Words: Melanie Senn's 'Murray,' a novel based on a true story

  • by Michele Karlsberg
  • Tuesday December 3, 2024
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Author Melanie Senn
Author Melanie Senn

When I first spoke with Melanie Senn about her historical novel, "Murray," it sparked an interest in a nano-second. Who doesn't love a story about a gender-bending historical figure.

Melanie shares the story of Murray Hall, who was a New York City bail bondsman and Tammany Hall politician who became famous on his death in 1901 when it was revealed that he was a biological female.

Senn's novel is based on this true story where only a few historical records exist. It explores themes of identity, survival, love, and the complexities of navigating a society, and relationships, where honesty comes at a high price.

To give life and a backstory to a fascinating man, who lived in such a restrictive yet exciting age, and in the most important city in the US, if not the world; that's where this author has proved her mettle. We discussed her journey in telling this story.

Author Melanie Senn  

Michelle Karlsberg: How did you first learn about Murray Hall?
Melanie Senn: In the early 2000s, while working toward a master's degree in English at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo, I was assigned to read Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself" from "Leaves of Grass." It's a long poem, and I didn't want to skim it, so I sat in my back yard and read it aloud. It took about three hours. I was astounded at the scope of the poem, the boldness, the capaciousness. I felt myself expanding as I read it.

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you."

With those first lines, Whitman asserts the inter-connectedness of all beings. Soon, I discovered an uncanny connection with Whitman: He died where I was born, Camden, New Jersey. It was until after I'd written "Murray: A Novel" that I visited Whitman's grave at Harleigh Cemetery. The graves of some of my family members are near his.

I was tantalized by Whitman's sensuality, by his self-love and love of women and men. While writing a long essay about the homoerotic nature in some of his poems, I came across "Gay American History" by Johnathan Ned Katz, and as I was reading about Whitman, I stumbled on a page with a headline from The New York Times in 1901: "Murray Hall Fooled Many Shrewd Men: How for Years She Masqueraded in Male Attire. HAD MARRIED TWO WOMEN. Was a Prominent Tammany Politician and Always Voted — Senator Martin Astonished."

I spent the next 15 years learning everything I could about Murray Hall, who had been born Mary Anderson in Scotland in 1840.

Why do you find Murray's story so important?
When I first started the novel in the early 2000s, I simply set out to write a novel about an audacious person who captured my imagination. Yet the culture regarding LGBTQ individuals and same sex marriage was literally changing as I was writing the book. Murray's story, despite having played out well over a century ago, uncannily intersects with the social issues of today.

I have always been drawn to individuals who risk everything to manifest their truest selves. Murray Hall risked everything to live as a visible man. He played poker, drank whiskey, and smoked cigars in crowded male-only bars, worked as a politician, "married" twice, adopted his second wife's daughter. Murray could be violent, especially when his identity, which his livelihood depended upon, was threatened, and yet he was also tender and loving.

In the beginning of the novel, we learn that Murray has untreated breast cancer and that his prognosis is grim. His greatest conflict is that his adopted daughter, who does not know Murray's secret, will feel deceived when she learned he had not been born a man. But what if he tells her the truth and she rejects him?

Is this personal for you?
My father, who was also born in Camden, New Jersey, was discharged from the Navy, abused alcohol, had bouts of homelessness, and attempted suicide several times. He and my mom separated when I was 8. There's a bit of evidence that leads me to believe that perhaps my father was gay. He died at 53, the age I am now.

My mom is gay. She is white, and her partner is a Black woman. They are 77 and 78 years old now and have been together more than 30 years.

And though I am in a monogamous marriage with a man — we just celebrated our 25th anniversary — I dated both men and women before I was married. I knew from an early age that the attraction and affection I felt for certain individuals didn't have a basis in sex or gender identity.

I have always been a bit genderfluid. I was a tomboy; I grew up with an older brother and wanted to do everything he got to do. I dressed in masculine clothing, worked on cars, surfed (I still surf, though when I started surfing nearly 40 years ago, there were rarely women in the water). Sometimes I think part of me is still trying to be a teenage boy!

So yes, it is personal for me. As a society still have so much work to do when it comes to acceptance of gender and sexual fluidity. In my mind, we all fall on these beautiful spectrums; it's frustrating that so many people don't realize what a positive thing that could and should be.

www.melaniesenn.com

Michele Karlsberg Marketing and Management specializes in publicity and marketing for the LGBTQ+ community. This year, Karlsberg celebrates 35 years of successful campaigns. www.michelekarlsberg.com

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