Gillian Polack's Blog, page 289
October 23, 2010
gillpolack @ 2010-10-23T15:54:00
Today I'm working. Miracle of miracles, the work is working, too. The missing review book has mysteriously discovered itself and I can write my piece by Monday (which is when I need to have it written by) and I've been re-reading my favourite book on exclusion and the excluded in Medieval literature. It examines how exclusion is codified in certain texts (mainly in Old French) and how society develops the tools to think about the excluded and to categorise the excluded and even demonise the excluded. The form of the discourse forces choices on individuals: seeing this stripped back and examined has made me think about the subject of the very recent internet discourse on exclusion.
For weeks I've been tussling with that which makes us unseen. I've been noticing the pressure around me that is intended to make the unseen seen and also that judgements take place once the unseen is seen. I've remarked upon how we've been encouraged to speak up in certain ways about certain subjects. I've been wondering if I should bow to pressure and make statements on my views and positions on these various matters and move from unseen to seen. Then I re-read this scholarly study and thought about it some more. And now we have Weather and I hurt. The aches brought by oncoming thunder turn everything personal.
The public pressures are interesting pressures. The judgements are important judgements. Nothing, however, is simple. Nothing is safe.
The literary pressure in much of the twelfth century was to ensure that differences showed and that action on differences was clear. In fact, difference was obvious, whether it was the difference of the vile peasant or the difference of an evil Jew or the difference of a pagan (read 'Moslem' - we get our biasses from our ancestors on all three fronts). The excluded. It all comes down to exclusion. Class-based exclusion, race-based exclusion, religion-based exclusion, gender-based exclusion, sexuality-based exclusion, exclusion for reasons of health of mental condition of physical condition. They're all exclusion.
Some of the texts (and some of the studies of the texts) point out that death is preferable to exclusion. That choice is not a new one. And yet we still say to each other "Speak out." And we're right and we're wrong.
We're right because if we change the discourse of exclusion then death will no longer be an option for as many people and being treated badly for who we are will no longer be an easy option for people with small souls.
We're wrong because speaking out on why we ourselves have been excluded must always be a personal choice. Those who are excluded are the only ones who should have the right to decide if their private selves are a matter for public discourse.
When a meme travels far enough, it becomes a pressure to announce "I have been bullied - I also suffer." "I have experienced racism." "I hurt because..." That pressure is subtle and insidious and can be dangerous. It excludes those who cannot or will not or ought not make their private selves public.
Right now I'm seeing a welling up of support for people who have hurt through exclusion. This is wonderful. It's a move towards more of us enjoying the company of other people who don't necessarily share our background or interests or religion or sexual preferences or health or a bunch of other things. This growth in understanding reminds me that humanity is fascinating and complex and that being different doesn't have to lead to exclusion. That exclusion or death are not the only choices.
It's good to be reminded of this. That exclusion or death are not the only choices. Those two words, exclusion and death, as choices, go back to that study of twelfth century literature. In fact, I was quoting from the second article. They were seen as clear options. You are of us, or you remain unseen, or you are to be excluded, or you must die. These were the specific choices for Jews in 1492. This is a very human way of creating a society. Not nice, but humans aren't always nice. So it's good to see so many people who want to change and live in a better society.
Right now, however, I'm also seeing an even bigger swelling up of enthusiasm for the public identification of differences. It implies that those who have been excluded should say so. That solidarity is the cure-all. That there is shame in not joining in.
There is no shame in being silent. The shame is in making decisions about silence for someone else. We all speak for ourselves. We don't have to speak up for ourselves or be public at all unless we choose it. We're the ones, after all, who have to weather the results if we speak up. What people volunteer is a special gift to the rest of us and should be treated with care and with honour.
For weeks I've been tussling with that which makes us unseen. I've been noticing the pressure around me that is intended to make the unseen seen and also that judgements take place once the unseen is seen. I've remarked upon how we've been encouraged to speak up in certain ways about certain subjects. I've been wondering if I should bow to pressure and make statements on my views and positions on these various matters and move from unseen to seen. Then I re-read this scholarly study and thought about it some more. And now we have Weather and I hurt. The aches brought by oncoming thunder turn everything personal.
The public pressures are interesting pressures. The judgements are important judgements. Nothing, however, is simple. Nothing is safe.
The literary pressure in much of the twelfth century was to ensure that differences showed and that action on differences was clear. In fact, difference was obvious, whether it was the difference of the vile peasant or the difference of an evil Jew or the difference of a pagan (read 'Moslem' - we get our biasses from our ancestors on all three fronts). The excluded. It all comes down to exclusion. Class-based exclusion, race-based exclusion, religion-based exclusion, gender-based exclusion, sexuality-based exclusion, exclusion for reasons of health of mental condition of physical condition. They're all exclusion.
Some of the texts (and some of the studies of the texts) point out that death is preferable to exclusion. That choice is not a new one. And yet we still say to each other "Speak out." And we're right and we're wrong.
We're right because if we change the discourse of exclusion then death will no longer be an option for as many people and being treated badly for who we are will no longer be an easy option for people with small souls.
We're wrong because speaking out on why we ourselves have been excluded must always be a personal choice. Those who are excluded are the only ones who should have the right to decide if their private selves are a matter for public discourse.
When a meme travels far enough, it becomes a pressure to announce "I have been bullied - I also suffer." "I have experienced racism." "I hurt because..." That pressure is subtle and insidious and can be dangerous. It excludes those who cannot or will not or ought not make their private selves public.
Right now I'm seeing a welling up of support for people who have hurt through exclusion. This is wonderful. It's a move towards more of us enjoying the company of other people who don't necessarily share our background or interests or religion or sexual preferences or health or a bunch of other things. This growth in understanding reminds me that humanity is fascinating and complex and that being different doesn't have to lead to exclusion. That exclusion or death are not the only choices.
It's good to be reminded of this. That exclusion or death are not the only choices. Those two words, exclusion and death, as choices, go back to that study of twelfth century literature. In fact, I was quoting from the second article. They were seen as clear options. You are of us, or you remain unseen, or you are to be excluded, or you must die. These were the specific choices for Jews in 1492. This is a very human way of creating a society. Not nice, but humans aren't always nice. So it's good to see so many people who want to change and live in a better society.
Right now, however, I'm also seeing an even bigger swelling up of enthusiasm for the public identification of differences. It implies that those who have been excluded should say so. That solidarity is the cure-all. That there is shame in not joining in.
There is no shame in being silent. The shame is in making decisions about silence for someone else. We all speak for ourselves. We don't have to speak up for ourselves or be public at all unless we choose it. We're the ones, after all, who have to weather the results if we speak up. What people volunteer is a special gift to the rest of us and should be treated with care and with honour.
October 22, 2010
gillpolack @ 2010-10-23T10:56:00
The latest post in Helen Lowe's series on why SF/F rocks the world of writers, is up, and it's by me. All cheeky comments will be answered in kind.
gillpolack @ 2010-10-22T22:44:00
My email has decided to demonstrate its personality again. Emails sent to me up to two weeks ago are arriving in small rushes in my in-box.
If I haven't answered something you sent me, it simply may not have arrived. Please feel free to email me again and again and again...
Tonight's viewing (with my Friday home cinema friends) was episodes of Superman (the first TV series) and "We're No Angels." In the latter, Peter Ustinov reminded me of one of my nephews. Over and over again he reminded me of that nephew. Since it's a Christmas movie and said nephew is Ultra-Orthodox, I do wonder what would happen if they encountered each other. I'm willing to take advice on this one.
If I haven't answered something you sent me, it simply may not have arrived. Please feel free to email me again and again and again...
Tonight's viewing (with my Friday home cinema friends) was episodes of Superman (the first TV series) and "We're No Angels." In the latter, Peter Ustinov reminded me of one of my nephews. Over and over again he reminded me of that nephew. Since it's a Christmas movie and said nephew is Ultra-Orthodox, I do wonder what would happen if they encountered each other. I'm willing to take advice on this one.
gillpolack @ 2010-10-22T14:37:00
The urge to pun has passed. I resisted most wonderfully. My reward is a movie night with friends. Between myself and my reward are four books...
October 21, 2010
gillpolack @ 2010-10-21T22:39:00
To pun or not to pun, that is the question.
gillpolack @ 2010-10-21T19:39:00
Today I took a couple of hours off and spent them window-shopping with a friend. We both needed it. I also washed dishes and clothes and stuff. The former was far more interesting than the latter.
I possibly should obtain some peculiar garments and plates in order to make my housework less ordinary. I shall drink tea from my dragon mug this evening and see. If my life is still mundane after that tea, then maybe I shall stick to comfortable clothes. Big black t-shirts - can never have too many.*
I have done other things today, but I look at my piles of books and papers and can't see any change. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and then maybe there will be change.
When the current books are away I shall have finished mining 16 shelves of books and will only have 7 to go. Then I can go back to the real libraries. Or maybe I can go back to analysing Timeline? It was to avoid this act that I started pulling my library to pieces, after all.
*I say this because all my big black t-shirts were washed today and are wet and I'm stuck wearing a mini-dress (dont ask what happened to the clothes I was wearing this afternoon, because the answer is messy and I simply don't want to go into it). I'm dearly hoping no-one knocks on the door tonight. It's a *very* mini-dress and I'm so not the shape of person one associates with such garments.
I possibly should obtain some peculiar garments and plates in order to make my housework less ordinary. I shall drink tea from my dragon mug this evening and see. If my life is still mundane after that tea, then maybe I shall stick to comfortable clothes. Big black t-shirts - can never have too many.*
I have done other things today, but I look at my piles of books and papers and can't see any change. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and then maybe there will be change.
When the current books are away I shall have finished mining 16 shelves of books and will only have 7 to go. Then I can go back to the real libraries. Or maybe I can go back to analysing Timeline? It was to avoid this act that I started pulling my library to pieces, after all.
*I say this because all my big black t-shirts were washed today and are wet and I'm stuck wearing a mini-dress (dont ask what happened to the clothes I was wearing this afternoon, because the answer is messy and I simply don't want to go into it). I'm dearly hoping no-one knocks on the door tonight. It's a *very* mini-dress and I'm so not the shape of person one associates with such garments.
October 20, 2010
gillpolack @ 2010-10-20T22:26:00
Did I tell you that today's word of the day was 'legend'? Then we had a request for 'dyslexia' and so we defined that as well. Being all kinds of Medieval right now, I instantly saw an historiated initial for the 'l' in legend and I told my students the story of William and the bandits. William is in my mind-picture of that historiated initial, defeating those bandits using the ripped-off hindleg of his beast of burden. He put the hindleg back, so he was cruel to animals but not nearly as cruel as he would have been without that saintly propensity to miracle.
'Dyslexia' doesn't lend itself as well to historiated initials, despite the fact that 'D' is an easier letter for them than 'L' is. If I were writing a novel for an illuminated manuscript, I might take more care concerning the words I used at the beginning of major sections.
You may have guessed from the above that I'm back from my meeting (which was a lot of fun - CSFG meetings always are, even without the added bonus of the film of Kaaron's story and her explanations of how the story to film process worked) and trying very hard to postpone doing any work. 'Work' is still a four letter word, after all, and my parents warned me that four letter words aren't nearly as interesting as the words I *could* use if I only tried.*
*This led to me calling my Grade Five teacher 'sesquipedalian' and also to me calling my classmates 'cucumbers.' 'Cucumbers' sounds positively evil in Hebrew. Also, if a teacher has to look a word up, he forgets to give detention. I don't know if this is a general rule, or if I was just lucky.
'Dyslexia' doesn't lend itself as well to historiated initials, despite the fact that 'D' is an easier letter for them than 'L' is. If I were writing a novel for an illuminated manuscript, I might take more care concerning the words I used at the beginning of major sections.
You may have guessed from the above that I'm back from my meeting (which was a lot of fun - CSFG meetings always are, even without the added bonus of the film of Kaaron's story and her explanations of how the story to film process worked) and trying very hard to postpone doing any work. 'Work' is still a four letter word, after all, and my parents warned me that four letter words aren't nearly as interesting as the words I *could* use if I only tried.*
*This led to me calling my Grade Five teacher 'sesquipedalian' and also to me calling my classmates 'cucumbers.' 'Cucumbers' sounds positively evil in Hebrew. Also, if a teacher has to look a word up, he forgets to give detention. I don't know if this is a general rule, or if I was just lucky.
gillpolack @ 2010-10-20T16:52:00
I worked my class very hard this morning: we covered everything from postcard poems to twisted fairy stories. I did messages on the way home and then went to bed for a bit. I have a mild virus that - when I rest in between things - leaves nothing but fatigue and a slight unease in its wake. You possibly don't want to know the symptoms when I don't rest or when I eat anything interesting. I certainly didn't want to know the symptoms. They're the reason last night was a wipeout after teaching.
I ought to leave the post there and leave behind me that sense of mild unease. Except that this would be mean, and I am nice. I keep telling my students so before I give them extra homework, so it's completely true. I'm very nice. Sometimes even charming.
In the spirit of niceness, let me inform you that Narrelle Harris has a Halloween competition, where the best false origin of Halloween wins the writer a cool book. My entry is a tad punny and can be read on Narrelle's Facebook page (under the discussion tab). I didn't want to enter, but Narrelle twisted my arm, so I wrote something influenced by that arm-twisting. That's my excuse for it, anyhow. Five minutes of my time very well spent. Or maybe ten. In a perfect world, Narrelle would be inundated with punny entries (I'm dropping hints very heavily, here, now) and she will never twist my arm again...
My Medieval self is turning courteous. So many people would be shocked at this thought.
I've been checking up proper courtesy in the Middle Ages and wondering if it can be translated into a modern novel without the reader being bored silly. The answer at this stage is, maybe not.
This is a pity, because Medieval greetings (my main source for this is Dupin's book and my own research of many years ago) are fancy and long and can be very subtle, which would open the door to infinite degrees of corresponding irony and sarcasm and downright rudeness. I'm just not sure that a three line greeting will meet the pacing needs of modern fiction.
Also, I wonder if the big formal greetings were everyday? It's possible, I guess, given different time senses. The trouble is that our sources are mainly literary. I'm pretty sure that your common garden person on ths street didn't greet people in rhyming couplets.* If they didn't do that, then maybe ten words or even eight did for formal greetings, and a simple "Salut, ami" for saying "G'day, mate."**
I've put the subject on hold for a couple of days so that my backbrain can ponder it before I check Dupin and some primary sources again. I may well be missing the wood for the trees. This is quite entirely because of something Dupin said about greeting people - you can never greet too much or too often - that made me think of certain nineteenth century electorates.
*Though I now have 2 TV programs that claim to have used iambic pentameters for entire episodes - the first V and an episode of Moonlighting.
**I don't think I've ever said "G'day mate." This makes the point about literary forms quite nicely, doesn't it?
I ought to leave the post there and leave behind me that sense of mild unease. Except that this would be mean, and I am nice. I keep telling my students so before I give them extra homework, so it's completely true. I'm very nice. Sometimes even charming.
In the spirit of niceness, let me inform you that Narrelle Harris has a Halloween competition, where the best false origin of Halloween wins the writer a cool book. My entry is a tad punny and can be read on Narrelle's Facebook page (under the discussion tab). I didn't want to enter, but Narrelle twisted my arm, so I wrote something influenced by that arm-twisting. That's my excuse for it, anyhow. Five minutes of my time very well spent. Or maybe ten. In a perfect world, Narrelle would be inundated with punny entries (I'm dropping hints very heavily, here, now) and she will never twist my arm again...
My Medieval self is turning courteous. So many people would be shocked at this thought.
I've been checking up proper courtesy in the Middle Ages and wondering if it can be translated into a modern novel without the reader being bored silly. The answer at this stage is, maybe not.
This is a pity, because Medieval greetings (my main source for this is Dupin's book and my own research of many years ago) are fancy and long and can be very subtle, which would open the door to infinite degrees of corresponding irony and sarcasm and downright rudeness. I'm just not sure that a three line greeting will meet the pacing needs of modern fiction.
Also, I wonder if the big formal greetings were everyday? It's possible, I guess, given different time senses. The trouble is that our sources are mainly literary. I'm pretty sure that your common garden person on ths street didn't greet people in rhyming couplets.* If they didn't do that, then maybe ten words or even eight did for formal greetings, and a simple "Salut, ami" for saying "G'day, mate."**
I've put the subject on hold for a couple of days so that my backbrain can ponder it before I check Dupin and some primary sources again. I may well be missing the wood for the trees. This is quite entirely because of something Dupin said about greeting people - you can never greet too much or too often - that made me think of certain nineteenth century electorates.
*Though I now have 2 TV programs that claim to have used iambic pentameters for entire episodes - the first V and an episode of Moonlighting.
**I don't think I've ever said "G'day mate." This makes the point about literary forms quite nicely, doesn't it?
October 19, 2010
gillpolack @ 2010-10-20T08:47:00
I read the posts people make about bullying and then I think "Why can't I make a post like this?" The reason is simple: it's all too close to home. I can now talk about bullying in private. it might take a while before I can talk about it in public. It's been such a part of my life that I'm never sure it won't return.
Silence is not always consent. It can also be hurt.
PS Why did I finally say this? Because I noticed the silence of a few friends who have been and are in similar life-positions. Someone has to speak up for the silenced. It will hurt me less than it will hurt them, so I finally bit the bullet.
Silence is not always consent. It can also be hurt.
PS Why did I finally say this? Because I noticed the silence of a few friends who have been and are in similar life-positions. Someone has to speak up for the silenced. It will hurt me less than it will hurt them, so I finally bit the bullet.
gillpolack @ 2010-10-19T14:11:00
I just got a new review book in the mail. I can see a BiblioBuffet post on women convicts in my future... (parcels are such handy crystal balls - mind you, I have to finish reviewing a couple of short story volumes first - I guess this means I ought to do some work and stop playing round on LJ)
