Battle of the Sexes…
in Science Fiction.
I have finally finished reading this, by Justine Larbalestier… pity it wasn’t in time for the podcast on Larbalestier’s work, but oh well.
It’s given me an enormous amount to think about, not least of which the fact that, despite the reality that women are still not yet equal with men in so many facets of life (the recent interweb spat over the very issue of women in SF as a case in point), still things have improved out of sight in less than 50 years. I would guess that no man these days would be given the print-space to vocalise the idea that women are unwanted in SF (unless it was to set him up for target practice); but this is exactly what happened only a few decades ago, in complete seriousness.
It’s also given me a huuuuge list of books to find, starting with the Tiptree Awards winners. I think it might be time for me to start stttrreeetching myself in my SF-reading, get out of the comfort zone every now and then, and that seems like a good way to start. Good thing the lists are online; pity some of them are short stories that might be very hard to find.
Because Larbalestier includes a big section on the contribution of women to fandom, I’ve also got quite a sense of history and community from reading BoTS. Despite having been a reader of SF&F for a significant period of time, I’ve really only been part of the ‘fan community’ as it’s usually known for a very short period of time, and I still often feel uncomfortable there: both because I’m not sure that I belong, and also because sometimes I’m not sure I want to belong (although why, I’m also not sure). Reading about women writing letters to pulps from the moment of their inception, though, is just so damned cool that it makes me excited to be following in that mode – and I feel that the reviewing etc I get into does follow that. So that’s a really great outcome from reading this wonderful book.
(The book came out of Larbalestier’s PhD, so there are some sections that are a bit tech-heavy for those not very comfortable with literary theory. Much of it, though, is very accessible to the intelligent ‘lay’ reader.)
A revelation
So, I had a minor epiphany a while back.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. After all, one of my high school teachers teasingly called me a Femonazi Godbotherer way back in Year 12 (it really was teasing, and not offensive, despite how it sounds). I’ve been a loud feminist for a few years now.
But it was only the other day that I realised, with something of a shock, that humanity’s default position is Male. When people think of Human, even women tend – I think – to imagine Man (I know, stereotype there), and then add/subtract to obtain Woman.
I’m not claiming that this is a new thought. In fact, it’s not even new to me, really, since I’ve read plenty and even written a little about Woman as Other. But I’d never really thought about it in such bald vocabulary before. Woman is different, other, unusual – not normal. Man is normal.
Until society as a whole can get its head around the idea that there are two different, equal, complementary forms of Human, sexism will always exist.
Bit depressing, that.
(And, of course, the default form is also the same colour as the thinker, I would guess.)
And I didn’t even know there was something missing
From my life, that is. Until now.
Now that I am 15 minutes into Barbarella, I realise that there had previously been a gaping hole in my life. No longer! Filled with Jane Fonda, hairy wallpaper, Jane Fonda’s boobs, a lot of plastic and the knowledge that Duran Duran is the name of a character in the movie. Which makes them even more screwy than I previously thought.
Oh, and now there are nasty biting dolls after Our Heroine. Hmm, an excuse to remove more of Jane’s clothing, clearly.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to watch the whole thing, to be honest.
Further consideration of the 32
Yesterday I blogged about this list of 32 recommended SF novels. I mentioned at the time I wasn’t sure how much store to set by the compiler. Last night, as I considered the list further, I realised there are some serious flaws.
Firstly, the things I think are good about the list:
- There were a few books, and some authors, I hadn’t heard of. They might actually be crap, but it’s cool to have new people suggested – and not to have lists dominated by the same old people. Now, perhaps I’m just not entirely up with my SF classics, and these are all people I ‘should’ have heard of – but I don’t, so it works for me.
- It covers a good range of time – from Mary Shelley through Jules Verne and HG Wells, up to Cory Doctorow and Richard Morgan. It’s useful to see the history of SF reflected in a list like this, and presumably shows the compiler has a good understanding of the range of SF over time.
- There’s a variety in types of SF. That is, you’ve got your loony Douglas Adams, the slightly farcical Michael Crichton’s Timeline, through to the more serious, epic-like works such as those of Frank Herbert and Robert Heinlein, as well the cyperpunk of William Gibson. It’s good to see this range reflected, too – because SF is no monolithic structure.
However, there are obviously some problems with the list. Now, this just may reflect the compiler’s reading taste, but it’s still interesting – I hope – to offer a critique.
- Firstly, I’m not sure all of the works mentioned count as SF. Animal Farm, basically. Not convinced.
- By my count, only Lois Lowry and Mary Shelley rate a mention to represent female publishing. What happened to Ursula le Guin, and Left Hand of Darkness? Perhaps the compiler hasn’t read it, but if they claim to be making a somewhat-authoritative list, she’s a fairly glaring omission. Octavia Butler (of whom I’ve only read short stories), Nancy Kress… I could go on. It’s the main thing I’ve got a beef about, actually.
- One, by my count, young-adult book (the Lowry, which again I haven’t read). Now, perhaps again this reflects the compiler’s reading habits – came to SF as an adult? – but there are some truly awesome YA scifi books out there. Madeline l’Engels’ Wrinkle in Time, for starters… and a lot more I won’t bother to list.
- Clarke’s 2001 only rates a little mention at the end??
- There shouldn’t be more than one book by any one author, I think. Fair enough to say “this is representative of the author, see also…” but I think that padding the list with multiple entires from one author is laziness, or the compiler isn’t as well-read as it might seem… or they really wanted it to be 32 books in the list and didn’t think anything else rated.
- Finally, as a list of recommendations, it bugs me a little that it’s got only quotes from Amazon (and Wikipedia). Does this mean the compiler hasn’t actually read them, or doesn’t trust their writing/reviewing skills, or thinks people want something more ‘objective’ than a more personal opinion would seem?
Anyway, those are my thoughts. I will still try to read some of the things of the list, despite my reservations about the list as a whole – because even given those, there are still some books that I know are good and interesting, and this has in some ways simply jogged my memory, as well as giving me some others to consider.
On women being published and such
So a friend of mine started a ginormous interwebs feud the other day, discussing the lack of women being published in speculative fiction. A lot of people responded; some very well, others (mostly men) extremely poorly. There was mud-flinging and name-calling and misrepresentations… all very interesting.
In response, and to get her own thoughts on the subject very clear and mused-through, the wonderful Tansy has linked to the debates and offered a coherent, sustained, and fascinating take on the whole topic. Sans mud-slinging!
Daughters of Earth
I got my copy today from Amazon – hurrah!* So excited. I’ve been looking forward to reading this ever since cassiphone raved at me about it at NatCon in June. It has a very nice cover…. It’s been a while since I read any feminist theory or lit crit, so I’m itching to start. Of course, I have been somewhat remiss with my duties, so I have to get back to that… and send some hard copies out to collaborators, before they lynch me. So it might have to wait until my resolve weakens.
*Don’t know it? It’s edited by Justine Larbalestier, and includes scifi stories written by women throughout the 20th century – from every decade, I think – as well essays about them and their place in the scifi tradition.
The Left Hand of Darkness
I have, of course, heard about this book by Ursula Le Guin – it’s up there as a seminal work, really, of early scifi especially. I think it counts as spec fic more than scifi per se, but that’s a bit beside the point. I bought it last weekend and read it over the week.
I have a friend who is a big scifi fan who read the Wizard of Earthsea series and was incredibly disappointed – actually, I think he only read the first one and didn’t bother with the others. I may have mentioned this before; to me, Le Guin and some of those other early writers are doing line sketches, whereas a lot of the stuff coming out these days is oil colours – whether they’re consciously thinking about it or not, I think they’re heavily movie-influenced, and writing for a grander and more detailed vision than the earlier writers. Now, I’m perfectly ready to be wrong about that, but it sounds good.
The Left Hand of Darkness is named for a poem of the planet Gethen, where it’s set – light is the left hand of darkness, darkness the right hand of light. Very yin and yang, which is what the whole thing is about, really: the natives of Gethen are ambisexual, that is they are neither man nor woman, or perhaps both, for most of the month, and then come into ‘kemmer’ for a few days – their sex is then decided by the others around them who are also coming into kemmer.
This way of looking at gender was really interesting, but I’ve got to say I wasn’t entirely sure what Le Guin was aiming to do. Her narrator for most of the book was male (from off-world), and he referred to all of the Gethenians as ‘he’. The only times they were described as female were almost derogatory or insulting, which I was really surprised and disappointed by. Now, maybe this is because they were a fairly non-aggressive race, so this was a male reaction to pacificism, but still, it was a bit uncomfortable to read.
Nonetheless, I actually did like the story. It was a poignant story, and she certainly doesn’t spare her characters. It hints at a much grander story – of the Ekumen, the not-governing body bringing 83 worlds together… the Hain, who seeded all of those world with humans… but the story itself, on Gethen, is also very personal and immediate. I think I liked it.
Randomly Yours, Alex 