A quest for identity

Between classes and life, sometimes it's hard to get in all the pleasure reading you'd like. Considering the time crunch, the time you do have to sit down and read a book ought to be made worthwhile.

Jeffrey Eugenides' "Middlesex," which was published in 2002 by Farrar, Straus & Giroux and has recently been released in paperback, certainly meets the necessary criterion.

The 2003 Pulitzer Prize winning novel is epic in scope, ambitious both in its historical and emotional aspirations, as well as a remarkably good story.

"Middlesex" is the story of Calliope Stephanides. Cal is raised in a loving Greek-American immigrant family in an affluent suburb of Detroit.

When she is 14, she discovers that she is not actually a she -- Cal is a pseudo- hermaphrodite. Physically male, Cal has been raised as a girl.

The story focuses in part on Cal's acceptance of his gender, traced by Eugenides from early childhood to his present life as a 41-year-old living and working for the U.S. State Department in Berlin.

But equally important to both the narrative and Cal's development as a person is the history of the protagonist's Greek-American family.

His grandparents came to the United States fleeing the destruction of the city of Smyrna, and settled eventually in suburban Detroit. The novel extensively explores the relationship between their flight, the family they create, and the man that Cal will become.

Although Cal is a hermaphrodite, Eugenides channels her, and later his, voice with remarkable clarity. Cal is always believable, funny, smart, sometimes grandiose, sometimes vulnerable, and ultimately very human.

The line between a male voice and a female voice is never drawn -- Cal does not change his linguistic mannerisms after discovering that he has a chromosomal mutation. Though he is definitely troubled by his differences, his confusion over an upset identity is not a gendered reaction, but a human one.

The novel is very well constructed. Eugenides draws from classical literary style, and Cal riffs on the traditional invocation of the Muse at the beginning of epic poems, saying ''Sing now, O Muse, of the recessive mutation on my fifth chromosome."

The author treats the details of Cal's medical condition in sufficient detail, and his history is fairly accurate within the framework of fiction.

Cal and the members of his immediate family have a knack for getting themselves mixed up in the curious progress of history. His mother, for example, is the only white woman working for the nation of Islam.

Thematically, Eugenides returns again and again to destruction and rebirth. Cal's grandparents flee from the burning city of Smyrna, and Cal's family is caught up in the race riots which raze acres of Detroit during 1967.

Readers may be familiar with "The Virgin Suicides," Eugenides dreamy debut novel. "Middlesex" is grander in scope than the story of the five doomed Lisbon sisters, but equally enjoyable.

Like the author's first work, "Middlesex" is also a coming of age story. Cal discovers what he is physically and decides how he will fit himself, emotionally and physically, into his surrounding world. As a hermaphrodite, his particular quirks are unusual, sensational even, although Eugenides never lets the novel descend into sentimentality or voyeurism.

Cal's journeys across the country and through the even rockier psychology of his psyche are universally familiar, despite the character's unique situation. Anyone who has ever struggled with identity will appreciate Cal's growth.

Those fond of lucid prose, witty, personal treatments of history, and really good books will enjoy Jeffrey Eugenides' "Middlesex."