Daniel M. Lavery

In college, my professors tried to explain literary criticism to me—but I mean, how hard can it be? You take a series of principles and apply them to literature. So, for example, consider feminism and the place women are assigned throughout human history, and ask what we can learn when we re-read Chaucer’s 14th century “Wife of Bath”. The answer is quite a lot. If re-reading Chaucer as a feminist sounds tiresome to you, then you are like most people. If it sounds intriguing, as it show more did to me, then, you should go to graduate school. Daniel Alexander Mallory Ortberg's collection of essays, Something That May Shock and Discredit You, is "Personal Trans Lit Crit" done for all sorts of cultural output—books, TV, movies, the Bible, and so forth. What does the author learn about the trans experience when he reconsiders the Golden Girls, the Adamms family, and oh, how about Jacob and Esau? Anne of Greene Gables? Sometimes this is done as quick, semi-opaque satire, and is funny. Other times, it is profound—when the essence of Hans Christian Andersen’s creativity reverberates off the core questions every trans person asks-- I mean, wow! There are many, many brilliant personal memoir-esque moments in this book as well—but the author is so afraid of falling into “typical trans book tropes”, that he starts off on one journey and then veers as quickly as possible into something else. This is fine! The book sometimes feels like a “coming of age trans” story, but it is not. It’s a book of essays, some quite satirical and alongside or adjacent to the trans theme. So this is NOT a triumph memoir! In the brilliant moments, this book is brilliant. At about 1/3rd way in, I was ready to call it the most wonderful book about the trans experience I’d ever read—it appeals to all the geeky, eclectic brainerisms I enjoy, and yet has subtle moments of poignancy that precisely captures feelings that I recognize. Then I ran into a chapter that didn’t work. At all! And I thought, “goodness, couldn’t he have cut this chapter? Oh well. On to the next…” And there was another one! And then, a return to stunning quality, movement, an acceleration and deepening of the literary reach… “oh no!” I thought, “I bet readers just stopped on those bad chapters. How can I tell everyone about this so they can know to keep going, because it gets so damn good later?” A superhero version of me made stickers that said “skip chapters blank and blank! But keep reading!” And applied them to every copy of the book. That’s it then. This is an amazing book. But when you get to a chapter that clearly isn’t working at all, just skip it. There’s a few of them. I won’t tell you which ones are which, because of course yours will be different than mine. But don’t skip the "abs" chapter. I’ll note that if you have any kind of familiarity with Christianity and scripture, the book will be funnier for you. You’ll know I mean you if you didn’t blink at my use of the term “scripture” in the previous sentence. In other words, if you ever went to a Christian camp at any time in your life, you’ll get more of the jokes and more of the thought-provoking satirical poetic moments. This book will be more enjoyable for you if you are, or ever were, an intellectual Christian *and* you’ve read just about everything, and you've seen all movies and TV shows from ever, *and* you are also trans/non-binary/gender-non-conforming/just generally a queer. But in general? Five stars. Recommended. show less

Daniel Mallory Ortberg makes a valiant entry into the "retellings of fairy tales" genre with this collection. I have to say that knowing the author only from their role as "Dear Prudie" on slate.com, I was impressed and surprised by the strength of their writing and inventiveness of their imagination. However, the quality of the stories varied widely. The haunting retelling of the velveteen rabbit, "The Rabbit," is the kind of story I can see being anthologized in years to come as a classic show more tale of horror. "The Daughter Cells" and "The Six Boy-Coffins" are both thought-provoking takes on the conventions and assumptions that recur in many fairy tales. Fairy tales teach children about the structures and gendered expectations of the world, while serving as a useful outlet for fear, and Ortberg understands that at a deep level. Unfortunately for me, about half the stories did not really work, so the star rating is lower than might be expected. The stories that land, land hard, but the stories that flopped really skewed my overall take-away. Still, I will keep Ortberg in mind as an author to watch for. show less

I am an unapologetic (Daniel*) Mallory Ortberg fangirl. I've followed his work since the Toast, was overcome with glee when he took over Dear Prudence and basically think he can do no wrong. I also love faerie tales and hate short stories, so that's pretty much the context for where I'm coming from.

Ortberg is a master of language and it shines here. His wit is subtle, but biting, and each story quickly comes into focus with a clear tone and setting, in a way that many short stories authors show more struggle with. In a lot of ways, the book reminded me of Kelly Link's work -- designed as an intellectual puzzle that left you feeling something, without necessarily understanding why or what was literally happening in the story. Which is a super cool effect. But sometimes, a girl just wants to get what's happening, so by the end of the book the impact of that had kind of worn off.

My favorite stories was the first, a really atmospheric retelling of The Little Mermaid, perhaps because many of the conceits that Ortberg used throughout the book were new and shiny still then. I loved the way Ortberg played with my expectations of "mermaid" by introducing radial symmetry, and the administrative humor of the Rules of the Fae. The siren/selkie tale later on used a lot of the same tricks, but just felt less cool.

The two Frog & Toad-based stories stood out. Both because I don't consider Frog & Toad a faerie tale, but also they both had the same tone of passive aggressive/gaslighting horror. (Which was kind of also present in the Merry Spinster -- where Beauty basically just bullied everyone by "never thinking of herself") And yes, that is my personal bogeyman, but at the same time, I kind of wanted to be like "who hurt you?"

*Daniel Mallory Orbterg came out as a transman and changed his name coincident to the publishing of this book. show less

Mallory Ortberg, popular writer for websites such as The Hairpin and The Toast, has expanded her ingenious "Texts From" series into a book. What if the various authors, poets, and characters you studied in school had the ability to text? Hamlet would probably be a whiny teenager who refuses to come out of his room for dinner. William Carlos Williams would be constantly bugging his wife to bring home more plums from the grocery store. And Mrs. Bennet certainly wouldn't miss an opportunity to show more urge her daughters to snag rich husbands! From Achilles to Virginia Woolf, Wuthering Heights to Sweet Valley High, nothing is safe from Ortberg's satirical (and often punctuation-less) eye.

It's hard to review humor because it's so subjective: You either think it's funny or you don't. I'm definitely a fan of Ortberg's style -- the texts from Jane Eyre had me ROLLING the first time I read them! -- so I enjoyed this book. I definitely think it helps to be familiar with the source material; most of the literary references are to pretty famous works, but there are also sections on The Hunger Games and The Baby-Sitters Club, so it's a rather random, eclectic mix. The biggest criticism I have about the book is that it's kind of one-note. The premise is funny, but there's really nothing more to it. Basically, I don't think it's a book that I'd need to read over and over again, but it would be a great gift for someone who loves literature! show less