This book was half of a gift (its companion was Donna Tartt's The Little Friend). I loved both. In Middlesex, the author of the Virgin Suicides returns years later with a mammoth novel that spans the 20th century; ranges from the Turkish-Greek border, to Detroit, Michigan and the affluent Grosse Point suburb, to Berlin, Germany; and tells the story of Cal Stephanides (who, due to a rare genetic mutation, was born a hermaphrodite and raised as a girl), his first-generation American parents Milt and Tessie, and his Greek immigrant grandparents Lefty and Desdemona. Eugenides' real trick is that he tells their stories with grace and ease and humor, and mostly avoids getting bogged down in history. Here the protagonist recalls sharing a high school locker room with the daughters of wealthy families, who he calls the Charm Bracelets after the tiny, solid-gold tennis rackets and Eiffel towers that tinkle on their wrists:

What can I say about my well-bred, small-nosed, trust-funded schoolmates? . . . The Charm Bracelets didn't study. They never raised their hands in class. They sat in the back, slumping, and went home each day carrying the prop of a notebook. (But maybe the Charm Bracelets understood more about life than I did. From an early age they knew what little value the world placed in books, and so didn't waste their time with them. Whereas I, even now, persist in believing that these black marks on white paper bear the greatest significance, that if I keep writing I might be able to catch the rainbow of consciousness in a jar. The only trust fund I have is this story, and unlike a prudent Wasp, I'm dipping into principal, spending it all . . .