I actually liked Gender Outlaw when I first read it.
I’ve met Kate on a couple of occasions and like her a lot. In person she is warm and funny.
Sometimes she infuriates the hell out of me with certain pronouncements she makes.
But I would be a very lonely person if I held a grudge against everyone who ever said something that pissed me off.
I also wouldn’t have the energy to go after people who piss me off most of the time
This allows me to be angry when someone, I agree with much of the time, says something that torques me off. I say some bitchy shit about them and then I get over it.
Kate’s like that.
I like funny iconoclastic people who say things that make me think. I like them better than dogmatists who never have an original thought in their head.
Kate makes people think instead of telling them what to think.
Others make the mistake of thinking Kate represents all of us when that isn’t something anyone can do.
I also think that when we can we should support our creative sisters and brothers by buying and reading their books, see their plays, buy their recordings etc.
If my budget wasn’t so tight I would have put her book in my Amazon cart along with something else to make the shipping free and read it before suggesting others buy it.
As it is I’m going to give you a couple of links with teasers instead.
Maybe one of my friends will give it to me as a birthday present.
A Queer and Pleasant Danger: Kate Bornstein, Trans Scientology Survivor
The iconic “gender outlaw” on escaping the Church of Scientology and talking transgender rights on MSNBC.
—By Nicole Pasulka
Sat May. 5, 2012
“I identify as neither male nor female. . . . I’m neither straight nor gay,” wrote transgender performer and author Kate Bornstein in her seminal 1994 book Gender Outlaw. Born in 1948 on the Jersey Shore to a loving mother and a dad who was “a macho, macho man,” Bornstein left theater school in Massachusetts at the age of 22 on a spiritual journey that culminated in a 12-year stint in the Church of Scientology’s Sea Org, an elite group of members who were based on ships and functioned like a religious order. Bornstein was excommunicated from the Church in 1982 and branded a “subversive person.” In exile she’s found her voice as a liberated, post-op, transsexual lesbian icon—though, of course, Bornstein bucks labels like these every chance she gets.
What the lengthy title of Bornstein’s new memoir, A Queer and Pleasant Danger: The True Story of a Nice Jewish Boy who Joins the Church of Scientology and Leaves Twelve Years Later to Become the Lovely Lady She Is Today (on sale May 1, 2012) doesn’t reveal is how scared she’s been to talk about her time in the Church, until now. Thanks to the TV show “South Park,” which satirized Scientology for mainstream audiences, and the hope that this story might someday reach Bornstein’s daughter, who’s still a member of the Church, she’s overcome her fear of retribution. Today, Bornstein says pretty much whatever she pleases about sex, gender, and Scientology—with fearless humor and a “fuck of a lot of love.”