Why I Now Love Avatar Because I Hate It
Some time back I talked about why Avatar would suck, and yet it would still be one of the biggest movies in years. Thus far, it seems to be exactly that. Most of the people who love the movie point out that the story is horribly cliché, but that the visuals are stunning; those who dislike it point out that it’s either a crazy liberal fantasy (it probably is) or a visual stunt (considering that it’s in 3D, that’s not far off the mark). Probably the worst part of this is that I’ve seen Avatar recommended not for being a good movie, per se, but because one can’t miss the visual revolution it will likely start. And now, having seen all that is said about the movie, good and bad, I have come to love it. No, I haven’t seen the movie (I don’t have to in order to understand what the film entails), but I have come to love the film for the same reasons that I and others “hate” it. Here are a few of those reasons: It comments upon numerous American fantasies, particularly a nostalgic desire for an unattainable British-style empire (fueled, perhaps, by what Istvan Csicsery-Ronay Jr. refers to as the “British imperial nostalgia displaced onto the American heirs” in his essay “Cyberpunk and Empire”) in an exceptionally obvious and unrelenting way. This makes for interesting analysis when one tries to consider how the vision Avatar gives us comments upon both the creators and the world we live in. What can only be said to be a remarkable ability on the part of the writers to reduce racial or ethnic subjects (or, for the purposes of this discussion, the “Other,” or the more apt term, “Subaltern”) to caricature, thinly veiled and served with a side of American-guilt masqueraded as White-guilt (I refuse to reduce problems of genocide to racial stereotypes when we live in a world beset with the perpetuation of this practice by people of all races). A uniquely anti-capitalist, anti-military, and anti-imperialist fictionalization that is and probably always will be mistaken for something it is not (i.e. some liberal critique of the U.S. militaristic state in need of refutation via indefensible positions. Such positions are, unfortunately, taken as legitimate critiques in this world–to put it more plainly, the use of the “this is an evil liberal movie” argument to reduce the term “liberal” into something derogatory while both ignoring and inviting others to ignore the truth underneath whatever is being said; we might call this the “head in the sand” mentality, which exist in all stripes of politics, no matter how right or left leaning). I’m sure there’s much more I could add to this, but these seem to be the three most important points to make. Avatar’s story is still trite; it’s character are still cardboard cutouts; it’s ideas are still representative of yesterday’s greatest hits; and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make it into anything more than a technology stunt worthy of the praise it has received (namely, that it is visually stunning, and nothing else). Whatever revolutionary power it will have will, thus, be reduced to the technological. I don’t think fans of the film, however, should be put off by this, because many great movies have influenced filmmaking while being terrible or mediocre or “just okay.” Influence is influence.
Reading Resolution Redux: A Question For Readers
A couple days ago I wrote a post about my reading resolutions for 2010. In it I discussed my goal to read more international science fiction and fantasy, under the guise that intentionally doing so would not be as artificial as seeking out work by people of color. Looking back, I completely disagree with my original statement. But Dave B. from Robot Comics beat me to the punch with the following comment: I don’t know if “Read more international books” is more or less artificial than “Read more books by PoC.” They’re both seeking out specific types of authors, and nationality and race are by and large the same type of divide when speaking about sectioning people off into “groups”. Theoretically (though not at all absolutely), reading books by PoC gives you a different SUB-cultural voice/view, where reading international authors gives you a different cultural view/voice. But beyond that prefix, I don’t see any difference in consciously seeking one out or the other. Same with gender. It’s good to keep your mind open to all three – keep aware that you WOULD like to read more of all three – but to actively seek it out in numbers will be artificial no matter which of the three you’re talking out. Or so it strikes me. The first section is absolutely true. The very idea of intentionally seeking out international SF/F makes the actual reading artificial (in the sense that I am no longer reading organically–by how I find the story–but instead by a systemic, probably well-researched, purchasing/selecting method). No matter how I try to spin it, there is no difference between seeking out international SF/F or works by people of color. And this is where I have such a big problem: the end of Dave’s comment hints to exactly how I read (I am open to all manner of writing by authors of various nationalities, genders, and races, with the exception, obviously, that the work be written or translated into my native and only tongue–English). I generally do not select what I read by any factor other than by what I happen to like (and those likes are changing dramatically these days due to exposure to all kinds of new forms of writing), but at the same time I am always on the look out for new and interesting stories from all over the world and often gravitate towards such things when they are properly advertised as such. Only, that rarely happens (for international SF/F or people of color), and in some cases probably for good reasons. I can see problems with publishers using one’s gender or race as a gimmick for selling one books, which might be why many of them don’t do it (a guess on my part). So, do I simply take the artificial road and try to find these works where they appear? Is there anything wrong with an artificial method for selecting reading material? Am I reading too much into the notion of “artificial” and, thus, creating doubt within myself about the effectiveness of such a “habit?” I’d really love opinions on this, folks. While I do not base my reading habits on one’s race, gender, or nationality, I still am very uncomfortable with the gaps in my reading, not because I am guilty of anything, but because I feel like I’m missing something vital.
Scifi Squad’s Top Scifi Rapist
Last month, Scifi Squad posted a top ten list of scifi couples. The usual suspects show up there (Han and Leia from Star Wars), with a few modern additions (Zoe and Wash from Firefly and WALL-E and Eve from WALL-E). But then there’s #3: Rick and Rachael from Blade Runner. I wasn’t aware that being a rapist made you one half of an awesome scifi couple. But maybe the Scifi Squad folks don’t remember the scene where Rick Deckard throws Rachael against the wall after she tries to leave, and then forces himself upon her (she cries in that scene, by the way) while terrifying her into telling him “she wants it.” It wasn’t hidden. The scene is pretty damned clear: at best, Deckard is an abusive son of a bitch; at worst, he’s the worst kind of rapist you’d expect to see in a Lifetime movie. They’re reasoning? Between filming two parts of his memorable Star Wars romance, Harrison Ford fell in love with a replicant. That’s the last thing you’d expect from the world-weary Rick Deckard, who specializes in terminating “skin jobs,” but the heart wants what the heart wants, and the cool, classic beauty of Rachael (Sean Young) sneaks through his defenses, until he’s doing everything within his power to keep her alive. Did they see the same movie I did? He hardly does anything for Rachael. Yes, at the end of the movie he takes her away, but that’s the only moment where Deckard really does anything for her (rather than for himself). Throughout most of the movie he is either screwing with her mind (i.e. telling her she’s a replicant and that all her memories, which she thinks, at that point, are hers, are in fact fabrications), killing her kind, or forcing himself upon her. One shouldn’t forget that the world Deckard has come to know pretty much allows him to get away with doing whatever he wants to the so called “skin jobs.” I wonder if a little of that has rubbed off into the real world… Two thumbs up for rapists, I suppose.
Cover Sins: Young Flandry and the Thoughts Inspired
Aidan Moher over at A Dribble of Ink recently posted the cover art for Young Flandry by Poul Anderson; it is by far one of the worst covers I have ever seen (just look below). Now, to be fair to Baen, they haven’t exactly been at the forefront of excellent cover art (in fact, they’re fairly well known for regularly producing questionable covers), but this one really takes the cake:I left the following comment at A Dribble of Ink: Well, Mr. Anderson just rolled over in his grave and vomited a fine mixture of dirt and liquid flesh…this is why I’ve never purchased as Baen book. There might be a good story under the cover, but I refuse to cover my bookshelf with stuff that looks like that. I have a reputation to uphold… I mean that too. The only Baen books I own were given to me as used copies; I keep their covers hidden from anyone who might actually come to my apartment and look at my collection. As a result, I have yet to buy a Baen book because when it comes to really bad cover art, I do judge a book by its cover. There’s bad cover art, and then there’s atrocious cover art (the kind of stuff that other people see on your shelf and judge you by); Baen frequently produces the latter. I fail to see any reason for Baen to have such crappy covers. Do they not have $20 to pay some DeviantArt kid to produce something of at least reasonable quality? It’s not that hard to find these people (I recently did just that and ended up with ten fairly good pieces of art for a very reasonable price). There are thousands of decent starting artists on DeviantArt, and I know Baen sells books (they’re in most bookstores, after all) and, thus, has a moderate enough cash flow to commission good-enough-art (which would be acceptable). So, what’s the hold up? The only thing I can assume about Baen is that they do this on purpose either to create the effect of the pulps or to be distinct. The problem is that a lot of their novels aren’t actually pulp novels (David Weber, for example), so poor cover quality seems more detrimental to the value of the work than anything else. And if they are trying to be distinct, they’ve succeeded, but only in making their books look like garbage. I feel sorry for the authors. I know Baen has done a lot of wonderful stuff for the SF/F community, but they could put the same amount of effort into the books they produce for consumers (and their authors) as they do into making the SF/F world better for all of us. Get with the program, Baen. Your crummy CG renders, your pulpy porno nonsense, and your other cover problems are not helping you sell books to this reader. Not at all.
Ebooks Prices: Now I Understand
I’ve recently been trying to convert the first issue of Survival By Storytelling into a Kindle ebook, thinking it would be a fairly easy process. Technology had other ideas. Here’s what I thought was going to happen: I’d go online, pop the file into Amazon’s conversion tool, and end up with a slightly imperfect file. I’d fiddle a little bit by fixing the small problems. Finish, publish, and rake in the dough to give to all my contributors. How it actually happened: I went online, popped the file into Amazon’s conversion tool, and realized that the final product was so screwed up it was practically unreadable. Tried to figure out how to fix it and found out the following:a) There are no magic, simple ways to change the conversion problems.b) It will take ten times the amount of time it took to make the print version of the book to put together a suitable Kindle version. I’m currently not finished, despite many hours of trying to figure out how to do it. I may end up throwing my hands up when the file is in “acceptable” state and get it out there. So, having gone through all of this, I now understand why it costs so much to produce eBooks, because you could not pay me enough money to sit down and do this, day in and day out. No way. I’d rather chew on broken glass or cut my own heart out with a spoon. Seriously. And this is supposed to be the wave of the future? P.S.: Yes, I’m still going to get Survival By Storytelling, Issue One up on the Kindle. It’ll just take me some time, because the whole thing is a pain in the butt.
UPS Fail (Again)
So apparently UPS was unable to deliver another package to me, this time from the Hatchette group (i.e. more books). The reason this time? Apparently the recipient was unauthorized or some such nonsense. Now, I don’t know about you, but if the address is correct (and they clearly have my address, since they sent me yet another postcard to tell me they couldn’t deliver my package–like they did last time), then why exactly should it matter if the recipient is authorized? It’s a package. You know where it has to go, so deliver it. It’s that simple. I’m starting to think this is a grand conspiracy to keep packages from arriving at my doorstep…