c.2026, Gallery Books $30.00 238 pages
Okay, let’s just say it: you’re tired of lies.
They come from above, behind, from either shoulder. They’re repeated, laid out in a line, told as
if they’re true but they’re not. You wish people would stop lying to you. As in the new memoir
“Transcendent” by Laverne Cox, you wish you could tell the truth about yourself.
Sissy.
If the bullies in the neighborhood weren’t constantly calling Leverne Cox that name, then Cox’s
mother was. “Sissy,” was just one word, though; the others were worse. The boys would say
those things while they beat Cox, when they could catch her. Her mother screamed them at her
gentle child who didn’t like “boy” activities.
Even at eight years old, says Cox, “I was a prim and proper lady.”
Despite the verbal abuse about her perceived feminine behavior and a furtive, failed attempt at
conversion therapy, Cox’s mother sent her and her brother to the Alabama School of Fine Arts,
where Cox learned to dance. It was a lifeline for her, and the talent gained there helped Cox get
into college in Indiana.
From there, Cox expected to find fame and fortune in New York City.
And yet, the abuse she suffered as a child held Cox back, and the words “There is something
wrong with me” became a daily mantra.
“I didn’t know how to say it.” Cox says. “I’m a girl.”
There were therapy sessions to get to that point, as Cox learned the language and skills needed
to speak the truth. Landing a sense of style helped, as did her brother’s support, a handful of
friends, and happy, scent-infused memories of her mother’s make-up table.
At each step, Cox says, “I was expressing myself, I was also allowing myself to edge closer to
my girlhood.”
Let’s start here: “Transcendent” is a difficult read – not for style, but for substance.
From her earliest memory of being sexually abused as a toddler; to verbal and physical abuse
from many sources; to what, judging by photo captions, seems perhaps like forgiveness, author
Laverne Cox glosses over nothing. Be ready, in other words, for pages and pages of memories
that, like a roller-coaster, will make you cringe and want to hide your eyes, although doing so
would be a mistake. The best part of this memoir is in its overall.
As this book progresses, Cox’s story does, too. We see a child who knows a truth but has no
words for it. The child becomes a teen with a bursting sense of self, then a young adult who
craves love as she’s stretching her wings. By the time Cox advances to writing about her career
and the abuse is (mostly) over, readers will breathe a well-deserved sigh of relief. Whew, you’ve
winced through a harrowing tale to reach a satisfying but not complete update.
Fans of Cox’s work will want “Transcendent,” as will anyone who’s transitioned, is thinking
about it, or loves someone who has. It’s a rough read, but a necessary one, then, and that’s no
lie.
