In April 2019, Liam Konemann idly began work on what he thought of as ‘the appendix’ - a record of ongoing transphobia in the UK that he came across. But when his mental health began to spiral, he turned his attention to a different topic how do we find beauty in transmasculinity? And how do we maintain it in a world stacked against us?
The Appendix explores transphobia in UK media, as well as the trauma of living in a society constantly debating you. Liam explains his time spent ‘stealth’ after moving to the UK, his false belief that witnessing the transphobia by documenting it would lead people to change their behaviours - that if he could only show them the effects on people like him, it would all stop - and the peaks and troughs of anxiety. More so, he turns the focus to the more positive representations and experiences, capturing - as he sought - the beauty in transmasculinity.
While the name is incredibly deceiving (very little joy to be found), this is an excellent portrait of what it is like living as a (passing) trans man in the UK today. Konemann discusses his own experience as well as the public discourse that follows him around. It is usually quite depressing, but there is joy to be found, and I really appreciate that he found it in the grueling reality, instead of sugarcoating his experience.
The Appendix is a book about a personal response to transphobia in the media and trying to focus on joy despite this hostility. Part of the 404 Ink 'Inklings' series that take a big idea in a pocket-sized format, it is almost a mini-memoir, a snapshot of Liam Konemann reacting to media transphobia, navigating being a gay trans man today, and thinking about his and others' futures.
Though I preordered this as one of the Inklings series, I have to take a moment to say I would've definitely judged it by its cover and picked it up regardless of topic, as someone who has been wearing Doc Martens since they were 15 (now I'm wondering if there's a future Inkling on shoes as personal identity). It is also just a really beautifully designed cover.
Anyway, to the inside of the book. Konemann starts with his previous version of 'The Appendix': noting down transphobia in the media that he came across in day-to-day life, without looking for it. The rules he created meant he couldn't go searching for something he saw people hinting about online, which is maybe an under-appreciated way of getting caught up reading hostile content because you want to understand what people are whispering about on Twitter, but even with limits, the list of course grew and grew. When his mental health was affected, he started questioning doing this, and whether energy is better directed towards joy and beauty, and this kind of transformation of being trapped reading online hate into moving past that to focusing on the real and the present feels like an important message to be sharing.
On a personal note, as a non-binary person there were some little relatable moments (that childhood illicit thrill of being seen as a boy, even momentarily; everyone's reactions to Elliot Page) that were fun, and though personal essays and memoirs don't need relatable moments to enjoy them, these do fit in with some of what Konemann says in terms of what models he had not only for being a trans man, but also for coming out to people. On the other hand, as Konemann himself notes, this book is his own experience and is not universal, and finding joy, solidarity, and safety is not going to be the same for everyone.
As with the previous Inklings book I read (Love That Journey For Me by Emily Garside), I think the size and length of this series is a real positive, making them easy to sit down and read, and Konemann tackles ideas that could take up a lot more space (and other people have done so) in a concise way through the lens of personal experience and growth. It's a personal book, but it's also a chance to reflect (and look at a cool picture of Doc Martens). If The Appendix can make more people do what a lot of trans people on the internet have been calling for, and stop sharing all the transphobic tweets and news stories across everyone's timelines, giving them more engagement and clicks, and think more about sharing content that will support trans people and further trans joy, then that could be nice.
This book tackles a lot of sadness but manages to tie it up with joy in an amazing way. It felt euphoric to read in terms of the sense of understanding and solidarity it provided, and in the hope that cis people might read it and better understand what it means to live in the UK as a trans person today.
Veel herkenning. Maar het stuk van het boek dat daadwerkelijk over trans joy ging was nogal kort in vergelijking met het stuk over transfobie. Zeker belangrijk, maar niet helemaal wat ik zocht
I was so excited when I saw my book app having these short and niche non fiction books and this was the one I started with. Definitely a five star read of a transmasculine memoir of sort. Short but packed a lot in it still.
i thought this would be more about joy, but I'm not disappointed about what i actually got. Liam takes the reader on a very personal journey of struggling with finding joy in his transness - all the whys and hows in a context personal to him. it could've easily been a depressing read, and I'm sure some will read it that way, but I didn't think it was at all. the book starts in a quite dark place, with Liam recounting the effect the original Appendix was having on his mental health - though it wasn't the Appendix per se, it was the relentless transphobia. at the end I was left with an impression of a man who hadn't just decided to be joyful, but had come to understand where the joy had to come from and was actively working for it.
Fantastic, short and bitter, very well-executed. I felt he talked about issues and messages that everyone else is aware of, but doesn't like to label transphobia, or one they simply choose to glance over. I felt really seen as a transman from this book, and it made me angry at the world, yet a lot closer and connected to the queer community at the same time
A short snapshot of our present moment, and a vision of how things might be. Can be. Konemann opens with an anecdote about compiling a list, ‘The Appendix’, of all the instances of transphobia he encounters in his life without seeking them out - I think so many of us are compiling that list, without even recognising it - and closes with an ode to trans joy. Was very excited to read this as part of my commitment to reading more books from the boys, and I’m very excited to see that Konemann has a novel coming out with 404 next year. One to watch.
"Happiness despite [queer/transphobia] is a radical act" I like that. I wasnt sure what to expect when I picked this up, anger, maybe? A call to 'be ourselves no matter what!"? But rather Konemann balances his argument and discusses where he found joy amongst a background of transphobia. He doesnt necessarily hide the transphobia, but this is written in a way that elevated the joy, which isnt an easy task! I particularly enjoyed his insights on the "born this way" discourse because I've always been uncomfortable with it, and he really touched on why I feel that way. Great little read!
"You cannot expect a child to be able to tell you why they are the way they are; they can only tell you that they are."
This book is a very intimate conversation that is a snapshot of the authors experience navigating both the real world and the online world as a gay trans man. It manages to both feel happy and sad whilst touching on some very important issues. I highly recommend everyone to read this book and I want to thank Liam for writing such a moving mini memoir
This is such a personal and accessible book... I feel like I was really in Liam's brain for a while. I felt for him as he immersed himself in the bile of some people's views in order to support his argument and appreciate his dedication in doing so, much as I did when I read Laura Bates' Men Who Hate Women. As exhausting as such hate is to read, it must be so distressing to effectively live there, feeling that it is all directed at you. It was also a nice touch to see how Liam's relationship with such content had changed by the end of the book and gives me hope that other people from typically marginalised groups, such as myself, can adapt their feelings towards messaging that reach your very core if you let it.
This should be required reading for exactly the people who will likely never read it, because someone baring themselves as much as Liam has surely can do nothing else but make people see the truth of his experience and want to do everything in their power to aid and enact change where needed. Until then, I will recommend this short gem of a book to as many people as I can, hoping it reaches people who need to see themselves, who are questioning themselves and who care about people and the world and we'll see how far we get.
I really enjoyed this one and its concise, insightful commentary on the role of the media in perpetuating transphobia in the UK. I really hope that Liam Konemann comes out with a full length memoir at some point, because his writing is wonderfully clear and brilliant. I do wish that this book lived up to its title, though; it's called 'Transmasculine Joy in a Transphobic Culture', but there's actually not that much joy in it. It's much more of a testament to living within a society which is becoming more boldly and overtly transphobic. Still, it's a great little book, and now I want to read the whole series. Oh no.
Personal yet self-aware, this is a concise look at life as a trans, gay man in modern Britain. There's a particular focus on representation within the media, the idea of "passing", and the difficult road to acceptance and happiness.
Despite the tagline, and the more hopeful conclusion, it's worth noting this isn't always a joyous read. Konemann is frank in his portrayal of trans/homophobia, but his articulate, approachable, warm style certainly soften the blow.
Affirming for those who've experienced similar prejudice, and enlightening for those who haven't, this is a great little read, with much to say despite its deceptive page count.
When this book arrived I was a little bit surprised about how small it was but that’s on me for not checking this earlier. The one thing that stuck out the most to me was that there was disproportionately little on trans joy, which is what I had hoped for. Nevertheless this was a good read, would recommend:)
Read with my wonderful beautiful handsome boyfriend and finished to begin our readathon <3
Really enjoyed the passages about queer and trans joy 🏳️⚧️🏳️🌈and making a space for it - it’s so nice to read about the pervasiveness of this joy despite the backdrop of transphobia in the UK presented in the book.
From Gender Identity Disorder to gender dysphoria, from Twitter debates to trans author Torrey Peters being nominated for the Women’s Prize for Fiction—Liam Konemann’s The Appendix is a collection of personal notes and comments from his 90s childhood to today’s growing anti-trans rhetoric in media and politics. A short but powerful read.
“Happiness despite queer transphobia is a radical act.”
'Gender euphoria... it's there when I am drinking red wine and dancing to Pulp in my beloved silver Doc Martens'
Less 'joy' and more the stark reality of everyday transphobia in the UK and beyond. However, an excellent little read and another important Trans publication.
“i could start writing and never stop, unfurl an endless scroll of memories and moments as evidence that trans children exist, that i am who i say i am and always have been, but it wouldn’t translate.”
A great starting point and treatise on feeling joy in the face of transphobia. Would especially recommend this as good reading for cis allies looking to get an insight on the daily lived experience of trans folks!