Conundrum (New York Review Books Classics)

A soldier and correspondent, who once climbed Mount Everest with Mallory in 1953, changes his sex twenty years later and explains transsexualism in a flight of fanciful prose fit for an Oxford graduate. Jan Morris resigns from a successful male life to live out her days as a writer of books and traveler of the world. In this memoir, so unlike the transsexual transition stories in the media today, Morris describes the plight of a true transsexual hiding in a male body until a time comes when he can no longer deal with the conundrum swirling around inside of him. The read can be difficult for all but the educated reader who is well versed in historical events of the time and the affluent language of the sophisticated graduate. Morris tries to dispel myths and reveal the inner workings of the mind of a true transsexual as she explains her view of the more significant events of her life. The language is poetic and very descriptive in a modernist writing style, full of internal dialog and descriptions as only an experienced correspondent and travel writer could present. If one is able to pierce the intellectual diatribe Morris uses to convey her story, they will enjoy some clever anecdotes and remarkable historical events. Unfortunately, she delves into some of the more interesting moments using conclusory statements about her inner struggle to survive nearly forty years as a male. Here, she leaves the reader wanting more but with an appreciation of what it is like to possess male body as a woman and live a rich and multifaceted life among both genders. Morris was obviously still in the throes of the excitement of realizing a life long obsession to change sex and feel normal in her own body when she wrote this story and thus concentrated almost exclusively on the positive more auspicious aspects of his conundrum. Unfortunately, she failed to target a specific audience and kept the prose vague and ethereal. It is difficult to determine whether she was avoiding much of the anguish in her early life that for the sake of her former spouse, 5 children, close friends, all who undoubtedly would be left with the aftermath of any exposé. It is no less a very well written account of her feelings while in a male body, albeit mostly the joys and absent the chaos associated with the gender dysfunction and lacked honest discussion of the internal conflict endured to achieve her dream. Unlike Lily Elbe's story twenty years earlier, Morris keepsthoughts more controlled. She establishes a brief history of the transsexual experience to date, mentioning Elbe's story, ties to the American transsexual scene of the sixties, Christine Jorgensen, and her meeting with the most influential doctor in modern history, Harry S. Benjamin, whose pioneer research set the standards and course of conduct by the medical community that extends into today. I highly recommend the book to scholars and educated persons able to negotiate the sophisticated verse and intellectual style of writing of a brilliant and well accomplished person and writer. If possible to give 4 and 1/2 stars I would. I only hold back because I felt in trying to sheild friends and family some embarrassment and pain, her writing felt circular, convoluted and restrained and it lacked the verve she has shown to possess as an experienced war correspondent as demonstrated in much of her other writing.

A couple years ago I read one of the best travel books I know: Venice, by Jan Morris, who is considered one of the best British writers of today, with a body of work that emphasizes the travelogues, but that includes fiction, history , memories and non-fiction in general.Venice is a majestic book, which made me feel naturally curious about its author. At the time it was published in Portugal an article in a portuguese newspaper aroused my curiosity: I found out that Morris was a transsexual having a sex change in the early 70s, and that part of her work, including Venice, has been published with her previous male name, James. It was still as James Morris that she participated participated, as correspondent for The Times, in the British expedition that first climbed the Everest.The interest in learning more about the author, and the precedent of the magnificent writing of Venice, brought me to Conundrum, a volume of memoirs dedicated to the half-life that Jan Morris lived with the conviction that her sex was wrong in relation to the gender she felt that she belonged to, and the process that led her to correct this error, culminating with a stay in a clinic in Casablanca. The book was first published in 1974, and this reissue just updated with a new preface by the author.The writing is excellent. Morris' english (Venice I had read in translation) is lush, with a rich vocabulary, the syntax sophisticated simplicity is almost musical. The book is organized into short chapters, in which the tone, although varying between memories more reflective and more factual account, it is always very stylish and fun, combining an english way of being affluent to a view of life from those who already knew its most secret and extravagant corners.Jan Morris's vision is somewhat dated, especially in how confined by gender stereotypes, and how these stereotypes inform her journey through the gender streaming. But it is important to remember that this book is forty years old, and since the time it was written, the way how gender overcame the most simplistic dichotomy male-female, is probably the greatest revolution of our time. Thus, it is not very reasonable to accuse Morris of a pre-revolutionary vision when, somehow, we have to thank her for having been, like many others, at the genesis of this revolution.Conundrum means enigma. The leitmotif of this admirable, deep, funny and intense book is not so much the search for an answer to the riddle, but rather the process of learning how to live with it.

I was amazed at the courage the author exhibited during her whole life. The author conveys the painful and difficult issues a human being confronts when gender confusion can enter one's consciousness. Human beings need to understand how our hormones affect the body and consciousness, just to recognize their effect, if nothing else. I remember arguing with my university Philosophy professor that women did not produce sexualized "thoughts". They were neutral. Our response to them can be dictated by our hormones. He argued back that hormones color every thought. I still stick by my stance.

La peripecia personal de Jan Morris

Two books in one, a great autobiography of an outstanding writer, observer and traveller, and a very insightful account of one person's gender transition.Whatever to imagine to be true or important about transition will be altered by this book, it's full of insight and humanity. It transformed my understanding and enabled me to see transgender people I meet in a very different way. It's also made it much easier to become friends with some of those people.

With Jan Morris elegance Jan tackles the time he became a she without further ado.Father of 5 children .Having to divorce his wife in order to have the surgery he so wanted .Interestingly the way he was treated as a male then as a female after the change.I found that very interesting.A Book I would give to anyone who was in this predicament .Well written ; why not ? after all as a man his work as an International correspondence shows .Read it ..Then read Jan’s new book ‘My diary .Loved both:

Thoroughly enjoyed the book which by itself deserved 5 stars. However the reader, though very good, should have researched the pronunciation of Welsh names a little more. The village Trefan for example. A single letter f has the sound of an English letter v

I read the book as part of my understanding intersectional issues including those of LGBTQIA