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3.64 AVERAGE
3.64 AVERAGE
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book is very beautifully written. It's so easy to imagine the various European locations, Paris, Denmark, Dresden. I don't trust many male authors to write women well, but Ebershoff did write Greta and Lili wonderfully.
The writing is delicate and descriptive, the characters colourful and unique.
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
challenging
emotional
hopeful
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I was in love with this book from the first chapter. I found it beautifully done and well written. The one thing that didn't sit well with me was how the author used creative license to make it that Lili doesn't remember what Einar does and Einar doesn't remember what Lili does. I found that really inaccurate and it took away from this beautiful love story. I was disappointed with the ending but I suppose that's me looking at it with 21st century eyes.
A long goodbye, this novel is, more so than the movie - which was lovely in its own way, with Eddie Redmayne's beautiful portrayal of Einar/ Lili. The book is lovely in itself, and sad, so very sad, a story of many partings just as much as a story of discovery and becoming.
The shining element, the one that infused life into this novel, was Greta. She, to me, was the hero of Ebershoff's fictionalized account of Lili Elbe's life. Her portrayal stunning, emotional, raw at times. I wanted to hold her hand, to hug her, to tell her it's all going to be ok. I understood her feelings of jealousy and betrayal, her inability to let go, her longing, even her anger at finding out that the husband who refused to give her a child desired a child with someone else.
David Ebershoff handled this subject with delicacy, avoiding almost all crassness (I didn't understand the need for the brothel scenes, but that's just me and it was only a fleeting moment). His focus is on the marriage, the minutiae that make and break relationships, besides the individual portrayals of Einar/ Lili and Greta. Both characters are treated with much care and the respect they deserved and I applaud the author for managing to do this without judgement, without handholding the reader or infusing personal views into the story. He let his characters tell their own story, in their own way.
I love how this novel is about relationships, about love that survives so much extreme change, about the characters themselves, and avoids entirely to become political, militant. He doesn't preach, he merely facilitates us getting to know these people intimately.
The book takes us on a journey through Copenhagen, Paris, Dresden and California, as much as on a journey through Einar/ Lili and Greta's lives I would have maybe loved more spatial context, especially during the Paris leg - which gave off a bright vibe, which was sadly left half-explored. But the Copenhagen chapters, at least, were perfectly in tune with the depicted events, space and characters moving together, influencing one another. Ebershoff's prose is alluring, it seduced me equally as the story itself.
Movie or book? It's one of those instances where it's hard to decide, I loved them both just as much.
The shining element, the one that infused life into this novel, was Greta. She, to me, was the hero of Ebershoff's fictionalized account of Lili Elbe's life. Her portrayal stunning, emotional, raw at times. I wanted to hold her hand, to hug her, to tell her it's all going to be ok. I understood her feelings of jealousy and betrayal, her inability to let go, her longing, even her anger at finding out that the husband who refused to give her a child desired a child with someone else.
David Ebershoff handled this subject with delicacy, avoiding almost all crassness (I didn't understand the need for the brothel scenes, but that's just me and it was only a fleeting moment). His focus is on the marriage, the minutiae that make and break relationships, besides the individual portrayals of Einar/ Lili and Greta. Both characters are treated with much care and the respect they deserved and I applaud the author for managing to do this without judgement, without handholding the reader or infusing personal views into the story. He let his characters tell their own story, in their own way.
I love how this novel is about relationships, about love that survives so much extreme change, about the characters themselves, and avoids entirely to become political, militant. He doesn't preach, he merely facilitates us getting to know these people intimately.
The book takes us on a journey through Copenhagen, Paris, Dresden and California, as much as on a journey through Einar/ Lili and Greta's lives I would have maybe loved more spatial context, especially during the Paris leg - which gave off a bright vibe, which was sadly left half-explored. But the Copenhagen chapters, at least, were perfectly in tune with the depicted events, space and characters moving together, influencing one another. Ebershoff's prose is alluring, it seduced me equally as the story itself.
Movie or book? It's one of those instances where it's hard to decide, I loved them both just as much.
The Danish Girl by David Ebershoff
Spoilers beware!
CW: sexual assault (not between Greta and Lili/Einar), non-consensual kissing (not between Greta and Lili/Einar), racially insensitive writing, semi-graphic depictions of unpleasant & outdated (& unethical by modern standards) medical procedures, voyeurism, internalised homophobia, period-typical sexism and homophobia, minor slutshaming, objectification
So, The Danish Girl wasn’t what I expected. In short, I wanted to like this a lot more than I did.
The characters seemed very flat at times, and for a story about the transformation of a trans woman and the transformation of a marriage, there's very little feeling to the characters themselves.
Einar is so repressed he feels like a wrung-out cloth that's hanging together by sheer existential dread and fear.
Greta is written as an American woman with a spine, and huh, that's one way to put it. Greta was an okay character up until the point where she sexually assaulted her first husband Teddy Cross before they were married. He told her no - more than once! - but she didn’t listen and kept pushing to have sex with him until his protests died down and they did the deed. And why was she so persistent? In fact, she did it so they would be caught and, per early 1900s standards, be married to avoid scandal in their community. And later, when she reminisces about her first husband, she has the audacity to wonder: “perhaps she and Teddy were never meant to be married. Perhaps his love for her was never as great as hers for him.” YEAH NO SHIT, GRETA. You ignored his consent and literally pushed him into marriage through sex, and you don’t show any regret for it either. Why write that Ebershoff, why???
But character flaws aside, the historical setting was well-captured, both in Copenhagen and California. Some period-typical sexism and homophobia, but since this is set in the 1930s I would like to add a content warning (CW ⚠️) for semi-graphic depictions of unpleasant & outdated (& unethical by modern standards) medical procedures and diagnoses, and what was most possibly radiation poisoning from a prolonged X-ray. Holy shit, am I glad for modern medicinal breakthroughs for transgender people who are accepted for their preferred gender and don't have to deal with stuff like this. Also can we just have a little moment of relieved silence that lobotomies no longer exist? Thank you.
Aside from the long, gradual process of Einar meeting with different doctors to at first try and "help" him with whatever resources they have available, and then figuring out that he wants to be fully Lili all the time, to eventually finding one who can use surgery to do so, Ebershoff also captures little moments well, the way a character goes about their day or how they talk with other people and how they feel throughout it.
But, while I like those aspects of Ebershoff’s writing, I did not like certain details that he put in the story. Specifically, he sometimes uses very outdated, racially insensitive, if not outright racist language and phrases that have not aged well. At all. According to the publication notes at the front of the book, this book was first published in 2000, now 21 years ago. Obviously, the publishing industry is quite different now than it was back then, although that is not to say there are still problems, what with white authors being favoured over BIPOC authors, income disparities and cotinual discourse of representation of identities that aren’t cis, white and straight. But I digress. There are several quotes from this book that would NOT be glossed over by any editor now. Since these lines frustrated me to the point of taking me out of the story, I have compiled a list for your own perusal, entertainment or pique, if you would like:
pg 52: "Rasmussen was bald, with Chinese-shaped eyes, a widower."
*sigh* Even if the person you're describing is Chinese, or Asian, you don't use this to describe someone's eyes!
pg 105: there is a sentence describing a "custardly breast".
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is a breast supposed to feel or smell like custard? It doesn't. Why do male authors try to use such wierd language to describe female anatomy?
pg 107: "Her rubber bathing cap, with its pneumatic smell, would pull her hair back, tugging on her cheeks and giving her an exotic look with her eyes slanted and her mouth flattened out."
OH great. Just great. Another instance of "slanted eyes", as if there needs to be more of that. And let's not forget the exotification of a white woman having her face temporarily pulled a little bit back by a swimming cap. Or wife. 1930s version of fox eye makeup. Ugh. Give me a break.
Stereotypical depictions of Roma people as thieves, who are also known as gypsies, to those of you who only know about this ethnicity from the movie The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
There's also a character whose last name is Rump, and um, I'd just like to ask, why? Why choose that as a name? There's so many other names that aren't slang for butt.
pg 175 "the girls with the wavy hair and apple-perky breasts and the boys with the thighs like hams."
Oooh look a male author comparing female breasts to fruit. Woooow. How creative. And look, there's one for the men. Hey boys, how would you like someone to take a slice of your hammy thigh?
. . . WHY? WHY WOULD YOU COMPARE BREASTS TO FRUIT AND THIGHS TO HAM? THAT'S NOT ATTRACTIVE AND IT'S NOT FUNNY.
Oh and this one grinds my gears pretty well:
pg 174: "Rump escorted the man through the academic balls, where the floors were gray and unvarnished and swept clean by orphan girls not old enough to conceive."
What. The. Fuck. Is. That. Description. Why would anyone need to describe children like that? Of course a young girl can't conceive, she's a literal child. Why do you have to bring their reproductive capability, or lack thereof, to the reader's attention? Just write orphaned girls or orphaned children and be done with it, for God's sake. I have no idea what the author was thinking of when he wrote this sentence but yeah this is wierd and sus to me.
pg 214 " 'Asleep since you left', said Akiko, whose eyes were as black as the bruised skin on Carlisle's shin."
*heavy sigh* Why? Why compare an Asian woman's eyes, why compare anyone's eyes, to a bruise? Where's the artistry in that? There isn't any!!!
pg 210, where a couple of 11 year old boys walking on the street call Lili a "lesbienne" as an insult (which, for 11 year old boys, seems like something they'd say) but Lili gets really upset by this: "these pretty little boys had managed to hurl something so cruel, and wrong".
Sorry, Ebershoff, are lesbians wrong? Is Lili's relationship with Greta now only as friends because she's now a woman? Seems like it. Would the real Lili Elbe think this? I don't know, no one can answer that, but you wrote Einar and another man watching each other masterbate in an earlier scene and that's not really straight. Also, content warning for voyeurism for that scene. It wasn't comfortable to read.
AND, why did the author keep repeating that Lili has thin ankles? I found it very odd. Take this on pg 239: "and then her ankles, which from a distance looked no thicker than a child's, began to step quickly away from Greta."
This creepy way of infantilizing Lili continues in the next chapter. Pg 241: "Lili, who had gained even more strength, accepted - the way a child accepts a mother's kiss - Henrik's offer of marriage."
In what universe is this supposed to be a good way to describe a proposal of marriage? Is this supposed to be loving and romantic? Guess what, Ebershoff? It's not!
That leads me up to something that I didn't expect; for a book about a transgender woman going through the journey of accepting herself and getting surgery to fix her body, the latter half of this book has a lot of what feels like compulsory heterosexuality and heteronormativity. I get this was the 1930s and all, but I couldn't help being disappointed that now that Lili is a woman inside and out, she doesn't want to be a painter anymore. No. None of that working stuff. She wants to be a man's wife, a housewife and a mother. Which, I get the fact that you can choose who you want to be at any point in life, but this was a letdown. Lili could have done anything but this author chose to write her like this.
I can't comment on how accurate the trans rep is here, as I am not trans myself, but I don't think it's normal to have selective amnesia from the time of your life before your transition. Becuase Lili doesn't remember her childhood as Einar after her surgeries. She doesn't even recognize her own paintings that she did as Einar, the ones that made up such a big part of her life from before.
The ending was too open-ended for my taste. It gives the sense that Lili's story has a lot more left, and it doesn't fully acknowledge the fact that Lili's last operation (a uterus transplant) is what killed her.
Do I think an actual transgender person will one day write a better, more nuanced, fictionalized story about the life of Lili Elbe? Yes, I do. I look forward to that, cause I'm looking down on this author's writing.
Spoilers beware!
CW: sexual assault (not between Greta and Lili/Einar), non-consensual kissing (not between Greta and Lili/Einar), racially insensitive writing, semi-graphic depictions of unpleasant & outdated (& unethical by modern standards) medical procedures, voyeurism, internalised homophobia, period-typical sexism and homophobia, minor slutshaming, objectification
So, The Danish Girl wasn’t what I expected. In short, I wanted to like this a lot more than I did.
The characters seemed very flat at times, and for a story about the transformation of a trans woman and the transformation of a marriage, there's very little feeling to the characters themselves.
Einar is so repressed he feels like a wrung-out cloth that's hanging together by sheer existential dread and fear.
Greta is written as an American woman with a spine, and huh, that's one way to put it. Greta was an okay character up until the point where she sexually assaulted her first husband Teddy Cross before they were married. He told her no - more than once! - but she didn’t listen and kept pushing to have sex with him until his protests died down and they did the deed. And why was she so persistent? In fact, she did it so they would be caught and, per early 1900s standards, be married to avoid scandal in their community. And later, when she reminisces about her first husband, she has the audacity to wonder: “perhaps she and Teddy were never meant to be married. Perhaps his love for her was never as great as hers for him.” YEAH NO SHIT, GRETA. You ignored his consent and literally pushed him into marriage through sex, and you don’t show any regret for it either. Why write that Ebershoff, why???
But character flaws aside, the historical setting was well-captured, both in Copenhagen and California. Some period-typical sexism and homophobia, but since this is set in the 1930s I would like to add a content warning (CW ⚠️) for semi-graphic depictions of unpleasant & outdated (& unethical by modern standards) medical procedures and diagnoses, and what was most possibly radiation poisoning from a prolonged X-ray. Holy shit, am I glad for modern medicinal breakthroughs for transgender people who are accepted for their preferred gender and don't have to deal with stuff like this. Also can we just have a little moment of relieved silence that lobotomies no longer exist? Thank you.
Aside from the long, gradual process of Einar meeting with different doctors to at first try and "help" him with whatever resources they have available, and then figuring out that he wants to be fully Lili all the time, to eventually finding one who can use surgery to do so, Ebershoff also captures little moments well, the way a character goes about their day or how they talk with other people and how they feel throughout it.
But, while I like those aspects of Ebershoff’s writing, I did not like certain details that he put in the story. Specifically, he sometimes uses very outdated, racially insensitive, if not outright racist language and phrases that have not aged well. At all. According to the publication notes at the front of the book, this book was first published in 2000, now 21 years ago. Obviously, the publishing industry is quite different now than it was back then, although that is not to say there are still problems, what with white authors being favoured over BIPOC authors, income disparities and cotinual discourse of representation of identities that aren’t cis, white and straight. But I digress. There are several quotes from this book that would NOT be glossed over by any editor now. Since these lines frustrated me to the point of taking me out of the story, I have compiled a list for your own perusal, entertainment or pique, if you would like:
pg 52: "Rasmussen was bald, with Chinese-shaped eyes, a widower."
*sigh* Even if the person you're describing is Chinese, or Asian, you don't use this to describe someone's eyes!
pg 105: there is a sentence describing a "custardly breast".
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is a breast supposed to feel or smell like custard? It doesn't. Why do male authors try to use such wierd language to describe female anatomy?
pg 107: "Her rubber bathing cap, with its pneumatic smell, would pull her hair back, tugging on her cheeks and giving her an exotic look with her eyes slanted and her mouth flattened out."
OH great. Just great. Another instance of "slanted eyes", as if there needs to be more of that. And let's not forget the exotification of a white woman having her face temporarily pulled a little bit back by a swimming cap. Or wife. 1930s version of fox eye makeup. Ugh. Give me a break.
Stereotypical depictions of Roma people as thieves, who are also known as gypsies, to those of you who only know about this ethnicity from the movie The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
There's also a character whose last name is Rump, and um, I'd just like to ask, why? Why choose that as a name? There's so many other names that aren't slang for butt.
pg 175 "the girls with the wavy hair and apple-perky breasts and the boys with the thighs like hams."
Oooh look a male author comparing female breasts to fruit. Woooow. How creative. And look, there's one for the men. Hey boys, how would you like someone to take a slice of your hammy thigh?
. . . WHY? WHY WOULD YOU COMPARE BREASTS TO FRUIT AND THIGHS TO HAM? THAT'S NOT ATTRACTIVE AND IT'S NOT FUNNY.
Oh and this one grinds my gears pretty well:
pg 174: "Rump escorted the man through the academic balls, where the floors were gray and unvarnished and swept clean by orphan girls not old enough to conceive."
What. The. Fuck. Is. That. Description. Why would anyone need to describe children like that? Of course a young girl can't conceive, she's a literal child. Why do you have to bring their reproductive capability, or lack thereof, to the reader's attention? Just write orphaned girls or orphaned children and be done with it, for God's sake. I have no idea what the author was thinking of when he wrote this sentence but yeah this is wierd and sus to me.
pg 214 " 'Asleep since you left', said Akiko, whose eyes were as black as the bruised skin on Carlisle's shin."
*heavy sigh* Why? Why compare an Asian woman's eyes, why compare anyone's eyes, to a bruise? Where's the artistry in that? There isn't any!!!
pg 210, where a couple of 11 year old boys walking on the street call Lili a "lesbienne" as an insult (which, for 11 year old boys, seems like something they'd say) but Lili gets really upset by this: "these pretty little boys had managed to hurl something so cruel, and wrong".
Sorry, Ebershoff, are lesbians wrong? Is Lili's relationship with Greta now only as friends because she's now a woman? Seems like it. Would the real Lili Elbe think this? I don't know, no one can answer that, but you wrote Einar and another man watching each other masterbate in an earlier scene and that's not really straight. Also, content warning for voyeurism for that scene. It wasn't comfortable to read.
AND, why did the author keep repeating that Lili has thin ankles? I found it very odd. Take this on pg 239: "and then her ankles, which from a distance looked no thicker than a child's, began to step quickly away from Greta."
This creepy way of infantilizing Lili continues in the next chapter. Pg 241: "Lili, who had gained even more strength, accepted - the way a child accepts a mother's kiss - Henrik's offer of marriage."
In what universe is this supposed to be a good way to describe a proposal of marriage? Is this supposed to be loving and romantic? Guess what, Ebershoff? It's not!
That leads me up to something that I didn't expect; for a book about a transgender woman going through the journey of accepting herself and getting surgery to fix her body, the latter half of this book has a lot of what feels like compulsory heterosexuality and heteronormativity. I get this was the 1930s and all, but I couldn't help being disappointed that now that Lili is a woman inside and out, she doesn't want to be a painter anymore. No. None of that working stuff. She wants to be a man's wife, a housewife and a mother. Which, I get the fact that you can choose who you want to be at any point in life, but this was a letdown. Lili could have done anything but this author chose to write her like this.
I can't comment on how accurate the trans rep is here, as I am not trans myself, but I don't think it's normal to have selective amnesia from the time of your life before your transition. Becuase Lili doesn't remember her childhood as Einar after her surgeries. She doesn't even recognize her own paintings that she did as Einar, the ones that made up such a big part of her life from before.
The ending was too open-ended for my taste. It gives the sense that Lili's story has a lot more left, and it doesn't fully acknowledge the fact that Lili's last operation (a uterus transplant) is what killed her.
Do I think an actual transgender person will one day write a better, more nuanced, fictionalized story about the life of Lili Elbe? Yes, I do. I look forward to that, cause I'm looking down on this author's writing.
I was interested in reading this book because I heard Eddie Redmayne is starring in the movie adaptation later this year, and it sounded like a very intriguing story. And it is! Lili Elbe was one of the first to have sex reassignment surgery, and this story followed her transformation. What bothered me was how, in the later half of the story, those closest to Lili treated her with such kid gloves, and it dawned on me that they talked a lot around her, but not always to or with her. It was as if she was some fantastical creature they had to be delicate with at all times, and it just set a weird tone with me. I don't know if that's the impression others would have, but that's how it came across to me. Regardless, the book definitely sent me down a few rabbit holes learning more about Lili and Christine Jorgensen. Overall it's well-written, and an intricate study of human emotion.