By Susan Faludi. $32; Metropolitan Books; 417 pages
Esteemed feminist Susan Faludi didn't talk to her father. He'd been estranged from the family since he stabbed her mother's boyfriend with a knife when Susan was in high school. In 2004, Susan got an email from her father: he'd transitioned. Now, Steffi was her name. "It was the first communication I'd received from my parent in many years," Faludi writes.
In the Darkroom, Faludi's memoir about rediscovering her father in a new identity, finds Faludi traveling back to her father's origins in Hungary. Her father now lives as a woman in Hungary, mere minutes away from where sheFaludi uses female pronouns for her father but calls her parent by the male titlegrew up, the scion of a wealthy Jewish family.
Susan Faludi wants to discover her father: She writes that her father's instruction to "write my story" felt like a dare. She soon finds it hard to deal with her father's obfuscation, either unintentionalher father prefers to talk about mechanics or to show off vast collections of clothesor willful. Duplicity is a theme in Stefanie Faludi's life. In the United States, she was a photographer renowned for her ability to alter photos in the days before Photoshop. As a teenage boy, however, Faludi often disguised herself as a Nazi. Susan Faludi recounts an episode of family lore, where her father, in swastika armband and mechanic jumpsuit, rescued her parents from a Nazi holding area. Susan consults her father's relatives and old friends trying to ascertain whether this, and other details, are true, as her father is very reluctant to talk about her childhood.
Comparatively little time is spent on the younger Faludi's childhood: instead, Faludi delves deep into Jewish history and the politics of Hungary in the 2000s. Faludi learns about the long tradition of anti-Semitism in Hungary leading to many Hungarians realizing late in life that they are Jewish, while she also observes a Hungarian right-wing political party ascending before her eyes. Susan's father also introduces Susan to some other European trans people, and their stories, combined with the strange resonances of historical discovery and repetition, connect transgender identity to a larger pattern of repression and intolerance.
However, these sections sometimes feel less immediate than the direct connections Faludi makes with her father, or the writer's own powerful memories. When Faludi was a teenager curious about religion, her father stormed into her bedroom one night and slammed Susan's head on the floor, incensed that she would think about abandoning her Jewish origin. Yet the Faludis always had a giant Christmas tree every winter. Point being: some of the less personal background could have been cut, but overall Faludi's crisp, revelatory writing will keep readers wanting to hear more about the enigma that was Stefanie Faludi.