s first-hand account of struggling with gender dysphoria might be a helpful educational opportunity to create a dialogue between cisgender allies and transgender folx.
While this book, Repression Queen: A Memoir, does contain erotica, frankly trans-misogynistic unwilling transformation “fantasy”, it is properly contextualized as the one creative outlet that Harper’s inner identity Kayla could find to hold on to as a lifeline — a figurative lifeboat made of words which succored an otherwise drowning yet incorporeal Kayla. By giving herself a virtual voice in the unseemly corners of online TG porn fiction, Kayla finds adoration through her well-crafted creative expression. It is not a book about prurience, but rather how Internet transformation stories enabled self-realization.
The majority of the book details Harper’s lifelong struggle with gender dysphoria and coping with an abusive upbringing, and how repressing this identity not only robbed her of a life in the real world (deadening her marriage and new parenthood as well), but also simultaneously suppressed her true identity due to the wordless incongruence between Harper’s self-identity and the mismatched gender role she was assigned at birth.
The book leads the reader through Harper’s emotionally tortured path to recognition of her transgender status, of her literal finding of the right words to speak her truth out loud, thus opening a door to the possibility of living a life whole and unfractured.
I think this memoir can help cis privileged people to get a glimpse into the pain of living a life stolen by repression, and give hope to closeted transgender folx looking to name the conflicting feelings which they cannot yet describe.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This has a unique voice but felt more like a journal or personal exercise; it failed to convey itself as a compelling story that needed to be told. The narration feels removed, like it's from or about another person or character, not the author. The sense of passage of time was off for me. I wanted to like this, and there are some individual stories that are ok, but a number of anatomically-incorrect bits finally made me check out. (Not anatomically-incorrect on purpose or in service to the fantastical premise; they all seemed incorrect by way of misunderstanding, misuse of terms, or other fixable things.)