Women of Other Worlds
Helen Merrick and Tess Williams had the chance to attend WisCon 20 in 1996. This book, which they co-edited, sprang directly from that experience. It’s a thick book – well over 400 pages – filled with fiction, poetry, and a variety of non-fiction pieces: some critical essays on authors or particular works, some collected correspondence, a few along the lines of memoirs. I haven’t read the whole lot yet, but the pieces I haven’t read are those that relate to work I’m unfamiliar with. So there are a couple relating to Lois McMaster Bujold, for example, which I’ll read when I’ve finally caught up with the world and read her stuff.
A complete review of the book would be… extensive, to say the least. But there are a few pieces that especially made me think. For a start, there were a few pieces of fiction that I didn’t really like. That’s an odd place to start a discussion of the collection, perhaps, but it was an important thing for me to realise and come to grips with. Part of me expects to always like everything in a particular set: all feminist SF, for example, or everything by Ursula le Guin… even everything SF, period. (This account for my dismay at not enjoying Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds as much as I had hoped, given my love of everything else he’s written.) So to discover that I didn’t like everything chosen by Merrick and Williams for inclusion was interesting, and gave me pause, and was ultimately quite useful in helping me think through my attitudes. There was much fiction I did like, of course, and one of those in particular was “Home by the Sea,” by Elisabeth Vonarburg. It’s a marvellous tale about struggling with identity, and family, and personal history, in the context of a vague environmental disaster. Kelley Eskridge’s “And Salome Danced” is also a brilliant piece, creepy and lush and subtle. Showing just how useful the internet has become in facilitating criticism, it’s followed by a essay comprising email correspondence from the Fem-SF list about that story, allowing for all sorts of interesting comparison and discussion.
As an anthology relating to WisCon, there are of course a couple of pieces relating to James Tiptree Jr, although – not unexpectedly – they’re neither straight biography nor criticism. There’s an excerpt from one of the cookbooks put out to raise money for the eponymous award, which is hilarious and sounds delicious and makes me want to buy the book, and Pat Murphy’s reminiscences about how the award got started. And Justine Larbalestier contributes an essay on “Alice James Raccoona Tiptree Davey Hastings Bradley Sheldon Jr”, and the stories told about that collection of identities, that makes me itch to go read the bio sitting on my shelf.
Judith Merrill, to whom the anthology is dedicated, finishes the anthology, with an excerpt from her memoirs, and a reflection on the compiling of the same. She had been a Guest of Honour at the con, and died before the anthology was completed. It’s another bio that I really must get my hands on, because she sounds like a most amazing woman, especially in the context of her time but really for all time. I’ve read hardly any of her work, and I’ve tried looking for one of her novels (Shadow on the Hearth), but she seems to be totally out print, which is tragic.
What Merrick and Williams show in this book is how different sorts of writing can work together to give an impression of a community, all its different aspects and ways of relating and divergences. It’s my sort of book; good fiction, good criticism, humour and an attempt to understand the world, or bits of it anyway.
An open letter
Dear Joanna
– do you mind if you call you Joanna? I’m not going to pretend like I know you from your writing, but Ms Russ feels rather distant and Professor Russ is rather intimidating. I do kinda get the feeling, from your work, that should I meet you in a social setting, after I recovered from my awkward fangirl-induced silence and/or hysteria, you would be Joanna. Thus –
Dear Joanna
I’m 31. That means all of your novels were written before I was born. Much of your short fiction was, too, and almost all of your reviews. (Happily you’ve kept writing essays and the like, so I’ve got heaps still to read – not that I’m even through your fiction yet.) Despite being an historian myself, and one obsessed by the ancient and medieval worlds at that, there is a small part of me that is still somewhat amazed that work from before my birth can have an impact on me. Although I quite like Ancient Greek tragedy, for example, medieval literature rarely affects me on a visceral level; it’s too foreign; I mostly like the ancient tragedies because they’ve become so wrapped up in Western European culture.
The point is, your fiction does affect me. I’m only a child of the ’70s by the grace of three months, and I grew up in Australia, so I don’t really understand the anti-feminist rhetoric that so clearly affected The Female Man, for example. I sometimes get made fun of for identifying as a feminist, which is insulting and horrible and all those sorts of things, but it’s never turned actively nasty, actively hostile – which I know is a blessing. Reading The Female Man, especially the section where you anticipate reviewers’ reactions? Well. It was like a punch to the guts to realise that you expected that sort of reaction. And it makes me admire you fiercely for being willing to put your work out there and endure that sort of reaction because you believed in your work, and in what you were saying.
(All of this may make me sound naive and innocent. I’m not, really. It’s just that my understanding of second-wave feminists’ experiences has often been a bit academic, I guess. Hostile critical reviews, especially when they’ve already been actively anticipated and lampooned, are not academic.)
The first of your work that I read was “When it Changed,” and I had the advantage of reading it without already knowing the reality of life on Whileaway. When I gave a copy of that story and The Female Man to a friend of mine entering law school (she has a Masters in Philosophy as well, don’t worry), I had to scribble out the intro to “When it Changed” because it revealed who the narrator was, which is of course most of the fun. Since then, I’ve read one of your Alyx stories, The Two of Them, “Souls” (which I was overwhelmingly excited to see as a double with a Tiptree story!), and To Write like a Woman. I really enjoyed that collection of your non-fiction, by the way, and I’m dead keen to get the others. You have such an incisive mind, and such a delightful turn of phrase. I especially enjoyed your essays on “What can a Heroine do? or why Women can’t Write,” and “Somebody’s Trying to Kill me and I think it’s My Husband: the Modern Gothic.” You maintain an inspiring balance between humour, and compassion, and cutting criticism that makes your work wonderful to read. So, thank you for that. You have indeed inspired me.
My one issue I wanted to mention is your early dismissal of stories you said you were set in “galactic suburbia.” Admittedly I only know about this from Lisa Yaszek’s book of that same name. I quite enjoy the (well-written) stories set there, and I’m wondering whether you have changed your mind since your discussion of them. If you haven’t, that’s fine… I guess I wonder if, with distance between then and now, things have changed. And at the heart of that wonder is the question of whether you think things actually have changed enough for it to be worth changing your mind. This is getting convoluted; let me explain my (now admittedly naive) thought process. I am presuming that part of your dismissal stemmed from the idea that those stories weren’t feminist enough, and that female authors ought to be writing more challenging, more overtly feminist, work. Maybe I’m wrong; maybe you just didn’t like them. Fair enough. But if my assumption has any truth, do you now think that there can be a place for more domestically-oriented texts? Hmm… it may well be that I am just digging myself in deeper now, and this is making me sound totally unreconstructed.
The reality is, this is fanmail. I love your work. I love that you write/wrote fiction and non-fiction, that you are an academic who is passionate about science fiction, that you are a passionate feminist, and – what spins me out – that you have been those things for so long (sorry, I don’t mean to imply that I think you are old…). You are an inspiration to me.
With deep regards and immense gratitude
Alex
2011 Book Club
Thanks to a tip from Tansy, I have just signed myself up for an online book club for 2011: women in science fiction. I’ve read two – The Handmaid’s Tale and Lilith’s Brood (although I read that as three separate books) – and already own another – Mappa Mundi, which I will read before the designated month because Robson is one of the GoH at Swancon36/Natcon50. Of the others, I’ve been hanging out to read more than half of them, and know the names of most of the others, so this will be a great opportunity to get stuck into them and also discuss them to bits! I’m looking forward to it a lot.
Galactic Suburbia 20!!
You can download us from iTunes or from our website!
In which we talk World Fantasy, female editors, Joanna Russ, James Tiptree Jr, Connie Willis, Pat Murphy, and more World Fantasy – plus Alisa tells us off for not mentioning how awesome certain books actually are (we totally did).
News
World Fantasy Award winners!
Peter Tennant at Black Static looks at the stats for women being published in recent horror & dark fantasy anthologies; the Hathor Legacy compares representation of female authors in two recent horror anthols.
Cat Sparks is the new fiction editor of Cosmos, taking over from Damien Broderick.
Discussion on the lack of female editors in pro fantasy publications (read through the comments which raise many important points about the post).
Steampunkgate (yes, really):
Charles Stross criticises the “glut” of steampunk and calls it out at a subgenre;
Nisi Shawl talks about the literary side of steampunk just isn’t as diverse and interesting as the other aspects of steampunk… yet;
Catherynne Valente rants and then raves about steampunk;
Scott Westerfeld gets cranky about the steampunk haterz.
Small press turned imprint to publish line of multicultural SF/Fantasy for children.
Jeff VanderMeer reports on Amazon Best of SF/F lists for 2010.
What have we been reading/listening to?
Alex: Changeless, Gail Carriger; The Two of Them, Joanna Russ; Brightness Falls from the Air, James Tiptree Jr; Full Moon City, ed Darrell Schweitzer and Martin Greenberg; backlog of Tor.com (esp. AM Dellamonica’s “The Cage” and Robert Reed’s “The Next Invasion“) and Strange Horizons (esp. Sandra McDonald’s “Seven Sexy Cowboy Robots“).
Alisa: Fire Watch, Remake (both Connie Willis); White Cat by Holly Black; Ethan of Athos by Lois McMaster Bujold.
Tansy: The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, NK Jemisin, Adventures in Time and Space with Max Merriwell, by Pat Murphy.
Pet Subject
Capclave and World Fantasy Convention! Alex and Tansy interrogate Alisa about her trip away, her loot, her adventures and all the gossip.
Please send feedback to us at galacticsuburbia@gmail.com, follow us on Twitter at @galacticsuburbs, check out Galactic Suburbia on Facebook and don’t forget to leave a review on iTunes if you love us!
Pitch Black
I’m fairly sure that we watched Chronicles of Riddick at the movies one summer when it was unbearably hot outside. It looked exactly like our sort of thing: futuristic sets, awesome action/fighting sequences… excellent. Then we discovered that Riddick had had a previous outing, so of course it was a no-brainer: we had to find Pitch Black.
They are, of course, remarkably different movies. Pitch Black was made on a very tight budget, with a limited amount of time, in the Australian outback, and falls squarely into the SF/horror bracket. Chronicles had way more money and time – Diesel was a much bigger name three years later – and it is a much more lavish, grandiose film, that’s far more mainstream SF. And you can watch Chronicles without the benefit of Pitch Black, which is a remarkable achievement in a sequel.
But I’m not here to talk about Chronicles; that can wait. We re-watched Pitch Black a couple of days ago, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to muse on a couple of points.
Spoilers ahoy!
I love the anti-hero, and Riddick is close to the ultimate anti-hero. You really don’t know whether he’ll help the other survivors; the only reason I didn’t think he’d go for Johns’ plan is because he loathes Johns more than anyone else. I like that he is just human – frighteningly fast, strong, and quick-thinking, but he has no superpowers. Diesel sure knows how to deliver a line, too, which is one of the things that stops this film being way too grim for my liking.
The supporting cast is largely enjoyable. I love Claudia Black, so I’m always sad when she dies way too early. Radha Mitchell is nicely complex as the navigator trying to redeem herself, and it’s totally gutting that she doesn’t get to leave. Riddick’s one human moment comes with that stricken “not for me”. Paris P. Ogilvie is hilarious, and allows for a nice lightening of the mood; the Imam is an interesting choice for moral compass/unintimidated person. I wonder if he was only possible before the Sept 11 attacks? Perhaps becoming more feasible now…. I love Johns’ character because he alone has any real development – from apparent hero through to junkie bounty hunter, willing to sacrifice companions to save his own sorry butt. Plus, Cole Hauser is cool. And Jack – well, the kid certainly adds an interesting twist when he’s revealed to be a she. The implication that it’s bad enough that a boy would shave his head and enthuse about being a killer, but that for a girl to do so is that much more troubling, is fascinating.
I enjoy the cinematography and setting every time I watch it. There are just enough weird-ass camera shots that it has a less-than-mainstream feel to it, but not enough that I actually feel queasy. And the lighting is immensely effective. It’s overdone, but I think that’s part of its effectiveness. It’s so other, so alien, that the three suns thing feels like it fits right in. The whole eclipse-every-22-years thing? Totally terrifying. And I don’t know how many times I’ve seen this movie, but those damned monsters manage to scare me every single time: I forget when they’re going to appear, and then BAM – shriek! They’re utterly absurd, but they’re very clever.
Pitch Black remains a movie I will always enjoy re-watching.
I [heart] disaster movies
I avoided 2012 when it was at the cinema, because I figured it wasn’t going to be worth wasting my money on it there. However, if you saw it at the cinema and haven’t bothered to rewatch, let me suggest that you get the DVD and watch the special features, especially the one about the ‘science’ behind the movie: it is so, so worth it.
The scare-quotes around ‘science’ in that last sentence ought to tell you a bit about what I thought of this movie.
I have gradually come to the realisation that I am a total sucker for disaster movies. Natural or manmade, it’s all good: from Poseidon Adventure to Dante’s Peak, Inferno to Core, I just love them. Consequently, I really enjoyed 2012. But there’s no way I’m going to pretend that it was actually a good movie.
Some spoilers ahead!
For a start, I really enjoyed Chiwetel Ejiofor. I liked having a smart black man as a lead character, I liked having a sensible geography geek as a lead character, and I always enjoy a good moral scientist v immoral politician stoush. On which note, Oliver Platt was excellent as the politician, and his development from fairly sensible if somewhat (and necessarily) ruthless through to being entirely obsessed with his plan was very well played.
From my memory of the ads, I had thought that John Cusack was the main character, so I was surprised that Ejiofor’s character got quite so much play. I quite like Cusack as an actor, although this role was very different for him – and the whole SF-author-as-character thing generally has me rolling my eyes. His relationship with his family developed in somewhat unexpected ways, for which i was grateful; I had been anticipating a typical overblown Hollywood family – the reason why I won’t watch Deep Impact again, but watch Armageddon frequently. There was a bit of the divorced-parents stereotype playing out with the kids, but actually I thought the son in particular was quite a complex little character, with his angst towards the dad and love of the step-dad and wanting his dad to actually like the step-dad. I figured that someone would end up being sacrificed, one of the men, and I honestly wasn’t quite sure which it would be – and I was a little disappointed when it was step-dad. It would have been a much more interesting movie if they’d allowed step-dad to stay with the family, and also made it much more poignant that Ejiofor had brought Cusack’s book with him. But, you know, they didn’t. (Of course the much edgier version would have seen the two blokes get it on, but that was never going to happen.)
The plot… yeh. It actually had one, which was fun. I thought that the time jumps needed to be done a bit more obviously, because I was confused when they were talking about having prepared for this over years when it was only 10 minutes ago! I liked the split between national response and family response – I thought it was a pretty good split, time-wise. Having read Stephen Baxter’s Flood, when they first started talking about arks I was expecting spaceships, which would have been very, very interesting – and much more complex about how many people they could save. When I finally (eventually, much later than I ought to have) realised they were talking about floating ships… well, ok. It meant they could save more people, which was all nice and touchy-feely. And I had had several thoughts about how the movie could end, and managed to be a little surprised by the conclusion. It was something of a cop-out – especially Our Hero’s dad still being alive on the resort ship – but it was a nice (if admittedly tacky) touch to have them go back to Africa.
I enjoyed the effects. Some nice, utterly ridiculous scenes with the cars and the planes escaping from various encroaching disasters – they actually managed to be engrossing! I was gripped! One or two of the waves managed to not be entirely CGI-looking, which is an achievement.
So. 2012. Glad I didn’t see it at the movies, thoroughly enjoyable on a Saturday afternoon.
The Two of Them
I could say that I read this book, by Joanna Russ, to continue my education into feminist sf. That would partly be true. It does, however, make it sound like my reading of it was like adding bran to my muesli; something I felt I ought to do. And initially, there might have been a smidgeon of this in my thinking: I’d heard about The Female Man, for example, but hadn’t read it until last year. And it was so… amazing, and confronting, and challenging, that I realised I had to read more Russ to keep experiencing that. While also getting the chance to educate myself. It’s the same thing I get with reading history: I love the knowledge, and I love knowing it too.
The Two of Them is quite different from The Female Man. It’s a much more conventional narrative, in that it generally keeps to the same point of view throughout and has a generally straightforward timeline. There is some leaping between past and future, but that’s not exactly radical.
That said, there are some glimpses of the Russ I was expecting from The Female Man. There are instances of the author speaking to the audience, questioning her own narrative – not just her techniques, but the structure of the narrative itself. And this only happens towards the end of the story, so all of a sudden the reader is struck both with the fact of the story being a construction, and that the narrator may not be entirely trustworthy. That’s quite disconcerting.
The story revolves around a woman who was a teen in the US in the 1950s. She ends up working for a shadowy organisation that is never fully explained (which reminded me of the company in Iain Banks’ Transition, to the extent that I wonder whether he was influenced by it), and finds herself on a planet that is clearly based on the idea of a Muslim world. There, she meets a young girl who wants to be a poet, but only men are allowed to be. (Incidentally, it was at that point I got a weird feeling of deja vous. Flicking to the front of the books, I discovered a note thanking Suzette Haden Elgin for allowing Russ to use the characters from her short story “For the Sake of Grace” – I know I’ve read, sometime, in an anthology I can’t remember the name of. This is a fascinating example of intertextuality.)
The story moves into an exploration of issues concerning colonisation – does she have a right to interfere with how this planet’s society works? – and, of course, patriarchy and paternalism and coming face to face with the unconscious sexism that she’s been living with for years. Russ develops this particularly well, because the reader too is largely unaware of the sexism: it’s not like those stories where the characters are oblivious but the reader is shouting in rage. The discovery, the revelation, of how her personal relationships have been functioning is as surprising, and horrifying, and I guess depressing to the reader (well, this reader anyway) as for her.
Tied in with this meaty, crunchy (hi Tansy) exploration of issues, there’s also a scifi/adventure story. The SF element isn’t especially overt: there are space ships, and maybe time travel, but they’re just a part of the book’s reality – they don’t rate a great detailed explanation, because they don’t matter, in the same way that a toaster or a radio don’t rate explanation in a mainstream novel. It’s also short, at around 180 pages.
I can’t wait to read the essays on this novel in on Joanna Russ, which I’ve had sitting on my shelf for ages. I’m sure there are all sorts of issues and hints and allusions that I’ve missed, because they were specific to Russ’ context. This is the other thing I love about Russ’ writing: it allows for multiple re-readings, because it’s so complex – as well as being a great read.
Galactic Suburbia #19: the Greco-Roman issue
You can get us from iTunes or download us here!
While Alisa is away, Alex & Tansy play… in ANCIENT GREECE! We talk awards, the end of publishing as we know it, stressful feminist debates, Vonda McIntyre, Twitter fiction, Stargate, and whether there’s enough Greek & Roman mythology in modern fantasy.
News
Tansy wins WSFA Small Press Award for Siren Beat;
Last Drink Bird Head Award Winners;
John Joseph Adams takes over from Cat Rambo & Sean Wallace as editor of Fantasy Magazine;
Realms of Fantasy dies: from Shawna McCarthy, and the publisher;
Wiscon committee disappoints through inaction (also here); and then finally moves to disinvite Elizabeth Moon as GoH (warning, many of the comments on that one are pretty awful to wade through); also here and here;
Paul Collins on how the ebook revolution isn’t working so well ;
Cat Valente on tedium, evil, and why the term ‘PC’ is only used these days to hurt and silence people;
Peter M Ball explaining how white male privilege uses requests for civility to silence the legitimate anger of others;
on Vonda McIntyre’s “Dreamsnake”, a controversial Hugo winning novel from 1979 which has been out of print for 10 years; and an interview with Vonda McIntyre about the book.
What have we been reading/listening to?
Tansy: Death Most Definite, Trent Jamieson; Blameless, Gail Carriger, Bleed by Peter M Ball, “Twittering the Universe” by Mari Ness, Shine & “Clockwork Fairies” by Cat Rambo, Tor.com.
Alex: Silver Screen, Justina Robson; Sprawl; Deep Navigation, Alastair Reynolds; The Beginning Place, Ursula le Guin; abandoned Gwyneth Jones’ Escape Plans; listening to The 5th Race, ep 1 (Stargate SG1 fan podcast).
Pet Subject
Classical mythology in modern fantasy. Can it still work? Do you have to get it ‘right’?
Book mentioned:
The Firebrand, Marion Zimmer Bradley
Medea, Cassandra, Electra by Kerry Greenwood
Olympic Games, Leslie What
Dan Simmons’ Ilium and Olympos
Gods Behaving Badly, Marie Phillips
Troy, Simon Brown
Margaret Atwood’s Penelopiad and Jeanette Winterson’s Weight, also David Malouf’s Ransom – along the same lines as Lavinia by Ursula Le Guin
Robert Holdstock’s Celtika, Iron Grail, Broken Kings
Deep Navigation
What better book to take on an astroholiday than an Alastair Reynolds anthology? Dude’s an astronomer! It’s perfect!
I’d read maybe a third of these stories already, in other places, but I enjoyed re-reading all of them – and it was interesting to read them in the context of his other work. Given this was a collection of previously-published work, I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t arranged chronologically, because I think that would provide some interesting insight into the authors’ development of style and changing interests. I have no idea how the order of stories was decided. I did read them mostly in order (it’s what I do) although I did read one of the middle stories, “On the Oodnadatta,” first since hey: he’s Welsh, but he wrote a story set in waaay outback South Australia. What’s with that? Turns out, quite a lot – it’s one of those stories that starts off innocuously enough but ended up sending deep shivers of horror through my spine. Reynolds also managed to capture the slang and conversation of outback racist bogans very effectively.
I had a number of favourite stories from the collection. For a start, it was nice to see a story set in the Revelation Space universe, since I love it; “Monkey Suit” is about a ship fleeing Yellowstone and the plague there. It’s a closed system, of course, and it’s always interesting to see how authors handle personal interactions in that sort of environment. It’s made me want to re-read the Revelation Space books….
Although I ultimately felt a bit unsatisfied by it, I loved the idea behind “The Fixation”, because I’m fascinated by the Antikytheria Mechanism. I do wonder how people who aren’t familiar with the thing dealt with the story; it’s not vital to know anything about it, of course, because the story is about how history might be changed by seemingly-small things, but still – I think having knowledge of it helped. I liked the conjunction of alternate history timelines, sf theories of multiple universes, and ancient history.
I adored “Fury” when it was first published in Eclipse 2, and I adored it still on the re-read. The grand scope of the story, the slowly unfolding revelations about both personal and galactic issues, the moral conundrums… it’s breathtaking. It’s the essence of space opera, encompassing both the minutiae of the personal and the grandstand of human affairs over thousands of years.
On the other hand, this was the first time I’d read “Fresco.” It’s not really a story, more a vignette. And given that I read it while at an astronomy camp, amidst talk of galaxies and extraterrestrial life… well, I nearly cried.
Deep Navigation is not the easiest book to get hold of – it was published by NESFA, in honour of Reynolds being the Boskone Guest of Honour. It’s apparently limited to 1000 copies, but I’m not sure whether that means overall or just in the hardback version (I got #938). I’m awfully glad I got it, but that’s not a surprise, since I’m a Reynolds tragic…
A Galactic Suburbia special
And I forgot to mention…
The Galactic Suburbia Spoilerific Book Club!
Consider yourself warned. This is an incredibly spoilery discussion of LIAR by Justine Larbalestier. It’s not a little bit spoilery. It’s a LOT spoilery. And if you don’t believe us that this is the kind of book that you really truly don’t want to be spoiled for, consider the facts:
1) We invented the Galactic Spoilerific Book Club purely to discuss this book
2) We actually feel a bit uncomfortable even mentioning how much you don’t want to be spoiled for this book, because that in itself might mess with your reading experience
3) You trust us, right?
If on the other hand you have read LIAR by Justine Larbalestier, come on by and listen to us flap our hands as we try to articulate just what’s going on in this book.
Also, stretching back into the mists of time before Galactic Suburbia existed (hard to imagine, I know) check out Alex, Alisa and Tansy podcasting back in 2008 with our friend Kathryn, on the (then) entire bibliography of works by Justine. Yes, it’s a Larbalestpalooza!
Randomly Yours, Alex 