Ruthanna Emrys's Blog, page 7
July 5, 2014
Functional Definitions of Genre
Sarah and I were talking in the car today, on our way to the "visit a place that's too expensive" step of furniture-buying. (This was not an intentional step, just a necessary one.) We started by arguing about the appropriate box for Charlie Stross's Laundry books, and moved on to the more interesting question of why it's worth putting them in boxes at all. We came up with two ways of looking at genre that are useful for something other than organizing a book store. I hasten to add that these are not the definitions in common use, and I'm not claiming they are.
1) Genre as conversation. A genre or subgenre consists of a set of stories in conversation with each other, or with the same set of tropes. The Laundry books are in conversation with Lovecraftian horror, but also with a particular set of spy novels, and also with Dilbert et al. They are mostly not in conversation with, say, urban fantasy, even though they involve supernatural/extradimensional beings living in modern London. Anita Blake sees the Laundry and crosses quietly to the other side of the street. Marla Mason, in conversation with both urban fantasy and Lovecraftian horror, gets along with it splendidly. (Crap. I just thought about one particular Laundry character getting ahold of that cloak, and I'm going to cross the street and keep right on going as fast as I can.)
2) Genre as shared reading protocols. This gets a lot more discussion, and actually is a useful way of thinking about genre--it explains why people who normally read SF are more likely to enjoy, say, Gillian Bradshaw's historical fiction than The Road. Or at least it explains why I am--Bradshaw's worldbuilding rewards exploration and investigation much as a good SF novel does, while McCarthy frustrates it. The people who enjoy McCarthy are reading for the language and the mood and the allegorical familial relationships, and don't care what caused the apocalypse and why the characters can breathe with no plants. I love a story that plays with language and mood, but my reading protocols won't leave those questions alone.
(
papersky
does something amazing with this--she goes ahead and reads books with protocols that the author never intended, and then writes books of her own with the results. Among Others is about someone doing this--about someone with science fiction protocols trying to deal with living in a fantasy.)
This is also relevant to a particular reflex of mine that I'm trying to make more nuanced. When I read that a new book or story "breaks down the walls of genre," "is groundbreaking and genre-bending," or similar, I tend to put it as far from my reading list as possible. And I think it's because many books described in this way are not in conversation with other books and not amenable to any existing set of reading protocols. But there's another kind of genre-breaking that's really interesting--books like the Laundry books that are in conversation with more than one genre and amenable to more than one reading protocol. Instead of a guy sitting in a room talking about how awesome this party would be if anyone else was cool enough to come, it's a gorgeous shindig where you invite your knitting friends and your writing friends and your filk-singing friends and your work-snark friends and at 2 AM everyone is sitting around the living room arguing about medieval Spanish convents while playing Cards Against Humanity.
I want to read more books that are like that party--books that combine protocols and conversations to give you new and wonderful perspective on everyone in the room.
1) Genre as conversation. A genre or subgenre consists of a set of stories in conversation with each other, or with the same set of tropes. The Laundry books are in conversation with Lovecraftian horror, but also with a particular set of spy novels, and also with Dilbert et al. They are mostly not in conversation with, say, urban fantasy, even though they involve supernatural/extradimensional beings living in modern London. Anita Blake sees the Laundry and crosses quietly to the other side of the street. Marla Mason, in conversation with both urban fantasy and Lovecraftian horror, gets along with it splendidly. (Crap. I just thought about one particular Laundry character getting ahold of that cloak, and I'm going to cross the street and keep right on going as fast as I can.)
2) Genre as shared reading protocols. This gets a lot more discussion, and actually is a useful way of thinking about genre--it explains why people who normally read SF are more likely to enjoy, say, Gillian Bradshaw's historical fiction than The Road. Or at least it explains why I am--Bradshaw's worldbuilding rewards exploration and investigation much as a good SF novel does, while McCarthy frustrates it. The people who enjoy McCarthy are reading for the language and the mood and the allegorical familial relationships, and don't care what caused the apocalypse and why the characters can breathe with no plants. I love a story that plays with language and mood, but my reading protocols won't leave those questions alone.
(

This is also relevant to a particular reflex of mine that I'm trying to make more nuanced. When I read that a new book or story "breaks down the walls of genre," "is groundbreaking and genre-bending," or similar, I tend to put it as far from my reading list as possible. And I think it's because many books described in this way are not in conversation with other books and not amenable to any existing set of reading protocols. But there's another kind of genre-breaking that's really interesting--books like the Laundry books that are in conversation with more than one genre and amenable to more than one reading protocol. Instead of a guy sitting in a room talking about how awesome this party would be if anyone else was cool enough to come, it's a gorgeous shindig where you invite your knitting friends and your writing friends and your filk-singing friends and your work-snark friends and at 2 AM everyone is sitting around the living room arguing about medieval Spanish convents while playing Cards Against Humanity.
I want to read more books that are like that party--books that combine protocols and conversations to give you new and wonderful perspective on everyone in the room.
Published on July 05, 2014 22:01
June 15, 2014
Continuing research
Things I've successfully learned today: 40s car models, history of "first aid" as a thing that exists, how a man could end up separated from his family at the start of the WWII Japanese American internment. I already knew that George Takei was awesome, but am reminded of it as I go through his autobiography. Clear, honest, unadorned descriptions of his time at Rohwer and Tule Lake, along with historical context and some serious blunt truth on the things you miss when you're four.
Things where I have failed at search: Can anyone recommend good resources on civil rights and interracial dynamics in late 40s Massachusetts? I'm looking for fairly practical stuff: how much trouble will this character (who is African American) have getting into libraries, restaurants, or stores? How segregated are most settings? How much fuss are bystanders likely to make about an obviously interracial group wandering around?
Any insight into how people in the northeast would slot a Japanese American woman into those laws or cultural restrictions would also be awesome, but that may be something I'll need to try and infer from experiences in New Jersey.
The past is another country. A country that is deeply fucked up.
Things where I have failed at search: Can anyone recommend good resources on civil rights and interracial dynamics in late 40s Massachusetts? I'm looking for fairly practical stuff: how much trouble will this character (who is African American) have getting into libraries, restaurants, or stores? How segregated are most settings? How much fuss are bystanders likely to make about an obviously interracial group wandering around?
Any insight into how people in the northeast would slot a Japanese American woman into those laws or cultural restrictions would also be awesome, but that may be something I'll need to try and infer from experiences in New Jersey.
The past is another country. A country that is deeply fucked up.
Published on June 15, 2014 21:54
May 20, 2014
Possibly less of a longshot? Possibly not.
1) Lovecraft wrote quite a lot about Miskatonic University, and many of his stories featured professors from the school. Am I missing a story in which he actually describes the school, or shows classes, or includes academic interactions between professors and students? Or does it just sit there as an invisible background while people read scary letters from elsewhere? (And yes, I know that Mount Holyoke gets used in the Whisperer in Darkness film. I'm trying to figure out if there's anything in the original mythos I need to worry about.)(I'll probably end up using Mount Holyoke too, since Hampshire would be clearly inappropriate. Also since the library is awesome.)
2) Miskatonic is the next thing to an Ivy League. Given the time period, and also given Lovecraft, it was obviously men-only for quite some time. Has anyone ever speculated as to its sister school?
2) Miskatonic is the next thing to an Ivy League. Given the time period, and also given Lovecraft, it was obviously men-only for quite some time. Has anyone ever speculated as to its sister school?
Published on May 20, 2014 21:46
Longshot request
We own the CDs of the NPR broadcast of Star Wars (which is awesome, if you haven't heard it you should). Alas, Episode 13 has been missing for several months and we haven't been able to find it.
Does anyone out there own it, and if so would they be willing to share an MP3 of just that episode? It would make S very happy.
Does anyone out there own it, and if so would they be willing to share an MP3 of just that episode? It would make S very happy.
Published on May 20, 2014 16:50
May 17, 2014
Right, that was the other thing I wanted to ask.
Would anyone be willing to beta read a 7800-word science fiction story? Possible first contact, poly families, xenolinguistics, and dysfunctional academic politics.
Published on May 17, 2014 08:08