Tansy Rayner Roberts's Blog, page 156

Smell Like a Monster

Who Fears Death, by Nnedi Okorafor

I've been meaning to review Who Fears Death for a month now, and not sure why I've been putting it off other than wanting, really wanting to do this extraordinary book justice by what I write. Sometimes, though, you have to just suck it up and accept that it's better to try and fail to get your thoughts across than kick the topic under the bed and ignore it.

In many ways, I feel too ignorant to properly discuss this book and what it does. I know almost nothing about Africa's history, modern culture, or any other books or stories which might put this novel better into context. One of my quite appalling realisations while reading it was that I couldn't think of a single other novel set in Africa that I have read. Ever. So there's some context for you, about the level of my literary ignorance, if nothing else!

I thought I knew a lot about this book going into it, from having read reviews and the author's own description of what the book does. So I knew that it would be hard-going, that it tackled some traumatic themes about gender issues, particularly rape and female circumcision. I knew to some extent that it was both science fiction and fantasy, and that it was most definitely not intended for younger readers. I gritted my teeth somewhat, heading into it, because I did suspect it was going to be confronting.

And yes, confronting it most certainly was. Okorafor took what I like to call the "Margo Lanagan" approach in that she introduced some of the most confronting aspects of her book in the early chapters, rather than sneaking them up on readers in the middle or end of the story. The readers are taken through the brutal gang rape of the protagonist's mother, and also a scene in which the protagonist goes through ritual circumcision in order to better "fit in" to her local community. Both scenes are incredibly hardgoing, and yet there is nothing gratuitous about either. The world of Onyesunwu, whose name means 'who fears death' is a world where rape and circumcision hugely affect the lives of women, and establishing this up front is an important aspect of the story.

Death, sexuality, love, friendship and magic are all powerful themes of this story. Onyesunwu's story is also that of her mother, who was raped as an act of war (in order to be impregnated with a mixed race baby) and yet recovered to raise her daughter and find her a home. Onyesunwu is always marked as an outsider by her skin, and as she becomes a woman discovers another hidden part of herself which marks her as an outsider and a danger to her community: she has magic. It is a long time since I have read a fantasy novel which does anything that feels new and strange with magic, and I was awed at the way that power was described in this narrative. The sense of how hard it would actually be to learn to control magic, and just how dangerous a tool it is and how ripe for corruption, is beautifully conveyed.

Quite apart from our hero being a woman, which is not at all something to forget, the use of the quest narrative in this novel is also important and very different to the norm. There is a grim certainty about it, in that Onye has visions of her own death and in many ways (including the narrative structure of the novel which begins at the end and moves back and forth at times) is on a quest towards that death. The trope of a hero fearing their death and yet succeeding is quite common in Western Literature, but here we have a hero who is certain of her impending death and yet somehow being able to function. There's an incredible courage about Onye, who never seems to rail against the unfairness of her situation, except for one moment in the story which is very understandable – that is, when the one man who could teach her about her magic refuses to take her on as a student.

Female friendship is another powerful theme here, and it is intricately tied in with sexuality, the sharing of intimate secrets, and with the circumcision that marked the beginning of Onye's own (rather than that of her mother and fathers) story. Onye becomes close friends with the girls who shared the ritual with her, and they remain a tight enough group that when she sets off on her quest to find and vanquish the evil sorcerer who fathered her, they come along to support her. I very much liked the way that the group of girls represented different dreams and attitudes, and the way that sexuality and relationships impacts on each of them differently. This social aspect of the story often added a much-needed lightness to counterpoint the darkness of Onye's journey, which is not to say that the issues were trivial – each of the girls is trying to find a path for herself and come to terms with the few options allowed to them in their society, and spending time with each of them allowed the novel to explore womanhood as a whole, rather than just through Onye's experience as a woman dealing with extraordinary circumstance.

I am reminded of how often in science fiction movies, the sexy and super-extraordinary kick butt heroine is accorded a status entirely separate from other women, even assuming that other women appear in the story at all. Their power and kickbuttness seems to stem from being alone, out of the usual context of female characters. What I love most about Who Fears Death is the way that Onye's far-from-perfect interactions with her female friends, and their loyalty to her, shows how such relationships can make a female lead stronger rather than in any way detracting from her specialness.

This is not a book that I would recommend without reservations. It is a gutsy, full-blooded read, and there is some quite horrific content above and beyond the early scenes (which would themselves be enough to put off many readers). But I do believe this is an important work of fantasy – post-future trappings aside, I read this mostly in the context of fantasy rather than science fiction – particularly in the way that it reframes the hero's journey as a task for women. There's also the issue of race, and how rare it is to find fantasy fiction that has an entire cast made up of POC, and shows that you can use many of the trappings of traditional fantasy without any reference at all to western, anglo culture. I found the post-future African setting absolutely compelling, and rich in detail. I'm the last person to be able to comment on how authentic the setting is (I don't even like the beach, the desert is my idea of hell), but it felt incredibly real and convincing.



Who Fears Death is the kind of book that blows your preconceptions about fantasy fiction out of the water, and for those who don't actually have serious trigger issues to consider, I think the overall experience is absolutely worth getting through the discomfort of its more graphic scenes. I don't imagine myself ever re-reading this book "for fun" but I was highly impressed at how I came away from the stpry feeling uplifted and empowered, despite the grim nature of the content. Onyesunwu is not a heroine I will ever forget.

Food for Thought Friday

One of my favourite fragments of the internet this week is an interview with Tricia Sullivan, one of those authors I've been meaning to get my hands on from her debut novel, though somehow I never have. The interview is fantastic and very inspiring – I very much sympathised with her thoughts on Racefail, and how the way she writes and thinks about her writing has been powerfully shifted thanks to her observation of that huge online discussion which is often mischaracterised as having "achieved nothing". I was also very interested in Tricia's discussion of the Clarke Award and gender balance, and how she now questions the (male-dominated) definitions of the genre:

Since having kids, my view of womanhood has changed considerably. I'm conscious of the fact that my concerns are different from classically 'masculine' concerns, and are inadequately handled by much of the SF that is out there by male authors. If I want SF that truly appeals to me, I have to hope for more women to come into the field. In the same way, we need more POC…well, really any POC would be nice, actually.

As with racism, I think sexism nowadays is often unconscious. People won't say to themselves 'I won't try that book because it's by a woman,' but they will say, 'I won't try that book because I like the ones with x, y, and z in them and this book has got j and m.' And how can you argue with that? People can and do read what they want to. But I think that if you are a white male and everything you read is written by a white male, then it might be worth asking yourself if you shouldn't consider expanding your tastes somewhat. Some tastes are acquired, but you can't acquire a taste for something that isn't on the shelves.

It's so refreshing to see someone discussing the "well women write less SF so obviously have less representation in SF awards" concept but rather than leaving it at that (so that the responsibility falls on the female authors who don't write SF or not enough of it) actively talks about why this might be the case, and why, as SF publishing shrinks, it is the women who get squeezed out first.

This topic was picked up over at Torque Control, both the lack of female winners of the Clarke Award but also the minute number of female SF authors published in Britain, and why this might be happening. The discussion in the comments has become rather epic, and while I don't agree with quite a few of the opinions expressed in said comments (you can probably guess which ones as you read through them) I think the conversation itself is important.

While I'm on a gender theme (heh, you know it's so unusual around here) I also ran across an excellent post at Geek Feminism about the culture of hating female characters in geek/fan communities. This is a topic I have seen discussed in various places this year – Sarah Rees Brennan has been particularly vocal at the criticisms she receives about her heroine, Mae, as compared to the general response to her hero, Nick (hint: he behaves far more badly and is a million times sluttier, but she gets the vitriole for kissing more than one person, for expressing opinions, etc.)

The article is rather brilliant in the way it dissects the kind of violent and ugly fan response to Gwen from Torchwood and River Song from Doctor Who, and is particularly pointed in the way it compares qualities they share with the male leads of those TV shows, and the way those qualities attract far greater negative response when displayed by a woman. I hadn't even realised how many similaries there were between Gwen and Captain Jack, though I have long been uncomfortable with the invective used against her character, and not only by the Jack/Ianto shippers, though there is a long tradition of misogyny from slash fans, who often view female lead characters as a threat to their preferred pairing. I remember that when I was hanging out on the edged of the Harry Potter fandom, the levels of hatred and vitriole pointed at Ginny, Hermione and Tonks was somewhat boggling, even before the epilogue came along.

(I have a theory that people are more likely to blame the perceived failings of female fictional characters on the characters themselves rather than the author/writers, and this is certainly a prevailing trend in many fandoms)

The article at Geek Feminism very cleverly addresses the glorification of loudly despising female characters, and the way this can actually have an effect in real life as well, in cultures where women often get to "play with the boys" by dumping on other members of their own gender. Also the frustrating double standard where female fictional characters are often simultaneously criticised for acting "like men" as well as acting "like women".

Food for thought! And now I go to clean the house.

Telegram from the Battlefront

I try very hard not to use hugely exaggerated war-like metaphors (deathmarch, and the like) when dealing with even the toughest part of this writing job. Cos, you know, however much it is building my stress levels and doing my head in, it's still a job that can be done from a comfy chair with a hot cup of tea at my elbow.

But right now, I am in the middle of a battle. Not a metaphorical battle with the book – a battle inside the book.

I don't think it's a spoiler to say that the final act of Creature Court Book Three comprises of an enormous action set piece. Involving all the characters from the previous 2 3/4 books whom I haven't already killed off. (damn it, why didn't I kill more characters earlier) It's huge and messy and complicated, and though I have ultimately planned this one down to the wire (which is to say written down what happens when it explodes in my head) it keeps changing on me. There is one character in particular who seems to be some kind of literary wild card. He laughs in the face of plot, and has a tendency to try to kill people unexpectedly, or inspire people to kill him at precisely the wrong moment.

This is someone who was going to be redeemed and die heroically, and instead managed to betray everyone, seize power, leave his closest friends bleeding in a pile and go skipping off into the sunset. He was supposed to be a minor character. Minor characters cannot be trusted, people! They swallow books whole!

And after spending the morning immersed in said battle, it's rather hard to emerge, eat lunch, do laundry, cook dinner and take my daughter to gymnastics. Cos, you know. Buildings to destroy, blood to spill, sky to fall. I think I'm going to be cranky and irritable until I get to the end of this draft!

I'm hoping to hit that point by the end of this weekend, just so I can breathe, send the damaged, leaky thing off to my Swedish writing fairy for a gently critical read (I can't take more than that right now, there might be CRYING) and race through those copy edits that landed on my desk yesterday, before I start patching the holes and making the Book Three manuscript robust enough to take a Good Firm Edit. Because, you know. I want this one to be good. No pressure on myself here or anything, but there's no point in writing the third book in a trilogy unless it can be better than the two that led it there, and also pay off everything you've set up.

It can be done. It will be done. I just have to keep my head down until the explosions die down, the smoke clears, and I get to find out who made it to the end. The really sad thing is, I think I've written all the sex scenes for this one. No fun stuff to reward myself with once I'm finished being Dr Big Mean Writer. Until, you know, I start the next book…

Galactic Suburbia Spoilerific Book Club – LIAR – Show Notes

Our special spoilerific book club episode of Galactic Suburbia is available for streaming, download and at iTunes! We separated this from our other episodes so that people who haven't read the featured novel – Liar by Justine Larbalestier – could easily skip it.

SHOW NOTES:

Consider yourself warned. This is an incredibly spoilery discussion of LIAR by Justine Larbalestier. It's not a little bit spoilery. It's a LOT spoilery. And if you don't believe us that this is the kind of book that you really truly don't want to be spoiled for, consider the facts:

1) We invented the Galactic Spoilerific Book Club purely to discuss this book

2) We actually feel a bit uncomfortable even mentioning how much you don't want to be spoiled for this book, because that in itself might mess with your reading experience

3) You trust us, right?

If on the other hand you have read LIAR by Justine Larbalestier, come on by and listen to us flap our hands as we try to articulate just what's going on in this book.

Also, stretching back into the mists of time before Galactic Suburbia existed (hard to imagine, I know) check out Alex, Alisa and Tansy podcasting back in 2008 with our friend Kathryn, on the (then) entire bibliography of works by Justine. Yes, it's a Larbalestpalooza!

Write Your Fantasy Novel

It occurs to me that I should actually mention that I'm teaching a day-long fantasy novel writing course in Hobart next month! Because it's October, which means November is actually next month. The course is being run through the Tasmanian Writer's Centre



THE FANTASY NOVEL WITH TANSY RAYNER ROBERTS

Hobart: Saturday 6 November 10am-4pm

Cost: $55 for members, $88 for non-members

This fantasy workshop will take you through planning, writing and revising a fantasy novel with a particular focus on character and word building exercises. The course includes discussion of the publishing industry, and how to plot your path to publication.

What to bring: Your manuscript if you already have one in progress and a synopsis or chapter samples. Bring a laptop or pens and paper for writing exercises.

If you're a Hobart resident (or near enough) then worth checking out the rest of the program at the TWC site – Laura Goodin is teaching a fantasy short story course this weekend!

Brought to You By the Baby Clamped to My Leg

I'm so behind on my life right now that I'm only putting up my Friday post of cool links now! On the bright side, I am deep into my final run on Book Three, so I have plenty of excuses for… well, everything. That, and my baby has now decided that life is incomplete unless she is clinging to me every waking moment, which has put something of a crimp in my weekend house cleaning attempts. I'm getting good at typing one-handed, though.

First, if you weren't reading Karen Healey's reviewathon, I had a guest post up in which I reviewed All Things (Ancient) Roman, a topic very close to my brain right now as I've been writing a bunch of short stories inspired by my love of that time period.

More talk on the internet about how authors use social media. Sarah Prineas says "I will be your friend but I will not be your fan" and complains especially about author shilling. Catherynne Valente responds with a post in defence of using social media to promote your books, that I think agrees more with Prineas than on first appearances (basically they are both against obnoxiousness).

io9 reports on a debate between Margaret Atwood and Ursula LeGuin on the topic of science fiction, which mostly makes me wish the thing was available as a podcast.

Kate Elliott talks about bigotry.

Random Alex reviews a Tor double: Tiptree and Russ together in one spine!

Galactic Suburbia Episode 17 Show Notes

New episode is up for download, streaming or on iTunes.

In which we talk about awesome women, excellent short stories, and make Alisa throw away a book! Our pet topic is film-to-book, book-to-film and why you'd want to move a story from format to format.

News

The Winners of the British Fantasy Awards 2010

FemSpec: announcement of new feminist press

365 Days of Women Writers blog

New podcast: Helen Merrick and Tama Leaver

What have we been reading/listening to?

Tansy: Diana Comet, Zombies v. Unicorns

Alisa: Watching: Moon. Listening: Bad Film Diaries (discussion on "identify") also first ep of Pangalactic Interwebs. Embargoed Reading sigh. For Aurealis Awards and TPP 2011 Toss out for the week: Succubus in the City

Alex: Subterranean (spring and summer), Is Anybody out There? (ed. Nick Gevers and Marty Halpern), Glitter Rose, Marianne de Pierres.

Pet Subject: book –> film –> book

- why make films of books?

- what makes a good film adaptation?

- conversely, why make books of films, why do they get less attention, can they be as good as the film?

Please send feedback to galacticsuburbia@gmail.com

No One Does It Better (than the Birds of Prey)

The internet is full of many wondrous things, and this is one of them.

(via i09)

Zombies v. Unicorns, edited by Holly Black & Justine Larbalestier

This is undoubtedly the YA anthology of the year. The line up of authors is extraordinary, and the stories are consistently good. It helps that it's a very meme-able anthology concept as well, with authors, editors and readers alike picking a side in the "war" between Team Unicorn and Team Zombie. I was rather pleased coming into this that I didn't have a side – swinging voters always have more power! But in fact, Team Unicorn and Team Zombie is less about which fantasy creature you love and adore, and more about which one you think is totally uncool.

In essence, Zombies V. Unicorns is an anthology about prejudice. Unicorns and zombies are both fantasy tropes which tend to provoke strong reactions in people – of a yuchhhh variety. Apart from a few notable exceptions, I've generally been in Camp Zombies and Unicorns Both Suck, which makes this anthology extra useful as it's a book for people who thought they hated one, the other or both, which is full of great, vibrant stories designed to make you change your mind.

Having said all that, counting the seven stories I really liked out of the anthology, I have four unicorns to three zombies, and three out of my top four are farting rainbows. Unicorns for the win!

One of the most enjoyable aspects of the anthology is the editorial voices, who bicker and bitch their way through the story notes, and mock each other's choices. It's great fun to read, though I was very cranky that one of their amusing interchanges spoiled a twist element from Margo Lanagan's story. Don't read the intro note to hers until after the story itself!

My favourites:

Alaya Dawn Johnson's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" was a gut-wrenching story of fear and love, showing the point of view of a zombie with brains (not the edible kind), and how a functional, intelligent zombie might be very like a serial killer. Icky, powerful stuff, with a strong thread of unrequited love which got under my skin.

Margo Lanagan's "A Thousand Flowers" looks at the medieval tradition of unicorn stories, and tells a tale of courtly love and a disgraced, pregnant lady through the eyes of three different narrators. It's a beautifully written piece that unfolds slowly.

Diana Peterfreund's "The Care and Feeding of Your Baby Unicorn" comes from the same world as her novels Rampant and Ascendant, and the story "Errant" which appeared in Kiss Me Deadly. In this, she tells the story of Wen, a girl with unicorn-hunting heritage whose family refused to let her go to be trained properly in Rome, thanks to their religious beliefs. Wen is charged to care for a helpless infant unicorn at a time when her whole town is being terrorised by a larger, deadlier example of the species. Caring for the unicorn means lying to her family and possibly rearing a monster who will turn on her… it's a powerful, page-turning character story, and I was disappointed when it came to an end.

Meg Cabot's "Princess Prettypants" makes fun of the kind of unicorn any right-thinking hipster loves to hate – up to and including rainbow-coloured farts! It's a very cool teen story about friendship and loyalty and bad choices. Those of you who were angry and frustrated at the recent don't-sext-your-boyfriend-or-we'll-shame-you ad campaign will enjoy a particular aspect of this story, in which one girl and her unicorn help a friend to get revenge against a badly behaved dude at a party.

I also really enjoyed Naomi Novik's "Purity Test," Maureen Johnson's "Children of the Revolution" and Scott Westerfeld's "Innoculata."

Not only do I recommend this book heartily to fans of good YA spec fic, regardless of their opinions of zombies and unicorns, I recommend you buy it in hardcover. It's not that expensive, and the production is gorgeous.