It isn’t wasted on me how fortunate I am to be able to read such a diverse book without the worry of any book restrictions.
Please don’t be put off by how academic this book sounds just like Beyond Pronouns: The Essential Guide for Parents of Trans Children by Tammy Plunkett this book is well researched, and the writing comes across as introductory yet engaging. The book focuses on how people throughout history have navigated gender.

Before We Were Trans serves can be read as an introduction to the history of gender and how broad trans history is. Each chapter focuses on a particular theme and acts as an introduction to that area of history without information dumping on the reader. Some of the chapters in this book look at the overlap between trans history and other histories, particularly the history of sexuality, intersex history, and the history of colonisation.

Before We Were Trans is sadly not always butterflies and rainbows but that’s the reality of life. Dr. Heyam doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities that these people have faced by not being afraid to highlighting the tragic very truth. The grim reality of how society has treated trans and non-conforming gender people throughout history should make you uncomfortable to a degree. Dr. Heyam writes these bleak sections with an important level of respect and empathy in a way that can only be seen as an acknowledgement of a crucial but cruel truth. Not something done to offend or add shock value to a book.

Fun fact of the day despite the modern narrative that non-conforming gender people are a new phenomenon, history shows this isn’t some new trend as some people would like you believe. In fact, anthropologists have documented cultures around the world that acknowledge more than two genders in fact I think we’re one of the few cultures who only have two. There are even examples going back as far as 3,000 years of cultures having more than two genders. I found the chapters revealing the treatment of Indigenous and Two-spirit populations upsetting I knew a little, but it was still a slight shock. However, I did end up doing my own research to further the knowledge I already had.

There’s a lot to enjoy about this book, it’s full of interesting stories about specific people and communities and cultures from around the world and different time periods. This might be the geek in me but it’s nice to see a bibliography which gives you the option to follow up and investigate the topics covered in this book.

If you are going to read this book you need to know the vocabulary being used or you may need to stop and check what they mean.

The kindle version isn’t the easiest to navigate as you read something and find pages later what the asterisk was referring to.

The book is academically written. It is a book I’d like to have dipped in and out of by chapter but the ARC has no contents on chapters or information on how many chapters so this was impossible to do. Possibly the proper edition released will be different.

Many thanks to Netgalley for this ARC

An interesting read that is well researched and educational, giving a unique insight to the past history of the trans community. Indispensable for anyone who wants to learn more and, in my opinion, essential reading for everyone. Recommend.

Huge thanks to the publisher and to NetGalley for granting me a digital advance copy of this book.

Dr Kit Heyam has crafted a beautiful book that honours the history of every person ever to exist outside the Western contemporary gender binary that we now know, whether their existence was considered “queer” (or equivalent) within the cultural context in which they lived.

Dr Heyam’s book reflects the long, complex and beautiful history of “non-binary” (in quotes as there was not always a binary for these people to be outside of in the first place) gendered experiences in non-Western cultures. They discuss the way that these experiences were flattened by colonialism, and they draw attention to the way in which White trans people today often appropriate the non-binary identities of people of colour (particularly Indigenous people) as proof of our own existence, without working towards the recognition of these people’s rights.

Similarly, they discuss how endosex (non-intersex) trans people often do the same to intersex people, using them as a “gotcha” that not only disrespects the people in question but also undermines trans rights. They also talk about how trans people such as Roberta Cowell have historically claimed to be intersex in order to access gender-confirming treatments, without considering that this perpetuates the practice of surgically altering intersex people’s genitals to make them fit an endosex ideal.

The mention that Dr Heyam makes of Michael Dillon, the first trans man to receive phalloplasty — and an alumna of TCD — was lovely. It was particularly nice to see Dr Dillon mentioned in the context of the orchiectomy he performed on the aforementioned Ms Cowell (allowing her to claim that she was intersex).

<i>Before We Were Trans</i> is beautiful, affirming, well-researched, and thoroughly interesting.

Written by a non-binary historian, before we were trans is an expansive history of gender expression - looking at ambiguous traditions or individuals through a trans lense. Exploring how people expressed their gender identity before there was a word for it, ranging from theatre groups to significant individuals.

This was educative, eye opening and beyond interesting. They balanced the facts, analysis and storytelling so well - for a non-fiction, academic book I could not put this down. This is educative in every sense of the word - I presume / hope all readers are at least allies to the trans community; but this book provides so much more knowledge - highlighting issues of intersectionalism (how white, upper class people have traditionally had it easier) as well as differentiating between trans & intersex.

Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC.

If only gender was simple; if only it could be untethered from the body, from sex, instead of getting bound up with evidence, accuracy, facts. Kit Heyam’s trans story sets out to suggest the feel and feelings of historical bodies. What are the sensations of Native American two-spirit people, or Japanese wakashū (older men clinging to (feminised) adolescent sexual acquiescence)? It is a proudly subjective history that, strangely, while arguing a trans agenda and seeking solidarity with a range of historical figures, ends up defining the admonishments against trans expressions as rooted in homophobia. Heyam argues that trans identities disrupt heteronormative desires and, therefore, fall foul of power underpinned by the patriarchy. Predictably, women are the ones who suffer. The heterosexual male and his desire is never subjected to the same censures and injunctions as those assigned females at birth—and the women whose anus is primary. Reading the book led me to wonder why penetration of the vagina is privileged when everyone has an anus; why, if not because it implies subjection, while anal penetration indicates consensus?
The torturous relationship of trans to gender critical feminism is not explicitly addressed. Indeed, bemoaning the marginalisation of minority gender identities, Heyman uncritically evokes Simone de Beauvoir’s insight that male perspectives are positioned as objective truths. As de Beauvoir made her point on behalf of half the world’s population, it is not surprising that women could feel that such appropriation presents them as just another marginal group, not only subject to men’s dubious objectivity but to the authority of a trans minority too.
In such pasts, when women were denied all rights and freedoms, it is not that surprising that those assigned female at birth sought agency passing as men, and men presenting as women often kept a low profile. Although, needless to say, in the latter case, masculinity still affords certain advantages in patriarchy even to those who reject that they are men.
Despite highlighting Judith Butler’s distinction between performing gender and performativity, implicating extrinsic socialisation in the making and experience of femininity, Heyam’s narrative settles again and again on masculinity and femininity defined by spectacle, clothing, coiffure, and stereotypical activities. The examples Heyam draws on, from prisoners of war in drag to Igbo sex workers, belong mainly in the hyperspecularized gender presentation of the theatrical and in staged desire, eliding cross dressing, passing as the other, with living as a man or woman. Acting and sex work are notable roles where people provide a service where they are definitively not themselves, acting pleasure, underscoring sexual orthodoxy.
It’s complicated. I recalled the most painful moment in the movie Girl (Lukas Dhont 2019) Lara, the trans protagonist, is invited to the girls’ party. Just as she feels she is integrating, feeling she is accepted, the girls ask to see her penis. She is other, merely a boy acting a girl.
Before We Were Trans is an engaging read. There is more to be said. The book stands as an attempt to counter erasure with a speculative drawing. Still, like a drawing from memory, it misses something essential in the detail.

This was very well-explored, the essays within containing information that was intriguing as well as insightful, even though it is presented as academic writing, which can sometimes be imposing for ordinary readers to consume. Even within the introduction, I felt like I was being made to think critically about gender and non-traditional notions of gender, as well as who determines what "traditional notions" of gender even are.

In some ways, I wish I'd read this book before I'd submitted my recent assignments for my degree, and I would certainly find it useful to discuss it in my future academic endeavours! Unlike so many other academic scholarly writing on trans and gender discourse, a lot of the writing here is positive and considers the perspective of different communities, even as the author is very careful not to overstep their bounds despite not belonging to certain marginalised communities, which I thought showed deep respect. It is so important in this day and age for representation and light to be shined on marginalised communities, while trying to be as objectionable and unbiased as possible. For it is impossible to exclude their contributions and understanding of gender, especially when western precepts of gender are so centred around whiteness.

Before We Were Trans is a deeply thought-provoking read and would certainly appeal to other readers who enjoy gender studies, queer theory, and anyone else seeking to understand trans and non-binaristic identities.

Thank you to Netgalley, Basic Books and Seal Press and Dr Kit Heyam for allowing me to read the ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Before We Were Trans serves as an introduction to the often untold rich history of gender. It spans a wide range of cultures telling the stories of various figures who had a transgressive approach to gender. It explores how the lives of these gender non-conforming people, along with the actions of reactions of wider society have contributed to modern society’s understanding of gender and sexuality.

This is clearly a very well researched and thoughtful book, and whilst it’s academic in tone, it is engaging and still feels accessible enough for anyone looking to learn more about how people have historically navigated gender. It is refreshingly written through a positive trans lens and is imbued with all the sensitivity and dignity you would hope for.

Before We Were Trans is (sadly, but not unexpectedly) not always easy reading. It doesn’t shy away from highlighting the tragic reality of how society has treated trans and gender non-conforming people. I found the chapters exposing the barbaric treatment of Indigenous and Two-spirit populations deeply impactful. However, the author writes these sections (like the rest of the book) with a such high level of respect and compassion that it doesn’t just feel like bleak cautionary portrayal but instead feels like an acknowledgement of an important truth whilst still giving space to celebrate these historic people’s courage and defiance.

There’s a lot to enjoy about this book, it’s full of interesting stories about specific people and communities from a spectrum of cultures and time periods, many of which I’d never heard or read about before. I found myself highlighting a lot of passages that I wanted to remind myself of later or to talk about with friends. As this book is fairly broad so I also appreciated the author’s choice of citations from various other modern trans books - I think it would make particularly good companion to Shon Faye’s ‘The Transgender Issue’ for people starting to read about Trans identities. Whilst Before We Were Trans might initially appeal to readers already interested in gender studies (myself included) this feels like an important read for everyone and would make an excellent addition to any readers collection.

Before We Were Trans is a book that looks at the history of gender through an expansive trans lens, showing that the scope of trans history can be wide and inclusive and that can teach us more about the people left out by certain ideas of gender. Each chapter focuses on a particular theme and acts as a kind of introduction to that area of history, weaving together a few different examples and discussing how thinking about these is important, and many of the chapters look at the overlap between trans history and other histories, particularly the history of sexuality, intersex history, and the history of colonisation.

The style of the book is academic yet engaging, aimed at a broad audience, and the content is introductory, providing explanations of what and why people and communities can be viewed through a broader lens of trans history but not going deep into each topic, which could be books in themselves. The book sets forward a methodology for doing history, acknowledging at one point the bad reputation of historians in terms of the history of gender difference and the policing that can go on around historical figures, and the title hints towards the fact that differing terminology means that history like this isn't so simple to chart. At the same time, Heyam makes it clear how important it is that people do this work and see these histories as histories that can be crucial to modern thought and understanding.

As the book is an overview, I was looking forward to using the bibliography to follow up and go deeper, which I will do, though in my electronic proof copy it's not the easiest to navigate and could have been split into key texts for each chapter to make it more accessible for people wanting to read more. I'm not a historian, so I can't really comment on the discussion of methodology, but Heyam clearly highlights the book's limitations, especially as written by a white academic, and the book is useful for thinking about who and how trans histories are told.

There's a lot of fascinating content in Before We Were Trans, and it sits nicely with other recent non-fiction books on trans life and reality, particularly Shon Faye's The Transgender Issue (which is cited in this book), to consider the ambiguity, policing, and intersectionality of gender and trans history.

This was such an interesting read, I don't know what I expected but it was much better than I thought it would be. All the historical context was so interesting to read and I loved how it was not straight down the line and succint it was blended and messy and absolutely fantastic. I loved it.