Gillian Polack's Blog, page 87
December 31, 2013
gillpolack @ 2014-01-01T09:37:00
Welcome to 2014 - it's lovely here and I have no hangover. I regard this as a very good sign, for I drank more than i ate last night. I don't drink very often (I have known alcoholics, so I'm careful about drinking alone), and when I do drink I seldom drink enough to make me tipsy and last night I slurred my words, to the amusement of my friends. It sounded exactly as if I had a migraine, but was a lot happier than that. Alas, for my metabolism, the happy drunk lasted for only about a half an hour. But thanks to the metabolism, I could drink 3 cups of iced tea spiked with cumquat liqueur, a small bottle of champagne, and two generous glasses of a 1948 white muscat from Rutherglen with no problems and after effects whatsoever.
I was going to do you a proper New Year post, with resolutions and deep thoughts, but it can wait, or maybe I won't do one at all. Either way, I had a lovely evening with friends and saw the old year out in a delightful way. Today I have a lunch with different friends and then meet my BFF online.
2014 is going to rock!
PS Look, I'm taking a day off! Imagine, celebrating the new year and taking a day off...
I was going to do you a proper New Year post, with resolutions and deep thoughts, but it can wait, or maybe I won't do one at all. Either way, I had a lovely evening with friends and saw the old year out in a delightful way. Today I have a lunch with different friends and then meet my BFF online.
2014 is going to rock!
PS Look, I'm taking a day off! Imagine, celebrating the new year and taking a day off...
December 30, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-12-31T15:58:00
I am exceedingly grumpy today. I realised that I was going to be grumpy because the day is a bit warmer than it should be and because the front door has been open and because of the lack of sleep, so I went to take a nap. The same neighbour decided to talk outside my window just at the moment when me waking up would leave me hurting. Ten more minutes and the pain would've been gone. Now I'm eating the last of the choc-coated coffee beans and drinking water and waiting for the worst to pass. Obviously my migraine wasn't quite as far gone as it should have been before the lack of sleep. I also keep wondering if we're going to get a storm, but the Bureau of meteorology says 'no.'
I've got at least one friend coming round to see the New Year in with me. This gives me five hours to get my act together and to de-sensitise my hearing. I'll be fine in an hour, because the weather has shifted slightly (what I was hoping to sleep through and why I hurt so very much at this moment) and it will be quite a nice evening. I shall spend the next fifteen minutes sorting books (with the aid of a bottle of water) for that will stretch my muscles a little.
One thing, if my neighbours forgot that today was a workday and kept the rest of us up late, I can watch DVDs as late as I like tonight and sleep in tomorrow. They're the only ones affected by my late night habits, and normally I keep things turned down really low, just in case it bothers them. There'll be people hooting horns and things till well after 1 pm (for I live on a major road) so I can relax and not worry about being a nuisance.
And now, the worst of the migraine has been coffee/chocolated out of existence (which proves that it was still the remnants of the other one and that the bad timing is the only reason I have it back), I shall hie me to my library and sort some books until the rest has gone.
On real news, I only have 2 novels to read for the Aurealis awards. One of them hasn't arrived yet, and things close today, so I may only have one to go. I'll finish by the end of the week, all going well. This is just as well, for the daftest things keep taking up time they ought not take up, and having finished all sixty-something Aurealis books means I'll have more time for those daft things.
There are some really rather wonderful YA novels in Australia this year. When the short list is out, I might produce my own special long list, if people want. Like last year, there will be quite a few really good books that can't make the shortlist and that thoroughly deserve to be read.
I've got at least one friend coming round to see the New Year in with me. This gives me five hours to get my act together and to de-sensitise my hearing. I'll be fine in an hour, because the weather has shifted slightly (what I was hoping to sleep through and why I hurt so very much at this moment) and it will be quite a nice evening. I shall spend the next fifteen minutes sorting books (with the aid of a bottle of water) for that will stretch my muscles a little.
One thing, if my neighbours forgot that today was a workday and kept the rest of us up late, I can watch DVDs as late as I like tonight and sleep in tomorrow. They're the only ones affected by my late night habits, and normally I keep things turned down really low, just in case it bothers them. There'll be people hooting horns and things till well after 1 pm (for I live on a major road) so I can relax and not worry about being a nuisance.
And now, the worst of the migraine has been coffee/chocolated out of existence (which proves that it was still the remnants of the other one and that the bad timing is the only reason I have it back), I shall hie me to my library and sort some books until the rest has gone.
On real news, I only have 2 novels to read for the Aurealis awards. One of them hasn't arrived yet, and things close today, so I may only have one to go. I'll finish by the end of the week, all going well. This is just as well, for the daftest things keep taking up time they ought not take up, and having finished all sixty-something Aurealis books means I'll have more time for those daft things.
There are some really rather wonderful YA novels in Australia this year. When the short list is out, I might produce my own special long list, if people want. Like last year, there will be quite a few really good books that can't make the shortlist and that thoroughly deserve to be read.
gillpolack @ 2013-12-31T08:35:00
I don't think my next door neighbour sleeps. He was talking with the neighbour opposite until well after 2 am (they had the window open, which is how i know) and then he vroomed his car at 8 am to go to work this morning. That's how much sleep I've had...and how much I live in hopes that these otherwise-nice neighbours who leave doors open and don't always respect quiet in public areas get that house they need very, very soon. That's the thing, you see, they're noisy because there are too many of them to a flat, because they work long and strange hours, and because they have cousins in the flats opposite and just forget. The rest of us have done all we can.
When I realised I had insomnia (the gentle sort one gets from a quiet conversation just out of reach) I stopped trying to sleep and I did another batch of work. Some Beast-books did get done yesterday, after all, therefore. More will be done this morning, because now I'm awake, I need to stay awake and be dressed in case my work experience student comes this morning.
Now that my morning whinge is done, I need to finish washing dishes, getting dressed, tidying up a bit and then I shall get back to these books. If I can finish the next batch of books in a reasonable time, I get to make Han-in-carbonite chocolates for my friends to eat tonight. it's all excitement today chez Gillian.
When I realised I had insomnia (the gentle sort one gets from a quiet conversation just out of reach) I stopped trying to sleep and I did another batch of work. Some Beast-books did get done yesterday, after all, therefore. More will be done this morning, because now I'm awake, I need to stay awake and be dressed in case my work experience student comes this morning.
Now that my morning whinge is done, I need to finish washing dishes, getting dressed, tidying up a bit and then I shall get back to these books. If I can finish the next batch of books in a reasonable time, I get to make Han-in-carbonite chocolates for my friends to eat tonight. it's all excitement today chez Gillian.
From Menasseh Ben Israel to Oliver Cromwell – “Let my people back in!” (the disrespectful version)
Bushfire brain has hit, so I have done easy stuff. Referencing takes precision and bushfire brains lack precision. Instead, I did more of my Aurealis reading (1250 pages more - only 2 1/2 books to go, which means Aurealis time can be replaced by referencing later in the week) and I've finished with 2 of the seventeenth century books. One was small and not quite relevant, but I've done you an Evil Gillian summary of it, for it's interesting. It's the argument used to get Jews formally accepted back into England under Cromwell. Jews were already there and came out of hiding (the Portuguese embassy was the main hiding place, quite probably) soon after Ben Israel wrote to Cromwell, but the arguments he uses are interesting. They're far more serious than my approach suggests. Blame bushfire brain. Also, I'm of European Jewish ancestry - it's my own dark history I'm mocking. It's nice to know how noble I am, though.
We have ancient and pure and noble blood. We make other people very wealthy because we’re so very marvellous in our dealings with people who don’t persecute us quite as much and we are a source of prosperity for cities we live in. This is helped by the idiots who throw us out of their countries, because we develop the most marvellous networks. For we are all over the place except the Commonwealth – we have significant populations in Asia, even, which is really awesome for trade. I mean, Asia! And we invent things. And we pay taxes. And we make things. Plus, we are really, really loyal to those folk who are good to us and we don’t take the money and run, but add to local wealth. These are the reasons we’re not despicable – in fact, we’re quite nice, really. Proof of this is the King of Denmark invited us in and gave us special privileges and so did the Duke of Savoy. That’s how gorgeously undespicable we are.
There are four shuls in Cochin alone. Asia! Only one of them is white. Asian Jews! The Persian Jews are more numerous, but not doing so well. In fact, they “live indifferent freely” and some are very brave. In Baghdad they no longer have to pay as much tribute, thanks to the Sultan, who’s obviously a wise chap and refused to kill Jews when he put the rest of the city to the sword in 1636
.
All this is nothing compared to the Jews of the Turkish Empire, about whom I shall wax lyrical for a bit. Constantinople alone has 48 synagogues! (let me not imply that you can’t even achieve one synagogue in London, for that would defeat my purpose.) Anyhow, there are many millions of Jews in the Kingdom of the Great Turke. Many. There are not as many in Prague and other European cities, but those who are there are treated well by that nice Emperor-person. They’re treated badly by everyone else, but that’s because they wear ‘vile cloathing’*. There are many, many Jews, despite the Cossacks, who recently killed 180,000.
Don’t forget Italy, by the way. Nice place, Italy, and a good place for Jews to live because the Princes there are mostly protective. Not that I’m giving you a travel guide to the Jewish world. All I’m doing is showing you (subtly, again) how wide the dispersal is and that we’re only missing your very religious country before the prerequisites for the Messiah arriving are met. I won’t say that directly here, though, for I mentioned it in that other document published herealongwith. I shall merely imply it and give you a nice overview of how very dispersed Jews are. And besides, it shows that if the Messiah doesn’t come right away (although you and I both know he will) you can see that the other argument I made in the other document (about us bringing prosperity) is true and you will want us even more. The three hundred Jewish houses in Amsterdam are proof of this. And if you’re worried about poor Jews being a burden, don’t be. We’re outstanding at poor relief – let me show you.
We’re charming, self-effacing and really good at handling our own problems. The prince who drives us out is obviously an idiot. The one who lets us in is wise beyond belief. Just to make sure this is crystal clear, let me talk for pages and pages and pages about how very faithful and good we are, even in the face of idiot princes. I especially want to point out what a terrible mess Castile was in 1492. A lot of people said “We’d never have agreed to them going if we knew we were going to be so poor as a result. Stupid king.” Even the Parliament of Paris thought the Spanish king was stupid. Let me tell you some heartrending tales to hammer the point home.
OK, some people hate us. We know that. You do know that the whole usury thing is a bit of a libel? We have laws against robbery, you know. And we don’t kill Christian children. In fact, we don’t kill any children. That’s also against our law. This is an instance of people picking on the underdog, or to say it in my own words (for they are of surpassing eloquence) “men are very prone to hate and despise him that hath ill fortune.” We’re dispersed, afflicted and so people pick on us. Despite our obvious niceness. This is the bottom line. Besides, if our law says we can’t even eat an egg that has a spot of blood, why would we want to drink of the blood of a human? Stupid bigots. Though, really, I think that it’s all greed, since all the goods of the accused end up in the hands of the bigots, somehow.
Oh, and about that rumour that some Spanish nobles became Jewish? We don’t try to convert people. Anyone who wants to become Jewish has to convince us, and we’re not easily convinced. I don’t even know if anyone did convert, but you can trust me we never pushed for them to join us. It was just an excuse to throw us out of the country. Idiot king. Life sucks.
I don’t have to prove how very, very noble we are, because everyone knows that. For we are, terribly, terribly, terribly noble and ancient and pure. An Englishman said so in 1648, so it must be true.
*it is not clear here whether Jews or non-Jews wear the ‘vile cloathing’
We have ancient and pure and noble blood. We make other people very wealthy because we’re so very marvellous in our dealings with people who don’t persecute us quite as much and we are a source of prosperity for cities we live in. This is helped by the idiots who throw us out of their countries, because we develop the most marvellous networks. For we are all over the place except the Commonwealth – we have significant populations in Asia, even, which is really awesome for trade. I mean, Asia! And we invent things. And we pay taxes. And we make things. Plus, we are really, really loyal to those folk who are good to us and we don’t take the money and run, but add to local wealth. These are the reasons we’re not despicable – in fact, we’re quite nice, really. Proof of this is the King of Denmark invited us in and gave us special privileges and so did the Duke of Savoy. That’s how gorgeously undespicable we are.
There are four shuls in Cochin alone. Asia! Only one of them is white. Asian Jews! The Persian Jews are more numerous, but not doing so well. In fact, they “live indifferent freely” and some are very brave. In Baghdad they no longer have to pay as much tribute, thanks to the Sultan, who’s obviously a wise chap and refused to kill Jews when he put the rest of the city to the sword in 1636
.
All this is nothing compared to the Jews of the Turkish Empire, about whom I shall wax lyrical for a bit. Constantinople alone has 48 synagogues! (let me not imply that you can’t even achieve one synagogue in London, for that would defeat my purpose.) Anyhow, there are many millions of Jews in the Kingdom of the Great Turke. Many. There are not as many in Prague and other European cities, but those who are there are treated well by that nice Emperor-person. They’re treated badly by everyone else, but that’s because they wear ‘vile cloathing’*. There are many, many Jews, despite the Cossacks, who recently killed 180,000.
Don’t forget Italy, by the way. Nice place, Italy, and a good place for Jews to live because the Princes there are mostly protective. Not that I’m giving you a travel guide to the Jewish world. All I’m doing is showing you (subtly, again) how wide the dispersal is and that we’re only missing your very religious country before the prerequisites for the Messiah arriving are met. I won’t say that directly here, though, for I mentioned it in that other document published herealongwith. I shall merely imply it and give you a nice overview of how very dispersed Jews are. And besides, it shows that if the Messiah doesn’t come right away (although you and I both know he will) you can see that the other argument I made in the other document (about us bringing prosperity) is true and you will want us even more. The three hundred Jewish houses in Amsterdam are proof of this. And if you’re worried about poor Jews being a burden, don’t be. We’re outstanding at poor relief – let me show you.
We’re charming, self-effacing and really good at handling our own problems. The prince who drives us out is obviously an idiot. The one who lets us in is wise beyond belief. Just to make sure this is crystal clear, let me talk for pages and pages and pages about how very faithful and good we are, even in the face of idiot princes. I especially want to point out what a terrible mess Castile was in 1492. A lot of people said “We’d never have agreed to them going if we knew we were going to be so poor as a result. Stupid king.” Even the Parliament of Paris thought the Spanish king was stupid. Let me tell you some heartrending tales to hammer the point home.
OK, some people hate us. We know that. You do know that the whole usury thing is a bit of a libel? We have laws against robbery, you know. And we don’t kill Christian children. In fact, we don’t kill any children. That’s also against our law. This is an instance of people picking on the underdog, or to say it in my own words (for they are of surpassing eloquence) “men are very prone to hate and despise him that hath ill fortune.” We’re dispersed, afflicted and so people pick on us. Despite our obvious niceness. This is the bottom line. Besides, if our law says we can’t even eat an egg that has a spot of blood, why would we want to drink of the blood of a human? Stupid bigots. Though, really, I think that it’s all greed, since all the goods of the accused end up in the hands of the bigots, somehow.
Oh, and about that rumour that some Spanish nobles became Jewish? We don’t try to convert people. Anyone who wants to become Jewish has to convince us, and we’re not easily convinced. I don’t even know if anyone did convert, but you can trust me we never pushed for them to join us. It was just an excuse to throw us out of the country. Idiot king. Life sucks.
I don’t have to prove how very, very noble we are, because everyone knows that. For we are, terribly, terribly, terribly noble and ancient and pure. An Englishman said so in 1648, so it must be true.
*it is not clear here whether Jews or non-Jews wear the ‘vile cloathing’
December 29, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-12-30T14:22:00
Today is tidbit day. Let me make you a list of ten things:
1. I'm only missing three Aurealis novels, which is a lot better than this time last year. Entries close tomorrow, though, so missing any at this stage does not bode that well for those nominated works.
2. My left foot can finally do a full range of stretches. Thank goodness. It's kind of embarrassing to have gone from walking 18,000 steps a day to not being able to walk to the post office. One thing it's taught me, though: I don't need to do all that walking for weight management (which is why I was walking 18,000 steps a day). It makes not a scrap of difference to my weight, in fact. I'll go back to more moderate amounts of exercise and focus on fitness, strength and flexibility instead of weight loss. The doctor won't be happy... I will, however, free up two hours in my day, which is not a bad thing.
3. I have effectively demonstrated these last few weeks that my weight is not controlled by calories or exercise. My metabolism is unusual. I knew that. The doctor knew that. Now, though, I'm going to stop listening when I am told "Eat less. Exercise more." I've worked out what *does* work, which is good. Watch this space...
4. My goal for the next week is to finish with fifty books a day. A bit of this is reading, but most of this is referencing for the Beast. It's not nearly as vulgarly ambitious as it sounds. My today's batch is 25 books before dinner and 25 books after. I am running later because yesterday's migraine lingered, so I did household things instead of Beastly things.
5. I now have two teaching boxes, all sorted and packed, and my teaching materials are no longer randomly scattered around the flat. They were beautifully ornamental, but I had trouble finding them. One teaching box is a vintage hat box and the other is a vintage sewing machine. This means that my teaching materials look like part of the furniture... My next goal is to similarly re-purpose the old biscuit box, because then I look all kinds of civilised and my loungeroom houses disguised mayhem.
6. I am finished with the seventeenth century until 7 January. Even from 7 January it'll be a book a day (replacing the Aurealis reading, basically) not the furious stuff I've done to date. When I get time, I'll up the pace, for I have 400 books, most published in the seventeenth century - this is when the research gets fun. I don't have to read all of each of them, but I suspect I might.
7. I'm in danger of becoming educated.
8. I'm still At Home to Visitors on New Year's Eve. All my home made liqueurs will be consumable, as will raspberry cordial, iced tea and various hot drinks. BYO chips, though.
9. Someone left the security door open and my workspace got flooded with heat. Some one will get a neighbourly frown if I find out who they are. (I know who they are, and they keep forgetting and it's annoying the whole block, but there's nothing more we can do except shut the door when we find it open and proffer neighbourly frowns.)
10. 1 January is a new moon. This means that the secular new year is just over 2 weeks from the new year for trees. I don't recall them having been this close before. On an almost-related note, could people *please* stop wishing me Happy Chanukah? The next person to do this gets wished Happy Valentine's Day and can give me chocolate.
1. I'm only missing three Aurealis novels, which is a lot better than this time last year. Entries close tomorrow, though, so missing any at this stage does not bode that well for those nominated works.
2. My left foot can finally do a full range of stretches. Thank goodness. It's kind of embarrassing to have gone from walking 18,000 steps a day to not being able to walk to the post office. One thing it's taught me, though: I don't need to do all that walking for weight management (which is why I was walking 18,000 steps a day). It makes not a scrap of difference to my weight, in fact. I'll go back to more moderate amounts of exercise and focus on fitness, strength and flexibility instead of weight loss. The doctor won't be happy... I will, however, free up two hours in my day, which is not a bad thing.
3. I have effectively demonstrated these last few weeks that my weight is not controlled by calories or exercise. My metabolism is unusual. I knew that. The doctor knew that. Now, though, I'm going to stop listening when I am told "Eat less. Exercise more." I've worked out what *does* work, which is good. Watch this space...
4. My goal for the next week is to finish with fifty books a day. A bit of this is reading, but most of this is referencing for the Beast. It's not nearly as vulgarly ambitious as it sounds. My today's batch is 25 books before dinner and 25 books after. I am running later because yesterday's migraine lingered, so I did household things instead of Beastly things.
5. I now have two teaching boxes, all sorted and packed, and my teaching materials are no longer randomly scattered around the flat. They were beautifully ornamental, but I had trouble finding them. One teaching box is a vintage hat box and the other is a vintage sewing machine. This means that my teaching materials look like part of the furniture... My next goal is to similarly re-purpose the old biscuit box, because then I look all kinds of civilised and my loungeroom houses disguised mayhem.
6. I am finished with the seventeenth century until 7 January. Even from 7 January it'll be a book a day (replacing the Aurealis reading, basically) not the furious stuff I've done to date. When I get time, I'll up the pace, for I have 400 books, most published in the seventeenth century - this is when the research gets fun. I don't have to read all of each of them, but I suspect I might.
7. I'm in danger of becoming educated.
8. I'm still At Home to Visitors on New Year's Eve. All my home made liqueurs will be consumable, as will raspberry cordial, iced tea and various hot drinks. BYO chips, though.
9. Someone left the security door open and my workspace got flooded with heat. Some one will get a neighbourly frown if I find out who they are. (I know who they are, and they keep forgetting and it's annoying the whole block, but there's nothing more we can do except shut the door when we find it open and proffer neighbourly frowns.)
10. 1 January is a new moon. This means that the secular new year is just over 2 weeks from the new year for trees. I don't recall them having been this close before. On an almost-related note, could people *please* stop wishing me Happy Chanukah? The next person to do this gets wished Happy Valentine's Day and can give me chocolate.
December 28, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-12-29T13:27:00
The not-making-coffee was a prelude to a sinus-triggered migraine, I'm afraid (the onset of big winds bringing welcome reduction in heat - perfect example of ill winds blowing both bad and good). That's the bad news. I've mostly emerged from it and am tired easily, but able to do things. Two minutes at a time, I've done some of the housework for today and about an hour's work. I'm rather pleased with this, because it shows I'm past the worst of my various illnesses. If I can do 6 hours work and an hour's housework the day of a migraine (and I've already done one hour, so five more are quite feasible) then I can do most things. I can't do close reading today, but that's cool, because today was the first of my checking books for reference days, which is lots of quick looks at lots of things.
The bad news about the migraine is I can't walk up the street to the library and busses are on Sunday (ie impossible) timetables. This is only bad because of Mary Poppins. I'll have to join my Mary Poppins re-read friends early in the new year, for after today the library is not open until next weekend. (Unless a friend drops in and can be persuaded to go for me, but that would be luck and I do not believe in luck on migraine days.)
I've nearly finished with the seventeenth century for a week or so. I'm just downloading the last of the books I'll need for my next bit, and I'm done. What I have now is a clear framework for the novel, a solid idea of the issues I need my characters to address and a good feel for how they will go about addressing them. I know the broader options for belief and understanding of the supernatural at that time and how our modern views can serve as a bridge into them (for they can - I was entirely right!) and my research is already throwing up stuff that happened to people at that time which might have to happen to my characters.
One of my favourite tasks in that next phase is reading dozens of books and checking a whole bunch of dictionaries for the current meanings of words in the late seventeenth century. I checked that this was a good approach by checking Pepys' use of sleeping with someone. You'll be saddened to know that the seventeenth century Spanish dictionary implied that Pepys was purely hetero ie when he said he slept with someone, he only meant he shared a room and maybe a bed. This is where the Medievalist propensity to languages pays off,for I don't have to just use English dictionaries (though I adore Cotgrave): I've downloaded bilingual French, Italian, Spanish and, I think, Latin as well. I ought to get German and Dutch, to be honest and might do them later. German and Dutch are not so easy for me (ie I don't know much of either, possibly I know enough, though).
I want to give you more news, but there is none. I'm willing to give my fading migraine to a new home, though, free.
The bad news about the migraine is I can't walk up the street to the library and busses are on Sunday (ie impossible) timetables. This is only bad because of Mary Poppins. I'll have to join my Mary Poppins re-read friends early in the new year, for after today the library is not open until next weekend. (Unless a friend drops in and can be persuaded to go for me, but that would be luck and I do not believe in luck on migraine days.)
I've nearly finished with the seventeenth century for a week or so. I'm just downloading the last of the books I'll need for my next bit, and I'm done. What I have now is a clear framework for the novel, a solid idea of the issues I need my characters to address and a good feel for how they will go about addressing them. I know the broader options for belief and understanding of the supernatural at that time and how our modern views can serve as a bridge into them (for they can - I was entirely right!) and my research is already throwing up stuff that happened to people at that time which might have to happen to my characters.
One of my favourite tasks in that next phase is reading dozens of books and checking a whole bunch of dictionaries for the current meanings of words in the late seventeenth century. I checked that this was a good approach by checking Pepys' use of sleeping with someone. You'll be saddened to know that the seventeenth century Spanish dictionary implied that Pepys was purely hetero ie when he said he slept with someone, he only meant he shared a room and maybe a bed. This is where the Medievalist propensity to languages pays off,for I don't have to just use English dictionaries (though I adore Cotgrave): I've downloaded bilingual French, Italian, Spanish and, I think, Latin as well. I ought to get German and Dutch, to be honest and might do them later. German and Dutch are not so easy for me (ie I don't know much of either, possibly I know enough, though).
I want to give you more news, but there is none. I'm willing to give my fading migraine to a new home, though, free.
December 27, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-12-28T17:44:00
Now that people are emerging from Christmasland, quite a few of them are saying to me "We missed you at the end of year party." They're being polite. And they're nice people. But I'm still telling them why I didn't go. Unintentional exclusion is never going to go away if someone isn't honest about it, sometime.
And in other news, I've done my bit of tax for the day. The rest is about 6 hours work and can wait til New Year. This means I have two books to go and then I get dinner. *This* means I have to stop watching Mission: Impossible (from 1970) with French subtitles and start being sensible again. It's over 32 degrees outside, though, and I don't feel like being sensible. What I feel like, is watching Mission: Impossible in French. Leonard Nimoy is way cool when subtitled in basic French. He would be even cooler if the subtitles matched the dialogue, I suspect, but then I wouldn't have so much fun.
I still haven't made my coffee. Water was easier, and I'm terribly lazy. My laziness is not news. Nor is it news that I do not count reading books as work. This means I ought to get back to not working.
And in other news, I've done my bit of tax for the day. The rest is about 6 hours work and can wait til New Year. This means I have two books to go and then I get dinner. *This* means I have to stop watching Mission: Impossible (from 1970) with French subtitles and start being sensible again. It's over 32 degrees outside, though, and I don't feel like being sensible. What I feel like, is watching Mission: Impossible in French. Leonard Nimoy is way cool when subtitled in basic French. He would be even cooler if the subtitles matched the dialogue, I suspect, but then I wouldn't have so much fun.
I still haven't made my coffee. Water was easier, and I'm terribly lazy. My laziness is not news. Nor is it news that I do not count reading books as work. This means I ought to get back to not working.
gillpolack @ 2013-12-28T15:38:00
Today work is like the animals parading onto the Ark: everything happens two by two. I finished two books for my novel and two novels for Aurealis (only 5 to go! plus most of the short stories) and next up are the two final books for the novel until I'm ready for the next batch of research.
From tomorrow until the second week of the New Year everything is about the Beast. almost. A few side moments for Aurealis, but mostly the Middle Ages. Lots of picky stuff. Not exciting, but wildly essential. Very good for me.
Just thinking about how good is it for me, however, drives me to drink. I'm going to put the kettle on and make a big pot of coffee.
Between me and that last pair of books comes work on tax stuff. I will need a lot of coffee before I'm done for the day.
From tomorrow until the second week of the New Year everything is about the Beast. almost. A few side moments for Aurealis, but mostly the Middle Ages. Lots of picky stuff. Not exciting, but wildly essential. Very good for me.
Just thinking about how good is it for me, however, drives me to drink. I'm going to put the kettle on and make a big pot of coffee.
Between me and that last pair of books comes work on tax stuff. I will need a lot of coffee before I'm done for the day.
December 25, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-12-26T00:57:00
You know it's my late father's 90th birthday today (because I've said so). What you didn't know, is that my oldest brother's birthday is also today, and he's very much alive.
Len, I hope you have an awesomely happy birthday - and please know that all the best of the bad jokes today are in your honour and all the worst are in Dad's.
(I don't normally talk about my siblings here, but today really is a special case.)
Len, I hope you have an awesomely happy birthday - and please know that all the best of the bad jokes today are in your honour and all the worst are in Dad's.
(I don't normally talk about my siblings here, but today really is a special case.)
On transgression
Right now I'm trying to work out transgression. Or rather, how cultures define transgression as a part of reshaping their world into something they feel safe in. Wherever I look, I see evidence of those definitions. Australian society is being reshaped into something much less ethical, for instance and much less durable and far less nice. That's not actually why I'm looking at transgression, however, and it's very disconcerting to see the echoes of my research on the news and in my email and in social media.
I'm talking about my research for the novel. I wanted to write about women. I chose the seventeenth century. And it turned out that the seventeenth century was one of those times, just like now, when the conservative forces pushed against the radical forces pushed against the system pushed against the political groups pushed against various churches pushed against... so many turbulent dynamics.
I'm not looking at political transgression right now, or social, or religious, though obviously they all play a part and they're in my mind. What I'm looking at is the conjunction of forces pushing, pushing and defining 'transgression' in ways that limited the choices of women.
I use the word 'transgression' carefully, for the ways that women were pushed back into correct behaviour defined the incorrect behaviour as transgressive. Women might be called witches, or prostitutes, or spies, for instance: all of these labels attracted punishment. Not all of these labels were self-applied. Once one had one of these labels, one entered a particular vortex that belonged to that label in that place at that moment.
There wasn't one set of reactions around transgression or perceived transgression. It was fluid, as the people who imposed the labels worked out what they wanted in their society and how they were going to achieve it. (Jobless people are 'liberated' said our PM just last week.)
The punishments I'm reading about make my own recent transgression (of talking about being Jewish, of pushing people to allow me to define how I celebrate what I celebrate and when I celebrate it) look very tiny. I'm not going to be tortured, or burned, or left to die in a gutter, or thrown out of the country. Some small bits of society may choose to leave me out of their doings (and definitely have) but I suspect that this is not my loss. Some labels are more damaging than others - it all depends on time and place.
What I'm fascinated by in my academic readings today is how people define 'transgression' carefully and reshape the world people live in using proper and improper behaviour (and the definitions thereof) as tools. If someone just doesn't fit (I'm thinking of Mrs Dewse in 1590 here, and my source is Deborah Willis' Malevolent Nurture) then they will be stretched and torn and made to fit. Dewse confessed to witchcraft with the stated intent of achieving immediate death, without torture, but her narrative wasn't transgressive enough (in fact, it didn't fit the standard narrative at all), so she was tortured until the story of transgression was stretched into place.
This kind of transgression isn't about the person who supposedly commits it. It's about the society that wants to have a particular shape so very badly that it will do vile things to achieve it. Willis suggests that the witchcraft trials are about a view of women (which is why I cited her - another book I've been reading is Briggs' Witches and Neighbours), which got me thinking about the longer view of change. The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries have always been times of change for me, when the positions women held in the Middle Ages fractured and the positions modern women hold had not yet become possible. I didn't know how this happened. Now I know one of the methods. I still need to find out why, and what this meant to individual women.
I don't want to write a depressing story about a woman like Mrs Dewse, who was trapped in the stories of others (for stories is how we create our Brave New Worlds) and who died for those stories. Nor do I want to turn it around in the generally accepted way, of creating martyrdom. Martyrdom is, after all, transgression punished where the persecutors were identified (taking the martyr's view) and the transgressor sanctified. It's one of the things that can happen when society goes very far wrong. And any society that hurts people so very much (like Australia currently, with the Intervention and the treatment of refugees) can produce martyrs. In fact, our treatment of refugees is us punishing innocents for not fitting, for being born in places to dangerous to live and for having the courage to escape. All we need to is identify one as a martyr and set up a strong public narrative and the Government's story of border transgression becomes one of innocent suffering. Many of us already see it this way, which means the step is a small one. It was not a small step for women during the witchcraft craze, and the story is only now being shifted from one about transgression to one about innocent suffering.
What I need to find out is how strong women handle the everyday stuff in this kind of society. It might give me a way of understanding how we are who we are today, and what choices are open to us as women.
Most of this won't be visible in my novel, any more than most of the feminist theory is visible in Ms Cellophane. I try to make the story what people read, and the politics and analysis are buried deep. That's what I'm doing now, working out what needs to be under the surface, as currents pushing the action in this direction or that. I was playing with notions of agency in a place of limited choices there, and, in a way, that's what I'm looking at here, too. I might have to bring a trial for witchcraft into things, though. We'll see.
I knew I had to write this book now (I really wanted to write quite a different one) I'm only just finding out why.
I'm talking about my research for the novel. I wanted to write about women. I chose the seventeenth century. And it turned out that the seventeenth century was one of those times, just like now, when the conservative forces pushed against the radical forces pushed against the system pushed against the political groups pushed against various churches pushed against... so many turbulent dynamics.
I'm not looking at political transgression right now, or social, or religious, though obviously they all play a part and they're in my mind. What I'm looking at is the conjunction of forces pushing, pushing and defining 'transgression' in ways that limited the choices of women.
I use the word 'transgression' carefully, for the ways that women were pushed back into correct behaviour defined the incorrect behaviour as transgressive. Women might be called witches, or prostitutes, or spies, for instance: all of these labels attracted punishment. Not all of these labels were self-applied. Once one had one of these labels, one entered a particular vortex that belonged to that label in that place at that moment.
There wasn't one set of reactions around transgression or perceived transgression. It was fluid, as the people who imposed the labels worked out what they wanted in their society and how they were going to achieve it. (Jobless people are 'liberated' said our PM just last week.)
The punishments I'm reading about make my own recent transgression (of talking about being Jewish, of pushing people to allow me to define how I celebrate what I celebrate and when I celebrate it) look very tiny. I'm not going to be tortured, or burned, or left to die in a gutter, or thrown out of the country. Some small bits of society may choose to leave me out of their doings (and definitely have) but I suspect that this is not my loss. Some labels are more damaging than others - it all depends on time and place.
What I'm fascinated by in my academic readings today is how people define 'transgression' carefully and reshape the world people live in using proper and improper behaviour (and the definitions thereof) as tools. If someone just doesn't fit (I'm thinking of Mrs Dewse in 1590 here, and my source is Deborah Willis' Malevolent Nurture) then they will be stretched and torn and made to fit. Dewse confessed to witchcraft with the stated intent of achieving immediate death, without torture, but her narrative wasn't transgressive enough (in fact, it didn't fit the standard narrative at all), so she was tortured until the story of transgression was stretched into place.
This kind of transgression isn't about the person who supposedly commits it. It's about the society that wants to have a particular shape so very badly that it will do vile things to achieve it. Willis suggests that the witchcraft trials are about a view of women (which is why I cited her - another book I've been reading is Briggs' Witches and Neighbours), which got me thinking about the longer view of change. The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries have always been times of change for me, when the positions women held in the Middle Ages fractured and the positions modern women hold had not yet become possible. I didn't know how this happened. Now I know one of the methods. I still need to find out why, and what this meant to individual women.
I don't want to write a depressing story about a woman like Mrs Dewse, who was trapped in the stories of others (for stories is how we create our Brave New Worlds) and who died for those stories. Nor do I want to turn it around in the generally accepted way, of creating martyrdom. Martyrdom is, after all, transgression punished where the persecutors were identified (taking the martyr's view) and the transgressor sanctified. It's one of the things that can happen when society goes very far wrong. And any society that hurts people so very much (like Australia currently, with the Intervention and the treatment of refugees) can produce martyrs. In fact, our treatment of refugees is us punishing innocents for not fitting, for being born in places to dangerous to live and for having the courage to escape. All we need to is identify one as a martyr and set up a strong public narrative and the Government's story of border transgression becomes one of innocent suffering. Many of us already see it this way, which means the step is a small one. It was not a small step for women during the witchcraft craze, and the story is only now being shifted from one about transgression to one about innocent suffering.
What I need to find out is how strong women handle the everyday stuff in this kind of society. It might give me a way of understanding how we are who we are today, and what choices are open to us as women.
Most of this won't be visible in my novel, any more than most of the feminist theory is visible in Ms Cellophane. I try to make the story what people read, and the politics and analysis are buried deep. That's what I'm doing now, working out what needs to be under the surface, as currents pushing the action in this direction or that. I was playing with notions of agency in a place of limited choices there, and, in a way, that's what I'm looking at here, too. I might have to bring a trial for witchcraft into things, though. We'll see.
I knew I had to write this book now (I really wanted to write quite a different one) I'm only just finding out why.
