S.B. Stewart-Laing's Blog, page 10
March 5, 2014
The Author vs the Work
'The artist usually sets out — or used to — to point a moral and adorn a tale. The tale, however, points the other way, as a rule. Two blankly opposing morals, the artist's and the tale's. Never trust the artist. Trust the tale. The proper function of a critic is to save the tale from the artist who created it.'
— D.H. Lawrence
Confession of the week: in defiance of all context, I like H.P. Lovecraft's work.
My ancestors hail from five different continents, and some of them weren't even human. Given what we know of H.P. Lovecraft's distaste for racial and cultural diversity, I think my very existence would give the man a heart attack. But whatever nastiness was simmering in his personal thoughts, I do enjoy his work.
This got me wondering about how do we decide when an author's personal views are relevant to whether we like their work, or how we understand their work? Honestly, I don't know the answer. On some level, I think that once a story-- a movie, book, or the like-- is out in the world, creator intent means little to nothing. The audience individually and collectively comes to an understanding (or understandings) of what the story means, and that interaction between the story and the audience is what makes storytelling such an integral part of human culture.
I am not a philosopher, or literary critic, but my personal feeling is that the author's views are relevant when they show up in the work. For example, Orson Scott Card has been criticised for his support of laws persecuting same-sex relationships, this isn't a theme that shows up in his science fiction work. Ender's Game stands on its own as an excellent and thought-provoking science fiction novel regardless of Card's screeds against LGBT people.
On the other hand, there are many times you 'can't un-see' something about an author which adds another layer of meaning to their work. When I first read Lovecraft's stories, I knew nothing about the man himself, and attributed the racist views and language in some of his stories to his first-person narrators. Since his characters are not Fictionland's most appealing or well-adjusted citizens, I was not deeply bothered-- this seemed like part and parcel of characters with whom one probably wouldn't want to be stuck in an elevator. Now, with the knowledge that they are probably channeling Lovecraft's own views, the stories take on an additional shade of discomfort.
How do you feel about separating (or not separating) the author and their work?
— D.H. Lawrence
Confession of the week: in defiance of all context, I like H.P. Lovecraft's work.
My ancestors hail from five different continents, and some of them weren't even human. Given what we know of H.P. Lovecraft's distaste for racial and cultural diversity, I think my very existence would give the man a heart attack. But whatever nastiness was simmering in his personal thoughts, I do enjoy his work.
This got me wondering about how do we decide when an author's personal views are relevant to whether we like their work, or how we understand their work? Honestly, I don't know the answer. On some level, I think that once a story-- a movie, book, or the like-- is out in the world, creator intent means little to nothing. The audience individually and collectively comes to an understanding (or understandings) of what the story means, and that interaction between the story and the audience is what makes storytelling such an integral part of human culture.
I am not a philosopher, or literary critic, but my personal feeling is that the author's views are relevant when they show up in the work. For example, Orson Scott Card has been criticised for his support of laws persecuting same-sex relationships, this isn't a theme that shows up in his science fiction work. Ender's Game stands on its own as an excellent and thought-provoking science fiction novel regardless of Card's screeds against LGBT people.
On the other hand, there are many times you 'can't un-see' something about an author which adds another layer of meaning to their work. When I first read Lovecraft's stories, I knew nothing about the man himself, and attributed the racist views and language in some of his stories to his first-person narrators. Since his characters are not Fictionland's most appealing or well-adjusted citizens, I was not deeply bothered-- this seemed like part and parcel of characters with whom one probably wouldn't want to be stuck in an elevator. Now, with the knowledge that they are probably channeling Lovecraft's own views, the stories take on an additional shade of discomfort.
How do you feel about separating (or not separating) the author and their work?
March 3, 2014
Playing At Oppression
Last week, a regularly controversial conservative blogger managed to once again cause an internet fight, this time by calling out the surprising number of faux homophobic hate 'crimes' that have been generating ire among the various social justice warriors of the internet. Although I disagree with the blogger that these hoaxes* and the initial outrage they generated are part of some sort of gay agenda**, he did catch some interesting points. As the blogger pointed out, a distinctive feature of the hoaxes is that they slot perfectly into a pre-defined narrative (it's actually a fairly for faux hate crimes, which are unfortunately a thing).
What these nuggets of Internet Outrage Machine Bait have in common are that they slot right into commonly accepted, easy narratives:
They've got a faceless or stereotypical villain;The incident is about an individual bullying, not broken systems;The act is explicitly aggressive and unambiguously bigotedThe end result is an (alleged) injustice that does not ask us to think. We can feel righteous outrage without having to examine wider problems in our society or question our own prejudices or views.
I bring this up because these acts of fake bigotry bear a striking resemblance to how many writers handle-- or fail to handle-- oppressive societies in Fictionland. Instead of portraying systemic problems, or the society that spawned those inequalities in the first place, they focus on random people being randomly mean, usually to the main character. There is no indication that the society holds deeply ingrained prejudices or enforces harsh double standards that have an impact on the daily lives of the people who inhabit it.
Second, there is no emotional ambiguity here. The villain is faceless, nameless, a walking stereotype calculated to inspire rage, free of complications. In real life, unfortunately, it's often not that simple. Systemic oppression gets everywhere and penetrates many aspects of a society. The bigoted acts can be subtle and hard to prove and constant, wearing. The aggressor can be from another oppressed group. The aggressor can be a supposed friend, an otherwise competent and trusted colleague, a family member. The aggressor might not even be aware they said or did something hurtful because those ideas and behaviours have been ingrained to the point of unthinking acceptance.
If you're going to write a story set in a society with deep-seated problems (which all societies have), you need to portray these problems as wide-reaching, rather than imitating what you think prejudice 'should' look like.
*While many of the sources he cites are correct, there are also some glaring fact-checking failures re: Matthew Shepard.
**As a bisexual, I'm not invited to the gay conspiracy meetings, so I can't actually confirm or deny anything on the subject.
What these nuggets of Internet Outrage Machine Bait have in common are that they slot right into commonly accepted, easy narratives:
They've got a faceless or stereotypical villain;The incident is about an individual bullying, not broken systems;The act is explicitly aggressive and unambiguously bigotedThe end result is an (alleged) injustice that does not ask us to think. We can feel righteous outrage without having to examine wider problems in our society or question our own prejudices or views.
I bring this up because these acts of fake bigotry bear a striking resemblance to how many writers handle-- or fail to handle-- oppressive societies in Fictionland. Instead of portraying systemic problems, or the society that spawned those inequalities in the first place, they focus on random people being randomly mean, usually to the main character. There is no indication that the society holds deeply ingrained prejudices or enforces harsh double standards that have an impact on the daily lives of the people who inhabit it.
Second, there is no emotional ambiguity here. The villain is faceless, nameless, a walking stereotype calculated to inspire rage, free of complications. In real life, unfortunately, it's often not that simple. Systemic oppression gets everywhere and penetrates many aspects of a society. The bigoted acts can be subtle and hard to prove and constant, wearing. The aggressor can be from another oppressed group. The aggressor can be a supposed friend, an otherwise competent and trusted colleague, a family member. The aggressor might not even be aware they said or did something hurtful because those ideas and behaviours have been ingrained to the point of unthinking acceptance.
If you're going to write a story set in a society with deep-seated problems (which all societies have), you need to portray these problems as wide-reaching, rather than imitating what you think prejudice 'should' look like.
*While many of the sources he cites are correct, there are also some glaring fact-checking failures re: Matthew Shepard.
**As a bisexual, I'm not invited to the gay conspiracy meetings, so I can't actually confirm or deny anything on the subject.
February 28, 2014
Plot From Setting
Although I am usually the 'plot person' of my writing duo, my other favourite activity is worldbuilding. Partly this is because I enjoy research, and partly this is because I'm attracted to the causal nature of worldbuilding. The world in many ways drives the creation of the plot. And when your well of ideas is running dry, your world can refill it. A fully realised fictional world is full of inherent conflict, just waiting to be exploited for your story. If you're using a historical setting, much of the work is done for you. Once you've picked a historical setting, it's research time. With dedication-- some times and places may require more effort to study than others-- one can find out all about that society, from the overarching moral struggles of the time to the daily life of its ordinary citizens. It will take some digging to get past the glossy 'generally accepted narrative' to the more complex truths beneath, but it's very worth the effort and is a wonderful wellspring of original writing ideas.
For a fictional world, you will have to start from scratch. There is no 'right' or 'wrong' way to go about worldbuilding, but the rule is definitely that more complete is better. Remember that while not everything you come up with will necessarily make it on the page-- nor does it have to-- it's good to know the answers just in case. It's also important to remember that common genre tropes, for example, a medieval pan-European aesthetic for high fantasy, are simply common tropes, not requirements of the genre. No rule says you can't have a pan-Asian world, or a psychic landscape of humanity's collective dreams, or whatever else your fancy might desire. What's important is that you use your imagination to answer both the big questions about your world-- its history, its politics, its climate, its cultures, and its ecosystems, and the little questions about how everyday life works. In the course of doing this, you will probably see story seeds all over, just waiting to be developed.
February 26, 2014
Externalise This
Once again, I ran into another article criticising the film Frozen. Whatever you thought of the movie, I take issue with the idea that the character's 'makeover' after she unleashes her ice superpowers is 'un-feminist'. (The idea that a woman changing her appearance towards a sexier or more conventionally attractive aesthetic is inherently un-feminist is a separate can of worms, to be addressed in another post).But my main point is that having a character change their physical presentation after a big emotional shift is a time-honored trope in visual media, regardless of character gender-- TVTropes has a whole series of them for hair alone. While a novel allows us to get inside of a character's head and explore their emotional lives in depth, media such as TV, movies, and graphic novels/comic books rely on the visuals to get nuance across. The audience picks up cues from the character's body language, clothing, and general presentation to fill in information about their internal life. This can also be true of secondary characters in novels, who are described only through the eyes of a viewpoint character, but once again we still have that character as an interpretive filter.
For visual media, character development has to be shown on the outside, and one way to do this is to have the character subtly or dramatically change their appearance. I've also argued before that characters can be seen to be consciously or subconsciously to messages in their society about how they are 'supposed' to look, or the subtext conveyed by certain choices concerning their appearance. The representation needs to be judged on how well it conveys the interior life of the character.
February 24, 2014
A Product of Its Time?
In a piece for the Atlantic, Noah Burlatsky argues that saying a work is a 'product of its time' is not just a lazy way to dismiss bigotry when it crops up in historic works, but also a disservice to the diversity of viewpoints people hold at any one point in history. He points out that, for example, treating racism by white 1920's authors as the standard of their time period dismisses the entire Harlem Renaissance.
Overall, I agree with Burlatsky's assessment. Just because something was written by someone with a different context and value system does not mean that the views expressed in their writing are off-limits for critique. And uncritically excusing something as a 'product of its time' shuts down relevant and fruitful discussions about the work and its meaning. In cases where a work failed to age or travel well, it can be interesting to study the dissonance between what the author most likely intended (or says they intended) and how the story comes across to the reader. But ultimately, a work should stand on its own. If it needs a pile of excuses to make it palatable to the majority of the audience, it has failed the test of tapping into the more universal aspects of the human experience.
At the same time, context does add meaning. Some morals, symbolism and nuances of language have a hard time crossing the cultural boundaries. Furthermore, understanding the author's world can shed a new and interesting light on a work. And sometimes it's worth examining authorial intent and context before leaping to a knee-jerk response: for example, a word may have taken on a derogatory meaning (or lost it's punch) between the time when the author wrote and when you are reading. Or maybe a seemingly obvious solution to a plot point was unthinkable-- or even illegal-- at the time and place where the author wrote.
In the end, I think discussing historical works and thinking about the context in which they were written lays the groundwork for a more nuanced understanding of a story.
Overall, I agree with Burlatsky's assessment. Just because something was written by someone with a different context and value system does not mean that the views expressed in their writing are off-limits for critique. And uncritically excusing something as a 'product of its time' shuts down relevant and fruitful discussions about the work and its meaning. In cases where a work failed to age or travel well, it can be interesting to study the dissonance between what the author most likely intended (or says they intended) and how the story comes across to the reader. But ultimately, a work should stand on its own. If it needs a pile of excuses to make it palatable to the majority of the audience, it has failed the test of tapping into the more universal aspects of the human experience.
At the same time, context does add meaning. Some morals, symbolism and nuances of language have a hard time crossing the cultural boundaries. Furthermore, understanding the author's world can shed a new and interesting light on a work. And sometimes it's worth examining authorial intent and context before leaping to a knee-jerk response: for example, a word may have taken on a derogatory meaning (or lost it's punch) between the time when the author wrote and when you are reading. Or maybe a seemingly obvious solution to a plot point was unthinkable-- or even illegal-- at the time and place where the author wrote.
In the end, I think discussing historical works and thinking about the context in which they were written lays the groundwork for a more nuanced understanding of a story.
February 6, 2014
Quick Blog Hiatus
Life has gotten madly busy for the past several weeks, so I will be taking a wee break from blogging (now that my 'rainy day' stash of blog posts has run out).
We will return to our regularly scheduled programming on February 25. In the meantime, you can join me in anticipating the springtime by enjoying this video of chicks hatching.
We will return to our regularly scheduled programming on February 25. In the meantime, you can join me in anticipating the springtime by enjoying this video of chicks hatching.
January 31, 2014
Personality versus Pathology
Usually I enjoy the podcast Writing Excuses-- it's fun, quick, and delivers good thought nuggets from successful writers. So I was intrigued when I stumbled across one on abnormal psychology. Neurodiversity and mental illness are underrepresented in fiction, so my Lady Life Partner and I were eager to hear what the postcasters had to say.We ended up turning it off a couple minutes in, fuming.
First, a mini-rant: No one is an expert on everything, but we live in the information age. You can literally check PubMed or Wikipedia from the middle of the Sahara. Saying you 'don't know much' about a topic doesn't give you a free pass to spew hurtful misinformation about an already marginalised group. A well-educated person with virtually unlimited access to libraries, the internet, and live experts failing to use those resources to fact-check is pure laziness.
[/mini-rant]
One of the fundamental misconceptions put forth in the podcast is that mental illness and neurological differences are inextricably entwined with personality, in the sense that these illnesses are part of a 'spectrum of personality types' and that 'illness' was an arbitrary line created when the extreme personality traits interfere with the person's functioning and happiness.
Actually, as someone with a science background and a highly intimate knowledge of my own previously-malfunctioning neurochemical circuitry, I'd say the first step in writing a character with a mental illness (or other neurological issue) is to separate their personality from their pathology. Some psychiatric disorders, most notably OCD, are 'ego-dystonic', meaning that the person with the disorder is fully aware that their thought processes and behaviour are abnormal and not fitting with their real personality. Bluntly, denying that someone has a unique self separate from temporarily malfunctioning neurotransmitters is deeply dehumanising, turning someone from a person with an ailment to a manifestation of their illness with no thoughts or feelings of their own.
That attitude-- that someone's personality must be entirely consumed or in line with their illness-- is highly pervasive in Fictionland. We need more characters who exist as complete people and struggle with illnesses that intrude on their self-perception. We need more characters whose personalities run at surprising right angles to whatever is glitching in their synapses. We need more characters whose turning point involves taking control of their health-- brain included-- rather than tossing their meds in the trash. In short, characters who live with their illness, but are not defined by it.
January 29, 2014
Character Self-Awareness
Confession: before this month, I had not read Robinson Crusoe. In fact, the only reason I picked it up was because I found out that the character Friday was in fact supposed to be Kali'na, which activated my self-centered interest (there aren't a lot of us in Fictionland).I found the novel to be in the 'so okay it's average' territory on the whole*, but there's something for modern writers to learn about character development. Namely, your character can get a lot more leeway for their negative traits if they express a high degree of self-awareness.
Robinson, the title character and narrator of the novel, could have turned into something monumentally obnoxious. After all, he spends the first several chapters of the novel being ungrateful, inconsiderate, incompetent, and generally selfish. What salvages him as a narrator is that he is fully aware of his past shortcomings and openly acknowledges them to the audience. In this way, we are invited to track and analyse his growth as a character as well as watching it in sequence within the narrative.
The power of self-awareness in a character is not restricted to those who can acknowledge their shortcomings and strive for self-improvement. Characters who are unapologetic for their bad behaviour can be fascinating, especially in genres such as horror and thrillers in which psychological suspense thrives. And as I've mentioned before, there's also an element of wish-fulfillment-- the character has acknowledged their wrongdoing, so it's okay to enjoy doing all the socially unacceptable stuff we secretly wish we could get away with.
Obviously, there are situations where the character must utterly lack self-awarness, or where their blind spots or dramatically warped perceptions are critical to the plot. However, it is worth considering that your characters may benefit from having insight into themselves.
*One of my favourite authors, James Joyce, honed in on the glorification of colonialism via Crusoe 'civilising' Friday, so I'm not going to rehash his points.
January 27, 2014
Samsies
People who are attracted to people of the same gender have been around a really long time, probably since before our specific species of hominid has been around*. Not that you'd know that by looking at historical fiction, historical fantasy, or stories set in history-influenced alternate realities. That said, there's more to representing LGBT characters in historical settings than just letting characters born of modern views on gender and sexuality loose in the world of your novel.
In their hilarious and informative book How Not to Write a Novel , Howard Mittlemark and Sandra Newman caution that one should 'not use [gay characters in a historical setting] as a way to demonstrate your other characters' tolerance, which they would not feel [emphasis original]. Also refrain from remarks about the gay samurai's mincing walk or interest in clothes'.
While I think the second sentence is spot on, particularly in societies where gender is simply presented differently, I'd also like to elaborate on Mittlemark and Newman's first point, as the authors are actually addressing several issues simultaneously.
First is the 'accessorising with political correctness' problem, which crops up across many genres. Bottom line, if a character exists to show how benevolent your main characters are, either get rid of them, or better yet, develop the tension between the privileged and marginalised character and explore the power dynamic in more depth.
Second, and more specifically, there was a lot more variation in attitudes towards various genders and sexual orientations throughout history. For example, North American cultures as diverse as the Lakota, Maidu, Navajo and Cheyanne had special and celebrated roles within their societies for those who did not conform to gender or sexual orientation norms. Meanwhile, ancient Chinese society prioritised reproduction, and tolerated same-gender relationships as long as the participants also had children with other partners. Orthodox Judiasm has always forbidden same-sex relationships between men, particularly Levite priests. In 18th century England, attitudes were split by social class, with the poor and working classes being largely tolerant, while the upper classes were more vocally homophobic.
In the end, I'd encourage more LGBT main characters in historical settings, but your character needs to be first and foremost an individual, and secondly a citizen of your world. Their self-identity and their interaction with the society around them will be shaped largely by the attitudes in your society.
*All the cool vertebrates are doing it.
In their hilarious and informative book How Not to Write a Novel , Howard Mittlemark and Sandra Newman caution that one should 'not use [gay characters in a historical setting] as a way to demonstrate your other characters' tolerance, which they would not feel [emphasis original]. Also refrain from remarks about the gay samurai's mincing walk or interest in clothes'.
While I think the second sentence is spot on, particularly in societies where gender is simply presented differently, I'd also like to elaborate on Mittlemark and Newman's first point, as the authors are actually addressing several issues simultaneously.
First is the 'accessorising with political correctness' problem, which crops up across many genres. Bottom line, if a character exists to show how benevolent your main characters are, either get rid of them, or better yet, develop the tension between the privileged and marginalised character and explore the power dynamic in more depth.
Second, and more specifically, there was a lot more variation in attitudes towards various genders and sexual orientations throughout history. For example, North American cultures as diverse as the Lakota, Maidu, Navajo and Cheyanne had special and celebrated roles within their societies for those who did not conform to gender or sexual orientation norms. Meanwhile, ancient Chinese society prioritised reproduction, and tolerated same-gender relationships as long as the participants also had children with other partners. Orthodox Judiasm has always forbidden same-sex relationships between men, particularly Levite priests. In 18th century England, attitudes were split by social class, with the poor and working classes being largely tolerant, while the upper classes were more vocally homophobic.
In the end, I'd encourage more LGBT main characters in historical settings, but your character needs to be first and foremost an individual, and secondly a citizen of your world. Their self-identity and their interaction with the society around them will be shaped largely by the attitudes in your society.
*All the cool vertebrates are doing it.
January 24, 2014
Winnowing Criticism
In the early stages of writing, Michael and I took to the internet-- specifically writer workshopping sites-- to get feedback about our story. The responses we received were invaluable tools for telling us what was working and what was frustrating, clunky, or out-of-place. It was also an exercise in filtering through the comments to separate the helpful insights from the not-so-helpful.
Given my background as an evolutionary biologist and data scientist, I'm also a huge fan of classifying things. In the interests of classifying, here are the types of comments I've encountered.
The constructive criticism: This is gold dust. This commenter has identified what can be improved about your work, and even left suggestions. Even if you don't agree with their point of view, their comments can get your brain juices flowing. Sometimes these comments can sting, especially when someone has located a flaw in your story with laser precision. The key here (learn from my experiences!) is to thank them for taking the time to give you feedback, then let the criticism 'cool' before going back and considering revisions. It's also important to remember raves can be just as helpful as pointing out flaws-- after all, you want to know what you're getting right!The nitpicker: This person can be absurdly useful, absurdly annoying, or both. Michael and I were lucky enough to encounter someone who spotted things like anachronistic tools lurking in odd places. Don't expect big-picture feedback, since these folks will be fixated on the details, but take full advantage of their error-spotting skills.The missed mark: These commenters are generally well-intentioned, but are lacking in some critical insight. Sometimes it's interesting to get an alternate interpretation of your work, and sometimes it's just confusing or totally off base. Thank them and move along.The single-minded: Everyone's got an agenda, but this person has no 'off' switch, regardless of relevance to the topic. Usually, leaving them be is the best option. Occasionally, if their agenda is offensive, I'd recommend reporting them to a moderator and/or removing their comment from public view if needed.The troll: Enjoys stirring up trouble for trouble's sake. Enjoy a link to a hilarious video Isabel Fay and Cleverpie that may be the best response ever to one of these. Don't engage. Delete comments as needed.The hater: unlike the troll, who spews bile randomly in search of attention, this is a genuine bigot who feels the need to share. Report and block immediately--you're not being 'sensitive'Once you feel more comfortable giving and receiving feedback on your work, you'll find it's a wonderful resource for improving your writing skills and telling the best story you can.
Given my background as an evolutionary biologist and data scientist, I'm also a huge fan of classifying things. In the interests of classifying, here are the types of comments I've encountered.
The constructive criticism: This is gold dust. This commenter has identified what can be improved about your work, and even left suggestions. Even if you don't agree with their point of view, their comments can get your brain juices flowing. Sometimes these comments can sting, especially when someone has located a flaw in your story with laser precision. The key here (learn from my experiences!) is to thank them for taking the time to give you feedback, then let the criticism 'cool' before going back and considering revisions. It's also important to remember raves can be just as helpful as pointing out flaws-- after all, you want to know what you're getting right!The nitpicker: This person can be absurdly useful, absurdly annoying, or both. Michael and I were lucky enough to encounter someone who spotted things like anachronistic tools lurking in odd places. Don't expect big-picture feedback, since these folks will be fixated on the details, but take full advantage of their error-spotting skills.The missed mark: These commenters are generally well-intentioned, but are lacking in some critical insight. Sometimes it's interesting to get an alternate interpretation of your work, and sometimes it's just confusing or totally off base. Thank them and move along.The single-minded: Everyone's got an agenda, but this person has no 'off' switch, regardless of relevance to the topic. Usually, leaving them be is the best option. Occasionally, if their agenda is offensive, I'd recommend reporting them to a moderator and/or removing their comment from public view if needed.The troll: Enjoys stirring up trouble for trouble's sake. Enjoy a link to a hilarious video Isabel Fay and Cleverpie that may be the best response ever to one of these. Don't engage. Delete comments as needed.The hater: unlike the troll, who spews bile randomly in search of attention, this is a genuine bigot who feels the need to share. Report and block immediately--you're not being 'sensitive'Once you feel more comfortable giving and receiving feedback on your work, you'll find it's a wonderful resource for improving your writing skills and telling the best story you can.
