Galactic Suburbia becomes an adult
I , like you, have to just accept that these show notes are accurate, as I was absent for the recording of this, the 18th episode of Galactic Suburbia! However, Tansy and Alisa have never given me reason to doubt them… yet…. The podcast can be got from iTunes, or streamed/downloaded from here, which is where I’m heading after uploading this post.
Episode 18: Special Horror Edition
In which we discuss translated awards, constructive feminist discourse on the internet, make a special Swancon announcement, and dissect our complex relationship with the horror genre.
News
Geffen Awards (Israel)
Torque Control discussion on women & the Clarke & the dire state of women in British SF, with list of all British releases of SF or SFnal books by women in 2010.
— inspired by interview with Tricia Sullivan.
Torque Control announces they will be blogging about 2010 British SF releases by women in December and ask for readers to join them. Also call for contributions of top 10 female authored SF books in the last decade for a theoretical “future classics’ list.
Super Special Swancon Announcement!
What have we been reading/listening to?
TANSY: The Wiscon Chronicles IV edited by Sylvia Kelso; Azu Manga Daioh by Kiyohiko Azuma; Asimovs & F&SF, Salon Futura
ALISA: secret projects & another Book I Am Not Reading
Pet Subject: while Alex is away, let’s talk about HORROR
– we’re both pretty selective about the horror/dark fiction we read. What does it have to do to catch our eye?
– favourite horror/dark writers
– where do we draw the line on what we like/can appreciate in horror?
– does our feminism get in the way of reading/enjoying horror fiction?
Please send feedback to us at galacticsuburbia@gmail.com, follow us on Twitter at @galacticsuburbs and on Facebook! and don’t forget to leave a review on iTunes!
All’s well that ends…
Enchanter’s End Game: Book 5 of the Belgariad
David Eddings
Me
Oh, the end.
Reading the last book in a series is a funny experience. I know someone who will often not watch the last episode or season of a show, or will not read the last book, because she doesn’t want it to end. I Could Not Do That. I need closure. I need to know how it all ends, how the strings are going to be tied together, how the characters could possibly, possibly get out of the bind they’re in. And, sometimes, I need the happy-ever-after, too. I’m that kind of girl.
TEHANI
Oh, completely agree! Not knowing how it ends, ESPECIALLY when you’ve invested in a lengthy series, is horrible! (I’m looking at you Melanie Rawn and Robert Jordan (with respect)). The happy-ever-after is nice, but not always warranted, as long as the resolution makes sense in terms of the character, world-building and plot that’s gone before – why yes, I’m still bitter about a certain Australian big fat fantasy quartet that ended in the most stupid manner imaginable… Fortunately, we don’t have that problem here.
Me
The final book of the Belgariad begins with Garion, Belgarath and Silk’s fairly tedious journey through Gar og Nadrak, on the way to what we have finally discovered is the whole point of the series: a showdown between Garion and Torak. One of the things that really appeals to me about this whole series is on the first page of the story: Garion admits, to himself at least, that he is afraid of this confrontation. I think this really struck a chord with the teenaged me, having perhaps watched a bit too much He-Man, Transformers, and similar, where no one is ever afraid. Garion is quite convinced that he is going to die – and yet he keeps on going. He is dubious about everything he’s discovered about his heritage, from being a sorcerer through to being a king, but he never really considers giving up. This sort of grim determination has become something of a staple in YA, and I think that’s a really great thing – but I still like it here, too.
TEHANI
It’s one of the real high points – demonstrating that it’s okay to be scared, and real courage means you keep going anyway. That’s a massive message, but it’s not preached at us, which makes it even more appealing.
Me
As an aside, I’m really glad that Eddings wrote both Belgarath and Polgara, to fill in some gaps. In the first few pages here we meet that random gold prospector in the mountains, and there’s a tantalising glimpse at both Belgarath and Polgara’s back story. I always really wanted to know more about Polgara being OWNED by someone, and the winter spent by the two of them with the prospector also sounded like it could be a good story. I’m still not entirely convinced by that Nadrak custom, but the prospector’s story was indeed worth it. I also really like the little vignette with Garion talking to the wolves – the idea that wolves have exquisite manners is very appealing – and again, Belgarath in particular gives a bit more about wolfish society.
TEHANI
Makes you wonder when they decided to write those prequels really – the old prospector’s not the only one whose story is explored in the two novels that tell the stories that came before – Vordai’s tale was another, and it makes me think about how much the Eddings team structured to set that up. It can’t have been on the cards from the beginning, because there are continuity errors between Belgarath, Polgara and the Belgariad and the Mallorean, but either they’re really good at making use of little tidbits dropped in along the journey, or they started planning that early on in the book writing.
Me
The only really interesting thing, for me, about the journey through Nadrak country – not being particularly keen on fur or gold mining – is our introduction to Vella, who gets much more of a part in The Mallorean. Her interaction with both her owner and her potential buyer demonstrate a really interesting take on how gender relations can function. It’s never explained, at least not sufficiently, why the custom is for men to own women; it’s also not explained at what ages ownership starts, and all those other messy legalistic things. However, the fact that ownership does not give automatic rights over a woman’s body, that she is well within her rights to defend herself with violence, and that a woman can dance incredibly provocatively and still be reasonably sure that no man will attempt to even grope her … well. That’s a mighty interesting idea. Problematic, in a number of ways, but mighty interesting.
Oh, I guess the other mildly fascinating part of Nadrak is its king, the absolutely revolting King Drosta. Debauched, alcoholic, and more than willing to be a two-faced traitor, he is really quite remarkable as a study in what monarchy can lead to. He’s still totally disgusting.
TEHANI
It’s funny on the reread, how small a part some of those characters actually play, because we know so much more about them from later books. Vella is great, but I remembered her being more present, because I’m confusing things from the Mallorean!
Me
From Nadrak our heroes pass through the land of the Morindim, making a rather interesting differentiation between magic and demon-summoning, and then finally we get back to the great big army that Ce’Nedra has gathered – with a side-trip through Cherek, to see Barak’s wife make the Cherek queen finally grow a spine, which is quite entertaining. So is Ran Borune finally being proud of his wayward child, rather than just doting.
TEHANI
Hmmm. Interesting statement “…to see Barak’s wife make the Cherek queen finally grow a spine…” Seems to me, on reflection, that a lot of the great actions by the female characters are orchestrated by someone else (often also female). Is that weird? I mean, I always knew Belgarath and Polgara were pulling the strings of most of the plot, but then there’s the way Islena is pushed around by Merel, and how Adara gently manipulates Ce’Nedra, and more and more examples. Is it a bad thing, or just an example of how women working together achieve more than they would alone? 🙂
Me
Sadly, for much of the time Ce’Nedra’s army is just moving across the Algar plain, and then winching those enormous Cherek warships up the ridiculous escarpment that separates Algaria from the Angaraks. It is actually a fascinating study in medieval-ish warfare: the amount of time it takes to manoeuvre everything and everyone in to position, and then the battle takes basically no time. And I love, love, love that Eddings brought King Fulrach of Sendaria along, made him to be in charge of the supply train, and then actually thought about the practical necessities of an army the size of this one. Feeding one’s soldiers is, of course, of prime importance – but a lot of fantasy writers, when they set up big battle set-pieces, imagine that you can feed hordes on what they can scavenge. When that means stealing from family-sized farms, I think your army is going to get might hungry, and then mighty rebellious, awfully quickly. Anyway – Fulrach comes in to his own, in this section, and it’s a marvellous sight to see. However, I’m no tactician, but surely the idea of having basically every Western king along for the ride – in a land with no electronic communication – is a plan of utmost folly? Yes, the queens are at home, and most of them are able to run the kingdom as efficiently as their husbands, but they’re presuming their populace is happy enough that they won’t take the opportunity to try something like rebellion. That’s a lot of trust. I suppose the number of men they’ve taken away for their own army means there are fewer at home to do the rabble-rousing.
TEHANI
I think the role of the gods plays a big part in how all the kings can bugger off to war. The Western nations all seem pretty secure in their monarchies (barring a bit of dissent sowed by the bear priests), and it’s set up to be their heritage, so the people accept it? Also, I’m no historian, but didn’t the kings of old used to lead their armies in their conquests? I’m thinking of King Richard (ahem, mainly because of Robin Hood stories!) and Alexander the Great here, because my history is rubbish!
Me
Finally there’s fighting, although most of it is off-stage, which is just fine by me. Instead the reader is privy to intelligence as it comes in, and to the after-effects of the fighting: the death, and the injuries, and the bits that often seem to get ignored. And finally someone – Polgara, as it happens – voices what often annoys and saddens me about medieval battles, because it just seems so pointless: setting everything on fire. (Obviously I hate the killing and maiming too, but at least if you insist on fighting those things seem to have a point.) There’s a seriously awesome sorcerous battle at the same time as the fight between the West and the East (since that’s what it comes down to, OH THE SYMBOLISM), lots more fighting – some exquisite set-pieces that reveal rather interesting facets of character, and then OH LOOK how convenient Ce’Nedra, Polgara, and Durnik get kidnapped. SO CONVENIENT. But hey, this way we get to meet ’Zakath, and I love ’Zakath. So urbane, so crazy-violent-mad.
TEHANI
Oh yeah, ’Zakath is awesome! I have so many favourite characters in these books J Am so pleased we get so much ’Zakath in the second series.
Me
Finally, the end genuinely approacheth. We meet Zedar at LAST, and Garion comes face to face with the once-impossibly beautiful god Torak. And then Durnik dies. Quiet Durnik, consistently useful, shrewdly insightful, over-awed by his companions and totally in love with Polgara: he dies. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve forgotten the name that a couple of people have given him over the course of 4.75 books, and it is just heartbreaking. Of course, then Belgarath does something impossibly horrible to Zedar, and the bloodthirsty wench that I am is as pleased as all get out that he gets his come-uppance.
TEHANI
I REMEMBERED what all those people had named Durnik and I STILL teared up! It’s a great scene, terribly sad because of Polgara and Garion’s reactions I think – Durnik’s such a stable part of Garion’s life (one of the very few, if not the ONLY, fixed point for him!), that this hits him right at the core. And poor Polgara.
Me
And finally, finally, Garion and Torak meet. If I was disappointed by Belgarath vs Ctuchik, and Belgarath vs Zedar seemed totally one-sided, this particular battle is quite a good one. I especially like that it really started with Torak trying to win Garion over, promising to be his father; and then he once again tries to seduce Polgara (EW), but of course it all comes back down to violence. It is pathetic, in the true sense of the word, that all Torak wants (it seems) is love and acceptance – but he can’t go about getting it in the normal way. Eddings does really interesting things with his gods, I think, and making Torak so very tortured allows the possibility that he’s not as completely irredeemable as the rest of the books would suggest. But, of course, he’s still the bad guy, and as a result he dies.
TEHANI
Reading this again, I really felt sorry for Torak. And while I know that he’s not even portrayed all that well in the prequels, it gives you one of those, “Oh, if only someone had helped him see the light when he was young…” moments! Silly, I know, but that’s the reaction I had this time around!
Me
It’s a cataclysmic finale, and in some ways anything after it is always going to be a let-down. But, just like I love the end of The Lord of the Rings because it shows everything going back to normal, I do quite like the end of this book, and the series. Most importantly, of course, we are reminded that Durnik is The Man with Two Lives, and it’s all okay in the end. He and Polgara get together (at LAST), and – skipping right to the end – she doesn’t even have to give up her magic. I was pretty unimpressed that the gods would make her do that, originally; now I actually find it kind of funny, to imagine Polgara going through those weeks and months without trying magic, only to discover it was there all along. Is that mean of me? I have always wondered, though: if you can hear a fellow sorcerer doing magic, why hadn’t Garion or Polgara heard Durnik practising? Surely his first few attempts would have sounded like all the bells on the island.
TEHANI
Maybe Belgarath muffled the sound – or mucked about with his own noisiness while Durnik was practising, or, or … heh, maybe we just have to accept this part as one of those little mistakes we find when we revisit our darlings. I always thought it was funny though – her reaction when she finds out she’s been all selfless for no reason is actually rather restrained really!
Me
Garion and Ce’Nedra get married. Yeah yeah. Like that wasn’t always going to be perfect.
And, of course, there’s teasing hint from Polgara that maybe the story isn’t finished yet – that the Mrin Codex doesn’t finish with Garion’s battle, so maybe there’s still something left to do. OH REALLY?? How convenient! An opening for a further series of books!
TEHANI
Such a cynical thought! But for all its faults, and the Mallorean has definite faults (the main one, for me, being that it’s actually the entire plot of the Belgariad retold with some different characters!), I’m really glad we got the second series, because I love all these characters! I think that’s why the reread, despite the issues we’ve talked about as we’ve gone along (hey, the Suck Fairy http://www.tor.com/blogs/2010/09/the-suck-fairy came to visit in the years since we read it last!), was so easy to do – we love the characters, and they still deliver on their awesome.
Me
All up, I was pleased at having done this re-read. I still enjoyed the characters that I enjoyed the first two times around – especially Polgara and Silk – although their mannerisms did get a little tiresome after a while. There’s only so many times Silk can turn white at Relg going through stone, and say exactly the same thing each time. I was certainly more aware of the problems inherent in this story than I was originally, especially in the men vs women stakes – and so often they did seem to be a confrontation. That Ce’Nedra would threaten tears at Garion so frequently was quite off-putting, but then – she is only sixteen, so perhaps allowances can be made. Although not many. Actually, I was struck this time by just how many strong women there actually are, and strong in different ways: Polgara, Porenn the Drasnian queen, Vella, the Dryad queen, Vordai in the swamp, Barak’s wife Merel … it’s actually quite a good list.
A number of people have tried to convince me that re-reading The Mallorean is A Very Bad Idea. I’m not convinced. I won’t be doing it immediately, but perhaps in the medium-term future….
TEHANI
Oh, I reckon we go visit Sparhawk first!
This reread has been great fun – it’s been ages since I’ve gone back to any old favourites (simply too many new books to read to go back to the oldies, although the old darlings still get pride of place on my bookshelves!), so I was glad to have to make time to get through these again. It’s such a comfort read, but it also helps me to see where I’m at with my reading now, and examine my baseline for my current favourites, which is interesting in itself! Maybe I’ll put some Anne McCaffrey or Raymond Feist back on my To Be Read shelf and see if the experience is the same!
Tor double
Twelfth Planet Press has started doing some novella doubles, which I really like. It’s a clever idea, not least since the idea of just buying a novella – or a novelette – sometimes feels like a bit of a waste of time, depending on how much it is and who the author is. But with two novella, back to back, you feel like you’re getting a better deal.
TPP is not original in this idea, of course, and does not claim to be. Ace Books did doubles years ago and, I discovered recently, so did Tor. I discovered this because, in browsing Better World Books I found a double of Joanna Russ (whose work I’ve been meaning to read more of) with James Tiptree Jr (ditto)! How awesome is that! And, of course, the idea of the great feminist critic and author matched with Tiptree, the revelation of whom as Alice Sheldon totally rocked the sf world and who is now remembered through an award honouring gender exploration and disruption – well, it’s just perfect. It would only have been made more awesome if the double had been published before Tiptree was revealed as Sheldon, but alas that was not the case.
Tiptree’s story is “Houston, Houston, Do You Read?” (glaringly announced as a Hugo and Nebula Award Winner on the front). I could tell you what story it really reminded me of, but then I’d totally spoil it for you. At any rate, three astronauts are on a solar mission and when they come back around to the Earth side, things are… different. Houston doesn’t answer, but someone else does. This story does what my favourite stories do: with an awesome sf story, its focus is on the people – their reactions, their attitudes, their problems. The astronauts are appropriately different from one another such that a range of reactions can be explored, but they don’t feel like ciphers; Tiptree deftly sets them up as individuals. I believe this story first came out when Tiptree’s true identity was unknown; all I can say is, Seriously? Did people think that he was an awesome feminist man? Or did they just not see the feminism?
Russ’ story is totally different. Called “Souls” (and glaringly announced as a Hugo Winner), I was quite dubious about it, reading the cover quote: “The Vikings thought the pickings would be easy – but the Abbess was more than she seemed!” Urgh; tacky. Anyway, I was interested to see where Russ could take a medieval-ish story, and hey – I’m a bit of sucker for Vikings stories, usually to see how bad they are. This one is told from the point of view of a young boy who follows the Abbess, Radegunde around, and who is consequently on hand when a bunch of Vikings come marauding. I had hoped that the story was going to be set on Lindisfarne, having been there last year, but it wasn’t identified as such. Again, I shan’t give away any of the story; suffice it to say that it was definitely worth reading. Again, it’s a fascinating study of humanity, and the variety of reactions that people can have in difficult situations. For me, one of the really interesting aspects was the religion. I’m guessing Russ is an atheist, and she said some things that made me a trifle uncomfortable, but said some really insightful things at the same time – about Christianity in general, and about its status in the historical context. (I also really, really liked that the narrator was hoping that the Vikings would have horns on their helmets, and then notes that Vikings never actually did that.)
This double? Totally worth it. And there a number of others listed in the cover… I wonder how book stores categorise these: under which author?
Galactic Suburbia turns 17
You can download us from iTunes, or go to Galactic Suburbia to get it from our website.
In which we talk about awesome women, excellent short stories, and make Alisa throw away a book! Our pet topic is film-to-book, book-to-film and why you’d want to move a story from format to format.
News
The Winners of the British Fantasy Awards 2010 announced.
FemSpec: announcement of new feminist press (via Aqueduct Press).
365 Days of Women Writers blog.
New podcast: Helen Merrick and Tama Leaver do Pangalactic Interwebs.
Tansy: Diana Comet, Zombies v. Unicorns
Pet Subject
Please send feedback to galacticsuburbia@gmail.com!
Lots of Ce’Nedra, and a few other people: the Belgariad, book 4
See Tehani’s post for the comments she gets!
Castle of Wizardry: Book 4 of the Belgariad
David Eddings
Spppooooillllers!!
Me
This may have the dumbest title in the whole series. I don’t anyone ever calls Belgarath a wizard. And what exactly is meant to be the castle – the stronghold at Riva? That’s just ridiculous. I choose to believe that some editorial knob decided that it was the sort of title that would appeal to the BFF fans, and ignored the fact that it doesn’t represent the storyline at all.
The big OMG REVELATION of this book is that OMG REVELATION Garion is actually Riva’s descendent and therefore the rightful Rivan King!!! And most importantly that means OMG REVELATION that he has to marry Ce’Nedra!!!! And most importantly to her, scullery-boy Garion now outranks her!!!!! Oh, the drahmah.
Heh. I don’t remember whether this really was a revelation to my 13- or 14-year-old mind. I’d like to hope not, but even today I try to cultivate something of a ‘don’t anticipate the storyline’ attitude: I like being surprised, so if I can help it – especially if I think it will spoil the book or movie – I try not to figure things out in advance. Of course, sometimes I can’t help it, and sometimes it’s more fun being smug that you had it figured out waaay in advance.
TEHANI
I didn’t read this til I was at least 19 or 20, so yeah, totally knew all the big “surprises” WAAAAY before they were revealed! But I’m the opposite of Alex – I love figuring out stuff in advance. It’s kind of like when people tell you stuff that’s embargoed and you get to feel all smug that you know something other people don’t. Well, kind of the same, cos, yanno, there’s all those OTHER people who figured it out first. Or read the book before you. And the author… Well, it makes ME feel good anyway!
Me
So, yes. Garion discovers that he is rightfully a king. All of that whinging and feeling sorry for himself ought to stop now … although of course it doesn’t. I actually really like the revelatory scene itself, with Garion still uncomprehending and Errand finally completing his errand, and everyone excited – and Ce’Nedra devastated. Eddings never mentions it, but I always imagined her as having read too many Arendian romances and really quite enjoying the pathos of “oh I love him but we can never be together.” And then, all of a sudden, she gets what she wants … but not how she wants it.
TEHANI
It’s true! It’s like a Shakespearian tragedy as far as Ce’Nedra’s concerned, but then all of a sudden she’s told she CAN have what she wants, and that kind of takes lal the fun out of it! She does do very well with coming to terms with it – and turning it to her advantage. Definitely a product of her upbringing there…
Me
I love Errand, the little boy who managed to steal the Orb. I love the fact that he makes everyone wet their pants by offering the Orb to them out of the blue. The idea of a genuine innocent is of course a fascinating one, particularly when you think about the fact that Errand was brought up by a man who had sold his soul to a malignant god rather than the pure one he’d originally served. You’d think that would make Zedar incapable of not corrupting the boy. And what about the circumstances in which he grew up? Are we to assume that Zedar cared for him so well that he never misbehaved to get more attention? – or does that behaviour not count? Of course, we find out in the next series that Eddings is a cheat, when it comes to Errand, but still; interesting questions.
TEHANI
I wondered the same thing when I reread – between Ctuchik and Zedar, surely he’d HAVE to be exposed to some corruption. Although was it mentioned at some point how confining and challenging it was for Ctuchik to contain himself from his usual debauches? Regardless, there is the “cheat” aspect revealed in the Mallorean, and, well, Errand is just so CUTE!
Me
One of the tangents of the gang turning up at Riva is Garion’s reunion with Lelldorin, now sort-of married to a Mimbrate woman, whom he would formerly have sworn off as an enemy. What I love about their little story is that it has all the elements of a classic medieval romance … and it’s just so ridiculous. Eddings plays it with a straight face, but it just gets more and more insane, until it’s quite obvious that he’s totally gaming the reader. I love it.
TEHANI
All the relationships in these books are fun though – there’s always something that sets them apart from the norm just a little, and the couples all have their little quirks. One thing that bothers me, and I think you’ve mentioned it before, Alex, is the way the women all seem to have some little (or big!) manipulative tricks that make it seem like they are always the ones controlling the relationship. Ariana does it to Lelldorin, Ce’Nedra does it to Garion (and her father), Polgara does it to Belgarath (and everyone), Taiba does it to Relg, the Queens do it to their husbands, and so on and so forth. Which is a bit sad, because while it’s intended (I guess) to show how women are just as able to control their lives as men, despite outward appearances, what mostly comes across is that women have to be scheming and deceitful to get what they want…
Me
Getting back to Ce’Nedra, I really really like her part in the last quarter or so of this book. Garion, Belgarath and Silk are off on another journey, but Ce’Nedra womans up and organises a great big damn army to distract the Angaraks away from his and his vital mission. I love her armour, and that she makes the armourer give it bigger boobs than he had originally forged. I love that she gets so nervous before giving speeches that she feels sick. I love the dramatic speeches, the Churchill-esque eloquence, and then – the cold-hearted, calculated, bitchy climax – the way she manipulates both her father and the Tolnedran legions is absolutely, totally, gold. Although, seriously? All of that at barely sixteen years old?
TEHANI
Hey, we just had an Aussie girl sail around the world on her own at 16… Certainly I can see Ce’Nedra succeeding in this with the backing of the Kings and Polgara, and when you consider she was raised as the daughter of an emperor, it makes sense that she has the statesmanship to come up with the idea and have the nous to pull it off. This is my favourite Ce’Nedra of all the books I think – she’s really shown off to great effect in this section!
Me
The book as a whole has a different feel from the others, and it’s largely the “breaking of the fellowship” effect. We get to see Belgarath being compassionate towards Vordai, the witch of the fens – but we’re not stuck with the three boys off gallivanting. Instead Polgara and Ce’Nedra have – no, they don’t have. They compose the Tantrum to End All Tantrums, and then get on with actually leading the West, rather than traipsing around. I really, really like that we get more of an insight into the kings and how they relate to one another – I still like Anheg a lot. It’s also quite remarkable because we actually see serfs, if only briefly. While they’ve been occasionally noticed in the background – and, in a smart-alec way, Garion has previously overheard the two serfs whom Ce’Nedra meets – it’s a nice touch that Eddings actually includes a little story about how the serfs end up in her army. Of course, being in the army is actually a horrible, horrible thing, and the main (aristocratic) characters couldn’t usually care at all about the people dying in droves around them. But the fact that Eddings condescends to include this little vignette is nice.
TEHANI
Have to confess, one of my favourite things about big fat fantasy is the multiple viewpoints of characters all living separate lives until they come together, so this book is just up my alley! While it’s been a separation, rather than different storylines, the back and forth between events really works for me!
Me
There is no climax in this novel. It’s a classic middle-of-the-series book, moving all the pieces into place for a resounding finale. Which is fine, if you have the final book to hand.
TEHANI
Which fortunately, we both did! Onwards, to the “end”!
Feminism(s), sf, fandom and the cabal
The Secret Feminist Cabal: A Cultural History of Science Fiction Feminisms
Helen Merrick
Aqueduct Press, 2009
“… what kind of self-respecting cabal would openly advertise its ‘secret’ existence through websites and conventions, identify its members through the wearing of garish temporary tattoos, and fund itself by the sale of home-baked chocolate chip cookies?” (p1)
I did not grow up considering myself a feminist; I have no idea whether my mother would identify as a feminist or not. That said, I grew up in the ’80s with a younger brother and there was never a time at which I felt that I could not do exactly the same things as my brother, if I wanted to, so I know (now) that I benefited from second-wave feminism – and from liberal, caring parents. I was regarded as a feminist by at least some people by the time I was in my late teens (looking at you, high school teachers), probably because I was loud and everyone loves a stereotype. It’s only been over the last decade (my twenties) that I have consciously thought of myself as a feminist. And it’s only been in the last couple of years that I have consciously sought out feminist books, feminist perspectives on historical issues, and really come to grips with the idea that feminism is not a singularity.
All of this is by way of contextualising my reading of The Secret Feminist Cabal, a marvellous book that has challenged the way I think about science fiction, fandom, and feminism. Merrick had me from her Preface, where she describes her journey towards writing the book in ways that resonated deeply with me, from the nerdy adolescent to the discovery of feminism and the dismay that many female acquaintances not only do not share our love of science fiction, they are completely mystified by it. Having only recently discovered the niche community that is sf fandom, the fact that so much of this book is concerned with expressions of feminism within that community – and how they impacted on sf broadly – was the icing on the cake.
Merrick begins by examining the very idea ‘feminist sf’, defining which – much like attempting to define sf by itself – is like the proverbial attempt by blind women at describing an elephant. She approaches it by discussing the multiplicities that are the reality of the genre, which is indicative of the approach she takes in the book overall and an incredible relief for those of us who are sick of being told THIS IS THIS and if you don’t fit, get lost. She also gives some space to justifying the use of literary criticism on science fiction, tackling that persistent and derogatory argument that science fiction doesn’t count as literature. While accepting that sf and popular fiction generally have an ambivalent position, as far as literary critics – including feminists – are concerned, Merrick makes no apology for using their tools. The rest of the introduction lays the groundwork for the book: what feminist fiction is or can be, the potentially problematic nature of feminist genre writing, and the ongoing divide that exists between mainstream criticism and feminist sf criticism. I particularly enjoyed that while Merrick engaged with these issues, at no point does her discussion become a polemic against those who have disagreed. Rather, she situates her investigation within the ‘grand conversation’ of feminist sf, and demonstrates constructive ways in which that can be extended to mainstream criticism – to the advantage of both.
I was forced to stare into space for some minutes when I read the opening to chapter 2. Merrick quotes from a letter written in 1938 wherein an sf reader opines that: “[a] woman’s place is not in anything scientific. Of course the odd female now and then invents something useful in the way that every now and then amongst the millions of black crows a white one is found” (p34). If nothing else, this book has made me grateful for the changes that have occurred over the last century, such that I have never been personally confronted with such a statement. This chapter provides an overview of the ‘invasion’ of women, sex, and feminism into sf, with a fascinating if horrifying look at the arguments of the 1920s and 30s for and against women being allowed into the genre. (She makes the point that of course women were already there, both as authors and readers, and that it’s hugely problematic when those foremothers are written out of history, as happens too often.) The 1960s and 70s saw some changes to the field, and the disputes that attended this period of ‘sexual revolution’ make for fascinating – if, again, horrifying – reading. My favourite section is that on Joanna Russ writing letters and criticism and the way such respected names as Philip K. Dick and Poul Anderson responded to her and her comments. I love the fact that what now generally appears on blogs as a long and convoluted comment-thread then featured in magazines, albeit at the mercy of the editor. This chapter alone is worth its weight in cookies for outlining the milieu in which both male and female sf writers and fans existed for so much of the twentieth century – an invaluable resource for a newbie like myself.
The third chapter takes up one strand mentioned in the second and runs with it: the idea of ‘femmefans’. The fact that female fans were distinguished by a separate moniker goes some way to revealing how they were regarded, at least by some males of the community. It’s almost heartbreaking to read of the letters written to pulps such as Amazing Stories by women who imagine themselves as the only female readers of such stories – another reason I love the future that is blogdom. What I particularly love about this chapter is its uncovering of specific women involved with sf fandom, in many and varied ways. Instead of making generalisations about readers and contributors to zines, Merrick goes out of her way to trace named individuals and outline their experience within the scene. Appropriately, there is a section on Australian women, who seem to be even more hidden from view than their American or British sisters.
The development of specifically feminist criticism of sf is discussed in chapter 4, with a fair amount of space given to Joanna Russ, as one of the progenitrices of formal feminist criticism and the name to which many others felt themselves to be responding. Merrick chronicles the rise of feminist fanzines in the 1970s, and the impact these had on writers and fans, as well as the increasing numbers of feminist anthologies being produced. The chapter moves through to the 1980s and ’90s, noting trends and struggles as feminists of those times attempted to define themselves as well as understand their histories. As with the previous chapter, Merrick provides copious accounts of individuals here, and an extensive reading list of both criticism and fiction.
Bouncing back to fandom, chapter 5 examines the development of feminist fandom concurrent with the development of feminist criticism of chapter 4. Again going for the intensely personal stories to illustrate a broad, diverse narrative, Merrick weaves a story of female fans and their involvement in the fannish community from the 1960s to the 2000s. The feminist fanzines sound like an amazing community to have been involved in. Her discussion of the place of Marion Zimmer Bradley in this community – beginning as a fan, becoming a well-known writer, and causing all sorts of controversy over her (at least early) non-identification as a feminist – is enthralling, and beautifully illustrates the axiom that the personal is always already political. The chapter ends with a discussion of how WisCon (a feminist sf convention) and the Tiptree Awards were established.
The last two chapters of Cabal “examine how recognition of the cultural work of sf feminisms filters out into other critical communities,” and as a consequence have a heavier, more literary-critical, feel, which may make them more opaque to some readers than the first five chapters. Chapter 6 deals with sf feminim’s response to cyberpunk, a 1980s sf movement that some saw as eclipsing or superseding the feminist sf fiction of the 1970s. Merrick connects this with theorist Donna Haraway’s call for feminists to consider the cyborg as a way of considering the fundamental issue of what it means to be human. The movement also connects with a growing sub-genre of cultural studies, that examining techno-science and cyberculture. A feminist take on these issues is an intriguing one, especially in its observation that much cyberpunk is opposed to the material, the body – and how problematic that can be.
Interestingly, Merrick takes her discussion in what feels like quite a different, although still relevant, direction for her last chapter: the connection of feminist sf with science itself, and how feminism is and can be in dialogue with that discipline. She suggests very strongly that sf feminisms can and should play a vital role in dialogues negotiating the interplay of science, nature, and culture, and gives examples of a number of ways in which this has already occurred productively.
Finally, Merrick has a provocative conclusion. She addresses new challenges such as those posed by queer theory and postcolonialism, and where or how feminism might still fit in. Along with a consideration, appropriately enough, of what the Tiptree Award has taught us since its inception, Merrick considers the question of whether the science fiction field is ‘beyond’ questions of gender. She argues that feminism – as long as it remains the challenging and diverse field it has been until now – still has a great deal to offer science fiction writers and readers.
A critical work based in a deep-seated love of the genre, Cabal is a testament to the enduring impact of women, feminism, and fandom on the fractured behemoth that is science fiction. 2010 saw it shortlisted on the Hugo ballot for Best Related Work, and win the fan-voted William Atheling award for best critical work. These are well-deserved honours. I hope coming generations of both writers and fans will make use of the cornucopia of references Merrick has gathered, both to understand the history of the field and because most of them make for wonderful reading.
Godlike Machines
I got to read a review copy of Godlike Machines a while back, and fell totally in love with it. It’s finally, finally, been published, so I get to talk about it!!
I am so in love with Big Dumb Objects. And Small Dumb Objects. And grand, time-spanning, galaxy-sweeping space opera. Godlike Machines was, basically, written for me.
The opening story is “Troika,” by Alastair Reynolds. Told be a cosmonaut to an old woman, Nesha, it details humanity’s reaction to an astonishing object appearing in our solar system – the Matryoshka. Reynolds has delicate character development, gripping plot development, and an all-too-real visualisation of near-future Earth. This story made me sigh with pure pleasure. A novella, it could easily be a full-length novel; in some ways it reminded me of Clarke’s Rama sequence. I have nothing bad to say about the characters, or the narration, or the climax. This one goes straight to the pool room of All Time Favourites.
Stephen Baxter’s “Return to Titan” was perhaps not as infatuation-producing as I have not yet read any of the Xeelee sequence; but it’s still a good yarn, about going to Titan – obviously; the reasons for doing that and the weird things the explorers discover. The characters were intriguing, and not very likable overall.
Cory Doctorow’s “There’s a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow” seemed a bit aimless, after the first two which have such strong, driving, and relentless plots; still the characterisation is a marvel, and some of the ideas are breath-taking.
Having recently read “A Map of the Mines of Barnath,” I was immensely pleased to read “A Glimpse of the Marvelous Structure” by Sean Williams. This one goes up alongside “Troika,” for my money; the characters are drawn sparsely but believably; the plot unfolds gently, relentlessly, and suprisingly; and – and – I just loved it!
How can you make a story about a BDO sad and poignant?? Robert Reed manages it in “Alone,” but I’m still a bit bemused. This is another story going straight to my favourites list… a machine on an enormous ship, alone for enormous swathes of time: would it want to know its provenance? Is it possible to be self-contained to such an extreme, for any sentient? *sigh* it’s just wonderful.
And finally, Greg Egan’s “Hot Rock” is yet another take on what exactly a godlike machine could be. In this case, it’s a planet. Explorers from two different worlds come together to a wandering planet, which – despite having no sun – still manages to be balmy and atmospheric. Once again interacting with aliens is the theme of the day; managing your own prejudices and expectations, and figuring out how to make the best of a situation for everyone involved. In this case, it was the action that pulled me along; the characters are interesting enough, but not quite at the same level as Alone or Reynolds’ cosmonaut.
Basically, this anthology has ruined me for space opera for a while. It will be hard for anyone else to compete.
Galactic Suburbia 16
Galactic Suburbia can be downloaded from iTunes or our blog
In which we have apparently learned the art of conversational restraint! Clocking in at a miraculously tidy 45 minutes, the Galactic Suburbia crew discuss publishing news, a bunch of great new books, and read some feedback.
News
Strange Horizons Fundraising Drive.
Tehani’s post on open short story markets in Australia.
Aqueduct Press now releasing several of their titles as ebooks.
Ticonderoga to publish Year’s Best Australian Fantasy & Horror; editors Liz Gryzb & Talie Helene.
MindMeld best female characters.
Alisa and Tansy on Coode Street podcast.
What have we been reading/listening to?
Alex: Liar, Justine Larbalestier; White Cat, Holly Black;
Tansy: Cryoburn, Lois McMaster Bujold; Kiss Me Deadly, Tricia Telep (ed)
Alisa: Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical; Tomorrow when the War began; new segment (whcih i will start next ep)
Pet Subject
Feedback!
from Jason Fischer & Thoraiya Dyer, plus a shout out to Celia from Worldcon!
Please send feedback to galacticsuburbia@gmail.com or follow @galacticsuburbs on Twitter
Journeying onwards and leaving endings hanging: The Belgariad Book 3
You can find Tehani’s post over here, if you want to see what comments she gets. More spoilers ahead!
Magician’s Gambit: Book 3 of the Belgariad
David Eddings
Me
Ce’Nedra gets to star in this book a bit more than the others, and I’m sure she loved that. Firstly, I think it’s totally awesome that Durnik, of all people, gets to be the one to peg her for being lovelorn over Garion. It’s really a very cute scene, and Ce’Nedra’s dreadful acceptance that she belongs to the Empire and therefore cannot make her own choices in that regard is somewhat heartbreaking. Additionally, of course, it’s immensely amusing for the reader that she keeps refusing to understand who and what Belgarath and Polgara are, and the adventure that she’s got herself involved in. It’s like Eddings is allowing a sceptical reader – a reader who hasn’t been totally suckered by the story yet – someone to identify with.
TEHANI
I hadn’t thought of it that way! But you’re right, Ce’Nedra’s naivety in the ways of the gods does permit a certain scepticism in the reader. I like that we get a view here of Durnik as actually being rather wise in the ways of relationships – he’s always been portrayed as intelligent, but rather backwater and perhaps a bit stodgy, but his observations here offer another side to him, which is rather important later on.
Me
I think you’re right about Durnik. I found myself liking Durnik more and more this time around, partly I guess because I know how it all turns out, but also because I’m finding the ‘normal’ characters a bit more appealing than the exceptional ones, a lot of the time.
There’s a lot of journeying in this book. Firstly, the band has to go through Maragor, perhaps the most sobering of all the lands in this imaginary world. Grolims may butcher people all day every day – but they’re Angaraks, and we have no sympathy for them. Here, although we’ve never met a Marag, we know enough that their slaughter was totally unwarranted: especially with the heavy hint that the Tolnedrans did it for the gold, not to stamp out their ritualistic cannibalism. The concept of a god who weeps eternally is a staggering one.
TEHANI
It’s not a very flattering portrayal of the Tolnedrans, and this is interesting in terms of the rest of the nations. Nyssians are not shown in a very good light, but we as the reader are still able to find them likeable in some way – in fact, all of the other Western nations, while generally “good”, are given faults of some kind (however slight), but we find them quirky rather than not nice. With the extermination of the Marags, Tolnedrans are painted with a completely different brush, which is quite unusual, particularly as one of our main characters is from that background. Or is her Dryad nature what save Ce’Nedra? Or perhaps the message is that she overcomes such an acquisitive heritage?
Me
That’s a very interesting observation. I don’t think the Dryad aspect is emphasised enough – and we don’t know enough about them – for that to be the mitigating factor. So I’d go with the idea that it’s meant to show how much she changes. Huh. Paints her in a much better light, doesn’t it?
Also in this section we finally learn a bit more about Garion’s ‘friend’ – the one in his head – and exactly what this entire adventure is leading up to. I have to say I find the idea of a universe that has a purpose (although no guiding intelligence), and that purpose getting divided because of a little accident, one of the weaker parts of the whole plot. I have no problem with two destinies battling it out; I’m a Christian, I can do dualism. But that there was an accident, which managed to split the purpose? That just seems … silly. Especially if there is no overarching God to take notice of that accident. Anyway – I accept it for the plot-device it is, and continue.
TEHANI
It sometimes seems a bit of a cheat really – I wonder what mistakes Garion would have made if it weren’t for the meddling voice in his head?
Me
I’m sure someone has written that fanfic… or they should, if they haven’t ☺
We get to visit the Vale of Aldur, for the first time: it’s like hearing about someone’s house for ages and finally getting there. Seeing Polgara surrounded by adoring birds humanises her, I think, in a bizarre way. Garion’s attempt to move the rock – by lifting it, so that he ends up almost burying himself in reaction – is hilarious, and I really like that their magic actually does have physical repercussions like that. And have I mentioned yet how much I adore Beldin? I love him. I love his crotchetiness, I wish Eddings had actually written his oaths down, I love his insulting nature and that (we find out eventually) it hides an intellect both enormous and immensely caring. He makes me happy.
From the Vale the troupe heads to Ulgo, with another of the more interesting groups of people in this world, and one that I can’t think of an analogue for. It’s curious, too, that they are less stereotyped than others. Admittedly we meet fewer Ulgos than members of other races, but nonetheless: Relg is a fanatic, but he’s clearly marked out as being different even from most of the other Ulgos in that respect. The trip into Ulgoland is marked by wonderful monsters, and I think Eddings did very well in this area. Flesh-eating horsey-looking critters? Respect, man. And we get to ditch Ce’Nedra for a while, leaving her with the Gorim. Aw, poor man! No, wait: the way he deals with Relg? He can deal with anything.
TEHANI
I’ve always felt like the Ulgos are analogous with Jewish people (and my little Wikipedia link suggests that too!).
Leaving Ce’Nedra behind also lets Garion miss her, I think, which obviously eases him into his feelings a bit more. Not so much in this book, but in the next…
Me
Finally, the adventure leads to Cthol Murgos. Various adventures ensue, and my favourite may be the encounter with Yarblek, if only for the facts that Polgara deals with his Nadrak ways – thinking she might be for sale – with such aplomb, and for the way she tells everyone else to keep their indignation to themselves.
TEHANI
That whole gender thing with the Nadrak people is a really interesting one – on the surface it looks like women are treated in a fairly negative way, but then you see Polgara take control of her situation and you start to wonder about the practice, and it’s eventually revealed (in a later book) that it’s most definitely the women who are in control, despite outward appearances.
Me
You know, I think the Nadraks may be one of my favourite groups of people, for exactly the same reasons that I adore Silk.
During their time in Gar og Nadrak, Relg has to rescue Silk by taking him through rock, and it’s not often you get to see Silk totally and utterly at a loss.
TEHANI
And that going through rock thing bothers Silk for quite some time to come – it REALLY puts him out of sorts! Gets a bit belaboured by the end of it, in fact…
Me
Belaboured is putting it mildly!
Finally, there’s the epic battle between Belgarath and Ctuchik, which is actually not so epic. That is, in concept it is, but Eddings doesn’t draw it out nearly as much as he might have. I’m in two minds about whether I would like to have seen more , or not. And the fact that Ctuchik essentially destroys himself … well. It’s a bit of a cheat, but it does make sense. I guess.
TEHANI
This book is pretty violent overall – lots of random Murgos being killed because they’re in the way of the group. It’s all rather bloodless though, which is probably why I never realised just how brutal the series is in general until this reread – lots of characters killed “off screen” and even those who cop their serve right up front don’t really seem to have an impact. I actually found the way the main bad guys have died to be more bothering, often because of the reaction of Garion and the others to how it happens.
Me
The fact that they are largely callous and coldhearted about it? Yeh, bothered me too.
TEHANI
There were some new (to become ongoing) characters introduced in Magician’s Gambit who bear notice. Yarblek, who Alex already mentioned, comes to be quite pivotal and who I like for his brassness, and Errand, the innocent raised by Ctuchik to steal the Orb. I tried to read the character of Errand with fresh eyes when he’s introduced in this book (which is a bit hard, knowing how his storyline concludes), to look at him as he’s presented, and to view his initial part in the story without consideration of where he ends up. Conclusion? He’s a little cutie! I love his seriousness in his efforts to hand the Orb to random people, and I love that he’s foreshadowed from the beginning to be important later.
Me
I too tried to see Errand with fresh eyes, and in some ways it’s easier this time around: last time I read it, I hadn’t been around young kids for a while! Makes it easier to imagine him as the cutie he’s described as when you’ve got a point of reference.
This book really does feel like the middle of a series, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We know all the main characters; now we get to see them interacting and meeting new people. We know the basic aim of the plot, and indeed the book finishes with the retrieval of the Orb, which for a while appeared to be the main point. But it finishes with Our Heroes in a building that’s crashing down around their ears, and the suggestion that there is yet more to do for this particular adventure to finalise itself. I’m so very glad that I wasn’t reading this series as it was being published, because the ending – everyone heading out of the citadel – is immensely unsatisfying if you can’t immediately go and read the continuation.
Which is, of course, what I did.
TEHANI
Ahem, and so did I. To the exclusion of much else, including these reread notes! Got very distracted by story and forgot to be critical! Will try harder…
Galactic Suburbia 15.3
And finally, we record our Aussiecon4 wrap-up special. Which was partly an excuse to spend more time together, partly a chance to debrief – the good things, a few bad things, just how much we actually like cons… it was great.
Randomly Yours, Alex 