Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir

Although its subtitle refers to it as a memoir, Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars utilizes many of the genre conventions of magical realism. Some examples are subtle, such as Rapunzelle’s unearthly size or the “forgiveness cake” that spreads feelings of warmth and happiness throughout the community. However, at other times, the magic inherent in the City of Smoke and Lights is much more literal and palpable. In these moments, the elements of magical realism illuminate aspects of the characters inner lives—both individually and collectively—that are otherwise hidden in the unconscious.

Rapunzelle tells the narrator that she was once a user of a drug referred to as “Lost”—a drug whose seemingly hallucinogenic effects take literal form, visible not only to the user but to onlookers as well. The drug is called “Lost” because it literally allows the user to “lose” themselves and transform into something else entirely. Rapunzelle recalls that “[i]t changed you not just on the inside, but on the outside, too. Lost could give you blue eyes instead of brown, cat ears, a mermaid’s tail, skin as green as an alien’s for as long as the high lasted. And when you were on it you could be anything, anything at all, except yourself” (46). Rapunzelle and other lost users literally change their physical form, though the transformations are not always under their control. Instead, the drug’s effects literalize unconscious desires and fears. Rapunzelle’s eventual dependence on and overuse of Lost show how quickly this access to the unconscious can go from exhilarating to horrifying. One night, when Rapunzelle uses a great deal of Lost, her face transforms into that of her abusive father, and catching sight of it in the mirror of the club bathroom causes her to go into a frenzy. She frantically transforms on the dance floor and soon “the only sounds were the crackling and squelching of Rapunzelle’s flesh oozing as it transitioned from one shape to another” (48). The magical elements in this moment change from fantastic to horrifying, showcasing how the trauma of Rapunzelle’s abuse threatens her sense of a stable identity.

Though this experience is a frightening one, the magic present in the narrative is often benevolent and even helpful. After the narrator kills a police officer while attempting to protect another trans woman, she is terrified, convinced that she will be discovered and taken to jail. Amid her distress, the fountain at the center of the courtyard where she is standing begins to move of its own accord. The vines wrapping around its center pedestal move and reveal a statue of a beautiful trans woman. The narrator’s companion, Lucretia, recognizes her as the mythical figure of the First Femme, who was murdered many years prior and who now, according to local legend, watches over the Street of Miracles. The two watch as the statue’s eyes open and she begins to cry. Her vines wrap around the body of the police officer and drag him into the well of the fountain. The narrator observes: “Suddenly, I am not afraid anymore, though a strange numbness remains where the feeling was. Lucretia and I step forward to touch the water, which is warm” (117). The living statue represents this community’s collective memory of resistance and of tragedy. In a moment of crisis, this collective memory becomes real, exerting an ongoing power to protect those threatened by misogynistic and anti-trans violence. In this moment, it is the magic of the Street of Miracles, and the souls of trans women, that keeps the community safe.