Monthly Archives: August 2019

An Open Letter to Stubby the Rocket Concerning the Guns Of Fantasy

This letter was written in response to an article, The Guns of Fantasy, posted on TOR.com.

Dear Stubby the Rocket,

Writing this was a hard decision, but I want to let you know that someone wrote an article objectifying, of all things, biceps.  They wrote it and gave you the byline. I can only come to the conclusion that whoever wrote it originally didn’t want anyone to know they’d written it.

I guess I can’t say I blame them.  I suppose I wouldn’t want anyone to know I wrote, and published, something so distasteful.  Objectification at any level, even the biceps of fictional characters, is just wrong. Did the editors at Tor.com know this was going to be published?  If they did, how could they let it get through?

Our genre community’s foundation is one of inclusivity.  Everyone’s supposed to be welcome. No gatekeeping, no making others uncomfortable, no objectification.  Agreeing to disagree as necessary and encouraging everyone to be who they are, or want to be, whatever that may be.

My dream for our messy, weird, wonderful community is that we lift people up, demanding we all be better citizens.  As a fan, I can no longer stand by and not say something about how angry some behaviours make me. I get angry because I know we can do better, we don’t have to reduce others to feel good about who we are.

Haven’t you heard?  This is our time to shine!  We’re the cool kids now. Why would someone want to waste that opportunity?  Why would anyone want to behave badly where others, especially those who might want to become a part of our community, can see it?

Jason Momoa, of all people, was recently body-shamed because while he was at the beach with his family he didn’t look like Aquaman.  And while Momoa is athletic, the workouts he goes through for his movie roles are extreme and unsustainable. Somehow, Jason Momoa at rest isn’t good enough.  Which … so wrong.

And here’s what objectification does.  It reduces someone to an object, a thing.  By objectifying someone we tell them they’re not worthy of our respect.  We rob them of their dignity and integrity. Most of all, we rob them of their right to be human in their own right.

By making them objects, it’s a really small, tiny, infinitesimal step away from treating them like they’re nothing.  Like they’re useless and unwelcome. It’s called othering, and it’s becoming the norm for society at large

Othering is what allows people to treat one another like dirt.  It leads to gatekeeping, and all sorts of behaviours predicated on exclusivity.  It’s harmful to everyone.

Another story.  In 2012, authors Jim C. Hines and John Scalzi held a pose off.  While raising money for charity, they posed in the same poses as women on cover art.  The point they were making was that no matter how nimble a woman may be, the poses depicted are impossible things our bodies weren’t made to do.

“But if you’re laughing because you’re a straight guy and therefore must declare all male bodies brain-searingly ugly? If you’re laughing because you think a man in a dress is funny and should be mocked? In other words, if you’re laughing because of various aspects of ingrained sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and other discriminatory nonsense? Then you’ve missed the point so badly it’s not even funny.”  (http://www.jimchines.com/2012/12/wait-what-were-we-laughing-at/)

No, I’m not saying we’re not allowed to enjoy the beauty of the people surrounding us.  What I am saying is, it’s a fine line between, “Wow, they’re pretty” and only liking someone because they’re pretty.  The problem lies in being so focused on them as beauty, we miss the person who brings that beauty to life.

And so Stubby, what I hope comes from this is a conversation about how to be better members of the community of fandom.  How to help ourselves become aware of our harmful behaviors. And then, I would love to see us become aware enough to stop objectification, in ourselves and others.

I left fandom once because I couldn’t stand the gatekeeping and felt anything I had to contribute was unwelcome.  A lot of that was gender-based and I got tired of it. Now I realize that as I rejoin the community which allows me to be who I am (some days it’s the bowler hat, some days it’s the propeller hat), I have to speak up.

As flawed as I am, as messy as I can be, I can’t just walk away this time.  Because this is the closest to a village I have and I want very much for us all to be treated with respect for who we are.  I want us to be allowed to be enthusiastic about the weird things without being judged for that. And I want us to work on being better stewards of each other.

I have to speak up, because there are those who can’t speak loud enough through their pain to be heard.  We’re supposed to be enjoying what our genre has to offer, including each other’s company. We’re not supposed to be afraid to be around others because they judge us.

In closing, Stubby, I hope the writers and editors at Tor.com will come to understand that writing such articles and hiding behind you is an act of cowardice.  We should all have the courage of our convictions and stand by what we have to say. And we should be willing to get called on our bad behaviour so we can grow and do better.

Yours in fandom,
Stephanie Alford

Stephanie Alford is a critical book reviewer dedicated to a life-long study of science fiction and fantastical literature.
7Stillwell – http://www.lunisea.com

The Four Pillars of Criticism

In lurking in the comments section on websites, YouTube, and Reddit most critical discussion breaks down because the participants don’t have a shared an agreement or rules governing their interaction. They may have community guidelines of expected civil behavior, but that’s not the same thing as rules for engaging in critical discourse. Three years ago, I started testing the waters of literary criticism. Two years ago, I took a deep breath and dove in headfirst into the deep end. In all that time, I’ve read dozens of books and articles and not once have I seen anyone talk about rules for interaction. It seems like every single reviewer and critic out there is saying what they want, when they want, and putting their thoughts into the world with the attitude of, “Come at me bro!” And critical discourse devolves into the equivalent of a shouting match of who can intelligently poke more holes in another’s premise the fastest. As I’ve explored criticism from both the geek community as well as the literary and academic community, I’ve become more and more convinced of the need for critics to develop a list of “rules of engagement.” That is, a set of guidelines for others to follow in order for critics to know which people in the discussion are acting in good faith and which are just trolling.

I’ve developed The Four Pillars of Criticism as both the “rules of engagement” for The Geek’s Guide to Literary Theory and as a template for other nerds and academics to consider for their own guidelines of interaction. These pillars come from an amalgamation of ideas from more than a dozen books by some of the smartest people writing about writing in the latter part of the 20th Century and the first part of this one as well as my own belief that, like the art itself, discussions of art should serve to enrich the human experience. I understand not everyone feels this way about art or criticism, but that’s how I feel about it. To that end, that’s this website will approach both articles and discussions. For those who don’t like it, feel free to start your own website and make up your own rules.

A final note before I get into The Four Pillars of Criticism: We do not expect everyone to agree on everything posted on this site. The greatest art sometimes comes from a place of disagreement. To paraphrase something one of my Lit Theory teachers said, “Most of us come to writing to solve the problems of previous generations of writers.” However, with The Geek’s Guide to Literary Theory, I want to encourage people to consider how they engage in discussion at least as much as what they chose to discuss. We expect everyone to consider at least three of these pillars when interacting with articles and others on this site.

CURIOSITY

This is the first pillar. Without true curiosity, what’s the point in exploring art in the first place? Now, curiosity is a double-edged sword. Some people are curious about the things they love in order to be right, to prove how smart they are. This is equally prevalent in geek circles as it is in academia. Gatekeepers about in both communities. Both communities will always have those who feel it’s their right to judge who should or should not be welcome in the hallowed halls of what they feel is the “correct” way to be an academic or nerd. Those who embrace curiosity for those purposes will find little tolerance for those antics here.
For the true critic, curiosity is the beginning of exploration. The true critic begins with a question, not hoping to find an answer, but instead, hoping to discover new, previously unconsidered questions. In exploring those questions, the critic hopes to find even more questions. Eventually, answers will come, but only after a long journey down a twisting and turning rabbit hole of new ideas. This curious critic will include the most interesting questions in their work because they will want others to consider those questions, exploring them from different angles, and presenting new thoughts, which might very well lead to new questions. This is where true critical dialog begins.

RESPECT

To criticize means to judge. We are making judgments on art, and those judgments are subjective. Part of the nature of criticism challenges or disagrees with the art being examined. It’s far too easy for such examination to turn into a hate fest of nerd raging. The comments section everywhere abound with this kind of vitriol. The true critic approaches their work with the utmost respect. This includes the art being examined and their explorations and questioning of that art. Respect is vitally important when the critic comes to a deep disagreement with the art they are exploring. How can we expect people to respect our work if we are not in turn respectful of the works of others? How can we engage in constructive discussions with our fellow critics when we disagree without remaining respectful throughout all points of the conversation?

KNOWLEDGE

Can we truly criticize from a place of ignorance? It seems like the internet is full of that; however, this idea should be abhorrent to the true critic. Knowledge should be the foundation for all of our inquiries of art. This doesn’t have to be formal education, but the critic should not only possess a firm understanding of the subject of their critique, but also of the manner in which the critic is making the critique. This includes any and all lenses of critical theories that the critic plans to use in the examination of a work of art. This also includes some understanding of the medium of that art, the accepted conventions within that artistic school, and, if possible, the intentions of the artist the more knowledgeable a critic is, the better questions a critic can ask, which leads to a deeper exploration. Then the critic is better able to speak of the work explored with assurance and authority as well as better prepared to respond when challenged.

ENGAGEMENT

True criticism is an art unto itself, and critics should be open to, even invite, exploration and questions from their peers. This is where I feel most critics fall short. In so much of my reading, it seems that critics want to put their thoughts into the world and expect those thoughts to be accepted without challenge or question. The true critic invites discussion, discourse, and debate. In turn, the true critic seeks out the criticism of others and engages with the fullness of their curiosity, respect, and knowledge. If critics expect artists and consumers of art to take criticism seriously, then we — that is critics — should hold ourselves accountable to the higher, more demanding standards than we do to the artists whose work we explore.