First novel by Tobi Lakmaker, Dutch autofiction My sexuality in all its forms is not exactly the reading you might expect. Full of humor, with a slightly offbeat tone, forget here the anticipated story about transidentity. Welcome instead to a world of fluidity. Explanations and appreciation, in three parts.
Why we are talking about it
Translated from Dutch by Daniel Cunin, in bookstores here on Wednesday, September 4, My sexuality in all its formspublished in 2020, is to be translated into 12 languages soon. In Europe, the interest is clear. And widespread. Acclaimed in the Netherlands, Tobi Lakmaker was crowned literary talent of the year by the Vogue in 2021. The novel was released in English last January and the Guardian London celebrated its humour in particular, and above all a certain and deliberate lightness, rather unusual for a text which deals, among other things, with identity, it must be said. Irish Times has meanwhile highlighted a “funny, joyful and totally irreverent” pen. It should be noted that the author, Tobi Lakmaker, born in 1994 and today a journalist and columnist in Amsterdam, first bore the name Sofie, a first name that he shares (shared) with his main character. This is of course no coincidence. Another similarity: his childhood, in an intellectual Jewish family in Amsterdam. Not to mention his studies: Russian, literature, then philosophy. No one will be surprised and he makes no secret of it, Tobi Lakmaker was also “largely” inspired here by his life. “It’s the most intimate story that I had to tell,” he confided to the media United by Popemphasizing that he was driven by a sense of “urgency.” And it quickly becomes clear why.
The story
“For me, being a woman – it wasn’t a given,” writes the narrator (sorry: the narrator, Sofie, therefore), in a statement that sets the tone, direct and without much explanation, and this, from the prologue. To give you an idea, a few lines later, “Do you want to know more? Call me. By the way, I am in no way a transgender person…” Certainly, but certainly a person who has always felt “out of place”. The expression comes up two or three times in this unvarnished, mocking, yet frankly vulnerable story about the discovery of this Sofie’s sexuality. First there will be a certain Walter, and this “crazy” first time that will have lasted for hours (and there is nothing to brag about there). Then Crétin D., with whom the act will also be of a “rare monotony”. Then comes Jennifer, Sofie’s very first girlfriend. “I first fell for men, then for women, of course, always for women.” It won’t be any easier right away, but it will certainly be more tender and, above all, more heartfelt. Slowly, Sofie will also become less and less of a “woman.” We won’t tell you everything, but you should know that the text, which is non-linear (and at times the digressions are confusing, although always entertaining), then recounts her studies in literature and Russian, several school trips, always and by various detours returning to her loves, and of course her sexuality. Which will earn us this amusing comment: “In this respect, I am a little more like Sigmund Freud than I thought.” The last part of the book, which is very short, deals with the death of her mother, who always called her “my daughter,” a pretext for a touching reflection.
The interest
A word first on the abundant Dutch literary and cultural references, which make this reading a real journey to the Netherlands. It should be noted that while the text is certainly about this transition of Sofie’s character, nothing is decided here. Except perhaps this uneasiness, which is unbearable, when she passes in front of a mirror and sees her reflection. It’s not surprising that the text is so telling. Sofie is “off the mark”, it has been said, but who hasn’t been? By telling the story of this literature student who dreams of becoming famous, who is constantly criticized for her hair being too short, by proposing a fluid character, who does not fit into any box, while undergoing the looks and comments of others (and some passages on the Amsterdam lesbian scene are colorful), not to mention all her anxiety attacks and unexplained stomach aches, Tobi Lakmaker reveals himself to be very vulnerable, although without ever losing his tone of lightness. And when, in conclusion, we read that his Sofie wants to become “less girl and more boy”, thus openly claiming this fluidity, the nuance takes on its full meaning. It also recalls the recent comments of an author from our own country. Recently in an interview with our colleague Marc Cassivi, Kev Lambert (the first name he now uses), also in transition, for his part rather “neither girl nor boy”, said this: “the fixity, the petrification, it makes me anxious”. Clearly, Tobi Lakmaker is not alone. And his writing opens a window on his reality, as complex and changing as it may be.
My sexuality in all its forms
The People
246 pages