A fascinating exploration of three individuals in fin-de-siècle France who pushed the boundaries of gender identity.
Before the term "transgender" existed, there were those who experienced their gender in complex ways. Before Trans examines the lives and writings of Jane Dieulafoy (1850-1916), Rachilde (1860-1953), and Marc de Montifaud (1845-1912), three French writers whose gender expression did not conform to nineteenth-century notions of femininity.
Dieulafoy fought alongside her husband in the Franco-Prussian War and traveled with him to the Middle East; later she wrote novels about girls becoming boys and enjoyed being photographed in her signature men's suits. Rachilde became famous in the 1880s for her controversial gender-bending novel Monsieur Vénus, published around the same time that she started using a calling card that read "Rachilde, Man of Letters." Montifaud began her career as an art critic before turning to erotic writings, for which she was repeatedly charged with "offense to public decency"; she wore tailored men's suits and a short haircut for much of her life and went by masculine pronouns among certain friends.
Dieulafoy, Rachilde, and Montifaud established themselves as fixtures in the literary world of fin-de-siècle Paris at the same time as French writers, scientists, and doctors were becoming increasingly fascinated with sexuality and sexual difference. Even so, the concept of gender identity as separate from sexual identity did not yet exist. Before Trans explores these three figures' lifelong efforts to articulate a sense of selfhood that did not precisely align with the conventional gender roles of their day. Their intricate, personal stories provide vital historical context for our own efforts to understand the nature of gender identity and the ways in which it might be expressed.
Rachel Mesch is a scholar of French literature, history, and culture specializing in gender, women writers, and feminist history.
She received a BA from Yale University, an MA from Columbia University and her PhD from the University of Pennsylvania. She has taught at both Barnard College and Columbia University and has been teaching at Yeshiva University in New York since 2007.
A specialist in nineteenth-century French literature, Dr. Mesch's main areas of research and teaching include the French novel, women writers, gender studies, visual and media culture, the French Enlightenment, and the Belle Epoque. She has also published articles on women writers of the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries.
Ce livre est important en ce qu’il permet une représentation rarissime et la redécouverte de figures intellectuelles et littéraires trans majeures. MAIS malgré tous les points positifs que j’y trouve, un certain nombre de points négatifs m’ont irritée pendant ma lecture.
Pourquoi l’autrice s’évertue-t-elle à genrer les trois protagonistes au féminin ? Alors même que certain·e·s d’entre elleux ont clairement et publiquement fait savoir qu’iels ne s’identifiaient pas à la catégorie « femme » ? Et que, par moments, iels se genraient ET se faisaient genrer au masculin ?
L’autrice invoque un motif typiquement historien, ce serait anachronique d’affubler ces individus de l’étiquette « trans » et, ne sachant pas quels pronoms iels auraient choisi s’iels avaient vécu aujourd’hui, nous ne sommes pas en mesure de faire ce choix. J’entends. Mais alors, pourquoi nous mettre sous le nez les archives où Rachilde et Montifaud parlent de leur sentiment de NON-appartenance au genre féminin ?
Grosse déception sur ce point, d’autant plus que Mesch nous présente des sources carrées qui les genrent au masculin, comme le bouquin de Leslie Feinberg (1996) où Dieulafoy est carrément qualifié de « female to male trans person » et son couple présenté comme gay…
La division du livre aurait pu être intéressante, mais le raisonnement n’est pas dialectique là, c’est juste sectionné. On a trois grandes parties qui ne se parlent quasiment pas, et une préférence qui a l’air d’aller à Jane Dieulafoy puisqu’iel est constamment cité·e quand il s’agit d’établir des parallèles entre les différent·e·s protagonistes.
Enfin, le manque de critique (il y en a mais bien trop peu) envers l’orientalisme et l’antiféminisme de ces trois zozos, ça va deux minutes. Je comprends l’envie d’être descriptive et fidèle aux archives, mais là on peut peut-être passer à la vitesse supérieure. Puis ne jamais parler de classe ?? Alors que c’est parce qu’iels étaient d’extraction noble et faisaient partie de l'élite intellectuelle qu’il leur a été possible d’obtenir des permis pour porter des pantalons et de vivre les vies qu’iels ont eu… bon.
Malgré tout, c'est vraiment précieux que ces recherches et ce livre existent. J'attends maintenant de lire des histoires plus populaires et minoritaires, écrites par des chercheur·se·s trans :)
I cannot review the content of this book because I do not believe Rachel Mesch should have written it, a fact Mesch is apparently aware of.
In her introduction she writes 'Indeed, the more I have immersed myself in the field of trans studies, the more I have questioned my right to do so' so why then did she CONTINUE to do so? It is disingenuous to include hand-wringing about ethics in the introduction only to then continue to push us further into the margins, as Julia Serano writes.
In her conclusion she admits to lying to members of L'Académie she was working with about the exact topic of her research and wonders 'what would have happened had I told him that I was interested in her [sic] in the context of modern notions of transgender identity?' (284) In her identity as a cis scholar Mesch is able to move in academic spaces and research trans history in a way that a trans scholar may not be able to if they are non-passing or even just open about their research. Mesch remains complicit in the marginalization of trans scholars from fields of trans history.
It was Mesch's choice (not her editors) to exclusively use she/her pronouns for the three subjects of her book, she writes that she 'did not feel it was appropriate to choose alternative pronouns on their behalf.' On the surface this is a valid concern, however, her work makes clear that this is not what she would have be doing. She gives evidence that all three of these people used either 'il' pronouns or masculine grammatical forms at points in their lives, Rachilde interrupted a friend during a conversation multiple times to say 'But as for me, I'm a man' (191) Dieulafoy not only wore a suit but a board to flatten his chest (117). I do not know exactly how any of these individuals would identify were they born today, with today's terminology, but neither does Mesch, and to insist exclusively on she/her pronouns Mesch is not respecting the identity of these people, she is explicitly denying their lived experiences and identities.
Mesch claims 'Rather than pushing gender-variant voices into the margins, I hope that by amplifying the stories of these three writers, this book will make more room for them and others like them to be heard' and I must ask, does she TRULY believe this book accomplishes that?
In her conclusion she relates a scene from her research where, looking through Dieulafoy's archives she finds a letter to the Chevalier d’Éon from her friend where Dieulafoy had underlined the female pronouns and then relates this action back to something similar she had done during her research (287). She takes a moment of 'ephemera as evidence' (285) a moment of one trans person looking at his ancestors and finding moments of affirmation, and makes it about her cis experiences.
This an amazing work of history that asks us to reconsider the way we understand individuals who did not conform to gender expectations. It shows that modern language gives us a framework to understand three writers who sometimes did not feel like they fit within a gender binary, sometimes identified as female, and sometidas male. If you have never heard of Jane Dieulafoy, Rachilde, and Marc de Montifaud, you are in for a treat.
A short biography of three turn of the century French writers who could all be viewed as trans through a modern lens. I appreciated how well the book was researched and put together, as well as the author’s sensitive approach of the subjects’ gender. As a cisgender author, Mesch referenced trans authors throughout and also reflected on her place to write a book of trans history which I again appreciated. It is also good that the author included a short discussion on orientalism and French imperialism in relation to Jane Dieulafoy.
i only read the chapters on Rachilde for a presentation I’m doin on him and “Monsieur Vénus.” rachilde is such a life changing figure and her complexities and stances on gender and just as progressive today as they were then. much love to him and i hope she rests peacefully, flamboyantly, and boldly.
Traditional French history academia engaging with trans-identity. Well-researched and conscientious consideration of analyzing identity from a nuanced historical perspective. It's higher level than my students will read, but I will absolutely incorporate these stories into my lectures.
Found this while just browsing, and I’m very glad I did! Each biography was written thoroughly and thoughtfully, and on a personal note, it was really cool to see some of my own thoughts on and experiences with my gender reflected in people who lived in such a different world.
Fascinating history of three women who blurred gender lines in fin de siecle France. In addition to the subject matter the author drops little nuggets about working within French academia.