SF/F Commentary

Genre Books for Non-Genre People: Still Missing the Point, Folks!

The other day, Damien G. Walter posted the following on his Google+ account: Now that Fantasy / SF is taking over the mainstream, which books do you recommend to people who have not read it before? Thus far, two people have responded with posts of their own:  my friend and podcast co-host Paul Weimer and John Stevens.  Each list has a particular perspective for the textual choices, and each is valid in its own way.  But they are also effectively useless lists without a pre-defined “non-genre person.”  Whenever lists like this come out, that perspective is almost always ignored.  Nobody seems willing to address the fact that non-genre readers are not a homogeneous group. Paul’s list, for example, includes the following: Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey The Warrior’s Apprentice by Lois McMaster Bujold The Hammer and the Blade by Paul S. Kemp Storm Front by Jim Butcher Flesh and Fire by Laura Anne Gilman. The only mention of an audience in his post is a throwaway line about people who read novels.  There’s no mention of the things they like to read.  Are they Clive Cussler fans?  Do they prefer the prose of Amy Tan or Ian McEwan?  What about Jonathan Franzen or Ernest Hemingway?  Are they fans of modernist writing, or are they more into the postmodernist crowd?  Or maybe they don’t like any of that.  Maybe they’re romance readers, or they prefer political thrillers, or regular thrillers.  Or they read Dan Brown or James Paterson (they’re both basically genre, I guess).   The point:  his readers could be anyone, and that makes his selections functionally useless.  Unless you suggest these works to someone you can reasonably expect to enjoy them based on what they already enjoy, you’re basically flipping a coin.  You might get that one reader who devours these books the same way Paul clearly has, or you might get that one reader who views these as the reason why genre fiction is worthless. The more problematic issue here stem’s from the list’s clear conscious or subconscious assumed or intended readership.  While the invoked audience for these works is overly broad, the actual works presented here fall within a very particular camp of readers.  These are not what most would call “literary novels.”  They are, in the most loving way I can say it, pure genre.  Gracing the list are a high-octane space opera (Corey), a mostly fun urban fantasy (Butcher), a rip-roaring fantasy adventure novel (not unlike Indiana Jones; Kemp), a military SF novel (Bujold), and a fantasy epic (Gilman).  Understandably, I’m describing these somewhat unfairly.  They are more complicated than the simplistic generic traditions with which they are identified, but the ease with which they can fall into these categories presents a crucial problem:  they are not novels that will appeal to the widest range of people, generally speaking.  I stand by that.  Some of the folks who might start with these novels may find themselves less willing to try again.  Why?  The simple fact that these books aren’t really for “non-genre” people; rather, they are more fairly aimed at those who may not read genre yet, but whose literary sensibilities lean toward the genre camp.  For that group, these novels will suck them in (I hope, that is).  For everyone else?  Flipping a coin. Stevens’ list presents different challenges.  His selections are actually more grounded than Paul’s (this might have something to do with a tweet by Damien G. Walter that I have yet to see).  Rather than providing a nebulous intended audience, Stevens specifically identifies his audience as “those who are new to the genre.” While this doesn’t narrow the focus or define these new or incoming readers in terms of their previous reading interests, it does establish a better foundation.  With that perspective in mind, Stevens suggests the following: Wizard of the Pigeons by Megan Lindholm Midnight Riot by Ben Aaronovitch Paladin of Souls by Lois McMaster Bujold The Wild Shore by Kim Stanley Robinson The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin There are definitely some great authors here (I haven’t read them all).  The problem?  In my experience, Robinson’s Three Californias best fits among the (to use a pointless term) “literary crowd.”  I taught The Gold Coast last year and discovered that it didn’t sit well with students who came in with certain expectations of genre.  That doesn’t mean The Wild Shore or any of the Three Californias novels are bad or unworthy of suggestion; rather, I say this in order to suggest that Three Californias deserves to be suggested under entirely different conditions:  namely, ones in which you have a far more specific understanding of what someone likes.  Compared to the other works on Steven’s list, Robinson’s stands out as the one most likely to appeal to audiences who don’t have experience with generic traditions.  The Lindholm, Aaronovitch, Bujold, and Jemisin are all writers whose work, in my mind, will have greater effect on those who are already reading things that are similar enough to genre.  In that respect, they fit quite well into Steven’s list, as they are works which are geared towards “new readers of genre.”   But, again, it all comes down to what we mean by “new readers.”  What are they currently reading?  Who is a “new reader”?  Does someone who reads Salman Rushdie, Jane Rogers, or Gabriel Garcia Marquez qualify as a “new reader of genre”?  Or are we talking about people who have, for example, started reading genre because they saw Game of Thrones and wanted to read the books?  This distinction is crucial.  Even more crucial, however, are the additional distinctions (distinctions upon distinctions) — there are fantasy readers, SF readers, SF/F readers, urban fantasy readers, readers who hate fantasy, readers who hate science fiction, readers who hate X, Y, or Z (or even Q).  The reader is everything when it comes to suggestions.  Are readers are naturally conservative (i.e., they don’t like to try new things)?  Not necessarily.  What I’m concerned with here is the desire to

SF/F Commentary

Things Happening Now: Shoot the WISB and Man of Steel

After a brief Twitter discussion with Paul Weimer, I’ve decided to move the Shoot the WISB segments over to The Skiffy and Fanty Show.  There are a few reasons for this, but the fact that this blog is, well, a blog is the most obvious of those reasons. In any case, if you want to hear the latest episode, you can do so here.  Paul and I are joined by David Annandale and Michael Underwood to discuss Man of Steel! Thanks for listening!

SF/F Commentary

Link of the Week: Amal El-Mohtar Calls for the Expulsion of Theodore Beale from SFWA

You’ve probably already seen it, but if you haven’t, here you go.  If you scroll down to the comments section, you can see a lot of other responses to the situation. In short, Theodore Beale (a.k.a. Vox Day) is our resident loud-mouthed racist and misogynist.  This is not a bit of name calling.  This is just established fact.  The things he’s written about women and people of color so clearly define him as among the most vile minds among us that I’m surprised it took until Amal’s post to spark serious discussion about expelling him from the SFWA.  Then again, I suppose this is the first time he’s explicitly broken “the rules.”  And that’s the crux of the matter:  Beale/Day used an official SFWA space to increase his readership (as opposed to N.K. Jemisin who gave a speech at a non-SFWA function), and in doing so, he turned SFWA’s voice into a loudspeaker for racism.  It’s like the guy comes straight out of a D.W. Griffith film… I may have more to say about this whole thing later, but if not, there’s plenty of interesting stuff to read in Amal’s post alone.  The links at the bottom of that post add a whole lot more. Anywhoodles.

World in the Satin Bag

Why I Hated Superman Returns

Honestly, I hated Superman Returns because it established Superman as virtually (though not actually) limitless, at which point he becomes uninteresting to me as a hero. Clearly Kryptonite doesn’t really matter. He can lift entire islands of the stuff into the sky, so all this talk about it being his bad news bears is really just nonsense. At best, it’s a nuisance.  And since he can basically do anything, there’s no reason to ever worry that he will fail. That’s what makes a good hero for me. We know, deep down, he won’t fail, but on the outside, we see his weaknesses and know that it’s always possible that he will (or she, for that matter). What also makes Superman a fantastic hero isn’t his strength and other abilities; it’s his constant need to do the right thing, even in the face of terrible adversity. This is why I think the trailer for the new film is so effective (even if the film falls short — haven’t seen it, so I can’t say). The idea that Superman is someone we’re supposed to look up to and an image to strive towards makes him such a compelling figure, not because he’s got all those powers, but because he is the guy who will brave the storm for his fellow “man”, even if that storm is likely to kill him. (You can see why the military is using Superman to sell volunteering in some of their recent ads, since the idea behind the trailer for the new Superman film clearly jives with the mythic formation of the soldier — the one who sacrifices for others). And while a lot of that is in Superman Returns, it is trampled by the complete retconning of Superman’s abilities (in my mind, anyway). Yeah, he does go and do the big, dangerous thing, but in doing so, he ceases to be something for which we can reasonably strive. He becomes god or close enough to it that the distinction isn’t relevant. What might have made Superman Returns a better film is if the great hero had to rely on the help of regular humans for once. Maybe the military storms in as Luther is about to deal the final blow to Superman. Maybe, like in Spiderman (the first Raimi film), a bunch of regular folks start chucking rocks and telling Luther to frak off, because if you mess with Superman, you mess with humanity. This would humble Superman, and it would remind us that his abilities are not what makes him who he is. They’re just icing on the cake, as it were. No, what makes Superman admirable is his personal strength and his ability to inspire. Superman has principles, and he sticks to them no matter what.  He fights while the rest of us cower, and in doing so, he gives us courage.  But in Superman Returns, I don’t need to create my own courage.  The god will save me.  I can cower away and let greater beings do everything for me.  I am weak.  I am nothing. That’s why I hated Superman Returns. ——————————————————— This originally appeared on my Facebook page as a response to Alex Bledsoe.

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