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Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew from It
A hilarious and poignant memoir grappling with family, disability, and coming of age in two closets—as a gay man and as a man living with cerebral palsy
Greg Marshall’s early years were pretty bizarre. Rewind the VHS tapes (this is the nineties) and you’ll see a lopsided teenager limping across a high school stage, or in a wheelchair after leg surgeries, pondering why he’s crushing on half of the Utah Jazz. Add to this home video footage a mom clacking away at her newspaper column between chemos, a dad with ALS, and a cast of foulmouthed siblings. Fast forward the tape and you’ll find Marshall happily settled into his life as a gay man only to discover he’s been living in another closet his whole life: he has cerebral palsy. Here, in the hot mess of it all, lies Greg Marshall’s wellspring of wit and wisdom.
Leg is an extraordinarily funny and insightful memoir from a daring new voice. Packed with outrageous stories of a singular childhood, it is also a unique examination of what it means to transform when there are parts of yourself you can’t change, a moving portrait of a family in crisis, and a tale of resilience of spirit. In Marshall’s deft hands, we see a story both personal and universal—of being young and wanting the world, even when the world doesn’t feel like yours to want.
Greg Marshall’s early years were pretty bizarre. Rewind the VHS tapes (this is the nineties) and you’ll see a lopsided teenager limping across a high school stage, or in a wheelchair after leg surgeries, pondering why he’s crushing on half of the Utah Jazz. Add to this home video footage a mom clacking away at her newspaper column between chemos, a dad with ALS, and a cast of foulmouthed siblings. Fast forward the tape and you’ll find Marshall happily settled into his life as a gay man only to discover he’s been living in another closet his whole life: he has cerebral palsy. Here, in the hot mess of it all, lies Greg Marshall’s wellspring of wit and wisdom.
Leg is an extraordinarily funny and insightful memoir from a daring new voice. Packed with outrageous stories of a singular childhood, it is also a unique examination of what it means to transform when there are parts of yourself you can’t change, a moving portrait of a family in crisis, and a tale of resilience of spirit. In Marshall’s deft hands, we see a story both personal and universal—of being young and wanting the world, even when the world doesn’t feel like yours to want.
304 pages, Hardcover
First published June 13, 2023
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June 25, 2023
From Hidden to Heard: A Remarkable Journey of Self-Discovery and Unforgettable Family Bonds.……
Book Information
“Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew From It”, written by Greg Marshall, is a 349-page memoir published on June 13, 2023. The audio version is narrated by the author and spans 9 Hours and 48 Minutes. It is worth noting that Marshall, a distinguished writer, was honored as a 2020 National Endowment for the Arts Fellow in Prose. "Leg" marks his highly anticipated debut in the literary world. Thank you to RB Media for providing me with an advance reader copy of this book for review.
Summary
Transport yourself back to the nineties through the lens of VHS tapes, and you'll witness a teenage Marshall, limping across high school stages or using a wheelchair following leg surgeries, all while grappling with confusing crushes on members of the Utah Jazz. Amidst this captivating home video footage, his mother battles cancer, tapping away at her newspaper column during chemotherapy sessions, while his father copes with ALS. Alongside them, a colorful ensemble of siblings adds to the chaos.
As the tape rolls forward, Marshall eventually finds solace and acceptance in his life as a gay man, only to realize that he has unknowingly inhabited another closet throughout his entire existence: his cerebral palsy. It is within these tangled experiences that Greg Marshall discovers an endless reservoir of wit and wisdom.
My Thoughts
"Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew From It" by Greg Marshall is a remarkable memoir that explores the intersections of sexuality, disability, and family. Marshall eloquently depicts his journey of emerging from two closets, embarking on a deeply personal exploration of self.
Marshall's memoir contains a sincere portrayal of his journey of self-discovery, starting with his sexual awakening (his first closet). Within the confines of a Mormon community that may not readily embrace his true identity, he navigates the complexities of his attractions. As the narrative unfolds, we witness his maturation throughout college and beyond, observing his struggles with self-acceptance and the profound impact it has on both himself and those around him. Amidst his various relationships, we witness a mix of triumphs and potential pitfalls, serving as reminders of the challenges and rewards that come with embracing one's authentic self.
Delving into the realm of disability (his second closet—though somewhat because he didn’t even know about it), Marshall offers a poignant and thought-provoking perspective. What sets this memoir apart is the intimate portrayal of his own internal struggle with undiagnosed (to him) Cerebral Palsy, unraveling a journey of self-realization that he embarked upon without even knowing the challenges he faced. Additionally, Marshall provides a window into the lives of his family members as they confront their own battles with cancer and ALS, amplifying the emotional depth of their shared experiences.
Family lies at the heart of "Leg," and Marshall skillfully captures the complexity of familial relationships. Marshal reveals the nuances of his family's dynamics, showcasing their weirdness alongside their unwavering love and devotion. Through their stories, Marshall imparts valuable lessons about the significance of recognizing and cherishing what truly matters. This is exceedingly clear in the portions of the book that deal with his father, and his eventual decline in health suffering from ALS.
Humor is the glue that supports all of Marshal’s narratives, allowing him to approach sensitive topics with levity and grace. His ability to weave humor into the story while maintaining a respectful and heartfelt tone makes the book accessible to a wide range of readers, adding depth and relatability to his storytelling. Fair warning though, Marshall holds nothing back. While hilarious, the memoir is also raw, honest, and explicit.
Marshall's storytelling style effortlessly carries readers along his journey, immersing them in a whirlwind of experiences that encompass moments of wonder, joy, melancholy, and profound tragedy. His candid and explicit approach adds an authentic layer to the book, inviting readers to connect with his story on a deeply human level.
Recommendation
In "Leg," Greg Marshall fearlessly unveils his soul, offering a mesmerizing blend of humor, poignancy, and brilliance. This unforgettable memoir invites readers to reflect on their own identities, relationships, and the intricate tapestry of life itself. Recommended.
Rating
4 Tight Tendon Stars
Book Information
“Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew From It”, written by Greg Marshall, is a 349-page memoir published on June 13, 2023. The audio version is narrated by the author and spans 9 Hours and 48 Minutes. It is worth noting that Marshall, a distinguished writer, was honored as a 2020 National Endowment for the Arts Fellow in Prose. "Leg" marks his highly anticipated debut in the literary world. Thank you to RB Media for providing me with an advance reader copy of this book for review.
Summary
Transport yourself back to the nineties through the lens of VHS tapes, and you'll witness a teenage Marshall, limping across high school stages or using a wheelchair following leg surgeries, all while grappling with confusing crushes on members of the Utah Jazz. Amidst this captivating home video footage, his mother battles cancer, tapping away at her newspaper column during chemotherapy sessions, while his father copes with ALS. Alongside them, a colorful ensemble of siblings adds to the chaos.
As the tape rolls forward, Marshall eventually finds solace and acceptance in his life as a gay man, only to realize that he has unknowingly inhabited another closet throughout his entire existence: his cerebral palsy. It is within these tangled experiences that Greg Marshall discovers an endless reservoir of wit and wisdom.
My Thoughts
"Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew From It" by Greg Marshall is a remarkable memoir that explores the intersections of sexuality, disability, and family. Marshall eloquently depicts his journey of emerging from two closets, embarking on a deeply personal exploration of self.
Marshall's memoir contains a sincere portrayal of his journey of self-discovery, starting with his sexual awakening (his first closet). Within the confines of a Mormon community that may not readily embrace his true identity, he navigates the complexities of his attractions. As the narrative unfolds, we witness his maturation throughout college and beyond, observing his struggles with self-acceptance and the profound impact it has on both himself and those around him. Amidst his various relationships, we witness a mix of triumphs and potential pitfalls, serving as reminders of the challenges and rewards that come with embracing one's authentic self.
Delving into the realm of disability (his second closet—though somewhat because he didn’t even know about it), Marshall offers a poignant and thought-provoking perspective. What sets this memoir apart is the intimate portrayal of his own internal struggle with undiagnosed (to him) Cerebral Palsy, unraveling a journey of self-realization that he embarked upon without even knowing the challenges he faced. Additionally, Marshall provides a window into the lives of his family members as they confront their own battles with cancer and ALS, amplifying the emotional depth of their shared experiences.
Family lies at the heart of "Leg," and Marshall skillfully captures the complexity of familial relationships. Marshal reveals the nuances of his family's dynamics, showcasing their weirdness alongside their unwavering love and devotion. Through their stories, Marshall imparts valuable lessons about the significance of recognizing and cherishing what truly matters. This is exceedingly clear in the portions of the book that deal with his father, and his eventual decline in health suffering from ALS.
Humor is the glue that supports all of Marshal’s narratives, allowing him to approach sensitive topics with levity and grace. His ability to weave humor into the story while maintaining a respectful and heartfelt tone makes the book accessible to a wide range of readers, adding depth and relatability to his storytelling. Fair warning though, Marshall holds nothing back. While hilarious, the memoir is also raw, honest, and explicit.
Marshall's storytelling style effortlessly carries readers along his journey, immersing them in a whirlwind of experiences that encompass moments of wonder, joy, melancholy, and profound tragedy. His candid and explicit approach adds an authentic layer to the book, inviting readers to connect with his story on a deeply human level.
Recommendation
In "Leg," Greg Marshall fearlessly unveils his soul, offering a mesmerizing blend of humor, poignancy, and brilliance. This unforgettable memoir invites readers to reflect on their own identities, relationships, and the intricate tapestry of life itself. Recommended.
Rating
4 Tight Tendon Stars
June 20, 2023
I'm a huge sucker for autobiographies read by the author, and I couldn't have been more pleased by Greg Marshall's Leg!
Officially, Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew From It, is available in audio - and if you're a fan of inspiring, dramatic life stories, then this one is for you too. I think my jaw dropped over a dozen times as Marshall takes us through his highly eventful life. I laughed, I cried, and I repeatedly thanked my lucky stars for the hand fate dealt me.
Greg Marshall has faced a host of challenges, and copes with a combination of humor, courage, and occasionally some well deserved trepidation. Bravo!
thank you to Tantor Audio, via NetGalley, for providing an audiobook copy of Leg for the purpose of my honest review, all opinions are my own
Officially, Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew From It, is available in audio - and if you're a fan of inspiring, dramatic life stories, then this one is for you too. I think my jaw dropped over a dozen times as Marshall takes us through his highly eventful life. I laughed, I cried, and I repeatedly thanked my lucky stars for the hand fate dealt me.
Greg Marshall has faced a host of challenges, and copes with a combination of humor, courage, and occasionally some well deserved trepidation. Bravo!
thank you to Tantor Audio, via NetGalley, for providing an audiobook copy of Leg for the purpose of my honest review, all opinions are my own
June 12, 2023
Leg is such an interesting memoir about family, sexuality, disability, and so much more. Greg Marshall always walked with a limp that he had been told was due to his tight tendons. It wasn’t until adulthood that he learned that his parents had been keeping the fact that he had cerebral palsy from him. While that obviously is a very important part of the book, it’s not all that the memoir is about.
Greg details stories of growing up as a gay kid in Utah, his parents’ bouts with cancer and ALS, the fear of AIDS, dating mishaps, and the various ways that his disability has impacted his life. There’s a lot of humor within the book and Greg is very open with sharing intimate details. And while parts of it are hilarious, there are also a lot of difficult topics broached like death and illness. I feel like he was able to blend the humorous and serious tones really well throughout the book. I definitely recommend checking this one out if you’re a fan of unique memoirs.
Thank you to the publisher for providing an advance copy via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Greg details stories of growing up as a gay kid in Utah, his parents’ bouts with cancer and ALS, the fear of AIDS, dating mishaps, and the various ways that his disability has impacted his life. There’s a lot of humor within the book and Greg is very open with sharing intimate details. And while parts of it are hilarious, there are also a lot of difficult topics broached like death and illness. I feel like he was able to blend the humorous and serious tones really well throughout the book. I definitely recommend checking this one out if you’re a fan of unique memoirs.
Thank you to the publisher for providing an advance copy via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
June 30, 2023
Raucous, ribald, and really well written. I’ve been reading a lot of history full of pain and statistics. Greg Marshall’s memoir was a welcome and uplifting relief.
One complaint: the cover art of a perfectly proportioned naked man bugged the hell out of me. It was chosen by Lithub for a list of best covers for June of this year, but I would love to hear from others who have actually read the book—a book whose title refers to a badly distorted leg and a lifetime of experiences that are affected by that.
(By the way, I felt the same thing about the original hardcover of Susan Jane Gilman’s equally hilarious novel The Ice Cream Queen of Orchard Street —a pair of elegant ankles—when a major character feature is the protagonist’s damaged leg/ankle.)
Leg’s cover design is striking, but imagine how much more striking it would be if it accurately portrayed what’s inside this fabulous memoir about having Greg’s leg and body’s condition willfully kept from him, being gay, and being part of a family that made all that, as well as cancer, dying, ALS and more hilarious! Not only is the perfectly proportioned man given in front view, but he’s on the back cover in rearview, and as if to put a button on the lie, there is a gorgeous well-muscled leg on the spine.
I protest this design and can imagine the endless meetings discussing it: “We can’t show a real crippled body and leg—people won’t buy the book; they’ll be turned off or shocked. Focus groups have shown people may say they are accepting of differently abled people, but when it comes to spending money, after seeing an image of one . . . !”
Have the balls (yes, big balls also make several appearances) to match the cover to the daring, irreverent, explicit interior. Trust the reading public to be intrigued and want to read it even more. (If somebody is turned off by an accurate cover, they would probably not be a happy audience for this work.) Because I liked this book so much, every time I picked it up, those pictures felt like an insult, and I can only imagine how a person with a disability would feel.
Images matter. If we don’t see it/us/them in artistic representations, it is foreign—even to the people who live with being “different.”
Now back to the actual content of this memoir: it is as good and honest as the cover deception is dishonest. It even confronts that kind of dishonesty and how it feels to the one who is betrayed—in a remarkable chapter about a pathological liar. No punches are pulled, nothing is airbrushed, everything is raw, honest, and therefore so funny or heartbreaking. This level of truth is usually one or the other, or, in its most honest form, both. This book is both.
One complaint: the cover art of a perfectly proportioned naked man bugged the hell out of me. It was chosen by Lithub for a list of best covers for June of this year, but I would love to hear from others who have actually read the book—a book whose title refers to a badly distorted leg and a lifetime of experiences that are affected by that.
(By the way, I felt the same thing about the original hardcover of Susan Jane Gilman’s equally hilarious novel The Ice Cream Queen of Orchard Street —a pair of elegant ankles—when a major character feature is the protagonist’s damaged leg/ankle.)
Leg’s cover design is striking, but imagine how much more striking it would be if it accurately portrayed what’s inside this fabulous memoir about having Greg’s leg and body’s condition willfully kept from him, being gay, and being part of a family that made all that, as well as cancer, dying, ALS and more hilarious! Not only is the perfectly proportioned man given in front view, but he’s on the back cover in rearview, and as if to put a button on the lie, there is a gorgeous well-muscled leg on the spine.
I protest this design and can imagine the endless meetings discussing it: “We can’t show a real crippled body and leg—people won’t buy the book; they’ll be turned off or shocked. Focus groups have shown people may say they are accepting of differently abled people, but when it comes to spending money, after seeing an image of one . . . !”
Have the balls (yes, big balls also make several appearances) to match the cover to the daring, irreverent, explicit interior. Trust the reading public to be intrigued and want to read it even more. (If somebody is turned off by an accurate cover, they would probably not be a happy audience for this work.) Because I liked this book so much, every time I picked it up, those pictures felt like an insult, and I can only imagine how a person with a disability would feel.
Images matter. If we don’t see it/us/them in artistic representations, it is foreign—even to the people who live with being “different.”
Now back to the actual content of this memoir: it is as good and honest as the cover deception is dishonest. It even confronts that kind of dishonesty and how it feels to the one who is betrayed—in a remarkable chapter about a pathological liar. No punches are pulled, nothing is airbrushed, everything is raw, honest, and therefore so funny or heartbreaking. This level of truth is usually one or the other, or, in its most honest form, both. This book is both.
February 16, 2024
2.5 ⭐️— this book was disappointing in an odd way — there’s a lot i enjoyed abt it, a lot of really genuinely interesting reflections on disability, death, family, and gay experiences. but there was a lot that made me uncomfortable in a someone-very-invested-in-disability-justice way.
the author uses both “bipolar” and “schizophrenic” in improper and stigmatizing ways. especially in the front half of the book, there’s a LOT of internalized ableism that doesn’t feel like it’s been entirely broken down, including some that is externalized and leads to borderline-cruel descriptions of other disabled people that made me feel bad to read.
the author uses both “bipolar” and “schizophrenic” in improper and stigmatizing ways. especially in the front half of the book, there’s a LOT of internalized ableism that doesn’t feel like it’s been entirely broken down, including some that is externalized and leads to borderline-cruel descriptions of other disabled people that made me feel bad to read.
June 23, 2024
*sigh* This memoir came across as so sincere. A hilarious and heartwarming story about two coming-of-ages: queer identity and disability. And I loved Marshall’s relationship with his parents, especially his dad. Closed this book with a smile on my face (and tears). Beautifully poignant book.
September 3, 2022
I am honored to be the first review of this book on Goodreads! LEG is so special. My viewpoint of the material comes from the point of view of a queer male of color, and I am so glad I had the opportunity to review this book. Not only did the cover catch my eye, but the burb about the book made me think that this would be essential reading for me. I call myself a "memoir whore," and I am so happy to add LEG to my collection of amazing memoirs. I have read queer memoirs. I have read memoirs written by disabled authors, but I have not read anything quite like LEG.
I grew up in Las Vegas. Greg grew up in Utah. I used to visit my family in South Jordan and later Riverton, UT growing up, and I was able to understand and picture so many references to the state. Greg and the people that fill his stories are so vibrant. As a person who has taught adults with intellectual disabilities for most of my adult life and have worked professionally in theatre and dance, I loved reading about his sister, Moe. I also found it really interesting how his mother and family as a whole decided to deal with disabilities and the choice to be diagnosed with something or not.
I am fascinated by his mother, Frankie, and I loved that the heart and strength of the book is Greg's relationship and connection to his father, who had ALS.
As a queer person around the same age as Greg, I loved learning about someone who grew up not very far from me and had both a similar and completely different way of coming of age. Many of these stories in this book were previously published, and they come together seamlessly in this book.
LEG is so much more about Greg's leg. Obviously it was referenced in every chapter, but so many people are going to be able to connect to Greg and be able to insert their own struggles in place of his, and in doing that, it can become something that we all can benefit from.
In the end, LEG is really about the things we do for each other, and the things we do for ourselves in order to have connection with those we love and connection with ourselves.
I can't wait to purchase a physical copy when it comes out next year.
Also.....Dark Temptation Axe was the only kind I ever liked. :)
You can follow me on IG @ReadwithJD where I will definitely be posting about this book when it comes closer to the release date.
Thank you to Net Galley, Abrams and Greg Marshall for access to this publication in exchange for an honest review.
I grew up in Las Vegas. Greg grew up in Utah. I used to visit my family in South Jordan and later Riverton, UT growing up, and I was able to understand and picture so many references to the state. Greg and the people that fill his stories are so vibrant. As a person who has taught adults with intellectual disabilities for most of my adult life and have worked professionally in theatre and dance, I loved reading about his sister, Moe. I also found it really interesting how his mother and family as a whole decided to deal with disabilities and the choice to be diagnosed with something or not.
I am fascinated by his mother, Frankie, and I loved that the heart and strength of the book is Greg's relationship and connection to his father, who had ALS.
As a queer person around the same age as Greg, I loved learning about someone who grew up not very far from me and had both a similar and completely different way of coming of age. Many of these stories in this book were previously published, and they come together seamlessly in this book.
LEG is so much more about Greg's leg. Obviously it was referenced in every chapter, but so many people are going to be able to connect to Greg and be able to insert their own struggles in place of his, and in doing that, it can become something that we all can benefit from.
In the end, LEG is really about the things we do for each other, and the things we do for ourselves in order to have connection with those we love and connection with ourselves.
I can't wait to purchase a physical copy when it comes out next year.
Also.....Dark Temptation Axe was the only kind I ever liked. :)
You can follow me on IG @ReadwithJD where I will definitely be posting about this book when it comes closer to the release date.
Thank you to Net Galley, Abrams and Greg Marshall for access to this publication in exchange for an honest review.
July 7, 2023
This left me in tears at the end and several times throughout. It had me laughing even more. I even got chills once or twice. It’s a love story: a romance, yes, but also a story about love for parents and love for family and friends, love for exes, love for life, and finding love for self. That it can be all those things without once becoming a cliché is what makes it good literature, and what makes its author a person worth knowing about. The writing is the one drawback; it’s not the most literarily accomplished memoir out there.
TW:
It can be crude in places; it’s frank to an extreme about the author’s sexual mishaps and explorations growing up. If that’s triggering for you, this won’t be your thing. It also deals explicitly with intense loss and grief.
TW:
It can be crude in places; it’s frank to an extreme about the author’s sexual mishaps and explorations growing up. If that’s triggering for you, this won’t be your thing. It also deals explicitly with intense loss and grief.
June 27, 2023
I had the pleasure of meeting Greg in person, and he is seriously hilarious and a great guy. This book accounts his very unique lived experiences with his own personal health and disability journey as well as the loved ones in his life experiences with chronic diseases and disability. It also provides Greg's experience coming out as a gay man and he's able to communicate some of these experiences in an intersectional way.
I would recommend physically reading this book; not listening to the audiobook. I do normally love reading memoirs via audiobook, especially when the author is the reader. However, I do think the reader may be able to connect with the humor and stories more personally through a physical reading experience. As someone who also typically listens to audiobooks at a faster speed, the cadence of Greg's recording just didn't hit some of the comedic moments or serious moments in the way I would've expected.
In person, Greg is aware of and speaks on his economic privilege; but, in this book, it made it harder for me to connect with some of his journey, insights, and experiences when he was so easily able to go to another country when things at home got challenging. In the book, there wasn't a lot of time spent discussing the economic ability his family had to treat and react to disability in a very different way than many other people. If someone was ill - they could, in a sense, throw some money at it; and, come together as a family, I don't want to downplay that part. But, I do wish there had been some discussion of this financial privilege and how it may have impacted or tinted some of his experiences.
I would recommend physically reading this book; not listening to the audiobook. I do normally love reading memoirs via audiobook, especially when the author is the reader. However, I do think the reader may be able to connect with the humor and stories more personally through a physical reading experience. As someone who also typically listens to audiobooks at a faster speed, the cadence of Greg's recording just didn't hit some of the comedic moments or serious moments in the way I would've expected.
In person, Greg is aware of and speaks on his economic privilege; but, in this book, it made it harder for me to connect with some of his journey, insights, and experiences when he was so easily able to go to another country when things at home got challenging. In the book, there wasn't a lot of time spent discussing the economic ability his family had to treat and react to disability in a very different way than many other people. If someone was ill - they could, in a sense, throw some money at it; and, come together as a family, I don't want to downplay that part. But, I do wish there had been some discussion of this financial privilege and how it may have impacted or tinted some of his experiences.
July 30, 2023
I had high hopes, I really did. It was somewhat compelling but the descriptions (MANY) of sex put me off. I am not a prude nor homophobic in ANY way. I just lost interest in who was doing what to whom after the zillionth time.
March 30, 2023
How I read this: Free ebook copy received through Edelweiss
Trigger warning: there are probably triggers that didn't register with me, so this is not exhaustive, but one very big one that I absolutely needed to mention is
This is just such a unique book, I don't think I've ever read anything quite like this. It's very intersectional, and I couldn't even tell you if it's more about being (secretly) gay or being (secretly) disabled - as it seems right to say that for the author, those two were inseparable parts of his experience (and it makes sense to not disconnect the two, as you only have the one experience you live).
I remember being shocked when I read the blurb, about how the author found out he has a truly life-changing diagnosis in his thirties, and that he's had it since being born, he's just never been told. Shocking to imagine living with cerebral palsy and NEVER KNOWING IT. Imagine being invalidated about the problems you are constantly having. Imagine not being able to figure out what's wrong with you, when you're seemingly normal. Imagine not knowing what it is that so incredibly molded your identity. I don't think I have words to describe what it makes me feel. It's hard to fathom.
And yet at the same time, you kind of see why the parents did it, and you kind of get it, and you see how he's pulled through and was fine. But... Still. Considering everything that happened in his life, wow. What a way to grow up.
But that's just the disabled side of the story. The book does talk a lot about being gay as well, and figuring yourself out. The author often portrays himself as a mess, failing, kind of a loser - but I don't really think he was, personally. It's just that really portrays how he felt about himself at the time - insecure, bumbling, always trying to hide things about himself because they were embarrassing. And yet, in the book, he is completely open about a lot of things he could have left unsaid. It takes guts to do that, and I admire it. I also felt like it summed up teenage problems and finding yourself in all that mess very well. Not many of us can say they had so many and such weird problems as Greg, but I'm sure as hell your problems felt just as real when you were younger.
The book is also about family. And boy did Greg have a crazy family. The amount of impossible and incredible situations, the unlikely tragedy and the comical way they always tried to look at it... Kind of unforgettable, really. And very touching, how that family impacted him and who he became. In many ways, it's a very touching book.
And though I didn't mention it with the triggers, this book is a very open one. Expect a lot of physicality, embarrassing and painful, uncomfortable and yucky physicality that we all try to pretend we don't have, but I mean. We all have bodies, we just pretend we're perfect Instagrammy people. Greg doesn't pretend he is, and I can respect that. Still, if you're squeamish about other people's (admittedly, very gay) sex and/or issues with many, MANY bodily functions, you may feel queasy reading it. Props to the author though. He's truly got balls for writing this book.
I thank the publisher for giving me a free copy of the ebook in exchange to my honest review. This has not affected my opinion.
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Trigger warning: there are probably triggers that didn't register with me, so this is not exhaustive, but one very big one that I absolutely needed to mention is
This is just such a unique book, I don't think I've ever read anything quite like this. It's very intersectional, and I couldn't even tell you if it's more about being (secretly) gay or being (secretly) disabled - as it seems right to say that for the author, those two were inseparable parts of his experience (and it makes sense to not disconnect the two, as you only have the one experience you live).
I remember being shocked when I read the blurb, about how the author found out he has a truly life-changing diagnosis in his thirties, and that he's had it since being born, he's just never been told. Shocking to imagine living with cerebral palsy and NEVER KNOWING IT. Imagine being invalidated about the problems you are constantly having. Imagine not being able to figure out what's wrong with you, when you're seemingly normal. Imagine not knowing what it is that so incredibly molded your identity. I don't think I have words to describe what it makes me feel. It's hard to fathom.
And yet at the same time, you kind of see why the parents did it, and you kind of get it, and you see how he's pulled through and was fine. But... Still. Considering everything that happened in his life, wow. What a way to grow up.
But that's just the disabled side of the story. The book does talk a lot about being gay as well, and figuring yourself out. The author often portrays himself as a mess, failing, kind of a loser - but I don't really think he was, personally. It's just that really portrays how he felt about himself at the time - insecure, bumbling, always trying to hide things about himself because they were embarrassing. And yet, in the book, he is completely open about a lot of things he could have left unsaid. It takes guts to do that, and I admire it. I also felt like it summed up teenage problems and finding yourself in all that mess very well. Not many of us can say they had so many and such weird problems as Greg, but I'm sure as hell your problems felt just as real when you were younger.
The book is also about family. And boy did Greg have a crazy family. The amount of impossible and incredible situations, the unlikely tragedy and the comical way they always tried to look at it... Kind of unforgettable, really. And very touching, how that family impacted him and who he became. In many ways, it's a very touching book.
And though I didn't mention it with the triggers, this book is a very open one. Expect a lot of physicality, embarrassing and painful, uncomfortable and yucky physicality that we all try to pretend we don't have, but I mean. We all have bodies, we just pretend we're perfect Instagrammy people. Greg doesn't pretend he is, and I can respect that. Still, if you're squeamish about other people's (admittedly, very gay) sex and/or issues with many, MANY bodily functions, you may feel queasy reading it. Props to the author though. He's truly got balls for writing this book.
I thank the publisher for giving me a free copy of the ebook in exchange to my honest review. This has not affected my opinion.
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August 22, 2023
A very slice-of-life memoir following Greg Marshall’s journey growing up gay (in ‘90s Utah) and disabled (with “tight tendons” that he didn’t find out was actually cerebral palsy until he was thirty). It’s about Greg’s self-acceptance of these two things, and their similarities, as much as it is the story of his entire family. But mostly his parents—his dad died from ALS shortly after Greg graduated from college, and mom battled cancer all throughout his childhood. It was them who kept the truth about Greg’s disability from him for fear that the label would hold him back, though they did, for the most part, accept Greg for being gay. Greg’s mom, who turned out to be queer herself, really flew off the page in every scene. I’d read HER memoir for sure. Overall it was a little slow but a very good memoir that did exactly what memoir should do. Tell a good story about an interesting person in a well-crafted way. And I was personally a big enjoyer of the many Mormon-adjacent Utah in-jokes. Greg and I really get each other, I think.
May 20, 2024
I don’t know what I was expecting…but it wasn’t what I expected. I feel bad giving it only 3 stars because it is a real person’s life, but I wasn’t fully invested at times. If anything, it did give me much greater insight into the fear of HIV/AIDS in the 80/90/00s as well as insight into caring for people with terminal illness. It also gave me a laugh or two. Fiction is more my genre, but I’m still glad I read this!
April 11, 2024
Fanfreakintastic.
October 19, 2023
There's a potentially great gay memoir hidden inside this otherwise dull, bloated book about a guy who has a family with a ridiculous amount of health problems. And his leg is the least interesting thing on these pages, so the title is misleading and the content unsatisfying.
Greg Marshall things he's a lot of things that he isn't, including being smart, handsome, and able to write. This guy with the "tight leg tendons" claims that he was unaware until he was almost 30 that he really had cerebral palsy, which means this brainiac never did a basic online search to discover what his symptoms meant. Same with his erectile issues--he claims he didn't give any thought to using Viagra to help him limp dick until his lesbian mother accidentally ingested some from Costa Rica and passed it along to the late-20s adult male (you read that correctly).
He bemoans the fact that his parents withheld his real condition from him so he wouldn't grow up with any stigma--and the crazy thing is that it appears to have worked! No one really makes fun of him and accept him as he is, though he is constantly worried about what people think.
But his leg makes up only a small portion of this. Most of it is devoted to his well-off but kind of crazy family who live in Utah (though they're not Mormon). His mom has cancer for many years, his dad suddenly develops ALS and dies, the writer's mother than starts a lesbian relationship with a doctor who treated her, and eventually the younger sister is found to be on the autistic scale. If any of this sounds fascinating, their stories are so poorly communicated with no emotion that you will not even care and wonder when he's going to get to the real story of himself.
His sexuality is the one major storyline in this bloated autobiography that is worth telling. There are enough physical details and conclusions drawn to make that aspect stand out. Near the end comes a typical gay memoir tragedy but it's told in an appropriately abrupt way to stun us. However, if you're looking for an inspirational story about the LGBTQ community this isn't it--Marshall's private life is essentially the stereotypical random hookups, unkept commitments, and close gay lovers lying over and over in order to hide their real selves.
The author is mistaken however when he writes, "AIDS was shrouded in shame and secrecy, the kind of thing that cast a long shadow. Cancer...didn't scare anyone away." Trust a person who has gone through it twice--no one wants to touch someone lying in the hospital being treated for cancer and it scares pretty much everyone.
He does make one great point that he learned from one of the Wizard of Oz film munchkins that he met in her old age: "History isn't told by the winners. It's told by the living....to succeed you (just) have to stick around." The irony was that a number of people close to him didn't stick around, but the mother who seemed to take everyone's health the least seriously while fighting her own cancer with everything that's in her is the one who has prevailed.
The clever cover graphics emphasizes the body and the disabled leg. But this should have instead focused on his most pleasured body part and his attitude. The title really should have been Ass: The Story of a Bottom and the Man Who Grew Up With It.
Greg Marshall things he's a lot of things that he isn't, including being smart, handsome, and able to write. This guy with the "tight leg tendons" claims that he was unaware until he was almost 30 that he really had cerebral palsy, which means this brainiac never did a basic online search to discover what his symptoms meant. Same with his erectile issues--he claims he didn't give any thought to using Viagra to help him limp dick until his lesbian mother accidentally ingested some from Costa Rica and passed it along to the late-20s adult male (you read that correctly).
He bemoans the fact that his parents withheld his real condition from him so he wouldn't grow up with any stigma--and the crazy thing is that it appears to have worked! No one really makes fun of him and accept him as he is, though he is constantly worried about what people think.
But his leg makes up only a small portion of this. Most of it is devoted to his well-off but kind of crazy family who live in Utah (though they're not Mormon). His mom has cancer for many years, his dad suddenly develops ALS and dies, the writer's mother than starts a lesbian relationship with a doctor who treated her, and eventually the younger sister is found to be on the autistic scale. If any of this sounds fascinating, their stories are so poorly communicated with no emotion that you will not even care and wonder when he's going to get to the real story of himself.
His sexuality is the one major storyline in this bloated autobiography that is worth telling. There are enough physical details and conclusions drawn to make that aspect stand out. Near the end comes a typical gay memoir tragedy but it's told in an appropriately abrupt way to stun us. However, if you're looking for an inspirational story about the LGBTQ community this isn't it--Marshall's private life is essentially the stereotypical random hookups, unkept commitments, and close gay lovers lying over and over in order to hide their real selves.
The author is mistaken however when he writes, "AIDS was shrouded in shame and secrecy, the kind of thing that cast a long shadow. Cancer...didn't scare anyone away." Trust a person who has gone through it twice--no one wants to touch someone lying in the hospital being treated for cancer and it scares pretty much everyone.
He does make one great point that he learned from one of the Wizard of Oz film munchkins that he met in her old age: "History isn't told by the winners. It's told by the living....to succeed you (just) have to stick around." The irony was that a number of people close to him didn't stick around, but the mother who seemed to take everyone's health the least seriously while fighting her own cancer with everything that's in her is the one who has prevailed.
The clever cover graphics emphasizes the body and the disabled leg. But this should have instead focused on his most pleasured body part and his attitude. The title really should have been Ass: The Story of a Bottom and the Man Who Grew Up With It.
August 4, 2024
This memoir had me crying, chuckling, groaning and so much more. The author’s coming of age story filled with love, loss, sex, family and tight tendons might not be relatable to all but the heart at the center of it certainly will be.
February 28, 2024
This was a delight to read. Heavy-hitting stuff, finding yourself born into a family with mom suffering from seemingly never-ending cancer, dad - fighting his way back from a broken neck - learns he is doomed to live out the rest of his life with ALS, and discovering as an adult that these two loving parents hid from you the fact that you were diagnosed with cerebral palsy as an infant. That's some deep stuff, and that's just on the first two pages.
There are what would appear to be intrusively deep dives into Greg Marshall's life, dealing with a leg and foot that won't cooperate as he navigates his way through life closeted not only with his disability, but also with his homosexuality. No holds are barred in Marshall's descriptions of his exploits through each of the two halves or his journey, but coming from a filter-free environment, peppered with the love and angst and fear and laughter of some amazing siblings and those parents. This is so very much worth picking up to read. I'd go so far as to recommend finding the audiobook, read by the author. He wrote it, so of course he nails it.
This is written the day I finished the book, and I have to put it on my year's Best Of shelf for non-fiction so far. We'll see if it makes the final cut at year's end.
There are what would appear to be intrusively deep dives into Greg Marshall's life, dealing with a leg and foot that won't cooperate as he navigates his way through life closeted not only with his disability, but also with his homosexuality. No holds are barred in Marshall's descriptions of his exploits through each of the two halves or his journey, but coming from a filter-free environment, peppered with the love and angst and fear and laughter of some amazing siblings and those parents. This is so very much worth picking up to read. I'd go so far as to recommend finding the audiobook, read by the author. He wrote it, so of course he nails it.
This is written the day I finished the book, and I have to put it on my year's Best Of shelf for non-fiction so far. We'll see if it makes the final cut at year's end.
July 1, 2024
Greg Marshall absolutely blew me away with this. I finished it in 2 sittings. I'd also HIGHLY recommend listening to the audiobook (narrated by the author) vs reading the print/ebook version.
As a two-healthy-leg-having (see also: able. But Greg's humor inspired me, what can I say) person, the perspective shared - along with how he shared it - left a lasting impact on the way I think about physical disabilities, especially those that happen to make getting from Point A to Point B a pain in the ass.
An admittedly not great and pretty annoying quality of mine: I can get uncomfy when forced to face my own ability and the accidental ableism I find myself falling into portraying. This book helped me with that. I was surprised how nonchalant it felt to audibly LOL with (not AT) him and the situations he'd find himself in.
I highly, highly recommend this book to anyone and everyone. I do think someone who has been impacted by physical disability in one way or another will benefit and enjoy this book most, though.
As a two-healthy-leg-having (see also: able. But Greg's humor inspired me, what can I say) person, the perspective shared - along with how he shared it - left a lasting impact on the way I think about physical disabilities, especially those that happen to make getting from Point A to Point B a pain in the ass.
An admittedly not great and pretty annoying quality of mine: I can get uncomfy when forced to face my own ability and the accidental ableism I find myself falling into portraying. This book helped me with that. I was surprised how nonchalant it felt to audibly LOL with (not AT) him and the situations he'd find himself in.
I highly, highly recommend this book to anyone and everyone. I do think someone who has been impacted by physical disability in one way or another will benefit and enjoy this book most, though.
July 30, 2023
beautiful devastating hilarious and just all around a great time. thank u zack knoll for sending me this book i owe you my everything
January 7, 2024
Listened as an audiobook and really enjoyed hearing Greg read the book himself! He writes with humor and compassion about his young life - growing up with cerebral palsy (and not knowing !), coming out as gay, his mother's off and on battle with cancer, and later his father's battle with ALS. I found myself laughing out loud at multiple parts and also crying more than once. Greg paints such a full and beautiful portrait of life and family! I recommend it highly!
September 13, 2024
Really stuck with me.
April 25, 2024
Finished this on audiobook so I was slightly less attentive for the later 2/3. But I enjoyed these clever & personal essays — the author has such a uniquely funny voice. Greg Marshall comes from a family where he was a caregiver from a young age for both his parents, and also a family that hid his disability from him in a misguided way. Through that and being gay, he does a lot of exploration of what we hide/put in the closet and what we disclose.
June 6, 2023
Leg is a memoir by Greg Marshall about his relationship with his family, his coming to the realization that he is gay, and his... leg. Marshall has cerebral palsy, but what is surprising about his relationship with his condition is that he didn't KNOW he has CP until he was much older in life. His parents never said his diagnosis, so when people asked about his limp, he attributed it to other conditions (that are associated with CP). My favorite parts of this memoir were his relationships with his parents. They owned newspapers and his mother would often highlight Marshall's challenges and his poetry in her articles in these papers. His mother has cancer which is recurring and affects much of his relationship with her. His relationship with his father is very moving. My favorite chapter of the book is about the author's school trip to France where his father comes along as a chaperone. While illness is expected with his mother's condition, the family is thrown for a loop when his father is diagnosed with ALS and is dead within two years. Marshall's relationship with his four other siblings are not much of a focus of the book outside of his youngest sister Moe. Moe serves as another example of their parents not recognizing their disabilities. There is a LOT to mine in this book. I haven't even touched on his road to acceptance about his attraction to men and interesting romantic relationships he's had over his life. Because there is so much here, it can come across as a bit all over the place, and perhaps emphasis on one or two areas may have been more cohesive. Thank you to Abrams Press via NetGalley for the advance reader copy in exchange for honest review.
April 24, 2023
Relentlessly funny, bitingly self-aware, and surprisingly moving, Greg Marshall has written a masterful memoir of his sexuality and, unbeknownst to him, disability alongside his remarkable, outlandish, lovable family. I LOVED this book!
I was honored to be mailed an advance copy from Abrams thanks to my job as a bookseller. I was even more honored when I received an email from Greg Marshall and then, amazingly, an extremely kind mailed thank you note for my review!
I was honored to be mailed an advance copy from Abrams thanks to my job as a bookseller. I was even more honored when I received an email from Greg Marshall and then, amazingly, an extremely kind mailed thank you note for my review!
July 27, 2023
4 stars
Greg is funny, relatable, good writer with a wonderful & wacky family. I really enjoyed this memoir about disability, queerness, love, & family.
[What I liked:]
•Greg and his family are such interesting & cool people! His sister Mo sounds like the coolest person ever. His dad seems like he was a really kind, genuine, dad-joke-loving person. His mom must be a force of nature! I enjoyed getting to know them a bit from these recollections.
•It was interesting to hear about Greg’s experiences growing up in Utah as a gay kid during the AIDS crisis. Fortunately he had/has a supportive family, but I have a new appreciation for how things have improved on the disability & queer rights fronts, even though there’s definitely still a long way to go.
•I also appreciated hearing his perspectives on dating and finding love as a person with cerebral palsy, losing a partner to illness, & his wedding.
[What I didn’t like as much:]
•I just liked it! No complaints!
CW: ableism, terminal illness, homophobia, infidelity, mental illness
[I received an ARC ebook copy from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. Thank you for the book!]
Greg is funny, relatable, good writer with a wonderful & wacky family. I really enjoyed this memoir about disability, queerness, love, & family.
[What I liked:]
•Greg and his family are such interesting & cool people! His sister Mo sounds like the coolest person ever. His dad seems like he was a really kind, genuine, dad-joke-loving person. His mom must be a force of nature! I enjoyed getting to know them a bit from these recollections.
•It was interesting to hear about Greg’s experiences growing up in Utah as a gay kid during the AIDS crisis. Fortunately he had/has a supportive family, but I have a new appreciation for how things have improved on the disability & queer rights fronts, even though there’s definitely still a long way to go.
•I also appreciated hearing his perspectives on dating and finding love as a person with cerebral palsy, losing a partner to illness, & his wedding.
[What I didn’t like as much:]
•I just liked it! No complaints!
CW: ableism, terminal illness, homophobia, infidelity, mental illness
[I received an ARC ebook copy from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. Thank you for the book!]
July 6, 2023
When I heard an interview with the author on NPR earlier this year, my interest was piqued— both for my own reading enjoyment and because I was curious about whether his story would have YA appeal.
I enjoyed the book and Marshall’s quirky tone overall. However, something kept me at arm’s length. Marshall mentioned in his author’s note that a number of the chapters were published previously elsewhere, and I think that was the issue for me: this read more as a collection of essays rather than as a memoir. Some were very engaging, others less so, but each could stand alone.
He has had a crazy life. As he describes his family, “I have one of those families. I once overheard someone at a party describe us as a bunch of unlikeable assholes who happened to have a great dad— and that was coming from a friend. We’ve been through a lot and none of it seems to have made us better people. It’s just made us more us.” Marshall realizes early on that he is gay. He doesn’t realize until adulthood that his physical disabilities (described by his mother as “tight tendons”) are actually manifestations of cerebral palsy. He is very explicit with his readers about his frustrations with his physical condition, and the ways that they affect his sex life. Sex plays a pretty big part in several of the chapters (“Marshall Family Vibrator” chronicles the childhood realization that the Brookstone back massager is good for other things). But it’s not all sex. There are his mom’s recurring battles with cancer, and her determination to push through. There is his dad’s ALS diagnosis. There is the deep undercurrent of love for his family and friends.
A worthwhile read. More general adult, not one that I see as having the YA crossover appeal of other memoirs.
I enjoyed the book and Marshall’s quirky tone overall. However, something kept me at arm’s length. Marshall mentioned in his author’s note that a number of the chapters were published previously elsewhere, and I think that was the issue for me: this read more as a collection of essays rather than as a memoir. Some were very engaging, others less so, but each could stand alone.
He has had a crazy life. As he describes his family, “I have one of those families. I once overheard someone at a party describe us as a bunch of unlikeable assholes who happened to have a great dad— and that was coming from a friend. We’ve been through a lot and none of it seems to have made us better people. It’s just made us more us.” Marshall realizes early on that he is gay. He doesn’t realize until adulthood that his physical disabilities (described by his mother as “tight tendons”) are actually manifestations of cerebral palsy. He is very explicit with his readers about his frustrations with his physical condition, and the ways that they affect his sex life. Sex plays a pretty big part in several of the chapters (“Marshall Family Vibrator” chronicles the childhood realization that the Brookstone back massager is good for other things). But it’s not all sex. There are his mom’s recurring battles with cancer, and her determination to push through. There is his dad’s ALS diagnosis. There is the deep undercurrent of love for his family and friends.
A worthwhile read. More general adult, not one that I see as having the YA crossover appeal of other memoirs.
October 9, 2022
Marshall really knows how to demonstrate that truth is stranger than fiction! He's written a wonderful memoir about growing up in Utah as part of a very quirky and unique family. Funny, poignant, and brilliant, he holds nothing back - from learning to masturbate with a body massager from his brother, to becoming aware of his attraction to the same sex, to figuring out how to be a good bottom, to discovering he actually has a physical disability (not the "tight tendons" he had been told he had his entire life). It's all there, people, in unfiltered and sometimes hilarious glory. I would have liked to have known a little more about his siblings as they grew up though. There's one sister who disappears from the book after being mentioned a few times in the beginning. It was a little strange, given that his other siblings are larger than life. I know it's a book about Marshall, but his family was as much of a main character as he was. I appreciated gaining an understanding about what it's like to live with a disability and to struggle with sexuality. I'm looking forward to reading more from him in the future.
August 25, 2023
8/24/23 update:
I think my original review was way too hard on this book.
I'm increasing my rating from four to five stars. I'm glad this book exists, and I hope Greg Marshall keeps publishing books.
This author is a wonderful person. I wish him all the best with his life, and with his publishing career.
**********
Published in June 2023, "Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew from It," is the debut memoir of Greg Marshall.
The book details Marshall's childhood, his burgeoning sexuality and adult sex life, and the lovingly chaotic, label-withholding atmosphere of his home life. That label-withholding atmosphere included keeping the words 'cerebral palsy' out of the Marshall home. The word 'autism,' it turns out, was also banned in his youth. Marshall and his younger sister were told they were 'normal' and 'just like everyone else,' and this attitude was strictly enforced and upheld by everyone in the family.
While I appreciate that this book exists, and I am truly glad that Marshall had the courage and grit to pen his story, "Leg" was not a good read for me. I found this book to be overloaded with disparate information and analytically lacking to the point of feeling immature, and even juvenile. I believe "Leg" would've been better served as three different books, maybe more. The topics in this book needed more room to breathe, more room for reflection, more space for emotional depth. There was still so much unchecked, overt ableism on display in these pages that it made for very painful reading for me.
Marshall was raised in an affluent home, a home that employed a "cleaning lady" and a family that regularly vacationed in Hawaii, etc. His family's ability to make sure Marshall 'passed' as 'able-bodied' for the first thirty years of his life was largely a function of how much money they had to facilitate their denial. None of which is put into words in this book; the reader is left to puzzle out the truth for themselves, putting that information into words that Marshall does not use.
The majority of the page count of "Leg" is actually devoted to Marshall's life as a gay man, and the many challenges he has overcome in his search for romantic intimacy and connection.
In penning this book, it seems that Marshall longed to shed his societal role as a polite, mannered man and allow his writer's voice to revel in sarcasm, dark comedy, and graphic, gratuitous details of gay sex, body ailments, and all manner of unsettling content that is often completely taboo in 'polite company.' While I am often okay with grimdark depictions of physical details, the sarcastic tone just didn't work for me here. I did not find this book funny. I rode various waves of horror and revulsion on every page of this memoir.
Marshall grew up with an adopted Native American sister, and the issues of racism and Indigenous adoptions are as unexplored in this book as the issues of class, as well as the generational trauma that contributed to the mother's lifelong battle with cancer and the father's sudden death from ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis).
"Leg" read as a disjointed series of gratuitous spectacles, each one designed to be more shocking than the next. The book is not at all chronological, and pages and sections can be read completely out of order without losing any meaning.
Personally, this memoir is a one or two-star DNF for me, because I would not have finished this had I not felt compelled to do so. The author will be visiting my local bookstore this month, and the bookstore staff asked me to help promote the event.
I'm happy to give the bookstore a hand, and as far as this book goes, I think it's important that disabled people with different experiences are sharing their stories.
I listened to an author Q&A on YouTube today, and it was clear that the majority of Marshall's audience were gay men. I do think "Leg" is a great read for gay men who share Marshall's experience of struggling to accept their sexuality, fear of AIDS, and coming out in their youth. Also, the graphic details that Marshall shares about gay sex must be a relief for certain people to read about, when society mostly shuns that level of honesty.
Nothing about this book felt like it was written for me, and I just don't think I'm the right audience, in any way, for this memoir.
But I will give it 3.5 stars and round up to 4. I'm glad it exists for the people who need it. It's definitely not for me.
I think my original review was way too hard on this book.
I'm increasing my rating from four to five stars. I'm glad this book exists, and I hope Greg Marshall keeps publishing books.
This author is a wonderful person. I wish him all the best with his life, and with his publishing career.
**********
Published in June 2023, "Leg: The Story of a Limb and the Boy Who Grew from It," is the debut memoir of Greg Marshall.
The book details Marshall's childhood, his burgeoning sexuality and adult sex life, and the lovingly chaotic, label-withholding atmosphere of his home life. That label-withholding atmosphere included keeping the words 'cerebral palsy' out of the Marshall home. The word 'autism,' it turns out, was also banned in his youth. Marshall and his younger sister were told they were 'normal' and 'just like everyone else,' and this attitude was strictly enforced and upheld by everyone in the family.
While I appreciate that this book exists, and I am truly glad that Marshall had the courage and grit to pen his story, "Leg" was not a good read for me. I found this book to be overloaded with disparate information and analytically lacking to the point of feeling immature, and even juvenile. I believe "Leg" would've been better served as three different books, maybe more. The topics in this book needed more room to breathe, more room for reflection, more space for emotional depth. There was still so much unchecked, overt ableism on display in these pages that it made for very painful reading for me.
Marshall was raised in an affluent home, a home that employed a "cleaning lady" and a family that regularly vacationed in Hawaii, etc. His family's ability to make sure Marshall 'passed' as 'able-bodied' for the first thirty years of his life was largely a function of how much money they had to facilitate their denial. None of which is put into words in this book; the reader is left to puzzle out the truth for themselves, putting that information into words that Marshall does not use.
The majority of the page count of "Leg" is actually devoted to Marshall's life as a gay man, and the many challenges he has overcome in his search for romantic intimacy and connection.
In penning this book, it seems that Marshall longed to shed his societal role as a polite, mannered man and allow his writer's voice to revel in sarcasm, dark comedy, and graphic, gratuitous details of gay sex, body ailments, and all manner of unsettling content that is often completely taboo in 'polite company.' While I am often okay with grimdark depictions of physical details, the sarcastic tone just didn't work for me here. I did not find this book funny. I rode various waves of horror and revulsion on every page of this memoir.
Marshall grew up with an adopted Native American sister, and the issues of racism and Indigenous adoptions are as unexplored in this book as the issues of class, as well as the generational trauma that contributed to the mother's lifelong battle with cancer and the father's sudden death from ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis).
"Leg" read as a disjointed series of gratuitous spectacles, each one designed to be more shocking than the next. The book is not at all chronological, and pages and sections can be read completely out of order without losing any meaning.
Personally, this memoir is a one or two-star DNF for me, because I would not have finished this had I not felt compelled to do so. The author will be visiting my local bookstore this month, and the bookstore staff asked me to help promote the event.
I'm happy to give the bookstore a hand, and as far as this book goes, I think it's important that disabled people with different experiences are sharing their stories.
I listened to an author Q&A on YouTube today, and it was clear that the majority of Marshall's audience were gay men. I do think "Leg" is a great read for gay men who share Marshall's experience of struggling to accept their sexuality, fear of AIDS, and coming out in their youth. Also, the graphic details that Marshall shares about gay sex must be a relief for certain people to read about, when society mostly shuns that level of honesty.
Nothing about this book felt like it was written for me, and I just don't think I'm the right audience, in any way, for this memoir.
But I will give it 3.5 stars and round up to 4. I'm glad it exists for the people who need it. It's definitely not for me.
December 7, 2023
Leg is a really funny, loosely-chronological memoir about growing up in Utah (which sounds, no offense, terrible, I mean I have friends there - but all the same, I would not). Was I a little offended when I realized that Greg Marshall is, ummm, not that much older than me? Yes, I was, it kind of hurt my feelings.
But I got over it! I enjoyed the book a lot. I do think that there are a couple of topics on which Marshall's camp (complimentary) approach to serious issues doesn't quite pan out like one might hope. One of these is Important, and so it's introduces a discordant note into a book which, otherwise, is very (sorry to mix metaphors) graceful.
The book has three themes, I think. One is the titular leg, which is really brain damage. This recedes a bit as Marshall gets older and it becomes something he can, if not take for granted, understand as part of himself. The second is his sexuality, which he discusses in a self-deprecating way - not because being gay is embarrassing, but because it introduces new possibilities for Hijinks in a life already kind of prone to them.
The third theme, and I think the core of the book, is his relationship with and grief at his father's death. On the one hand, Marshall's father died so young that they never had an adult relationship - so a lot of the book is about how children take their parents for granted. This is very moving and funny. On the other hand, Marshall spent a lot of time as a caregiver for his father, as he was dying of ALS. This part is ... also ... very moving and funny.
It's also a secret source of book recommendations, which is nice.
But I got over it! I enjoyed the book a lot. I do think that there are a couple of topics on which Marshall's camp (complimentary) approach to serious issues doesn't quite pan out like one might hope. One of these is Important, and so it's introduces a discordant note into a book which, otherwise, is very (sorry to mix metaphors) graceful.
The book has three themes, I think. One is the titular leg, which is really brain damage. This recedes a bit as Marshall gets older and it becomes something he can, if not take for granted, understand as part of himself. The second is his sexuality, which he discusses in a self-deprecating way - not because being gay is embarrassing, but because it introduces new possibilities for Hijinks in a life already kind of prone to them.
The third theme, and I think the core of the book, is his relationship with and grief at his father's death. On the one hand, Marshall's father died so young that they never had an adult relationship - so a lot of the book is about how children take their parents for granted. This is very moving and funny. On the other hand, Marshall spent a lot of time as a caregiver for his father, as he was dying of ALS. This part is ... also ... very moving and funny.
It's also a secret source of book recommendations, which is nice.
August 27, 2024
Some random thoughts, mostly agreeing with other reviewers. "Leg" is very funny and sincere, striking an impressive balance with its more serious exploration of family, grief, disability, and love/sex/sexuality. The humor didn't always land for me, and like any memoir there are sections that are more or less engaging (I particularly liked the chapters about family and about his sexual journey, and how disability structures both of these experiences for him). Specifically, while it makes absolute sense for the author to discuss his experience of internalized ableism growing up, I struggled with some of the ways he talked about other people's experiences, like his sister, and honestly how he talked about some other folks as well. It made me wonder ... though the author doesn't claim to "know everything now," the way it's written feels very, "and this is what I learned from these experiences" rather than "this is what I'm still grappling with today." And I wonder how a more thorough examination of Greg Marshall in the Present might have shifted things. But overall, I liked "Leg" and if the description intrigues you, then you'll probably enjoy it.
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