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from virgins to hermaphrodites Rave reviews for Middlesex! It was completely a world apart from Virgin Suicides. Usually, writers write with the same tone and timbre - the undeniable literary DNA strand giving you away every time, every novel. His first novel was haunting and fragmented, leaving you with disembodied feelings instead of a sense progression of events. It introduced you to the untouchable Lisbon girls, without really knowing them, content with just seeing them. There are just their eyes and blonde hair and white arms leaving marks on your mind, and shapely legs dangling in the periphery of your consciousness. It was beautiful in its blackness, lyrical in its absurdity. This time, Eugenides has managed to pull off three generations of androgynous (literally), circular narration in a straightforward plunge. Middlesex was more solid, expansive but intimate. While Virgin Suicides is the stuff made of dreams, this one is made of life in all its monotony and impossible explosions. While Virgin Suicides was fleeting, the pages flying on diaphanous wings, Middlesex was sturdy in its longevity. It's all the stuff that happens between falling in love and falling into a marriage - diaspora, wars, racism, Greek mythology and hackneyed genes included. As heartbreaking events, layered emotions and unforgettable, quirky characters undulate in the mesmerizing sea of this novel, Callie (initially a she and later on a he) serves as the cohesive anchor and confused protagonist that takes the reader for a ride. Humorous and searing, this novel is an initiation to living.