Something That May Shock & Discredit You

by Daniel Mallory Ortberg, Daniel M. Lavery

From the writer of Slate’s ‘Dear Prudence’ column and ‘literally the funniest person on the internet’ (Rachel Fershleiser, co-editor of the New York Times bestseller Not Quite What I Was Planning) comes a witty and clever collection of essays and cultural observations spanning pop culture — from the endearingly popular to the staggeringly obscure.

Sometimes you just have to yell. New York Times bestselling author of Texts from Jane Eyre Daniel Mallory Ortberg has mastered the art of ‘poetic yelling’, a genre surely familiar to fans of his cult-favourite website The Toast.

In this irreverent essay collection, Ortberg expands on this concept with in-depth and hilarious studies of all things pop culture, from the high to low brow. From a thoughtful analysis on the beauty of William Shatner to a sinister reimagining of HGTV’s House Hunters, Something That May Shock and Discredit You is a laugh-out-loud funny and whip-smart collection for those who don’t take anything — including themselves — much too seriously.

Genres: Nonfiction, Essays, Memoir, Queer, LGBT, Humor, Audiobook

256 pages, Paperback

First published February 11, 2020

About the author

Also see Mallory Ortberg and Daniel M. Lavery.

Daniel Mallory Ortberg is the “Dear Prudence” advice columnist at Slate, the cofounder of The Toast, and the New York Times bestselling author of Texts From Jane Eyre and The Merry Spinster.

(source: Amazon)

Reviews

[Emily St. James · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think this might be the best trans (or "trans-adjacent," as Daniel Lavery would probably prefer) book I've ever read? It brims with thoughtfulness, with joy, and with life.

As always, I think I am not as in love with the classics as the author, but I enjoyed watching him discover anew what he loved in them with the new knowledge that comes from transition. And there are certain chapters that are heart-rending and beautiful (especially one about The Golden Girls, of all things). Also it's often very funny? Not unexpected, but there's a brilliance to its tonal whiplash.

Anyway, I won't say more for fear of "spoiling," but I am so grateful that this book exists. I will give it to so many people.

(I should note -- I know Lavery a little. We have had coffee together, and as with all trans people, we are tapped into the great mind tree that connects the many spheres of existence, where we've occasionally run into each other in between sessions battling The Cold Ones.)

[Eilonwy · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you ever read the late, lamented website The Toast, then you’re familiar with Daniel Lavery’s love of literary parody. If you weren’t familiar with that site, then this collection of essays will seem even more all over the map than they already are.

Don’t get me wrong -- I mostly enjoyed this book. But it is very, very uneven, and I’ll confess that I skimmed a number of literarily-inspired essays where I wasn’t familiar with the source material and didn’t feel that I was grasping whatever they were trying to say because I couldn’t see the inspiration or satire.

On the other hand, a good number of essays are about Daniel’s realization in his late 20’s that he isn’t a cis woman, but is actually a transman; his resistance to that realization; and his eventual embracing of it, from starting T to finally using a men’s bathroom. Those essays are written with a wry humor that almost manages to hide the pain and struggle, but also effectively highlights the difficulty of making that choice and really committing to a completely different future than the one he’d spent his life anticipating. They’re brilliant and insightful, and I found them completely relatable even though I’m pretty cis. (My favorite was the aspirational “When I Have Abs.”)

This book is probably going to be most appreciated by people who are trans. But I would recommend it if you know anyone who is trans, or if you’re interested in understanding trans experience.

I really hope Daniel writes another book after he’s been socially male for a few years to follow up on these “getting there” experiences. He has a great voice and a very entertaining mind, and I would love to spend more time inside his head and his world.

[Morgan M. Page · Rating 5 out of 5]

To say, "this reinvents the entire trans memoir genre" would be to completely undersell Daniel Mallory Lavery's Something That May Shock and Discredit You. Rather than a straight-forward transition account, full of its attendant clichés (I have always known, why when I was a child I was troubling gender the likes of which Judith Butler could scarcely imagine!, etc.), Lavery gives us a series of meditations in his signature kalidescope of cultural references - highbrow, lowbrow, and Biblical. Athena was a tomboy and Duckie from Pretty In Pink is a beautiful lesbian, and Danny Lavery is a once-in-a-generation writer.

[Jessica Woodbury · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you are new to Lavery's writing you will find this book either very confusing or immediately and absolutely your shit. I don't know if there's much inbetween. If you were a reader of The Toast (RIP) you probably know to expect a whole lot of very specific revamps of old and new stories and pieces of pop culture. The book's interludes have lots of the Bible, but beyond that go from Pilgrim's Progress to Mean Girls to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight to Anne of Green Gables. But what makes this set of "memoir-adjacent" essays particularly special is the way Lavery sees all of these stories he finds very familiar through a fresh set of eyes as he considers transition and then eventually transitions.

We find ourselves looking at the recurring themes of change and transformation in these stories, tying together Lavery's sometimes arcane interests around his particular worries and dilemmas, taking us through his emotional states related to transition without making it a This Is A Trans Memoir book. It is one moment light and the next heavy, constantly anxious while still bubbling with fun. I definitely cried. I enjoyed how different the essays were and how well acquainted we became with Lavery's personality while not cataloging events the way memoirs typically do.

I read this on audio and I think hearing Lavery's own voice added a lot to the experience.

[Renata · Rating 3 out of 5]

I feel like Daniel Ortberg (now Lavery)'s stuff can be pretty hit or miss with me, and that's fine--I think his ideal audience is probably people who, like. him were raised Christian and/or are trans. There are tons of references that I just don't get, and that's fine, I'm sure they're making a lot of other readers feel seen.

That said, this book is very Christianity-heavy up front, in a way that almost made me put it down. It's not preachy, but I'm just not equipped to enjoy those deep dives into Pilgrim's Progress etc. After some skimming I found myself in more familiar and enjoyable (to me) territory with references to pop culture and/or classical mythology.

Danny is a great writer with a real ability to analyze media and turn witty phrases, and this book can get by pretty far with that, whether or not you're interested in/familiar with the topics he's writing about.

[Mara · Rating 4 out of 5]

The thing that probably fascinates me most about this book as a book is trying to categorize it's genre. I think I would land on a theological exploration of gender told through personal essays and literary pastiche? Which... yeah, I haven't read anything quite in that genre before. That said, the polyphonic quality completely worked for me. I felt like I really learned something about the lived experience of someone different than myself (thematically, this is an exploration of Daniel's transition), and the rootedness of his perspective in the evangelical culture he was raised in completely resonated with me. This was also quite funny, which I appreciated (#CastleMakeOut). The only thing that would have made this just AMAZING would have been a bit more editing. Some of the essays & interstitials worked better than others, and while none were bad, I think the book could have been "leaner & meaner" if only the creme de creme had remained. Still, overall, highly recommend!

[Danielle · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really appreciate Daniel's perspective on being trans, especially since he emphasizes that things aren't always as black-and-white as we make them to be. He has a lot of ideas that I hadn't previously considered. That said, this was really unorganized and didn't seem like a cohesive collection, just a lot of rambling. It's all over the place and that shouldn't be the case for a published work.

[max theodore · Rating 5 out of 5]

my urge is to say that every trans person, or at least every transmasculine person, should read this book, because ortberg is a deft and hysterical writer. but i do need to tell the truth: i do need to admit that this is really a book geared toward my interests specifically. i mean, come on. things this book includes (a non-comprehensive list):

- musings on transition, specifically transmasculinity but also generally
- musings on transition, specifically its interaction with christianity and a christian upbringing
- greek mythology and the classics
- marcus aurelius specifically
- sappho specifically
- a mean girls interlude???
- musings on masculinity in classic literature and also in star trek, kind of
- a chapter called "no one understands henry viii like i do"
- chapters that randomly declare fictional men to be lesbians (something i have made a lifestyle out of doing)
- AN AENEID QUOTE IN THE LAST YARD?

so, like. the friend who told me i had to read this because it is exactly my brand was 100% right and i owe him so much. i had to keep taking pictures of the inside of this book because i couldn't mark up my library copy. that said--i do genuinely think people who are not me can enjoy this. i think people who are not me WILL enjoy this. because ortberg can fucking WRITE, with a combination of poignancy and honesty and self-awareness and comedy that i'm honestly kind of jealous of while also being grateful that i get to enjoy it. i need to read his other work right tf now. (current favorites of what i have read: dirtbag henry iv & the one i can't currently find but it's like "thank you, on behalf of trans women, as a trans man, i am sure the trans women will show up soon but i can't find them rn," [update: got it.]). this is a delightful and emotional book and you should read it, particularly if you like the things above, but also in general because i am by no means the only person who is going to adore this book!

i am, however, the only person who could and has managed to lose and then recover this book on disneyland's "goofy's sky school."

--

2024-5 edit: very very good book to reread while recovering from top surgery. probably objectively four stars for being a little repetitive and wandering, but i love the way his mind works so dearly that i can't bear to knock a star. i love how this starts as pretty much coherent and then becomes Danny Lavery's Wild Ride and i love that his publishers just let him do it

[Bonnie G. · Rating 5 out of 5]

One thing I did not expect going into this is that I would end up with a crush on Daniel Lavery. The way this man's mind works (fanning myself) is knee-weakening for an intellect-hag like me. This is the single best book I have read about gender transition and it is also one of the most engaging collections of essays on religion and/or pop-culture I have come across. I worship the brain that can go from a mind-bending and hilarious analysis of "The Jerk" to an equally hilarious analysis of Hans Christian Anderson (so unpleasant apparently even Kierkegaard thought him a wet blanket, which is saying a lot), to why Gomez Addams is a transmasculine icon to why Duckie and Captain Kirk are lesbians. At every turn this book is funny. Really funny without being cruel or cutting. And at the same time it is honest and touching and deeply personal without being even slightly sappy.

This is a kind and joyful book, showing neither the anger (say Julia Serano) or conciliatory defeatism (say Kate Bornstein) or obstinate refusal to consider the merit of opinions different from the writer (say Susan Stryker) that I see in many books by gender non-binary and trans authors. Lavery looks for the good in people. He understands the resistance of his mother and other family members to calling him Daniel rather than his dead name. He wants to give them space to "make a mistake" of "forget" as they tell him they will. And though he understands, he also knows this is ridiculous, and uses the story of Jacob/Israel to shine light on that ridiculousness, on the lie of the excuses his mother and others are making. But that light he shines is not mocking, it is filled with a beautiful humanity and empathy, qualities so rare these days that it made me tear up a bit.

I saw GR reviews of this from people who apparently have the intellectual curiosity of a ferret and complained because not every word of this was about transition (actually, every word is filtered through a trans man lens, but perhaps that was too subtle) and also those who complained they were bested by bible references, (as if quoting a bible passage to an atheist were equivalent to plunging a wooden stake into a vampire) and I can safely say they are not the right readers for this book. If you are smart, curious, and want to see Mean Girls and gender and evangelical Christianity a whole lot differently than you ever have before, and do not want anger to be the only acceptable response to everything you see and hear which does not confirm your world view, I recommend this book passionately.

[Claire · Rating 3 out of 5]

Uneven but I'd love to read the Golden Girls essay over and over.

[Ashley · Rating 4 out of 5]

“I often described my sudden shift in self-awareness as feeling as if a demon had entered my room in the middle of the night, startled me awake by whispering, ‘What if you were a man, sort of?’ into my ear, then slithered out the window before I could ask any follow-up questions.”

This would honestly be five stars except for a handful of essays/interludes that were too experimental and obscure for me to get anything out of them.

I’m going to keep this review short and sweet for a couple of reasons, the first being that the time for me to have said something detailed, thoughtful, and incisive about it would have been back in late April when I first finished it. That time has now long passed. The second reason being that I’m not sure I would have felt equal to it anyway! Lavery (who was still going by his unmarried name at the time of publication, having taking his wife’s name since then) is an unbelievably smart writer, sometimes too smart for me, to be honest.

This book is not a memoir, and though it’s about Lavery’s experience of being trans, it’s not in any way a recounting of that experience. This book is more about the experience of thinking about, preparing to and then ultimately transitioning, and Lavery processes that through musing on experiences in his life, classical literature, pop culture, and his spiritual history. There is A LOT of Bible in this book, more than I was expecting for sure, and more than I was comfortably able to handle (even in my most Catholic days, I never knew the Bible the way Lavery does). More than once, the writing gets so obtuse and experimental, I honestly wasn’t sure what he was saying. (People have seemed to enjoy the Mean Girls chapter, but for me that was the worst one. I legitimately do not understand what he was saying in it, and that is not a comfortable feeling for me.)

All that said, the parts that I did understand were sort of transcendent. Lavery writes with a painful honesty, and you can see him trying to work things out, but in way that draws parallels and uses words in ways that a lot of authors I imagine would envy. And his style, even at his most serious, is always his style. There’s a wry, wacky humor at Lavery’s core that never goes away (see the quote heading this review).

I highly recommend this one, just be prepared for potential confusion, and let yourself move on if you need to. Something great will be just around the corner if you can’t figure out what’s going on where you’re at. And if you read it and understand the Mean Girls stuff, please come back here and explain it to me. Thanks.

[4.5 stars]

[Amanda Morgan · Rating 1 out of 5]

Have to admit I'm not quite halfway through and I'm giving up on this book. Life is too short for this nonsense.
This review is based on the first 100 pages.
First, I commend the author on choosing to live as his true self. It's evident in this book that's a decision he did not come to easily or lightly.
That said, while I empathize with your struggle, I thought the copious amount of essays regarding this struggle could have been whittled down and perhaps other topics addressed to offer variety to readers. And I am in no way trying to diminish the author's personal feelings here - clearly this is a difficult path for a person to endeavor.
And the random bible verses confused and bored me.
I was just not a fan of the writing style and found the stories to be too random and repetitive for my liking. I won a copy through First Reads.

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 4 out of 5]

A book of writings about becoming a trans man. I was not surprised by the pop culture content, and found some shared experiences with the evangelical childhood content. What I was not expecting was the deep dives on Classical Literature and Philosophy, which honestly I'm not sure I am well-versed enough with to understand all the connections. I appreciated the somewhat shuffling, self-deprecating tone, even if I didn't believe it completely.

[Kirsten · Rating 5 out of 5]

I started reading this at 10pm and stayed up reading far into the night. Daniel Ortberg's writing has a way of seeming flippant and nonchalant while at the same time being absolutely emotionally and spiritually devastating. His last book, The Merry Spinster, applied this to fairy tales and short pieces of fiction to provide insight and expose painful cultural truths, but when he uses this skill to share pieces of his own life and recent transition, it is utterly and masterfully done beyond any words I have in my brain. He made me cry a lot, is what I'm trying to say.

[Gretchen Rubin]

These are essays that are sometimes hilarious, sometimes profound, very engaging on the subject of identity and relationships.

[Georgia · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I have been, and sort of am, a good woman. I could be, and sort of am, a good man. Neither option is forbidden to me, and I don’t believe there is an inherent virtue in, I don’t know, “lifelong gender consistency.” One is not better or worse than the other, and I don’t believe that a shifting sense of identity is wrong, or a sign of unwellness.”

This was so unexpected and so excellent, and falls into my favourite niche sub-genre of memoir meets critical theory meets media criticism. It was touching, and smart, and very funny. It's about gender, sexuality, transition, body image, addiction, gender roles, spirituality, history, and most importantly: which media characters are actually beautiful lesbians in disguise. (The answers are James T Kirk, and Duckie from Pretty in Pink).
I felt a bit lost during some of the more classical and mythology inspired chapters, and some of the biblical chapters too, especially when I wasn't familiar with the references – but I didn't even mind. I was willing to go along for the ride.

“are you up
if so do you want to play frisbee and die for each other
—Hyacinthus to Apollo, ibid.”

There were so many paragraphs and entire pages that had me shouting out loud at how true they were. He found the right turn of phrase for every topic, and described so many things that I'd had no idea were shared experiences. I felt like this book and I really understood something about each other on an intrinsically deep level, whilst also teaching me so many new things. Ultimately this book is so joyfully trans, and so joyfully queer, and it was a joy to read (even during some of the harder passages).

"I had grown comfortable at the thought of my body as a public resource that I was responsible for holding in trust. I had been charged with its maintenance and general upkeep, and on the strength of such a relationship had been able to develop a certain vague fondness for it, while also maintaining a pleasant distance. Don’t ask me; I just work here, was my attitude. I can let the supervisors know when there’s a problem and they tell me how to fix it.”

[musa b-n · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was listening to this rather than reading and thought that would draw it out longer than I would spend reading it otherwise. But I sped through it just as quick! One particular moment that sticks out to me takes place in my bathtub, where I am sitting down in the shower because my legs hurt but I need to scrub my face. I have the book playing on the speaker, and he is explaining a story of two believers crossing a river together, worried about their feet teaching the bottom. He is in the river, feeling the current flow by. I am sitting among a mass of tiny rivers, flowing past my toes to the drain. I think of DBT, and one of the only meditative practices I ever took a shine to - thinking of myself sitting in the middle of a river, and letting thoughts flow past. Noticing them as they rise, and watching them as they go.

Listening to Daniel Lavery was definitely a meditative experience. A lot of it was recursive, presenting a scenario or narrative and then returning to it from many different angles in order to experience it fully while also laying the narrative bare so that all it's questions can also be seen. I appreciated this particularly in the case of many references to media that I had no context for, especially the Bible.

There were certain things that he sometimes speaks about as if they are universal. Not literally - he is an extremely self conscious writer, so he would never make a statement like that without qualifications, but that does make the instances where he does seem to assume that most people's experiences fall in line feel all the more surprising. Two main examples were neck acne and a scene in a movie whose name I now can't remember. Re: the scene, I remember him saying, "Even if you haven't seen the movie, you've seen this scene." But the amount of movies I've never heard of - let alone seen - is without limit!

To be clear, the entirety of this book felt squirmingly personal and seemingly intended to drag me specifically! But instead of making it impossible to read, it instead helped me delight in myself. I loved it extremely!

[Mateo · Rating 5 out of 5]

okay so this guy fucking gets it

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

⇝ 2.5 stars

[Marissa · Rating 3 out of 5]

Like many Very Online Millennials, I came to Daniel Mallory Ortberg* through his humor writing, which is weird and erudite and loopy and allusive and unlike anyone else’s. The same adjectives apply to his new memoir Something That May Shock and Discredit You, in which he turns to a much more personal and raw subject: his coming out as a trans man. But techniques that work so well in short pieces can be frustrating in a full-length book; and in our voyeuristic tell-all culture, it’s a bit disconcerting to read a memoir that approaches its central topic in oblique and metaphorical ways.

Ortberg clearly recognizes that his unique voice is his strength. He begins the book with a (hilarious) list of “Chapter Titles from the On-the-Nose, Po-Faced Transmasculine Memoir I Am Trying Not To Write,” and then steers away from them at every turn. The trouble is that it often feels like Ortberg is so busy trying not to fall into trans-memoir clichés that he doesn’t know what story he actually wants to tell. Something That May Shock and Discredit You skips around in time, spinning out on inscrutable tangents and then circling back to a few major themes. Notable recurring motifs include 1) the dread and terror of acknowledging your desires and becoming who you were truly meant to be, 2) Biblical quotes, and the way that Ortberg’s evangelical upbringing continues to shape him, 3) the ways in which masculinity can be wholesome and inspiring instead of toxic and destructive.

Interspersed with the more personal essays are short “interludes” that riff on literature and pop culture in Ortberg’s trademark style. But it can be unclear how they fit into the book as a whole. Are they “merely” funny pieces for the fans who love Ortberg’s sense of humor—or do all of them somehow relate to his transition? Why is there an 8-page-long Mean Girls riff where the characters are only identified by their initials? What are we supposed to get from the interlude that mashes up Rilke and Looney Toons? Rather than feeling like the interludes were lighthearted palate-cleansers, I often felt they were the most frustrating parts of the book.

Even though I am a cis woman with an uncomplicated relationship to my own gender, I found one aspect of this memoir shockingly relatable. Better than anything I’ve ever read before, Ortberg captures what it’s like to be in your early 30s, with a life that is objectively pretty good, and yet feel like everything is wrong, and fantasize about making huge changes, while fearing that it’s already too late to make such changes. Because if you were meant to be something else, wouldn’t it have happened already? Of course I don’t mean to imply that my early 30s career transition was as sweeping and stressful as Ortberg’s early 30s gender transition; still, it meant that I understood some of his broader anxieties. I can relate to coming up with neurotic, self-torturing excuses about why it would be impossible for you to make a change (“I could not trust my own happiness, such that if transition were to produce a new kind of peace or serenity within me, it would merely be further evidence of my capacity for self-deception, just another setup before an increasingly long fall”) and the relief that comes when you finally take action. “Doubt and uncertainty seemed to leave me the day I exchanged imagination for experience,” Ortberg writes. “Having tested one uncertain theory, I flinch less at the prospect of others.”

I received an ARC of this book from Goodreads in exchange for an honest review.

*I will refer to the author as “Ortberg” in this review because it is the name this book is published under, but in the months preceding its release, he has gotten married, become estranged from his parents, and taken his wife’s last name, becoming Daniel M. Lavery. Following his estrangement, he quickly revised the book, so I also acknowledge that the contents of my ARC differ somewhat from the version that became available for purchase in February 2020.

[Erik · Rating 3 out of 5]

At times cerebral and cynical, while at other times droll and laggy, Daniel Lavery's new queer AF collection of essays, "Something That May Shock and Discredit You," is a thoughtful installation in trans literature.

Daniel came to the realization of his gender identity later in life; at age 30 he decided to begin his transition, though what that means-and what it entails-, is exactly what his stories help him, and hopefully his reader, come to understand better. Each essay interweaves pop culture, classic literature, and scripture (yes, the Christian kind) into a deeply conscientious engagement with being trans, transitioning, and transforming. In what is often breathtaking prose, Lavery uses the Bible to talk about his transition and to also integrate his childhood growing up in a Midwestern, evangelical home. This use of his Christian background in such an artistic and novel way was moving and connected with my own queer, formerly-evangelical soul in a deeply meaningful way. Unfortunately many of these beautiful essays were broken up with too-experimental essays that engaged cleverly, but maybe too cleverly(?) with erudite texts and thinking.

An interesting read that won't leave you disappointed. Pick up a copy, dive deep into the beautiful essays, skim the droll ones, and think a little deeper about trans experiences.

[Ilias · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very good book!! About half of it is a little too academic for me, or relies heavily on biblical allusion which I'm unable to follow, but the other half is extremely poignant! + the parts that I did not understand are nevertheless well-written and pleasant to read.

I admit that I came into the book looking for some insight on what the author refers to as the "t4t" relationship model, + while there is much less in here than I hoped, it did deliver. I would probably be better off reading a memoir of the author's wife, + that's on me.

There's just a lot of pretty piercing personal insight that resonates with me almost accusatorily. Reading this book is somewhat of an embarrassing endeavor? It left me feeling called out in a way that is somewhat unique! To the work of trans writers which I don't read a Ton of, I guess! Anyway, I would like to purchase a physical copy of this book to reference and reread and annotate, so that's a recommendation!

I think maybe based just on how much of it I enjoyed + didn't, it should probably be a 4-star rating, but I enjoyed it a lot + I get to make the rules!!

[Laura Sackton · Rating 5 out of 5]

I honestly can't remember a book that made me laugh so hard and cry so hard. The juxtaposition of weird, irreverent, bittingly funny and tender, vulnerable, serious made for a wild, breathtaking book. There is so much weirdness here, so much uncertainty, and also a lot of celebration of trans lives and identity. Ortberg doesn't make anything simple, and it makes for a rich and lasting reading experience. I will be thinking about this one for a long time. He delves into transition from so many unique angles, and yet also, this is a book about pop culture and literature and religion. It refuses to be any one thing. It is gloriously messy.

The audiobook is out of control good. I listened to a lot of it one weekend while I was driving a lot--twenty minutes here, an hour there, another twenty minutes, and I found myself both crying over my steering wheel frequently and also sitting in parking lots a lot because I couldn't turn it off.

[Christy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I honestly have no idea what this is trying to be. Part of it is a memoir of the author’s transition. I was onboard for that, but at 46% we haven’t moved past the idea of his being unsure of his desire to transition. Interspersed with that is a series of jarring interludes, some of of which thematically connect to the memoir, many of which don’t. I have found this jarring, heavily obscure quality to be true of the author’s work in everything after Texts from Jane Eyre, and I find this mishmash, MFA-y style difficult to enjoy. I think I will have to accept my love of TfJE does not extend to Lavery’s other works.

[Eva B. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh. I will be thinking about this forever, I think.

[leo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rest assured I will come back to update this with a full review later. But in the meantime, just know it’s a masterpiece. New favorite for sure.

[Matt Graupman · Rating 2 out of 5]

A self-described “spiritually anxious transsexual,” Daniel M. Lavery (formerly Daniel Mallory Ortberg and, before that, Mallory Ortberg) puts those qualities on full display in “Something That May Shock And Discredit You,” his memoir about transitioning from female to male in his thirties, a relatively late time to make such a monumental change. I mean, that’s what the book should have been, or at least that’s what MORE of the book should have been. Buried under satirical essays, pop culture musings, and philosophical exercises, there’s a compelling and unique narrative about gender, self-acceptance, and love. Unfortunately, Lavery is either unwilling or unable to separate the wheat from the chaff.

Like the love child of hyper-literate cartoonist Alison Bechdel (the graphic novel “Fun Home”) and wry memoirist David Sedaris (a library’s worth of observational articles and books), Lavery is an astute, sophisticated, and clever writer. He knows how to connect the dots between his personal experiences and their place within the larger context of art and society, but it’s just too damn much. “The Golden Girls,” William Shatner, Greek mythology, Dante’s “The Divine Comedy,” “Mean Girls,” “Anne Of Green Gables,” and multitudes more are considered in “Something That May Shock And Discredit You” when all I really wanted was for Lavery to quit it with all the flowery diatribes and just get to the meat of his story. Chapters wander in and out of coherence in a sort of stream-of-consciousness style and, even more exasperating, there are interludes between each chapter. Interludes! Easily the best parts of this book are the ones where Lavery drops the affectations and just writes honestly and directly; that’s the kind of book I’d be happy to read but this one isn’t that. It’s a shame because the humor and vulnerability that he embraces in these too infrequent sections prove that this book could’ve been phenomenal.

It’s gonna sound harsh but, honestly, probably only 25-30% of “Something That May Shock And Discredit You” is worth your time. Unless you like reimaginings of Biblical verses as mid-2000s raunchy teen comedies, then you’ll probably love 100% of the book. I suspect that’s a very niche audience, though.

[MargaretDH · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's not very often that I feel tempted to call a book a meditation, but I think that's what this book is. Lavery (formerly Ortberg) writes about coming to the realization that his gender assigned at birth did not reflect who he really was, and his journey to and through transition. Using the Bible, mythology, classic literature, and pop culture, Lavery examines transformation of the individual.

Lavery is excellent at thoughtful, close reading, and witty turns of phrase. As humans, we are obsessed with personal transformation, and what could be a more complete transformation than to transition? Lavery takes us through how he used literature to understand himself.

Lavery is smarter than me, and there were some things I didn't totally get here, and sometimes that made me feel weird and confused. But that's ok. I think it's good to feel weird and confused sometimes.

[Felix Gomez · Rating 1 out of 5]

Having read and loved Texts From Jane Eyre, as well, as several piece from The Onion is the name? Well, I was excited to read his memoir, and I was quite underwhelmed. The book is wordy, pretentious and filled with nonsense, and I love nonsense, but this nonsense felt like I was reading a conversation between two friends filled with inside jokes, and I wanted to laugh so badly, but I was left out.

[Books on Stereo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quick Take: Something That May Shock and Discredit You (STMSDY) is a memoir told in a mashup of genres and pop cultural references. Ortberg's writing is effortlessly honest, while tender in its approach to its subject matter. However, the length of STMSDY was far too long resulting in certain ideas and motif being continually re-cycled via a different lens. Illuminating, but a bit too long.