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The First Man-Made Man: The Story of Two Sex Changes, One Love Affair, and a Twentieth-Century Medical Revolution
In the 1920s, when Laura Dillon felt like a man trapped in a woman's body, there were no words to describe her condition; transsexual had yet to enter common usage. And there was no known solution to being stuck between the sexes. In a desperate bid to feel comfortable in her own skin, she experimented with breakthrough technologies that ultimately transformed the human body and revolutionized medicine. Michael Dillon's incredible story, from upper-class orphan girl to Buddhist monk, reveals the struggles of early transsexuals and challenges conventional notions of what gender really means.
226 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2007
15 people are currently reading
912 people want to read
About the author
Pagan Kennedy
26 books94 followersPagan Kennedy is a regular contributor to the New York Times and author of eleven books. A biography titled Black Livingstone made the NewYork Times Notable list and earned Massachusetts Book Award honors. She also has been the recipient of a Barnes and Noble Discover Award, a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship in Fiction, and a Smithsonian Fellowship for science writing. Visit her online at www.pagankennedy.net.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 46 reviews
June 9, 2018
Despite being a biography and despite the author's claims that she wanted to avoid sensationalism, this book reads like a weird hybrid of tabloids and narrative fiction.
When I started reading I thought that it must have been published much earlier than it actually was because of the outdated language and constant misgendering of trans people. There's a disclaimer at the front of the book saying that these were conscious decisions made to decrease confusion and because of the language used at the time of the book's events, but repeatedly switching back and forth from one pronoun/descriptor/name to another makes things more confusing (not less), and that type of persistent use of outdated (and often offensive) language would not be accepted in a book about any other group of people. If Kennedy really felt it was important, she could've used more current language in most of the book while leaving old quotations etc. intact, rather than writing the entire book as if it was 50+ years earlier. A lot has changed from 2007 to 2018, but this book feels like something from the 1980s or earlier.
The only saving grace here is that, since it was published 10 years earlier than Dillon's autobiography (if I'd realized that it had published before I was already halfway through Kennedy's book I would've skipped The First Man-Made Man altogether) and that, since it's biography (rather than autobiography) and since it was written long after Dillon/Jivaka's death, Kennedy's able to provide some context that might otherwise be missed.
When I started reading I thought that it must have been published much earlier than it actually was because of the outdated language and constant misgendering of trans people. There's a disclaimer at the front of the book saying that these were conscious decisions made to decrease confusion and because of the language used at the time of the book's events, but repeatedly switching back and forth from one pronoun/descriptor/name to another makes things more confusing (not less), and that type of persistent use of outdated (and often offensive) language would not be accepted in a book about any other group of people. If Kennedy really felt it was important, she could've used more current language in most of the book while leaving old quotations etc. intact, rather than writing the entire book as if it was 50+ years earlier. A lot has changed from 2007 to 2018, but this book feels like something from the 1980s or earlier.
The only saving grace here is that, since it was published 10 years earlier than Dillon's autobiography (if I'd realized that it had published before I was already halfway through Kennedy's book I would've skipped The First Man-Made Man altogether) and that, since it's biography (rather than autobiography) and since it was written long after Dillon/Jivaka's death, Kennedy's able to provide some context that might otherwise be missed.
August 6, 2016
I bought this book long before Bruce Jenner's transition to Caitlyn Jenner was even a whisper because I have long been fascinated by what constitutes gender v. sex. Having minored in psychology in college, I have long believed that we all live on a gender spectrum. I mean I look back at my childhood when my mom sometimes got really freaked out at my resistance to wearing "girly" clothes. I was a raging tomboy, and I preferred jeans and sports clothes to dresses and halter tops. My sister, on the other hand, loved girly clothes and jewelry. That said, we both knew we were girls even though she was clearly far more "girly" than I was. She still is, by the way.
Despite our childhood example, I have known other people who truly had far deeper feelings. One friend says he can remember as far back as second grade that he wished he was a girl. His teacher even told his parents that he needed to "quit saying he wishes he were a girl." He says he remembers thinking something was really wrong and that he was born into the wrong body. I know I am reading lots of things on Facebook right now from the religious right perspective saying that people with Gender Identity Disorder are sinners because people with GID are accusing God of making a mistake by saying they are born into the wrong bodies. I am a conservative Catholic, but I don't think correcting things about ourselves that cause us problems is sinful -- within reason. If a baby is born with a birth defect, and medicine or surgery is used to correct it, is that sinful? Are we accusing God of making a mistake on that baby? What is the difference between recognizing a birth defect on a baby, and Gender Identity Disorder?
Okay, back to the book. I think I have sort of understood Gender Identity Disorder before I read this book, but I really learned so much more after reading about two of the first people who ever really had sex reassignment surgery, especially Michael Dillon. What a tragic case! This poor man lived a life a true heartbreak and loneliness. Virtually everyone in his life betrayed him. What was truly eye-opening, though, that the sex discrimination that people endured in the early years of sex reassignments. For example, a woman who wanted to be a man did not have too much trouble medically or legally because no one cared too much about women's right. So, getting rid of women's ovaries and carving up a woman's genitalia posed no real liability. A man, however, who wanted to be castrated had to jump through all sorts of hoops because men's rights were often guarded like Fort Knox.
I highly recommend this book. If you are remotely curious about this topic, you will find this is a great read.
Despite our childhood example, I have known other people who truly had far deeper feelings. One friend says he can remember as far back as second grade that he wished he was a girl. His teacher even told his parents that he needed to "quit saying he wishes he were a girl." He says he remembers thinking something was really wrong and that he was born into the wrong body. I know I am reading lots of things on Facebook right now from the religious right perspective saying that people with Gender Identity Disorder are sinners because people with GID are accusing God of making a mistake by saying they are born into the wrong bodies. I am a conservative Catholic, but I don't think correcting things about ourselves that cause us problems is sinful -- within reason. If a baby is born with a birth defect, and medicine or surgery is used to correct it, is that sinful? Are we accusing God of making a mistake on that baby? What is the difference between recognizing a birth defect on a baby, and Gender Identity Disorder?
Okay, back to the book. I think I have sort of understood Gender Identity Disorder before I read this book, but I really learned so much more after reading about two of the first people who ever really had sex reassignment surgery, especially Michael Dillon. What a tragic case! This poor man lived a life a true heartbreak and loneliness. Virtually everyone in his life betrayed him. What was truly eye-opening, though, that the sex discrimination that people endured in the early years of sex reassignments. For example, a woman who wanted to be a man did not have too much trouble medically or legally because no one cared too much about women's right. So, getting rid of women's ovaries and carving up a woman's genitalia posed no real liability. A man, however, who wanted to be castrated had to jump through all sorts of hoops because men's rights were often guarded like Fort Knox.
I highly recommend this book. If you are remotely curious about this topic, you will find this is a great read.
January 1, 2025
This book presents a pretty good survey of a really interesting topic, 20th century medical transition in the US + Europe and the reaction of the tabloid press.
The sections of this book covering trans women felt unkind and unsympathetic-- conveying a sense that these women were grifters or self deluded. (Roberta Cowell manipulating Michael Dillon's loneliness and one-sided love to obtain an illegal castration + falsely claiming to have been born with ovarian tissue, Lily Elbe insisting she was so divorced from her life pre-transition that she couldn't recall childhood memories, etc.)
The back half of the book is mostly a biography of Michael Dillon's time in India and Tibet. I think it could've been interesting if there were a more critical lens focused on his identity specifically as an upperclass white brit and his orientalist tendencies.
I found Dillon's yearning to find belonging/acceptance while fleeing further and further into anonymity really compelling.
The sections of this book covering trans women felt unkind and unsympathetic-- conveying a sense that these women were grifters or self deluded. (Roberta Cowell manipulating Michael Dillon's loneliness and one-sided love to obtain an illegal castration + falsely claiming to have been born with ovarian tissue, Lily Elbe insisting she was so divorced from her life pre-transition that she couldn't recall childhood memories, etc.)
The back half of the book is mostly a biography of Michael Dillon's time in India and Tibet. I think it could've been interesting if there were a more critical lens focused on his identity specifically as an upperclass white brit and his orientalist tendencies.
I found Dillon's yearning to find belonging/acceptance while fleeing further and further into anonymity really compelling.
April 26, 2007
So this was promising...the story of one of the first FtMs and their weird relationship with one of the first MtFs. However, it was horribly written and not very informative. There are a few good factoids, e.g. a popular medical procedure used to be grafting a goats testicles onto your own for vitality and the whole history of endocrinology is always fascinating. But, I can't believe this got reviewed favorably in the NY Times. Whose daughter is Ms. Kennedy?
September 29, 2025
this was insane...... i have no words..... will write further.....
August 23, 2007
Okay, the subtitle made it sound trashy, but I thought it was worth a go. I've always been fascinated by the various journeys trans and intersex people go through. I'm also quite interested in liminality, whether it's in terms of sex or gender or sexuality or various combinations thereof.
Although reading about Michael Dillon's early journey was definitely interesting, particularly the feelings of not quite fitting and the ways he found to try to fit in, what I really found interesting was the way he always seemed to be looking for something that was missing. He seemed to be aching after something he wasn't, and although he initially thought that undergoing surgery to become the physical man he already knew he was would fulfill him, it doesn't seem to have. It seems like he wanted to belong—as a man, as a doctor, as a sailor—and when that wasn't enough, he turned to spiritual enlightenment. He wound up leaving everything behind and going off to become a monk in Tibet. He was happiest when he was a starving novice in a remote monastery, surrounded by people whose language he didn't speak but whom he nevertheless felt were genuine and sincere in their acceptance of him.
One of the things he kept running away from was other people finding out his secret. This kept him from his initial dream of just finding a woman to marry and settle down and be ordinary with; from his job in shipping. When his secret did come out, he actually had people stand by him but he ran away anyway. And when he told various monks in Tibet about his past, so that he could actually become a monk instead of just a novice, he was knocked back. At any rate, eventually his secret came out properly and he was all prepared with an autobiography ready to go. He seemed to have come to peace at last with his past, was ready to stop hiding and running away. And then he died.
It was just sad. I felt very sorry for him, because he doesn't seem to have been very happy. Every time he got what he thought he wanted, it doesn't seem to have been the answer. The answer, of course, being that there is no one thing that will make everything all right, that will make you happy. And it sounded like he was finally working out what would make him happy, how to be more at peace with himself and his world, his past and his life. And then he died.
Still, good book.
Although reading about Michael Dillon's early journey was definitely interesting, particularly the feelings of not quite fitting and the ways he found to try to fit in, what I really found interesting was the way he always seemed to be looking for something that was missing. He seemed to be aching after something he wasn't, and although he initially thought that undergoing surgery to become the physical man he already knew he was would fulfill him, it doesn't seem to have. It seems like he wanted to belong—as a man, as a doctor, as a sailor—and when that wasn't enough, he turned to spiritual enlightenment. He wound up leaving everything behind and going off to become a monk in Tibet. He was happiest when he was a starving novice in a remote monastery, surrounded by people whose language he didn't speak but whom he nevertheless felt were genuine and sincere in their acceptance of him.
One of the things he kept running away from was other people finding out his secret. This kept him from his initial dream of just finding a woman to marry and settle down and be ordinary with; from his job in shipping. When his secret did come out, he actually had people stand by him but he ran away anyway. And when he told various monks in Tibet about his past, so that he could actually become a monk instead of just a novice, he was knocked back. At any rate, eventually his secret came out properly and he was all prepared with an autobiography ready to go. He seemed to have come to peace at last with his past, was ready to stop hiding and running away. And then he died.
It was just sad. I felt very sorry for him, because he doesn't seem to have been very happy. Every time he got what he thought he wanted, it doesn't seem to have been the answer. The answer, of course, being that there is no one thing that will make everything all right, that will make you happy. And it sounded like he was finally working out what would make him happy, how to be more at peace with himself and his world, his past and his life. And then he died.
Still, good book.
March 9, 2019
"The First Man-Made Man” by Pagan Kennedy details the fascinating history of the social and scientific development of the process for individuals to change their sex. The time frame spans the lifetime of Michael Dillon (1915-1962), “an English doctor of aristocratic birth,” who was born a woman, underwent the transformation with hormones and surgery (removing breasts and adding a penis), and spent time as a Novice at a Tibetan Buddhist monastery where he adopted the name Lobzang Jivaka. The book is his biography.
The process of Dillon becoming a trans man occurred over about 10 years, through the 1940s, and the author does an excellent job of describing the challenges Dillon faced in dealing with family and friends, employers, and even the press. Dillon was an intelligent, complex, and interesting individual. The author writes: “Dillon’s tale proves just how far a human being can bend, how protean we are, how raw with possibility. He inhabited a dizzying array of roles: schoolgirl, doctor, besotted suitor, sailor, mystic. . . . Dillon could never change his desire for change.”
The period covered in the book includes people such as Christine Jorgensen, the famous trans woman. The author also discusses the impact of endocrinologist Harry Benjamin, who contended no one was entirely male or female; sexologist John Money who introduced gender roles as distinct from biological sex; surgeon Sir Harold Gilles who could build a penis from flesh harvested from elsewhere on the body; and Eugen Steinach who discovered the power of sex hormones. Many other characters impacted the art and science of what was called at the time, transsexualism.
Michael Dillon, though, is so much more. He wrote extensively and his memoir was published posthumously, many years after his death – I believe it was even after the publication of Kennedy’s book in 2007. In addition to the transsexual angle, Kennedy’s chapters on Dillon’s travels and experiences with Tibetan Buddhism are equally fascinating, including significant religious and political developments in China and Tibet. There is so much in this relatively short book. It is a valuable addition to the literature on these topics.
The process of Dillon becoming a trans man occurred over about 10 years, through the 1940s, and the author does an excellent job of describing the challenges Dillon faced in dealing with family and friends, employers, and even the press. Dillon was an intelligent, complex, and interesting individual. The author writes: “Dillon’s tale proves just how far a human being can bend, how protean we are, how raw with possibility. He inhabited a dizzying array of roles: schoolgirl, doctor, besotted suitor, sailor, mystic. . . . Dillon could never change his desire for change.”
The period covered in the book includes people such as Christine Jorgensen, the famous trans woman. The author also discusses the impact of endocrinologist Harry Benjamin, who contended no one was entirely male or female; sexologist John Money who introduced gender roles as distinct from biological sex; surgeon Sir Harold Gilles who could build a penis from flesh harvested from elsewhere on the body; and Eugen Steinach who discovered the power of sex hormones. Many other characters impacted the art and science of what was called at the time, transsexualism.
Michael Dillon, though, is so much more. He wrote extensively and his memoir was published posthumously, many years after his death – I believe it was even after the publication of Kennedy’s book in 2007. In addition to the transsexual angle, Kennedy’s chapters on Dillon’s travels and experiences with Tibetan Buddhism are equally fascinating, including significant religious and political developments in China and Tibet. There is so much in this relatively short book. It is a valuable addition to the literature on these topics.
June 29, 2017
While the story of Michael Dillon, the history of trans folks in the world, and (as a nurse) the medical history of the development of gender reassignment surgery were interesting to me, I was frustrated by the author's tone and intentional refusal to use current language to describe the real people she wrote about. It was clear that Kennedy is a cis person without a horse in the race for trans rights as she states in a disclaimer that she doesn't intend to be political. But the lives of trans people are politicized and the language she used helps to shape people's opinions today. So changing genders for Dillon and other characters based on pre- and post- transition is misleading to the cis community - painting a picture that until one is perceived as the opposite sex, they are not considered the gender they identify with. Additionally, the heavy use of the term transsexual rather than transgender is discriminatory. A historical book about African Americans that refers to the group as "negroes" would not be considered outdated, but discriminatory. Unacceptable.
January 8, 2009
Michael Dillon's life, chronicled in this book, is fascinating, but unfortunately Kennedy does not do it justice. The tone was much more novelistic than biographical ("As the monk's robe swirled around his calves in front of Michael, he wondered if...."), and this paired with her extensive reference to his biography made me wonder if perhaps it might have been more interesting to just read his autobiography itself, for those willing to slog through it and with the proper context. But that hasn't been published, so if you are interested, "The First Man-Made Man" is worth a read, if only because it's a quick one.
October 26, 2020
While I'm interested in the process of transitioning and how the science of it came about, I didn't feel invested in any of the people in this. It didn't really feel like a biography; instead it read like a series of disjointed stories. And the persistence of phrases like "artificial man/woman" feel very sensationalist and like the author doesn't consider trans people to be their true gender but as if they're perpetually in a limbo "between the sexes"
October 21, 2022
Really enjoyed the read, but maybe it wouldn't resonate with someone who has no idea what it is like to feel "different".
The ending is incredibly saddening and frustrating to read, or at least I found it so. After a whole life of self exploration, Michael Dillon finally realises what he needs to truly be fulfilled - and then this is taken away from him too.
As for why the book doesn't get 5 stars - it's a little rough around the edges. It could do with some proofreading, and it doesn't always list sources to see more information, so it's like a mixture between a purely historical account and a novel. But still very good. Really liked it.
The ending is incredibly saddening and frustrating to read, or at least I found it so. After a whole life of self exploration, Michael Dillon finally realises what he needs to truly be fulfilled - and then this is taken away from him too.
As for why the book doesn't get 5 stars - it's a little rough around the edges. It could do with some proofreading, and it doesn't always list sources to see more information, so it's like a mixture between a purely historical account and a novel. But still very good. Really liked it.
February 11, 2019
Not well written and I feel like it got more acclaim than it was due simply because of the subject matter. It is important we tell the stories of people that have been unheard, but I do also think we should tell our own stories. I struggled with this story, both because even though I wanted to have similar experiences to Mr. Dillon, he just isn't really a likable guy, as told by Pagan Kennedy.
May 27, 2019
Michael Dillon’s life is so fascinating, and I greatly enjoyed reading about him and early trans history. However, the ebook I read has NUMEROUS typos, and it was very frustrating; also, Kennedy is not the greatest writer, which leads to a 3-star rating even though the subject is definitely 5-star material.
April 16, 2023
A thoroughly enjoyable narrative of the life of potentially Britain's first trans man. Littered with nods towards the wider historical context of trans history, this book covers the particularly unusual life of a very early mover. Recentring the voice of the person at the heart of the story, a certain authorial flourish carries you nicely through the biography.
December 15, 2024
plucked from my mother’s shelf while recovering from a hysterectomy: was curious what her friends had recommended when I first came out 18ish years ago.
The author is possibly a gifted novelist, but her turn to “gonzo science journalism” (her words in acknowledgments) to provide light entertainment for an impruriently curious cis audience solidly meets a very middling marking for even mid-2000s trans terms. That’s not to say I wasn’t interested enough to finish—it’s a little hilarious how many typical modern hallmarks of early toxic transmasculinity show up for a member of the English nobility with no real connections to other trans men. Yet, while given an author’s introductory note clarifying her use of the term transsexual and “angst” over eventually deploying individuals’ proper pronouns despite “his/her body type”, I hadn’t quite expected such depth and detail hammering around failure to adhere to gendered stereotypes, fixation on appearance and “ugly” physical traits (not just of the trans patients described but also various doctors, monks, and even wounded World War vets), and troubled descriptions of the agony of existing as “half-man, half-woman”.
While hewing closely to Michael Dillon’s life, various well-known names from modern white Western trans history are sprinkled throughout: just enough to catch interest in Christine Jorgensen, Lili Elbe, and Reed Erickson, with closer attention paid to clinicians such as Harold Gillies, Harry Benjamin, John Money, and (so briefly one could easily miss it, if not for the quotes and speculation that followed about Nazi troops’ visits and struggles with pedophilia, impotence, and crossdressing) Magnus Hirschfield. Surgical details are described in more detail than many of the individuals flitting through the pages, emphasizing legal concerns over “genital mutilation”, the danger involved in pioneering new techniques, the surgeons’ reputations, and the pain associated with recovery from multi-stage procedures. This is all reported from providers’ perspectives and barely addresses the steps patients took to get to consults, or personal reports of their satisfaction and adjustment.
For a life path so closely tied to upholding and eventually denying both social class markers and actual financial resources/success, shockingly little attention is paid to the costs involved in seeking or accessing treatment for either Michael Dillon or the later masses attending clinics once discovering a new path is possible. While Parker Kennedy does (foot)note controversy around John Money’s strict binary evaluations/prescriptions of clients’ genders and advocacy for infant genital surgery in cases of clear intersex presentation, Harry Benjamin is painted as being shocked but sympathetic to those trans women he met funding their appointments through sex work while still insisting on “full time lived female experience” prior to surgeries or often hormones.
In the wake of the Cass Report and several years’ furor amongst gender-critical feminists in the UK, it’s interesting to note how much a role the Daily Mirror and other tabloid presses played in the breaking of both news and testimonies from early post-surgical trans patients. Dillon’s eventual unwillingness to dismiss himself from the line of heritage of his father and brother’s baronet title is the primary evidence linking his former and present selves, to both his brother and in-loco-parentis aunts’ dismay. While remaining sympathetic to his “clerical fudgings” in order to gain admittance to medical school as a man, and describing Dillon several times as a fundamentally honest man uncomfortable with the coverups and false wartime histories necessary to explain his injuries and advanced age, a relatively neutral description of his stodginess and lifelong distance from others betrays a greater issue. Yes, Parker Kennedy is comfortable rightfully calling him a misogynist and describing his paternalizing pontification to Roberta Cowell when she seeks out his advice on pursuing transition for herself… but each of the (comparatively few) pages devoted to Cowell are dripping with simultaneous misogyny and transmisogyny. Is it really necessary to paint her as Dillon’s only possible paramour, and to in essence fault her as a manipulative stringer-along who “sniggers” at both Dillon’s phalloplasty and identification as a man? In not just this case but later considerations of relative population sizes of “F-to-Ms and M-to-Fs”, Kennedy notes the appeal of trans women to a general male population but also the terror of being “taken in” by one unknowingly.
One last note: there was *so* much more to be said on Dillon’s typical colonial fixations on traveling abroad to Africa, “American Indians”, and his extensive history in India, Tibet, and Ladakh while refusing to learn local languages in order to communicate with the monks he worked and studied with, preferring to instead teach his chosen teachers English (those who weren’t European immigrants themselves). I’m not even touching the dynamic of calling Sangharakshita “Daddy”, or the fantasies of paternal discipline and male fraternity Kennedy alludes to among the monasteries. Even the background of conflict impacting not just “Tibetan Buddhism in its most essential form” but local foodstores and resources is primarily reflected through Dillon’s own malnutrition and hunger.
The author is possibly a gifted novelist, but her turn to “gonzo science journalism” (her words in acknowledgments) to provide light entertainment for an impruriently curious cis audience solidly meets a very middling marking for even mid-2000s trans terms. That’s not to say I wasn’t interested enough to finish—it’s a little hilarious how many typical modern hallmarks of early toxic transmasculinity show up for a member of the English nobility with no real connections to other trans men. Yet, while given an author’s introductory note clarifying her use of the term transsexual and “angst” over eventually deploying individuals’ proper pronouns despite “his/her body type”, I hadn’t quite expected such depth and detail hammering around failure to adhere to gendered stereotypes, fixation on appearance and “ugly” physical traits (not just of the trans patients described but also various doctors, monks, and even wounded World War vets), and troubled descriptions of the agony of existing as “half-man, half-woman”.
While hewing closely to Michael Dillon’s life, various well-known names from modern white Western trans history are sprinkled throughout: just enough to catch interest in Christine Jorgensen, Lili Elbe, and Reed Erickson, with closer attention paid to clinicians such as Harold Gillies, Harry Benjamin, John Money, and (so briefly one could easily miss it, if not for the quotes and speculation that followed about Nazi troops’ visits and struggles with pedophilia, impotence, and crossdressing) Magnus Hirschfield. Surgical details are described in more detail than many of the individuals flitting through the pages, emphasizing legal concerns over “genital mutilation”, the danger involved in pioneering new techniques, the surgeons’ reputations, and the pain associated with recovery from multi-stage procedures. This is all reported from providers’ perspectives and barely addresses the steps patients took to get to consults, or personal reports of their satisfaction and adjustment.
For a life path so closely tied to upholding and eventually denying both social class markers and actual financial resources/success, shockingly little attention is paid to the costs involved in seeking or accessing treatment for either Michael Dillon or the later masses attending clinics once discovering a new path is possible. While Parker Kennedy does (foot)note controversy around John Money’s strict binary evaluations/prescriptions of clients’ genders and advocacy for infant genital surgery in cases of clear intersex presentation, Harry Benjamin is painted as being shocked but sympathetic to those trans women he met funding their appointments through sex work while still insisting on “full time lived female experience” prior to surgeries or often hormones.
In the wake of the Cass Report and several years’ furor amongst gender-critical feminists in the UK, it’s interesting to note how much a role the Daily Mirror and other tabloid presses played in the breaking of both news and testimonies from early post-surgical trans patients. Dillon’s eventual unwillingness to dismiss himself from the line of heritage of his father and brother’s baronet title is the primary evidence linking his former and present selves, to both his brother and in-loco-parentis aunts’ dismay. While remaining sympathetic to his “clerical fudgings” in order to gain admittance to medical school as a man, and describing Dillon several times as a fundamentally honest man uncomfortable with the coverups and false wartime histories necessary to explain his injuries and advanced age, a relatively neutral description of his stodginess and lifelong distance from others betrays a greater issue. Yes, Parker Kennedy is comfortable rightfully calling him a misogynist and describing his paternalizing pontification to Roberta Cowell when she seeks out his advice on pursuing transition for herself… but each of the (comparatively few) pages devoted to Cowell are dripping with simultaneous misogyny and transmisogyny. Is it really necessary to paint her as Dillon’s only possible paramour, and to in essence fault her as a manipulative stringer-along who “sniggers” at both Dillon’s phalloplasty and identification as a man? In not just this case but later considerations of relative population sizes of “F-to-Ms and M-to-Fs”, Kennedy notes the appeal of trans women to a general male population but also the terror of being “taken in” by one unknowingly.
One last note: there was *so* much more to be said on Dillon’s typical colonial fixations on traveling abroad to Africa, “American Indians”, and his extensive history in India, Tibet, and Ladakh while refusing to learn local languages in order to communicate with the monks he worked and studied with, preferring to instead teach his chosen teachers English (those who weren’t European immigrants themselves). I’m not even touching the dynamic of calling Sangharakshita “Daddy”, or the fantasies of paternal discipline and male fraternity Kennedy alludes to among the monasteries. Even the background of conflict impacting not just “Tibetan Buddhism in its most essential form” but local foodstores and resources is primarily reflected through Dillon’s own malnutrition and hunger.
June 10, 2021
I was really hoping that the author would be able to do the subject justice. She sadly didn’t. It felt like an oddly history/documentary and then it felt like a historical fiction at times.
February 18, 2023
An important telling of trans people as they came into a more mainstream light, and a reminder that we have always been here, and always will be.
July 21, 2009
I devoured this book with a speed seldom devoted to reading.
It touches on how Dr. Gillies came to create a flap from skin to create a phallus, it repositions more accurately (even just within a white supremacist account of history, nevermind a larger one) Christine Jorgasen, Harry Benjamin and company who often get "the first" attached to their accomplishments.
I am now on the look out for Liz Hodgkinson's Michael Née Laura (1989), Dillon/Jivaka's Self: A Study in Ethics and Endocrinology (1946) and Imji Getsul (1962). I can't believe Out of the Ordinary is still unpublished. I wonder if that's due to the family estate continuing to oppose to it.
I loved the tangents on Benjamin, Steinach, Freud, Money and Christine (among others.) This book has also confirmed earlier findings I've written about that not only add fuel to my rejection of "gender identity" & "gender role" but vindicate (I feel) my insistence in acknowledgeing the troubling etymologies of these phrases. Here's looking at you John Money.
It touches on how Dr. Gillies came to create a flap from skin to create a phallus, it repositions more accurately (even just within a white supremacist account of history, nevermind a larger one) Christine Jorgasen, Harry Benjamin and company who often get "the first" attached to their accomplishments.
I am now on the look out for Liz Hodgkinson's Michael Née Laura (1989), Dillon/Jivaka's Self: A Study in Ethics and Endocrinology (1946) and Imji Getsul (1962). I can't believe Out of the Ordinary is still unpublished. I wonder if that's due to the family estate continuing to oppose to it.
I loved the tangents on Benjamin, Steinach, Freud, Money and Christine (among others.) This book has also confirmed earlier findings I've written about that not only add fuel to my rejection of "gender identity" & "gender role" but vindicate (I feel) my insistence in acknowledgeing the troubling etymologies of these phrases. Here's looking at you John Money.
October 4, 2011
Awfully short, with a misleading title.
There's no love affair.
The medical revolution doesn't begin for 3 decades.
This book is depressing as hell. The first man to transition medically figures out how to make stuff happen, becomes a doctor, writes a groundbreaking book on gender confirmation and endocrinology, goes crazy (from the intense, constant transphobia he encounters, and goes to India to meditate where he encounters more transphobia.)
Engaging and well written, not dry or boring, but not exactly substantial. I think that this would have been better if it had somehow been a part of a larger narrative of the early medical history of gender change. As it stands, at 194 pages, I often felt that Kenndey was filling her story with as much fluff as possible to stretch it out.
I got this book with a bunch of others at a sale at Pegasus. It was $2.50, so in the end, I think I made out alright. I got my $2.50's worth.
There's no love affair.
The medical revolution doesn't begin for 3 decades.
This book is depressing as hell. The first man to transition medically figures out how to make stuff happen, becomes a doctor, writes a groundbreaking book on gender confirmation and endocrinology, goes crazy (from the intense, constant transphobia he encounters, and goes to India to meditate where he encounters more transphobia.)
Engaging and well written, not dry or boring, but not exactly substantial. I think that this would have been better if it had somehow been a part of a larger narrative of the early medical history of gender change. As it stands, at 194 pages, I often felt that Kenndey was filling her story with as much fluff as possible to stretch it out.
I got this book with a bunch of others at a sale at Pegasus. It was $2.50, so in the end, I think I made out alright. I got my $2.50's worth.
July 26, 2007
This book is FASCINATING! It's all about the first transsexuals. Let me tell you, I am so completely engrossed in this book. It's not that long of a book and Pagan Kennedy writes pretty clearly, so all the facts aren't confusing. I do have trouble keeping the dates down. Pagan jumps around a bit, but it works! I'm just bad with dates. What can I say? Anyway, the things you'll learn about tolerance in the world, medicinal advances (let's give people pills without testing the side effects!), feminism, gender roles, and just finding out who you are inside and outside is so very interesting.
April 9, 2014
Loved this book, hate the subtitle including "love affair", that's not what this book is about, and while the book was a great read that I couldn't put down; the subtitle does exactly what the author writes about tabloids sensationalizing trans folks. The subtitle reminds me of the ever so common experience of someone being an awesome trans ally and being super on it, then "ma'am ing" me at the end of the convo. WTF. The author should have just left the title to "the first man made man." Period. Other than the subtitle it's a great read getting 4 stars from me.
July 27, 2007
I only read half of this book, but it's an easy, swift read that gets ya interested...the characters are definitely memorable and unique! Historically unique, too, since it's about some of the 1st (well, 20th century firsts) trans people who advocated for trans rights and/or gained public notoriety.
Dillon re-makes his entire body, and it's an interesting character study as well as good historical context.
Really easy read! Good for an intro to gender studies college course.
Dillon re-makes his entire body, and it's an interesting character study as well as good historical context.
Really easy read! Good for an intro to gender studies college course.
January 29, 2008
Although I've really liked Pagan Kennedy's other books, this one was a tough one to get through. The writing was fine, and the topic/history of sex change and gender was interesting, but the story of Michael Dillon was really frustrating for me. It seems like he had every chance to be successful, and aside from his family, most people accepted him, but he had about the most unhappy life that I have ever read about.
March 1, 2008
I'm looking for more language on this topic. This book isn't really providing much new language because it simplifies, but it's still a fascinating docket on a matter. For every phenomena there is a first occurrence, this is a very well told & sensitive treatment of the first recorded FTM transition using medical science.
Also weaves in stories of other gender characters in the media frenzy in the 40s & 50s. Easy read with fun facts, but not particularly thought-provoking.
Also weaves in stories of other gender characters in the media frenzy in the 40s & 50s. Easy read with fun facts, but not particularly thought-provoking.
January 2, 2013
As much as this is a topic near and dear to my heart, I couldn't force myself to finish the book. The author jumps around from topic to topic without any clear segways, and the writing is highly unengaging. Despite wanting people to learn and understand more about the transgendered population, I wouldn't recommend this book. There are too many others out there that are much, much more easy to read and understand.
December 7, 2013
Born a female
Transitioned to male with testosterone and penile surgery
Was the doctor on a merchant ship
Went to India to become a monk
No love affair within these pages
Still an interesting story of a man much ahead of his time in a world with much narrower minds than now.
Kennedy's writing is bland but effective but at times a little too "fictiony".
Roberta Cowell was in much need of plastic surgery, her face still very mannish after vagina surgery.
Transitioned to male with testosterone and penile surgery
Was the doctor on a merchant ship
Went to India to become a monk
No love affair within these pages
Still an interesting story of a man much ahead of his time in a world with much narrower minds than now.
Kennedy's writing is bland but effective but at times a little too "fictiony".
Roberta Cowell was in much need of plastic surgery, her face still very mannish after vagina surgery.
January 30, 2015
This book was really interesting. Throughout I was struck with the difficulties of using the correct pronouns and currently accepted terminology when writing about one of the first documented trans man who underwent hormone treatment as well as surgery to pass. In the western world, at least, I don't know much about the history of trans people in other areas of the world! An interesting biography of an interesting man.
September 19, 2007
Interesting and tragic book about the life of the first transsexual to successfully transition, after surgery, from a woman to a man. I found Laura/ Michael Dillon's story very sad- he really never was able to fit in to society and died penniless in India after his attempts at becoming a monk failed when he made his genetic gender known.
December 24, 2007
An inclusive (as far as I know) history on transsexuals/transgenderism. The voice and angle are great, and the book is very informative. Started reading it for a social work essay, and finished the rest out of interest. Also explains where the term "transgender" came from... and I won't spoil it for you!
September 12, 2011
Kind of interesting, but a bit colorless. The source material Kennedy was working from couldn't have been easy - it was contradictory and spotty. I did like learning something about the history of treatments for trans-people, painful as it is. It was mostly about Michael Dillon, a trans-man who managed to stay out of the spotlight and almost out of history.
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