Patrick Stewart on Domestic Violence
Patrick Stewart on domestic violence. Incredibly affecting and personal, yet still political--I appreciate when discussions of domestic violence blend the personal and the systemic.
The Guild
The lecture on Second Life and gaming and avatars reminded me of Felicia Day (of Buffy and Dr. Horrible fame) and the Guild's music video "Do you Want to Date My Avatar?" Oh Felicia, you are hilarious and awesome.
Transgender Day of Remembrance
It's the Transgender Day of Remembrance today.
Locals, if you are looking for a way to honor the day, there's an event tonight at 6pm--Trans Monologues, held at A Room of One's Own--and evening of theater, poetry, music and all other kinds of expression, followed by a vigil. It's free and sure to be good.
In honor of the day will take this opportunity to plug a book I really enjoy-- Like Son by Felicia Luna Lemus. The protagonist is a trans man living in NYC, and it's a story about his tempestuous and occasionally luminescent relationship with his girlfriend, his obsession with the mystery of his grandmother who had a scandalous queer affair in hedonistic upper class Mexican society of the 20s, idealized through a photograph, and a story about the joys and dangers of nostalgia. I consider it significant because it is a novel that goes beyond the narrative of transition, exploring a man's life as refracted through his present and his history. It's a beautiful book, and I think it deserves more attention.
The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N. K. Jemisin
I just finished reading this book for the second time. I didn't mean to read it again--it had been a few months and I was finally going to get around to writing a post about it, and I started flipping through the book and reading random pages, and before I knew it I had been completely sucked in again. I gave in and started it over from the beginning, because the world and the characters are so fascinating.
I've put off writing about this book because it is one of my favorites I've read this year, and it's not even out yet. It is so good I'm intimidated just writing about it, in case I don't do it justice. It has many of my favorite tropes: country girl in the city, lost heirs, intricate politics, queer epic love, a past and future that stretch beyond the timeline of the book but influence its events. A really awesome set of gods and goddesses who are uncanny--that is, not simply humans with extra powers, but actually fundamentally alien, though they seem all too human at times. Difficult metaphysics, high stakes, (almost) nobody is purely good or purely evil. Stunning visual descriptions. Plot twists so intense and so frequent it's like riding a giddy whirlwind to read. One of the best parts is that Yeine is a protagonist whose voice isn't just that of an American transplanted to a fantasy land, but whose thought patterns and metaphors unapologetically reflect her heritage, a culture which we only see a few glimpses of outright but which is rich and layers and affects her decisions and perspectives throughout the book. It's got sharp, often violent action that lends urgency to every moment we see.
The writing is tight and often luminescent--there are a few phrases and passages that made me gasp in appreciation of the craft. It's difficult to pull this kind of book off well--to leave enough hints about the many mysteries that are unfolding without revealing the twists too soon. Conversely, you don't want to give too little information, or the reader will check out. I felt like each twist was doled out at just the right time, and I continued to be surprised and delighted as each new piece of the story revealed hidden emotional or political depths. The plot is beautifully constructed through taut, lean prose. The first person narration is engaging and the character's voice is capable of sustaining it throughout, with tension between the story-as-told and the speaker's moments of mad self-doubt. It's riveting storytelling.
It's a truly remarkable book, and I eagerly await the sequel. We get a couple of pages of it as a teaser at the end of the ARC, and just from that it's obvious that the series will address the few issues I had with this first installment--namely, that it focuses primarily on the concerns of the rich and powerful, despite its protagonist of 'barbaric' roots.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys original, character-driven fantasy that doesn't pull its punches. It comes out in February--you can pre-order yours through your local independent bookstore! If you're not sure where yours is, have a look on Indiebound.
Rip! A Remix Manifesto
The other night I had friends over to watch Rip! A Remix Manifesto, which I'd gotten from Netflix.
I was unimpressed. There were some arguments I appreciated, a few points I hadn't seen yet, but on the whole it wasn't a very comprehensive piece.
I am, of course, on board with the central premise of the film--that copyright laws are restrictive and are damaging to free expression and serving to quash creativity, not foster and promote it. I don't think it's ideal to do away with copyright altogether, but I do think the laws as they stand are excessive, and there should be more protections for fair use and transformative work, and some attention to the right of the public to engage with collective culture and entertainment in an active way.
My biggest problem with the movie was how limited it was in scope, especially with regard to race and gender. It seemed to assume from the outset that we-the-viewer already agree with him (which, as it happens, I mostly do), I don't see it doing much to sway someone who didn't already agree (think Michael Moore). It also focused way too much on one (white) performer, Girltalk (I hate that name on a straight boy) who was a pal of the filmmaker's. It was a documentary that focused primarily on remixing music (with nod to film remix basically inasmuch as it applied to the making of this documentary itself, and almost nothing about print remix). He didn't talk about modern hip hop or rap at all, and the only mentions of musical communities of people of color were the old blues guys (Muddy Waters etc.) and modern Brazil. There were almost no women in the movie--there was the copyright office lady who was basically set up to be laughed down, and there was Girltalk's girlfriend whose only comments in the film were about when Girltalk doesn't wear pants. We also saw one woman later on in the film who'd been sued for downloading music, so at least her story was relevant even if it was all about her as a victim of the system, rather than an active participant in remix culture. Because obviously women and people of color aren't creative enough to be included in this movie as artists. /sarcasm
It just wasn't a very nuanced argument, and ignored issues of race and gender--and we all know how I feel about that.
I'm also reading Siva Vaidhyanathan's Copyrights and Copywrongs, and I think I'm going to use that as my book for this class, and remix Rip! to a) bring attention to the people of color and women who ARE artists worthy of celebration (the book does mention several hip hop and rap artists that I'll mix in), and b) bring in the more sophisticated arguments Vaidhyanathan is making. So, that will be my class vid.