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13 reasons this book made me homicidal: a review of Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Posted by Katje on January 19, 2012

Cover of "Thirteen Reasons Why"

Cover of Thirteen Reasons Why

I picked up Thirteen Reasons Why recently because it was on my list of “to read” and it had received much critical acclaim. Also it was one of two books I’d brought with me while traveling (not including the two I read on mom’s Kindle). I figured it might be okay, at least.

Allow me to give you 13 reasons I dislike it. And by “dislike”, I mean “hate psychotically.”

[TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE AND ASSAULT]

[SPOILERS]

  1. Support of the “Well, she didn’t technically say ‘no’ so it’s not technically rape, right?” trope. The character who gets raped [I'm talking about Hannah; the other character who gets raped is tossed aside like a piece of garbage, her views never explored] is herself unsure if it was rape or no, which is very common because we all get taught that we’re dirty and naughty unless we shout no! in a loud voice — but we’re trained from an early age to never say no, because then the menfolk might get violent. That’s not what I have issue with; I have issue with the book itself seeming unsure regarding the conclusion. If the character who’d been raped could not unequivocally call it that, then another character who knew about it (there were three) should have been clear. Without that clarity it seems the author is saying he agrees that it’s “grey-area rape”. Anything short of enthusiastic consent is rape. Not saying no does not equal consent. The fact that the character was crying and clenching her teeth just to get through it should have alerted the others who knew about the situation that it was rape. Instead, we get vague hand-waving of “well maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” and this is wholly irresponsible of the author and holds up standards of misogyny and rape culture.
  2. The structure of the book is highly manipulative. The reader is lead on a very deliberate route, leaving no leeway for interpretation. Asher has a conclusion that he wants you to reach and he makes sure you reach it. This leaves you feeling used and abused once the book is done.
  3. Horrible characterization: there is no sympathy for Hannah Baker. She’s badly written. Hannah is portrayed as cold, calculating, selfish and childish. Suicidal people get portrayed as selfish all the time, so this is an old, tired, trope. Instead, you feel sympathy for Clay Jensen, who is a basically good guy [even thought he's been raised steeped in patriarchal rape culture but that's not really his fault and despite it he seems to turn out okay, at least] who is in love with Hannah. He had no idea how deeply disturbed she was, and feels she didn’t really give him a chance to help her. The added blow of giving him the tapes will give him guilt and anger towards her, which is unfair and childish: suicidal people usually don’t plan big manipulation games like this. We’re too lost in our own pain to even fucking care about how our deaths are going to affect others — and no, that’s not being selfish, that’s called having bodily autonomy. Also, if you can’t understand what it’s like to just want to die because you’re in so much pain, shut the fuck up about suicidal people being selfish. You have no idea.
    The attitude of Hannah, the whole “I’ll just kill myself and THEN won’t they be sorry!” makes her look like a spoiled child, and not someone who’s truly in a lot of pain.
  4. Following #3: White Whine. I mean, fuck, I’m not trying to belittle her problems, but Hannah is so badly written that all of her pain seems like so much white whine. I had things way worse, way earlier in life, and I know I had it good compared to other peoples’ lives. I tried to kill myself several times, but it was never to hurt others. It was to end my own pain.
    And when I finally did find something good, something worth holding on to that eased the pain, I didn’t scream and freak out and push it away because, you know, shit had happened before and somehow having my original fantasies about love and romance ruined made it impossible for me to accept someone who actually loved me. What the fuck, Hannah?
    Like, shit, kid, I get it, life in high school sucks, but yours could have been a lot worse, Miss Heterosexual White Cisgendered Middle-Class girl.
  5. Mansplaining. It’s a story about misogyny and rape culture and how it manifests in high school, driving young girls to kill themselves. But it’s told through the eyes of a male character who’s listening to Hannah’s tapes by a male author who couldn’t write women characters effectively if it were beaten into him. For further remark, see #6.
  6. The only reason this book received so much acclaim is because finally a white man is saying what marginalized folk have been saying for much longer. HAY GUISE, DID YOU KNOW? RAPE CULTURE. MISOGYNY. THEY EXIST. AND GIRLS ARE KILLING THEMSELVES BECAUSE OF IT.
    Oh, thank the Goddesses! A white man finally noticed that we’re being raped and brutalized left right and center! Let’s watch him do a terrible job writing about it. Mansplaining: not just for trolls anymore!
    I can tell you right now that if anyone other than a white man had written this book it would not have received half the acclaim it has. People do not believe things until white men say it’s the truth. I say I was raped twice, and I am questioned unless a white man corroborates my story. I say misogyny is everywhere, and I’m a hysterical feminist “looking to get angry about something” unless a white man says he sees it too. People of color, indigenous people, transgendered people, disabled and/or neuroatypical people, and queer folk have been saying for years that the police are corrupt and that police brutality is a matter of course in their daily lives. No one listens until Occupy happens, when suddenly white men are being treated this way too.
    So, yeah. Asher had a chance to actually bring to light a serious issue, and he did it horribly. With friends like these….
  7. Dual narratives is confusing, dizzying, and manipulative. It is falsely compelling: the intense structure made you feel as if the book was compelling, but the characterization was so bad that by the end of the book I wanted Hannah and everyone else in her small town to die.
  8. The message is Anvillicious. Anvils everywhere. Falling from the sky. Especially as the result of Hannah’s probably-false suicide and tapes is to force Clay to insert himself into Skye’s life, regardless her wishes, because may be suicidal. (See #9 for elaboration.)
    We should all care enough about our fellow human to ease their pain, even if just for a while. That does not mean we should see it as our personal crusade to save people from suicide. We need to respect bodily autonomy. Bodily autonomy includes the right to choose how you will die, if possible.
    We need to stop phrasing it as “Be nice. You never know who may be considering SUICIDE,” and start phrasing it as “Be kind, because we all deserve compassion and unconditional love.”
    Also: listen to people when they say they’ve been raped or assaulted. Believe them. Realize what that means. (Ie, YES MEANS YES.) Stop the bros before hos policy that protects rapists like Bryce Walker. The “jokes” of the Who’s Hot/Who’s Not list, or Justin’s rumors about Hannah letting people think they own her — they all support rape culture.
    And Asher’s portrayal of Hannah as completely unsympathetic with Clay being the protagonist voicing the “boys will be boys” sentiment and even a “you knew what you were getting into” trope enforces the idea that it’s “not a big deal”.
    Irresponsible. Completely irresponsible.
  9. White knight syndrome. Wow, really loving your portrayal of every single woman in the school needing a big strong man to save them. SO FUCKING ORIGINAL.
  10. Hannah faked her own death. Or didn’t succeed and was too embarrassed to show her face at school afterwards. She planned enough to record the blame-game tapes, but not enough to figure out exactly how she would kill herself or to have a back-up plan if the first time didn’t work — when she intended to do it the next day. With perfect timing, as Tony saw her in 3rd period and she was “dead” by mid-afternoon.
    Then she had no funeral and her parents left town.
    I think she faked her own death. And sent those tapes around to prove a point. Through manipulation.
    Making her…a horrible human being.
  11. Her treatment of Mr. Porter. Look, Hannah, if you want to exercise your bodily autonomy, off yourself, fine. But don’t bring down Mr. Porter with you, whose only crime was not being able to decipher your totally cryptic replies. The man tried, for fuck’s sake! You gave him nothing. And then you create these tapes wherein you lay most, if not all, of the blame at his feet for not being able to help you.
    Hannah showed more compassion for her rapist, her assaulters, than she did to poor Mr. Porter. Mr. Porter was already close to suicide when he realized that he’d failed to help his student. How much do you want to bet her tapes send him over the edge?
    How is that, in any sense, a simple expression of bodily autonomy?
    Especially when it’s doubtful she killed herself at all.
  12. No clear character motivation beyond “I’m an emo white girl who can’t get perspective waaaaaah”. I mean, her torments were real, if somewhat tame to my old, cynical eyes, yet her reaction to Clay kissing her was completely ridiculous, lacking in clear motivation. Is she supposed to be a strong female character? Is she supposed to be a role model?
    Gods, I hope not. She’s worse than Bella Swan.
  13. On page 9, Hannah’s recorded voice instructs her listeners to listen to all the tapes and then rewind them when they’re done before mailing them off. When she doesn’t even know how tapes work why should I trust that she figured out how to effectively kill herself?

On the plus side, the spelling, grammar, and punctuation were good.

However, I can’t recommend this book to anyone. It was horrible, and there are much better ways to get the same message. Actually, I could be wrong, as I’m not even sure what the message IS. The anvil hit me so hard I have a concussion.

Final verdict: waste of a tree’s life. If you must subject yourself to this mound of tripe, buy the ebook or go to the library.

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30 in 30: Day 29 (in which I talk about Harry Potter some more, but don’t worry I SWEAR it’s the LAST time…for NOW.)

Posted by Katje on August 16, 2011

Teenage Severus Snape (Alec Hopkins) in Harry ...

Image via Wikipedia

Saddest character death OR best/most satisfying character death (or both!)

I realise I’ve been talking a lot about Harry Potter in the past few weeks, but you’ll have to bear with me as I do so again with this particular topic. Warning, thar be spoilers ahead. (Major fucking spoilers for the last book/movie, so if you haven’t read or seen it by now DO NOT READ THIS POST.)

The Harry Potter series is full of character deaths. Perhaps not so many as other fantasy series, but a fair whack. They’re all written well enough to bring at least a tear to the reader’s eye — who didn’t choke a bit at Cedric Diggory’s death (especially in the film, with Amos screaming in anguish “That’s my boy!”), or sob like crazy when Sirius went beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries? These characters were unequivocally seen as good guys, so their deaths hurt.

Not as much, however, as Snape’s death in the final book.

Many of you didn’t trust Snape after the ending of Half-Blood Prince, which I suppose is understandable — myself, I always trusted him, and knew the reasons behind his actions would be revealed and he would be good at heart. I was pleased to see myself vindicated, even as I cried out every drop of moisture my body possessed.

In Snape’s final moments, he gives Harry all his memories, and in a single chapter JK Rowling tells a devastating love story: that of Snape’s hopeless passion for Lily, how every action on his part was to protect her only child. She shows Snape’s pain in following Dumbledore’s orders to the very last — to have to kill the only man who had granted him his trust, his only real friend. And his refusal to accept that Harry Potter’s fate is to die — that they’ve been raising the child like a pig for slaughter, that soon all that remains of Lily in the world will be snuffed out, extinguished like a candle not allowed to burn out its full life.

Had Snape not been bitten by Nagini, had he not died giving Harry his memories, we never would have known all this. He never would have been vindicated. Harry would never know the truth — that Snape had grown fond of him, had grown to view him like the son he never had.

And so it is that Snape’s death is not only the saddest I can think of, but also the most satisfying — it’s only in death that he is redeemed, only in death do we see the true Severus.

And only in death do we get that ridiculous fucking name for Harry’s kid.

This is what makes Severus’ death so truly poignant and heartbreaking. It is not until all sides of the story are known that we can see true goodness, brought about by nearly impossible choices.

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30 in 30: Day 15 (in which I am fairly whimsical about the Rootabaga Country)

Posted by Katje on August 2, 2011

Cover of 1922 edition of Rootabaga Stories, by...

Image via Wikipedia

Your “comfort” book

Rootabaga Stories by Carl Sandberg.

I first read this book when I was fairly young. The stories ‘were born of Sandburg’s desire for “American fairy tales” to match American childhood. He felt that the European stories involving royalty and knights were inappropriate, and so set his stories in a fictionalized American Midwest called “the Rootabaga country” filled with farms, trains, and corn fairies.’ [1]

Alongside the traditional fairy tales brought over to North America from Europe, I grew up in Canada reading Rootabaga Stories, and they spoke to me much more strongly than the Brothers Grimm. There was a sense of adventure alongside a definite level of ridiculousness in the stories; they were crazy enough that you could believe they were true.

You get to the Rootabaga Country by train, and I’m sure it’s this book that created my childhood love of trains (that, and travelling by train from Vancouver to LA and across to Albuquerque and back again in an awesome trip that involved Disney Land and Universal Studios).

There’s something very reassuring about the idea that you can get to a mythical land if you just go far enough in a train, or on a bike, or by bus.  The idea that escape is always an option, if life gets too bad.

That is why we read fiction, after all. To escape into another world, if only for a few hours. I’ve spent my life finding new ways to escape every situation — so is it any wonder the books that bring me comfort are the ones where that fantastic land is just around the corner, and I’ll see it if I just squint my eyes the right way?

Time and time again I pick up this book and read through it, and find myself content in the knowledge that if it is so far, so early, and so soon, that I can get a long slick yellow leather slab ticket with a blue spanch across it and I will ride where the railroad tracks run off into the sky and never come back. [2]

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Graduation from Hogwarts: the end of Harry Potter and my adolescence

Posted by Katje on August 1, 2011

Unless you live under a rock, you’re aware that the final Harry Potter film was recently released. If you know any fans of the series (statistically speaking, you probably do), you have somewhat of an inkling just how big a fucking deal this is.

For me, Harry Potter ending represents the ending of my childhood. Sure, I didn’t like the movies when they first came out (for many reasons that deserve their own blog post, really), but after the books ended the movies became the last thing to look forward to. Now, the final film has released, and its leaving theatres at the end of summer signals the imminent end to my adolescence.

Ok, ok, I’m almost 25 and so technically my adolescence ended about 6 years ago. Biologically, at least. Socially and mentally, I’m still a teenager. (Socially because no one really treats you like an adult until after the magical age of 25, and mentally because a) when one is treated like a teenager one tends to remain in that mindset and b) I don’t really want to grow up.) When I started reading Harry Potter, I was a really fucked up teenager. I was floundering, lost in depression and bad choices. One morning Mom woke me up by flinging a book at my head; I opened it up and started reading, and from that moment on my life began to change.

The Golden Trio were characters who were major influences during my formative years (as were the rest of the characters in the series). The Harry Potter series taught me about the power of friendship and its value. It taught me about courage in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. It taught me that it’s ok to be emotional and logical at the same time (Hermione: truly feminist witch). It taught me about strength of heart, and the power of love.

On top of all the lessons the series had to offer me, it also offered me escape – but an escape that I could share with other people, which was far more valuable than an escape only I knew about.

My friends and I were rabid Harry Potter fans. At one point three of us called ourselves the Golden Trio (because we were, really), and a group of my friends in high school and I would run around LARPing on campus as Harry Potter (and Lord of the Rings) characters. (Not true LARP, there were no costumes and we were far from SRS BSNS.) When we didn’t want to think about all the shit that was happening in our lives (and my friends and I went through a lot of shit in our adolescence), we had Hogwarts to escape to.

I used to dream that my letter had gotten lost, and I was truly a student at Hogwarts. Sometimes I still do.

Now, I have to face a future where we’re not waiting for another instalment of the life-changing series (JKR has said that there are “no more books in her” which I have a lot of strong opinions about, but anyway), where everything Harry Potter-related is an expression of nostalgia, not anticipation.

There’s nothing wrong with that, but it does signify the ending of an era of my life – and the lives of many other people. That ending needs to be mourned. Life goes on, but only after we’ve given what is ended its proper dues.

So I graduate from Hogwarts – I can go back, but as alumni, visiting current students. I don’t have much in common with them – I’m now in the adult wizarding world, working (as an Auror, of course), and I cannot recapture that magic of school days.

My one hope is that someday in the future my children will pick up a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, and I can watch the magic begin all over again with a new generation of young wizards and witches, who have yet to learn just how powerful they really are.

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30 in 30: Day 14 (in which I briefly talk about the Chaotic Canine, as portrayed by Thomas King)

Posted by Katje on February 26, 2011

Favorite character in a book (of any sex or gender)

This is kind of a difficult question. I mean, I’ve read like a thousand books (I wish life had achievement trackers like WoW does) so choosing one character out of all those stories is sort of a monumental task.

But, eh, what the hell. Coyote from Green Grass, Running Water, by Thomas King. First of all, I love the book, highly recommend it — it’s funny, poignant, and succinct. King is a master storyteller and humble, too (I recommend listening to his CBC Massey Lecture, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative), and after having the aforementioned novel assigned last semester in class I’m pretty excited to read his other works.

Coyote is the Chaotic Canine. He’s referred to as Coyote, but it never actually says that he appears as such — he could be human too. He’s always getting into trouble, or causing it. In Green Grass, Running Water his thread runs throughout all the stories, but mainly the creation story that pops in every few chapters and blends both Native and Christian imagery (it is even hinted at that Coyote is responsible for Mary’s “virgin” birth, which is pretty funny).

The main idea behind Coyote is that if there is Order, he will introduce Chaos to disrupt things. Because Order left alone lets things stagnate, and then we never grow. It is only Chaos that allows things to flourish — and as Chaos naturally gives rise to Order, it’s a self-perpetuating cycle. Order appears, Coyote disrupts it, Chaos reigns, Order appears again.

I think it’s obvious why he’s my favorite character. He’s an agent of chaos (like me) and he’s hilarious about it. To paraphrase from the book:

Talks-to-Coyote: “Where were you when the Rangers were shot, Coyote?”

Coyote: “I was in Toronto.”

Talks-to-Coyote: “When was that?”

Coyote: “…when were the Rangers shot?”

It’s like the Eddie Izzard sketch about how we lie about everything as kids: “I was dead at the time! I was on the moon, with Steve!” That’s Coyote.

 

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30 in 30: Day 12 (in which I pick apart Anne McCaffrey’s “feminism” and tell you why ten year olds really should not read her books (or my posts, truthfully))

Posted by Katje on December 20, 2010

A book or series of books you’ve read more than five times

Ugh. I really really really wish I could say The Black Jewels Trilogy for this one, but unfortunately I keep on losing my copy of that one and haven’t replaced enough times to have read it more than five times (I have read it four times). So in the interest of full disclosure…Freedom’s Landing, by Anne McCaffrey.

Don’t judge me! I was young! I did it for the money sex scene!

To be fair, though, Freedom’s Landing is a pretty good book, even if it is a prime example of some of Ms McCaffrey’s Favorite Tropes (that sounds like it should be a holiday dish of some sort: Favorite Tropes! Made of tears and repetition!).

She does ease up on the RACE A GOOD, RACE B EVIL (because A is for Aryan and B is for Black, see?) thing a little bit, but then puts all the blame on RACE C (for…cookies. They are a NEVER food!). To wit: book starts off with the Catteni established as the Bad Guys (with the exception of one, Zanial, who’s “good” even though he did try to rape the main character within the first 10 or so pages of the book) and the Terrans, Rugarians, Deski, and…some other alien races I’m forgetting the names of being the Good Guys. Catteni go around subjugating planets and taking slaves. One of the uses for slaves: making them colonize less-than-friendly planets for the Catteni, who will then move in and take advantage of all the slaves’ hard work. Apparently this works very well for them, and is important, as it is the basis of the entire book.

So, Kris Bjornsen and her fellow slaves get dropped on this planet…along with Zanial (it’s her fault she’s there, by the way, because when he made a move to grab her and rip her clothing off, she hit him over the head with a blunt object and then went to toss him in a deserted street of the main town of Barevi, only to get gassed because of the slave riots), whose life she saves by convincing the self-established leader of the slave-colonizers that Z would be useful.

By the end of the book it’s revealed that the Catteni are being controlled by a greater, EVILLER race, the Eosi (so I suppose they’d be Race E), who possess Catteni and make them do really gross things (like vote Republican). It is also revealed that Zanial has an amazing cock.

Because oh yes. Kris falls in love with him. And they totally do it. And it’s actually pretty hot, granted, but perhaps not the best thing for an impressionable 10 year old to be reading. Not because of the sex scene — I’m fully sex positive, and think kids can learn about sex and know about it a lot earlier than we give them credit for  – but because of the relationship dynamic.

Kris is set up as a strong woman. She is shown as someone you’d want to be like because she’s tough and capable. This may lead some to think that McCaffrey is being feminist in her portrayal of women.

Wrong. There is another character, Patty Sue. Kris gets “saddled” with her during the slaves’ long trek to find a place to live (a cave system, how charming). Patty Sue is portrayed as being weak and spineless, completely timid and mousy. Kris is a “good buddy” and “tolerates” Patty’s problems, but she is never happy about it. At some point it is revealed that Patty was raped. Kris is sympathetic, but the event is not really given the attention it should have been. And then later on Patty starts seeing this guy named John (I think), and suddenly she grows a spine and “comes into herself”.

What’s wrong with this picture? First, it portrays the woman you want to be like (tough and capable) as being incapable of being raped, because she’s just so strong. Then it portrays the woman you don’t want to be like (mousy, timid, prudish, weak, spineless) as a rape victim, who is stolen from (and it is insinuated that this is her fault, somehow) and can only become strong when a man shows interest.

News flash: tough and capable women get raped too. It doesn’t mean they aren’t tough and capable anymore. It means we live in a society where rape happens every few minutes, to people across the gender spectrum but disproportionately to women. Kris the character didn’t get raped because she was lucky, not because she was tough and capable. The Catteni were raping human women as a systematic tool of war and enslavement (gee, sound familiar?). Plenty of tough and capable women got raped.

But that’s not the message that gets across. What gets across is that if you have been raped, then you’re not tough and capable: you’re a victim, and you must wait around for a man to be your saviour.

And then there’s the Kris/Zanial thing. Which is the BIG PROBLEM.

Zanial attempts to rape Kris when he first meets her. This is a matter of course to him: he’s Catteni, she’s Terran (and attractive, only attractive women get raped in McCaffrey’s universe). Kris does the unexpected (to him, and probably to many readers, as women are traditionally seen as victims): she hits him over the head hard enough to knock him out, and then flies him into town to abandon his body in a gutter. (This is actually quite impressive, as the Catteni have very thick skin and are from a higher-gravity planet — they are incredibly strong, agile, and swift in low-grav settings. And notoriously hard to kill or even maim.)

Instead she gets captured, yadda yadda, convinces them to let Z. live. But wait. He tried to rape her, didn’t he? Why the sympathy? (To be fair: in the same situation, I’d probably convince the others to let him at least wake up before trying to kill him, and then if he survived in one-on-one combat to let him live as a slave to the rest of us. I’m a soft touch, though.)

Well, Kris doesn’t actually see it as attempted rape. It was just…what. I don’t know. I really don’t know what the fuck she sees it as, but not rape. She feels no anger towards him, or anything — in fact she feels remorse for getting him stuck on this planet, and ends up getting partnered with him for recon missions, and they become friends, and then she falls in love with him.

Ok, hi, in the real world, that’s Stockholm Syndrome. Or just plain old abuse, whatever.

Honestly, I could understand falling in love with someone who tried to kill you — I really could — but rape? It’s such a total invasion of your person, a total disregard for your humanity or autonomy, and it’s not something you ever really get over.

And yet here is a main character who’s supposed to be very feminist, very strong and capable, falling for her attacker. Because he’s reformed, or whatever. And she’s set up to be someone who can escape abuse! Not that this is totally believable, because people are human and any one of us can fall for it, and get roped into abusive situations. But it is contrary to Kris’s character, who is set up to be this unbelievably strong person who never lets anything bad happen to her.

This tells me to believe the lies my abuser may tell me, because yes — he’s probably changed and it’s my fault he was like that anyway, what was I doing so scantily clad, I must have been asking for it. So I should just not have any residual feelings about what happened and just accept the inevitable.

NOT A HEALTHY MESSAGE FOR A TEN YEAR OLD.

Fuck, not a healthy message for anybody, but especially not someone at an impressionable age.

You may think I’m exaggerating. Oh, come on, no one is really going to believe those sorts of messages reading this book, it’s just a story!

Let me tell you something.I know how fucking important stories are. They shape our very reality. And stories like this one hold up rape culture tropes (which, hello, McCaffrey is a HUGE FAN OF). Anything that reinforces tropes already present in society at large is guilty of perpetuating exactly the sort of society that lots of people don’t want to live in. (Quite honestly, who WOULD want to live in a society where rape is the norm?)

So, yes, that part of the book is a Big Problem. It did reinforce those tropes in my own ten-year-old brain, and they were very damaging to me for a long time.

If we take out the Stockholm Syndrome relationship/rape is okay! messages from the story, it’s actually a solid plot. And I’d reread it, because I know I’d probably enjoy it just as much as I did before.

But I would recommend that anyone reading it keeps those things in mind. Enjoy the book, but remember what it reinforces. Maybe don’t give it to your kids. Borrow it from the library, as much to support libraries as to not support those ideas.

Be a political reader. It can help change the world. (Ie, burn Twilight. And I do mean literally.)

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30 in 30: Day 11 (where I talk about the Duke’s flat soda)

Posted by Katje on December 19, 2010

A book that disappointed you

The Duke’s Ballad, by Andre Norton.

It was just fucking crap is what it was. I started reading it and it seemed to be starting a bit slow, but I persevered. I was on vacation after all, and it was one of the three books I had. I wasn’t going to NOT read it on account of it starting slow.

Worst. decision. ever.

There was the point in the book, this magical point, where I realized how crap the book was and how much better off I’d be if I just lit it on fire and threw it in Lago Atitlan. This magical point was also just past the point where I couldn’t stop reading it because it would drive me crazy if I didn’t finish it.

I finished it. It was flat like old soda. The characters were flat, the story was flat, the romance was flat, the tension was flat. I felt nothing for the main character, aside a wish she would die at some point. I sort of wished for them all to die. The protagonists were vaguely good as the antagonists were vaguely bad. Wasn’t much reason for either. I think there was some magic in it at some point, but I can’t be sure because it was 5 years ago and it was fucking terrible and there’s only so much therapy can block out.

So. My recommendation? DON’T FUCKING READ IT OMG MY EYEEEEESSSS.

Just saying.

 

Oh, and by the way? The duke? WAS THE BAD GUY. The book is about how he’s not really that bad, just misunderstood, or something, and the protagonist writes him a ballad when he dies. It made no sense because there was no clear motivation for anyone’s actions. It was a giant pile of WTF.

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30 in 30: Day 10 (in which I ramble off into existential bullshit about the nature of writing)

Posted by Katje on December 17, 2010

A book you thought you wouldn’t like but ended up loving

Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg. The book was assigned for a Creative Writing class I had back in 2004 (Hi, Vinnie). I took one look at it and rolled my eyes, thinking Whatever, I’ve been writing for years. What can this book possibly have for me?

Let it be said now, I was a fucking idiot when I was 17.

Goldberg’s book provided invaluable insights on the process of writing. I didn’t even think process was important, but the book made it clear that it was all there is. End result is nothing. Writing is life. You must live it.

I devoured the book. I read every inch of it and implemented practices from it into my life. It helped my writing grow in leaps and bounds.

Now, six and a half years later, I’ve pulled the book off my shelves again. I’m going to reread it. Implement the practices again, with six and a half years of knowledge added to my brain since the first time I read it. See what changes. See what I didn’t remember so well. See what I never forgot.

Being a writer is a neverending career. You never hit some imaginary level of “Grand Illustrious Master of the Pen” and then you’re done, no more advancement to go. There’s no level caps, and your achievements are more like Feats of Strength*** — they’re personal, things to look at and think “Yeah, I did that.” A lot of other folks — except your writer friends — won’t care.

And that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with that. Writing may make you a hermit. What are you going to make of that? — that’s the question. (Shakespeare had it wrong.)

What I’m going to make of that is some damn good stories. And poems. It’s not about outward recognition — yes, I’m nervous when I do put my stuff out there, and that’s part of the process too, that trial by fire of can you stand by your work enough to put it out there and take the criticism, but that’s not why I write. It informs my writing and makes me a better writer — I never would have won the Slam had I not lost it first. But it’s not why I write.

I write because I have fire in the head. And I’ll burn if I don’t let it out.

Until later,
-your drugged up on painkillers Katje

 

***Yes I know I play too much WoW shutupshutupshutUP.

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30 in 30: Day 03 (in which I review PORN — I mean, part of the Kushiel series)

Posted by Katje on August 13, 2010

The best book you’ve read in the last 12 months

This one is harder to answer because I’ve read fewer books in the past year than I usually have. (Yes, you read that right.) Most of the books I’ve read have been non-fiction, which usually means that I haven’t actually finished them yet. And I have trouble picking a non-fiction book as the “best” that I’ve read, because that’s not how I measure their worth — I measure their worth in how USEFUL they are to me (also what KIND of useful — Silver RavenWolf’s books are good as doorstops or toilet paper, so are a lesser kind of useful than ones I’d actually get good knowledge out of…also SRW’s books could probably be classified as fiction, so I guess it’s sort of a moot point).

So. I haven’t read that many fiction books in the past year. That I can remember. I actually don’t really remember much from week to week.

Which means I’m choosing a book I just finished, because it’s fresh in my mind and it’s by one of my favorite authors. Kushiel’s Justice, by Jacqueline Carey.

Kushiel’s Justice is the fifth book in the series, and it follows the story of Imriel, foster-son of the heroine from the first 3 books. It follows the first book about him, Kushiel’s Scion, and is followed by the last book, Kushiel’s Mercy, which I have yet to read. I also read Kushiel’s Scion in the past 12 months (last month, actually), but it’s not as good as Justice.

Why?

Because in Justice Imriel isn’t such a whiny little bitch.

The entire first book is about him trying to escape his past and his family and who he is. He’s like Luke Skywalker with a sword of metal instead of lazers. I’MMA CHARGGINNNNN MAH LAAAZZZHER. “Wah, my mother’s a traitor! Wah, I get off on beating people! Wah, I’m infatuated with the ONE WOMAN IN THE ENTIRE WORLD I CAN’T HAVE! Wah, I’m not as cool as my friend Eamonn! Wah, my family members are safe with being themselves!”

Ok, fine, Imriel, you were abused horribly as a child and yes, I get that and I respect that. But my gods it took you a book and a half to get to be a character I actually liked. (I’m not counting your appearance in Kushiel’s Avatar because that wasn’t from your point of view; also you were pretty cool for a kid who’d just been through what you’d been through.)  Less with the Whiny McBitchPants Luke Skywalker Syndrome and more with the hot beatings, yes?

Anyway. I’m not here to talk about Scion; I’m here to talk about Justice.

Justice has much the feel of the first trilogy, though it’s still not as good as the books about Phedre (cause it’s not about Phedre, natch). New lands, a quest carried out alone, danger, intrigue, even some sex! Not a lot, but some. (The second trilogy, so far, is not really PRON like the first is. Imri’s not an anguissette or a courtesan; he’s just a Shahrizai.)

I’m not going to get into details, because spoilers suck, but I did enjoy Justice far more than I enjoyed Scion. I actually stayed up all night reading Justice. With a flashlight. Under my covers. (It feels more important and dangerous when you do it that way.)

If you’re a fan of J. Carey’s work…you could probably skip Scion. I wouldn’t, but I have a deep-seated neurosis about reading books out of order (Discworld drives me NUTS). If you like boys kissing, however, don’t skip Scion. ;)

If you’ve never read J. Carey’s work, but you like richly painted fantasy worlds, sex, and/or BDSM, pick up Kushiel’s Dart and GET THEE TO A NUNNERY! I mean, reading room.

Anyway, regardless Kushiel’s Scion being rather lackluster, J. Carey is still one of my favorite authors. I honestly can’t wait to see the conclusion to Imriel’s story in Kushiel’s Mercy. (I have to finish my World of Warcraft novel first. ….yes, I’m reading a novelization about the rise of the Lich King. Shut up.)

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30 in 30: Day 02 (in which I’m actually pretty serious about The Fifth Sacred Thing)

Posted by Katje on August 12, 2010

Day 02 – A book or series you wish more people were reading and talking about

I’ve been putting off writing this post, because I was playing World of Warcraft. (You thought I was going to say something thoughtful or poignant, didn’t you? Silly. You should know by now.)

Truth is, there are a lot of books that I wish more people were reading and talking about — they range from actual literature to my own to feminist theory. The one I settled on is a piece of fiction.

A piece of fiction can change the world more deeply than a hundred pieces of nonfiction can. Not that there’s anything wrong with nonfiction; it’s just that people are more open to receiving important messages when they read fiction. Reading nonfiction puts our hackles and shields up.

The book is The Fifth Sacred Thing by Starhawk. Rather than try and explain it myself, I’m going to quote the Wikipedia summary because it does a much better job, and I’d like to get on with my actual blog post.

…a world set in the year 2048 after a catastrophe which has fractured the United States into several nations. The protagonists live inSan Francisco and have evolved in the direction of Ecotopia, reverting to a sustainable economy, using wind power, local agriculture, and the like. To the south, though, an overtly-theocratic Christian fundamentalist nation has evolved and plans to wage war against the San Franciscans. The novel explores the events before and during the ensuing struggle between the two nations, pitting utopia and dystopia against each other.

The story is primarily told from the points of view of 98-year-old Maya, her nominal granddaughter Madrone, and her grandson Bird. Through these and other characters, the story explores many elements from ecofeminism and ecotopian fiction.

The title is derived from the four elements of fireearthair, and water, plus an additional element revealed as the plot unfolds.

In the novel, San Francisco is a mostly pagan city where the streets have been torn up for gardens and streams, no one starves or is homeless, and the city’s defense council consists primarily of nine elderly women who “listen and dream”.

While the plot, characters, and setting are all well-done and reason enough to read the book, they are not the reasons I have for wanting people to read it.

There are ideas in this book. Powerful ideas. The Ecotopia Starhawk presents may not be a perfect one, but there is the idea that things don’t have to be the way they are. That they can be totally different.

Just being able to look at the book and see a different world presented is, to me, a very good thing. Sometimes the fact of existence — that our world sucks and it’s going to take a lot of work to change it and my gods maybe we can’t even change it maybe this is how things really are — weighs a little too heavy. It’s nice to look at something, even if it is fictional, and think “We could be more like that.”

This is why the myth of the “Great Universal Matriarchy” is so pervasive, even though it’s been debunked in academic circles for decades. I think it would be great if people stopped taking it as truth and started taking it as a myth — something to give hope, but a story. I can look at that myth and say “The world doesn’t have to be ultimately geared against people of my gender — or rather, people who aren’t cisgendered male — it could be different.”

That is what The Fifth Sacred Thing gave me. A look at a world where wealth was viewed completely differently, where children were cherished, where water and food were free, where people took care of each other and the four sacred things — earth, air, fire, water. The fifth being love.

The book ultimately changed me. I want more people to read it because then, they might be changed too.

Or not. But at least they’d be thinking about those ideas. Thinking about things is half the journey.

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