Reviewed by: Continental Divide by Alex Myers Em Williamson (bio) continental divide Alex Myers University of New Orleans Press https://www.uno.edu/unopress/continental-divide 291 pages; Print, $18.95 In his second novel, Continental Divide, Alex Myers puts contemporary masculinity under scrutiny by transporting us away from contemporary settings and back to 1990s rural Wyoming. In doing so, he creates a setting rife with narrative possibility. At once familiar and reimagined by Myers's lush prose, the Wyoming of this novel is used as the locus of American masculinity, peopled by gruff ranchers and barflies and characterized for us as "the land where men were men, or they got the hell out of town." Wyoming, therefore, takes on a paradoxical resonance in the novel. It is at once an oppressive landscape, terrifying in its stasis and its hypermasculinity, and a necessary proving ground for a young man looking to forge an identity. What unfolds on this inauspicious terrain leaves the reader with a satisfying bildungsroman and an unflinching look at the interior life of a young transgender man. On the surface, Continental Divide recounts the coming of age of its protagonist, Ron Bancroft, and finds its introduction just after Ron's somewhat disastrous coming-out as a female-to-male transgender person. Ron is an affable narrator, full of candor and acquisitive urgency, but it is what lies beneath the semiautobiographical surface of this novel that most brings it to life. Myers's novel opens out from Ron and his journey into a meditation on the tensions external forces impose on one's own gender identity. It is about the antic juggling act of self-expression and the struggle to reconcile identity with the outside world. Myers isn't afraid to make this line of inquiry immediately apparent. The novel opens with a to-do list, the third item of which functions as a succinct description of all that follows: "Prove to the world (myself?) that I can live as a guy." The questioning nature of that parenthetical is, of course, the central conflict of the novel, with the desolate Wyoming landscape providing a complex backdrop for Ron's attempt at self-discovery. Upon arrival in the little [End Page 82] town of Cody, Ron secures a menial job at a ranch and encounters the cast of characters that will hinder and assist him as he tries to tick this most pertinent item off his list. Namely, there is the trio of siblings who operate the ranch: Gus, Marc, and Cassie (full names Augustus, Marcus Aurelius, and Cassiopeia, a bit of symbolism that stretches far past the point of cogency). Myers fashions these characters into conduits for the strains of labor, violence, and sex on Ron's gender identity, and each of them reconfigure his perceptions of masculinity as the novel progresses. The men of Cody, Gus and Marc included, are sometimes written to the point of stereotype—they are homophobic, sexist, a little dim-witted. A newcomer to such unabashed machismo, Ron is equal parts intrigued and repulsed by their behavior. He admits to recognizing the patriarchal implications, but cannot resist imbricating their modes of expression with his own and ultimately concludes that "I wanted some of what they had—a bit of the swagger, a share of the ease—but I didn't want the whole package." This clearheaded worldview is typical of Ron, who comes across sometimes as having the confidence of a much older man. For instance, he describes his gender by saying, "I had known my whole life the truth of myself while the world kept telling me I had it wrong." Assured as this sounds, Ron finds himself still vulnerable to Wyoming's newfangled batch of external forces, and the tension of the novel begins when we see him question the utility of his own masculine expressions. Within the turbid waters of these competing modes of gender, Myers offers a deft criticism of contemporary masculinity's seeming inflexibility while never subordinating his novel to polemic treatise. He is sure, though, to offer us a redemptive path forward as well. When Ron embarks on a relationship with Cassie, even as a whole new...