Passive me, aggressive you
Dec. 9th, 2012 01:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The title of this post refers not to the relationship I have with any particular person, but rather the relationship I have, at present, with my PhD.* I got a lot more work done this week, but I am still finding the whole business rather frustrating. It's easier in the early years of research, when you can measure progress by word count. Editing produces a much more ambiguous sense of achievement.
This week, Matthias' sister and her friend D visited us. They were here from Tuesday evening until early Saturday morning. Apart from Thursday, when they spent the day in London, I was in full hostess mode, showing them around Cambridge and helping them with their Christmas shopping. In the evenings, we hung out in various pubs. I like them, and I like having guests in general, but I do always breathe a sigh of relief when they're out the door, as I find the whole thing exhausting.
Other than that, I've had quite a quiet week, which has suited me fine. Term ended a week ago, and the town is cold and empty now all the undergrads have gone home. I like it better this way - more space in the library, room to move in the city centre, longer times for borrowing books and so on. We spent Saturday watching TV and reading, and this morning had a leisurely breakfast while reading the newspaper, which is one of my favourite ways to spend the time.
I'm mostly caught up with TV. Scandal ended, and while I feel mostly positive about the show, it engaged in a particular trope of which I'm not fond.
So, in the series, the main character, Olivia Pope, had an affair with the (married) US President. He appeared to be in a loving relationship with his wife, and the affair was short-lived and caused the two of them a great deal of guilt. However, in the later episodes, it emerges that the President's marriage is entirely loveless, a sham put on for the cameras in order to get him elected, and mainly for the benefit of his wife, who is portrayed as vindictively angry at what she had to give up for his political career and desperate to be First Lady.
This trope is often used in cases where two characters are cheating on their spouses, and it's a massive cop-out. Firstly, we're meant to forgive the cheating spouse's behaviour because his/her partner is a horrible person and their marriage is loveless. Secondly, it denies the possibility that people can be in love more than once in their lives, or with more than one person simultaneously. I, for one, would love to see a story where a person is deeply in love with his/her partner and is shocked and horrified to discover him/herself falling deeply in love with someone else, with all three being honest about their emotions and working out a way to negotiate the situation. Alas, the only person who attempted it was Stephenie Meyer.
I'm almost finished with Marina Warner, which is good, as I'm flying to Australia on Friday and have a couple of books lined up for the flight, The Seven Wonders by Steven Saylor, which is a prequel to his Roma Sub Rosa series of detective novels, and Sarah Rees Brennan's latest, Unspoken. I can't wait!
You should all read Foz Meadows' post on default narrative settings and the futility of arguing 'historical accuracy' in the face of accusations of the absence of narrative diversity. Her post also doubles as an excellent resource, with links that can be pulled out every time someone says that it's 'historically inaccurate' to have a fantasy novel about, say, a black, female pirate captain.
[W]hat on Earth makes you think that the classic SWM default is apolitical? If it can reasonably argued that a character’s gender, race and sexual orientation have political implications, then why should that verdict only apply to characters who differ from both yourself and your expectations? Isn’t the assertion that straight white men are narratively neutral itself a political statement, one which seeks to marginalise as exceptional or abnormal the experiences of every other possible type of person on the planet despite the fact that straight white men are themselves a global minority? And even if a particular character was deliberately written to make a political point, why should that threaten you? Why should it matter that people with different beliefs and backgrounds are using fiction to write inspirational wish-fulfillment characters for themselves, but from whose struggle and empowerment you feel personally estranged? That’s not bad writing, and as we’ve established by now, it’s certainly not bad history – and particularly not when you remember (as so many people seem to forget) that fictional cultures are under no obligation whatsoever to conform to historical mores. It just means that someone has managed to write a successful story that doesn’t consider you to be its primary audience – and if the prospect of not being wholly, overwhelmingly catered to is something you find disturbing, threatening, wrong? Then yeah: I’m going to call you a bigot, and I probably won’t be wrong.
I feel inadequate following up this link with one to my own blog, but in any case, I read The Lions of Al-Rassan. It broke my heart. And then I reviewed it.
The theme of this week is resistance. Not just the classic 'to the barricades!' active, violent resistance, but all the tiny, powerful ways people confront the things that dispossess them. The resistance that is knowing when something is deeply wrong, and articulating why that is, even if you're unable to change your circumstances. And with that in mind, the song of this week is 'All of This' by The Naked and Famous.
_________________
*I'll leave you to work out for yourselves which one of us is the passive partner.
This week, Matthias' sister and her friend D visited us. They were here from Tuesday evening until early Saturday morning. Apart from Thursday, when they spent the day in London, I was in full hostess mode, showing them around Cambridge and helping them with their Christmas shopping. In the evenings, we hung out in various pubs. I like them, and I like having guests in general, but I do always breathe a sigh of relief when they're out the door, as I find the whole thing exhausting.
Other than that, I've had quite a quiet week, which has suited me fine. Term ended a week ago, and the town is cold and empty now all the undergrads have gone home. I like it better this way - more space in the library, room to move in the city centre, longer times for borrowing books and so on. We spent Saturday watching TV and reading, and this morning had a leisurely breakfast while reading the newspaper, which is one of my favourite ways to spend the time.
I'm mostly caught up with TV. Scandal ended, and while I feel mostly positive about the show, it engaged in a particular trope of which I'm not fond.
So, in the series, the main character, Olivia Pope, had an affair with the (married) US President. He appeared to be in a loving relationship with his wife, and the affair was short-lived and caused the two of them a great deal of guilt. However, in the later episodes, it emerges that the President's marriage is entirely loveless, a sham put on for the cameras in order to get him elected, and mainly for the benefit of his wife, who is portrayed as vindictively angry at what she had to give up for his political career and desperate to be First Lady.
This trope is often used in cases where two characters are cheating on their spouses, and it's a massive cop-out. Firstly, we're meant to forgive the cheating spouse's behaviour because his/her partner is a horrible person and their marriage is loveless. Secondly, it denies the possibility that people can be in love more than once in their lives, or with more than one person simultaneously. I, for one, would love to see a story where a person is deeply in love with his/her partner and is shocked and horrified to discover him/herself falling deeply in love with someone else, with all three being honest about their emotions and working out a way to negotiate the situation. Alas, the only person who attempted it was Stephenie Meyer.
I'm almost finished with Marina Warner, which is good, as I'm flying to Australia on Friday and have a couple of books lined up for the flight, The Seven Wonders by Steven Saylor, which is a prequel to his Roma Sub Rosa series of detective novels, and Sarah Rees Brennan's latest, Unspoken. I can't wait!
You should all read Foz Meadows' post on default narrative settings and the futility of arguing 'historical accuracy' in the face of accusations of the absence of narrative diversity. Her post also doubles as an excellent resource, with links that can be pulled out every time someone says that it's 'historically inaccurate' to have a fantasy novel about, say, a black, female pirate captain.
[W]hat on Earth makes you think that the classic SWM default is apolitical? If it can reasonably argued that a character’s gender, race and sexual orientation have political implications, then why should that verdict only apply to characters who differ from both yourself and your expectations? Isn’t the assertion that straight white men are narratively neutral itself a political statement, one which seeks to marginalise as exceptional or abnormal the experiences of every other possible type of person on the planet despite the fact that straight white men are themselves a global minority? And even if a particular character was deliberately written to make a political point, why should that threaten you? Why should it matter that people with different beliefs and backgrounds are using fiction to write inspirational wish-fulfillment characters for themselves, but from whose struggle and empowerment you feel personally estranged? That’s not bad writing, and as we’ve established by now, it’s certainly not bad history – and particularly not when you remember (as so many people seem to forget) that fictional cultures are under no obligation whatsoever to conform to historical mores. It just means that someone has managed to write a successful story that doesn’t consider you to be its primary audience – and if the prospect of not being wholly, overwhelmingly catered to is something you find disturbing, threatening, wrong? Then yeah: I’m going to call you a bigot, and I probably won’t be wrong.
I feel inadequate following up this link with one to my own blog, but in any case, I read The Lions of Al-Rassan. It broke my heart. And then I reviewed it.
The theme of this week is resistance. Not just the classic 'to the barricades!' active, violent resistance, but all the tiny, powerful ways people confront the things that dispossess them. The resistance that is knowing when something is deeply wrong, and articulating why that is, even if you're unable to change your circumstances. And with that in mind, the song of this week is 'All of This' by The Naked and Famous.
_________________
*I'll leave you to work out for yourselves which one of us is the passive partner.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-10 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-10 08:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-10 03:09 pm (UTC)But yeah, the trope-yness was just getting to me D: I see they are just dragging down Olivas character. She can't be baddass because the president has so much control over her woman feelings!!! Or something. It just kicks me D: And I think it could have been so damn good if they just had her tell Mr. Prez to fuck off, for good.
I didn't know you watched Scandal!
Date: 2012-12-10 03:53 am (UTC)Hope your relationship with your doctoral work improves or gets the rest it might benefit from as the holidays draw near. <3
no subject
Date: 2012-12-10 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-12 03:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-12 11:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-13 05:19 am (UTC)Let me know when you know your Canada dates.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-13 09:48 am (UTC)It depends on if my paper is accepted, but it shouldn't be a problem, so hopefully we'll be drinking coffee in Toronto in the spring!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-13 05:18 am (UTC)I've failed at xmas again, but I'll send you one ~spontaneously the next time I see a card that looks at me and insists, "you must send me to Ronni."