Among the items nominated in the "Best Short Story" category of the 2015 Hugo Awards are "A Single Samurai", by Steven Diamond, and "Totaled", by Kary English.
I'll be quite brief about these. "A Single Samurai" is a fantasy story involving a magical samurai warrior's attempt to halt the path of a mountain-sized kaiju monster. Leaving aside a couple of small verbal infelicities, it is a well-written, well-crafted piece told in the first person by the samurai, whose character - one marked by honour, tradition, and invincible determination - is conveyed effectively. So vast is the kaiju that the samurai's efforts appear ineffectual and futile, but read on... All in all, this is a solid short story, if marred by something of a deus ex machina style of ending. By all means give it a try and see what you think.
"Totaled" is a more innovative and sophisticated story, and I think it's a genuine contender for the award. It's difficult to describe this one without giving away too much and spoiling the effect. Suffice to say that it's told - mainly in present tense, and for good reasons - from a very unusual point of view. Kary English was not previously on my radar but appears to be a noteworthy talent.
After writing the above, I checked and found that both of these stories were on the Sad Puppies slate, as was Lou Antonelli's story, "On the Spiritual Plain", which I reviewed a few days ago. The remaining two stories were not, although they do appear on the slate issued by the (Zeus help us!) "Rabid Puppies". I'll get to those soon. Meanwhile Kary English's "Totaled" seems most deserving of the award of three short stories that I've read so far.
About Me
- Russell Blackford
- Australian philosopher, literary critic, legal scholar, and professional writer. Based in Newcastle, NSW. My latest books are THE TYRANNY OF OPINION: CONFORMITY AND THE FUTURE OF LIBERALISM (2019); AT THE DAWN OF A GREAT TRANSITION: THE QUESTION OF RADICAL ENHANCEMENT (2021); and HOW WE BECAME POST-LIBERAL: THE RISE AND FALL OF TOLERATION (2024).
Friday, June 05, 2015
Thursday, June 04, 2015
Best Related Work Hugo - even more - Hugo Awards Voting
To follow up yesterday's post on this subject, I've now read the remaining two items on the list of nominees for "Best Related Work". Once again, the nominated works are:
1. Lou Antonelli, Letters from Gardner.
2. Ken Burnside, "The Hot Equations: Thermodynamics and Military SF".
3. Ted Roberts, "Why Science is Never Settled".
4. Michael Z. Williamson, Wisdom from My Internet.
5. John C. Wright, Transhuman and Subhuman: Essays on Science Fiction and Awful Truth.
In yesterday's post I gave my reasons why I could not support the items by Antonelli, Roberts, and Wright. What about Williamson and Burnside?
The short book by Williamson is actually a compilation of jokes and snarky comments. It's edgy, has plenty to offend almost anyone, and will certainly piss off some readers. For all that, it's funny. A lot of the humour passed me by (much of it is based on details of American politics that I know little about), but there's a great deal of wordplay that made me laugh. Williamson's politics may not be mine - he seems to be some sort of political Libertarian, although he makes fun of almost everyone - but he's got a quick wit and a love of language. Good for him. The trouble is that the book is not even remotely related to science fiction or fantasy except in the most basic sense that it's by someone who is also a science fiction writer.
Burnside's article amounts to a short exposition of the problems of interplanetary propulsion systems and course trajectories, with advice on what might be plausible scenarios for a future in which travel takes place fairly freely within our solar system, complete with battles in space. It is framed as advice to writers of military sf, and it seems like it could help anyone who wants to write in that area with a high level of verisimilitude.
For my money, Burnside is the most deserving winner among the five authors who have been nominated. Unless you are planning to vote for No Award or not to vote in this category, you might find reason to vote for "The Hot Equations". I'm considering doing so. There is still, however, a question as to whether this short, specialised piece has the kind of gravitas that justifies winning an award at this level, bearing in mind the sorts of works that have won in past years. Still, it is relevant and nicely done.
Stepping back for a minute, two of the five works on the list of nominations seem to me quite clearly off-topic: those by Roberts and Williamson. Antonelli's book (what I read of it) did not seem overly impressive to me, though it has its value. Wright is perhaps the most impressive of the five authors, but his book is self-indulgent and deeply flawed. All in all, it's an odd assortment.
There have been some strange nominations in this category in the past, so it might be said that the Roberts and Williamson pieces are not that bizarre as nominees. Perhaps so, but the award has usually been won by works that are very clearly on-topic - check out Wikipedia's list of nominated works and winners.
Once we include on the list of nominees an article about the history and nature of science - with no particular connection made to fantasy and SF - and a book of jokes and snarky comments by someone who happens to be a science fiction writer, where does it end? It hasn't escaped me that both of my own books that were published last year would have had as much claim (or a better claim) than these works. So would, taken as a whole, last year's issues of The Journal of Evolution and Technology.
I'm not complaining, because I still don't think that Humanity Enhanced or Intelligence Unbound or JET should have been eligible, and I wouldn't have dreamt of suggesting anyone nominate them. (Conversely, my book under contract with Springer for publication a couple of years down the track will certainly be eligible.) But if the items by Roberts and Williamson are considered legitimate, it seems that in future all sorts of works might have a claim for consideration.
Once we get to that point, why not nominate, say, Nick Bostrom's recent book on superintelligence?
At the same time, there are plenty of other obvious contenders that might have been on the list, such as the second volume of William Patterson's huge biography of Heinlein and/or Brian Atteberry's new book about the fantasy genre. It is unfortunate that books such as these have been pushed out by dubiously relevant (and sometimes very flawed) contenders.
Of course, this raises large issues about politicisation of awards, especially when you have a group of people putting together a specific slate that they asked their fans to nominate on essentially political grounds. I've been very measured in what I've said about the people associated with the "Sad Puppies" campaign, partly because no great purpose is served by having yet another person (i.e. me) piling on in criticising them, and partly because I actually think some of the criticism they've received has been unfair, hyperbolic, abusive, and generally excessive. That makes me feel disinclined to add to all the flak (and to wonder whether I might cop some myself, from both sides, if I so much as tried to say something that attempted to be fair and measured).
But I can't be entirely silent after reading the five works nominated in this list - which correspond exactly with what was on the Sad Puppies official slate.
So... even if there is a legitimate grain of truth somewhere amongst what the folks in the Sad Puppies campaign have been complaining about, and fully acknowledging Larry Correia and Brad Torgersen as being well-meaning, decent people, etc. (not the monsters they are claimed to be by some), this campaign has been dreadfully wrongheaded. Worse, it has led to some perverse outcomes. If the idea was to go outside the box and identify outstanding work that might normally have been overlooked in favour of a group of well-networked "usual suspects", it does not appear to have turned out that way. And surely even people like Correia and Torgersen must (privately?) be horrified that Patterson's book is not shortlisted, whereas volume 1 was shortlisted in 2011, even though it didn't win.
I won't be trying to punish works or authors merely for being on the Sad Puppies slate. But I hope that this campaign will not be repeated in 2016 - at least not in anything remotely like the form we have seen this year.
1. Lou Antonelli, Letters from Gardner.
2. Ken Burnside, "The Hot Equations: Thermodynamics and Military SF".
3. Ted Roberts, "Why Science is Never Settled".
4. Michael Z. Williamson, Wisdom from My Internet.
5. John C. Wright, Transhuman and Subhuman: Essays on Science Fiction and Awful Truth.
In yesterday's post I gave my reasons why I could not support the items by Antonelli, Roberts, and Wright. What about Williamson and Burnside?
The short book by Williamson is actually a compilation of jokes and snarky comments. It's edgy, has plenty to offend almost anyone, and will certainly piss off some readers. For all that, it's funny. A lot of the humour passed me by (much of it is based on details of American politics that I know little about), but there's a great deal of wordplay that made me laugh. Williamson's politics may not be mine - he seems to be some sort of political Libertarian, although he makes fun of almost everyone - but he's got a quick wit and a love of language. Good for him. The trouble is that the book is not even remotely related to science fiction or fantasy except in the most basic sense that it's by someone who is also a science fiction writer.
Burnside's article amounts to a short exposition of the problems of interplanetary propulsion systems and course trajectories, with advice on what might be plausible scenarios for a future in which travel takes place fairly freely within our solar system, complete with battles in space. It is framed as advice to writers of military sf, and it seems like it could help anyone who wants to write in that area with a high level of verisimilitude.
For my money, Burnside is the most deserving winner among the five authors who have been nominated. Unless you are planning to vote for No Award or not to vote in this category, you might find reason to vote for "The Hot Equations". I'm considering doing so. There is still, however, a question as to whether this short, specialised piece has the kind of gravitas that justifies winning an award at this level, bearing in mind the sorts of works that have won in past years. Still, it is relevant and nicely done.
Stepping back for a minute, two of the five works on the list of nominations seem to me quite clearly off-topic: those by Roberts and Williamson. Antonelli's book (what I read of it) did not seem overly impressive to me, though it has its value. Wright is perhaps the most impressive of the five authors, but his book is self-indulgent and deeply flawed. All in all, it's an odd assortment.
There have been some strange nominations in this category in the past, so it might be said that the Roberts and Williamson pieces are not that bizarre as nominees. Perhaps so, but the award has usually been won by works that are very clearly on-topic - check out Wikipedia's list of nominated works and winners.
Once we include on the list of nominees an article about the history and nature of science - with no particular connection made to fantasy and SF - and a book of jokes and snarky comments by someone who happens to be a science fiction writer, where does it end? It hasn't escaped me that both of my own books that were published last year would have had as much claim (or a better claim) than these works. So would, taken as a whole, last year's issues of The Journal of Evolution and Technology.
I'm not complaining, because I still don't think that Humanity Enhanced or Intelligence Unbound or JET should have been eligible, and I wouldn't have dreamt of suggesting anyone nominate them. (Conversely, my book under contract with Springer for publication a couple of years down the track will certainly be eligible.) But if the items by Roberts and Williamson are considered legitimate, it seems that in future all sorts of works might have a claim for consideration.
Once we get to that point, why not nominate, say, Nick Bostrom's recent book on superintelligence?
At the same time, there are plenty of other obvious contenders that might have been on the list, such as the second volume of William Patterson's huge biography of Heinlein and/or Brian Atteberry's new book about the fantasy genre. It is unfortunate that books such as these have been pushed out by dubiously relevant (and sometimes very flawed) contenders.
Of course, this raises large issues about politicisation of awards, especially when you have a group of people putting together a specific slate that they asked their fans to nominate on essentially political grounds. I've been very measured in what I've said about the people associated with the "Sad Puppies" campaign, partly because no great purpose is served by having yet another person (i.e. me) piling on in criticising them, and partly because I actually think some of the criticism they've received has been unfair, hyperbolic, abusive, and generally excessive. That makes me feel disinclined to add to all the flak (and to wonder whether I might cop some myself, from both sides, if I so much as tried to say something that attempted to be fair and measured).
But I can't be entirely silent after reading the five works nominated in this list - which correspond exactly with what was on the Sad Puppies official slate.
So... even if there is a legitimate grain of truth somewhere amongst what the folks in the Sad Puppies campaign have been complaining about, and fully acknowledging Larry Correia and Brad Torgersen as being well-meaning, decent people, etc. (not the monsters they are claimed to be by some), this campaign has been dreadfully wrongheaded. Worse, it has led to some perverse outcomes. If the idea was to go outside the box and identify outstanding work that might normally have been overlooked in favour of a group of well-networked "usual suspects", it does not appear to have turned out that way. And surely even people like Correia and Torgersen must (privately?) be horrified that Patterson's book is not shortlisted, whereas volume 1 was shortlisted in 2011, even though it didn't win.
I won't be trying to punish works or authors merely for being on the Sad Puppies slate. But I hope that this campaign will not be repeated in 2016 - at least not in anything remotely like the form we have seen this year.
Wednesday, June 03, 2015
Best Related Work nominations reviewed & discussed - Hugo Awards Voting
This year's Hugo nominations in the "Best Related Work" category are as follows (in alphabetical order):
1. Lou Antonelli, Letters from Gardner.
2. Ken Burnside, "The Hot Equations: Thermodynamics and Military SF".
3. Ted Roberts, "Why Science is Never Settled".
4. Michael Z. Williamson, Wisdom from My Internet.
5. John C. Wright, Transhuman and Subhuman: Essays on Science Fiction and Awful Truth.
At this stage, I have not broached the items by Burnside and Williamson. They'll have to wait for another occasion - perhaps soon. However, I've read the Roberts and Wright items, plus a large chunk of Antonelli's book. Unfortunately, I cannot support any of these three for the award.
As I've previously stated, I intend to vote in the Hugo Awards on the basis of what I take to be the merits of the nominated works. Despite the unprecedentedly politicized nature of the nomination process in 2015, I will not be adopting any strategy such as automatically voting for "No Award" across all categories as some kind of protest or deterrent to the use of politicized slates of potential nominees. Nor will I be seeking to punish any author whose work was included in such a slate.
On the other hand, heavy voting along political lines can produce an outcome where some works are appearing on the nominations list because they were favoured by people drawing up a slate, rather than because of their merit. There may be some categories with weak sets of nominations, and from what I've read so far this looks like being one of them. If none of the nominations in a category look strong enough to deserve the relevant award, I will, indeed, vote for "No Award".
Antonelli's Letters from Gardner seems, from what I've read, to be about the author's development, at a relatively late stage of life, as a well-published author of (mainly) short stories. It includes a considerable amount of Antonelli's fiction, with much commentary and reflection, and amongst it some perfectly sound advice on the craft of writing. If it were up for a lesser (perhaps regional) award, I'd have no difficulty in voting for it. From what I've read, however, I just don't think the book is good, distinguished, or interesting enough to be worth a Hugo Award. It does not stand up well against past winners. Your mileage may vary. It's not a bad book, and I'd have happily read the whole thing if it had been provided in the Hugo Voters Packet.
"Why Science is Never Settled", by Tedd Roberts, is a well-written and thoughtful discussion of its subject matter. It popularises certain ideas in the history and philosophy of science, and does a workmanlike job of it. It was aimed at an SF-reading audience, and it was doubtless of interest to many people within that audience, but it does not seem to me to be sufficiently distinguished or relevant to deserve this award. There is some relationship to science fiction - enough that it would interest many readers who are also SF readers - but it's a rather tenuous one.
Wright's book is the most interesting case of the three works I've read in whole or part. It is a selection of essays, all of which are fairly closely related to science fiction and/or fantasy - indeed, most are directly on aspects of these genres.
Wright has a worldview that is antithetical to mine: he is a traditional, conservative Roman Catholic with all that this involves. He supports traditional gender roles and evidently has a very low view of gay men and lesbians. That might be enough for many readers to decide that they cannot vote for Transhuman and Subhuman, but it's not the worst problem with the book.
Note, in particular, that my mere disagreement with Wright's worldview would not lead me to try to silence him or punish him, or to characterise his views and attitudes in ways that go beyond the evidence. For example, he makes clear that he has a traditionally sexist approach to gender relations and roles. He would not characterise it as "sexist", of course, but he spells out his views quite clearly, and the approach he describes is, viewed from outside, a paradigmatically sexist one. I would not, however, go further and call him a misogynist in an attempt to discredit or punish him. He shows no sign of actually hating, or even disliking or despising, women, and it's sufficient to be accurate about wrongheaded and socially destructive views, rather than engaging in hyperbole and misrepresentation. (That said, Wright does appear to be an outright homophobe. The standard Roman Catholic position on homosexuality is homophobic enough to merit the label.)
At the same time, Wright is verbally talented. Better, he really does know a great deal about the history and techniques of science fiction/fantasy writing. As long as he focuses closely on these topics, he provides valuable information and insights. I venture to think that if he could discipline himself for the task he could produce a useful book on the subject, and even this one contains enough worthwhile material to be worth reading - if you can stomach the rest if it.
What ruins the book is that a very large proportion of the text consists of self-indulgent, abusive attacks on opponents. Once he starts writing about hot-button cultural or political controversies - and he does so for much of the book - Wright does not explain or analyse, at least not with any charity or fairness. He does not seek detachment, or critical distance, from the views that he is inclined to. There is no hint of an effort to persuade his opponents through reason and argument. Instead, he propounds, declaims, rants, speculates irresponsibly about others' motivations, and wildly attributes viciousness of character to people who disagree with his view of the world. Some of it - a lot of it - couldn't be much more extreme.
Does this material contain any grain of truth of truth at all? Perhaps. Almost any position developed by an intelligent person contains some grain of truth, and I freely admit at least one point. There have been many excesses of political correctness on the Left, with some dire results. See the recent abuse received by Joss Whedon over aspects of Avengers: Age of Ultron as just one example among many. For another example, see the farcical persecution of Laura Kipnis by her employing university.
But Wright's own style is as unfair and vitriolic as any of this, leading to a book that is full to bursting with moralistic, bad-tempered nonsense. Despite some intelligent and useful content when its author focuses on what he knows a lot about - again, the history and techniques of the SF and fantasy genres - this is nowhere near a book that merits my vote for a Hugo Award.
1. Lou Antonelli, Letters from Gardner.
2. Ken Burnside, "The Hot Equations: Thermodynamics and Military SF".
3. Ted Roberts, "Why Science is Never Settled".
4. Michael Z. Williamson, Wisdom from My Internet.
5. John C. Wright, Transhuman and Subhuman: Essays on Science Fiction and Awful Truth.
At this stage, I have not broached the items by Burnside and Williamson. They'll have to wait for another occasion - perhaps soon. However, I've read the Roberts and Wright items, plus a large chunk of Antonelli's book. Unfortunately, I cannot support any of these three for the award.
As I've previously stated, I intend to vote in the Hugo Awards on the basis of what I take to be the merits of the nominated works. Despite the unprecedentedly politicized nature of the nomination process in 2015, I will not be adopting any strategy such as automatically voting for "No Award" across all categories as some kind of protest or deterrent to the use of politicized slates of potential nominees. Nor will I be seeking to punish any author whose work was included in such a slate.
On the other hand, heavy voting along political lines can produce an outcome where some works are appearing on the nominations list because they were favoured by people drawing up a slate, rather than because of their merit. There may be some categories with weak sets of nominations, and from what I've read so far this looks like being one of them. If none of the nominations in a category look strong enough to deserve the relevant award, I will, indeed, vote for "No Award".
Antonelli's Letters from Gardner seems, from what I've read, to be about the author's development, at a relatively late stage of life, as a well-published author of (mainly) short stories. It includes a considerable amount of Antonelli's fiction, with much commentary and reflection, and amongst it some perfectly sound advice on the craft of writing. If it were up for a lesser (perhaps regional) award, I'd have no difficulty in voting for it. From what I've read, however, I just don't think the book is good, distinguished, or interesting enough to be worth a Hugo Award. It does not stand up well against past winners. Your mileage may vary. It's not a bad book, and I'd have happily read the whole thing if it had been provided in the Hugo Voters Packet.
"Why Science is Never Settled", by Tedd Roberts, is a well-written and thoughtful discussion of its subject matter. It popularises certain ideas in the history and philosophy of science, and does a workmanlike job of it. It was aimed at an SF-reading audience, and it was doubtless of interest to many people within that audience, but it does not seem to me to be sufficiently distinguished or relevant to deserve this award. There is some relationship to science fiction - enough that it would interest many readers who are also SF readers - but it's a rather tenuous one.
Wright's book is the most interesting case of the three works I've read in whole or part. It is a selection of essays, all of which are fairly closely related to science fiction and/or fantasy - indeed, most are directly on aspects of these genres.
Wright has a worldview that is antithetical to mine: he is a traditional, conservative Roman Catholic with all that this involves. He supports traditional gender roles and evidently has a very low view of gay men and lesbians. That might be enough for many readers to decide that they cannot vote for Transhuman and Subhuman, but it's not the worst problem with the book.
Note, in particular, that my mere disagreement with Wright's worldview would not lead me to try to silence him or punish him, or to characterise his views and attitudes in ways that go beyond the evidence. For example, he makes clear that he has a traditionally sexist approach to gender relations and roles. He would not characterise it as "sexist", of course, but he spells out his views quite clearly, and the approach he describes is, viewed from outside, a paradigmatically sexist one. I would not, however, go further and call him a misogynist in an attempt to discredit or punish him. He shows no sign of actually hating, or even disliking or despising, women, and it's sufficient to be accurate about wrongheaded and socially destructive views, rather than engaging in hyperbole and misrepresentation. (That said, Wright does appear to be an outright homophobe. The standard Roman Catholic position on homosexuality is homophobic enough to merit the label.)
At the same time, Wright is verbally talented. Better, he really does know a great deal about the history and techniques of science fiction/fantasy writing. As long as he focuses closely on these topics, he provides valuable information and insights. I venture to think that if he could discipline himself for the task he could produce a useful book on the subject, and even this one contains enough worthwhile material to be worth reading - if you can stomach the rest if it.
What ruins the book is that a very large proportion of the text consists of self-indulgent, abusive attacks on opponents. Once he starts writing about hot-button cultural or political controversies - and he does so for much of the book - Wright does not explain or analyse, at least not with any charity or fairness. He does not seek detachment, or critical distance, from the views that he is inclined to. There is no hint of an effort to persuade his opponents through reason and argument. Instead, he propounds, declaims, rants, speculates irresponsibly about others' motivations, and wildly attributes viciousness of character to people who disagree with his view of the world. Some of it - a lot of it - couldn't be much more extreme.
Does this material contain any grain of truth of truth at all? Perhaps. Almost any position developed by an intelligent person contains some grain of truth, and I freely admit at least one point. There have been many excesses of political correctness on the Left, with some dire results. See the recent abuse received by Joss Whedon over aspects of Avengers: Age of Ultron as just one example among many. For another example, see the farcical persecution of Laura Kipnis by her employing university.
But Wright's own style is as unfair and vitriolic as any of this, leading to a book that is full to bursting with moralistic, bad-tempered nonsense. Despite some intelligent and useful content when its author focuses on what he knows a lot about - again, the history and techniques of the SF and fantasy genres - this is nowhere near a book that merits my vote for a Hugo Award.
Moon (2009), dir. by Duncan Jones - NOTE SPOILERS!
This British movie, directed by Duncan Jones and starring Sam Rockwell, has the trappings of a serious work of science fiction. The sets and machines show considerable realism for a story supposedly set on the Moon's surface, the pace moves rather slowly, and the mystery is solved gradually. There is relatively little violent action, and when two men fight the scuffle is clumsy and unspectacular.
Moon held my interest, despite the slow pacing, and I do recommend it to SF aficianados as one alternative to fare that depends on spectacle, special effects, and violent conflict. Nonetheless, it's a movie that ultimately fails to convince.
That is partly because the resolution depends on what has long been a cliché - the employment of human reproductive cloning for wicked purposes by an unscrupulous business corporation. Can we please put this trope to bed for a few decades, and along with it the more general use of cloning to code for evil?
I gave a spoiler warning in the heading to this post. Here is another one, just in case. You've now been warned again.
The evil company, Lunar Industries, is mining helium-3 on the dark side of the Moon, with just one human operator (assisted by a clever and vocal computer system: GERTY) to oversee the workings of automated mining equipment. The operator, Sam Bell, is employed for a three-year term, keeping in regular contact with his pregnant wife on Earth.
Except (remember the spoiler warning)... the evil company has decided to staff its operation with a series of Sam Bell clones, each of which runs out of life toward the end of three years, to be replaced by a new, fully-developed clone with Sam's memories. Each successive clone thinks of itself - himself! - as at the beginning of the original Sam's term of work. To clarify, each clone is programmed with Sam's memories as they were at the beginning of Sam's trip to the Moon; each has to be tricked into thinking that it is still the year of Sam's arrival. As events turn out, Sam's wife is no longer pregnant: she actually had their baby, a girl called Eve, fifteen years before the main action.
It's mysterious how Lunar Industries manages to keep this arrangement secret, though I suppose it does a lot of clever lying and covering up, back on Earth. Bear in mind, that the helium-3 mined on the Moon is used in fusion reactors and provides for most of Earth's energy needs. This is not some obscure outfit, but, rather humankind's major energy supplier. You'd think it would be under some scrutiny.
It's also mysterious just how any of this is supposed to produce cost savings for the company that are significant in the scheme of things, when compared with some more straightforward means of staffing its mining operation. It does, admittedly, mean that the company doesn't need to train and transport a new astronaut every three years. On the other hand, it has gone to the trouble and expense of building a rather large secret vault of Sams on the Moon, to be unfrozen as needed. Furthermore, it has to maintain an elaborate charade to prevent Sam (the Sam in charge at any particular time) from speaking directly to anyone on Earth who is not a dupe of the company, from working out that he is not the original Sam, and even from discovering what year it is.
Given the trouble and cost associated with the scheme - not to mention the risk of being found out - it almost seems that the company runs its staffing arrangements as it does just to be evil. That might be acceptable in a different kind of movie with different conventions, aspirations, and standards. Here, I'm afraid, it really won't wash.
Moon held my interest, despite the slow pacing, and I do recommend it to SF aficianados as one alternative to fare that depends on spectacle, special effects, and violent conflict. Nonetheless, it's a movie that ultimately fails to convince.
That is partly because the resolution depends on what has long been a cliché - the employment of human reproductive cloning for wicked purposes by an unscrupulous business corporation. Can we please put this trope to bed for a few decades, and along with it the more general use of cloning to code for evil?
I gave a spoiler warning in the heading to this post. Here is another one, just in case. You've now been warned again.
The evil company, Lunar Industries, is mining helium-3 on the dark side of the Moon, with just one human operator (assisted by a clever and vocal computer system: GERTY) to oversee the workings of automated mining equipment. The operator, Sam Bell, is employed for a three-year term, keeping in regular contact with his pregnant wife on Earth.
Except (remember the spoiler warning)... the evil company has decided to staff its operation with a series of Sam Bell clones, each of which runs out of life toward the end of three years, to be replaced by a new, fully-developed clone with Sam's memories. Each successive clone thinks of itself - himself! - as at the beginning of the original Sam's term of work. To clarify, each clone is programmed with Sam's memories as they were at the beginning of Sam's trip to the Moon; each has to be tricked into thinking that it is still the year of Sam's arrival. As events turn out, Sam's wife is no longer pregnant: she actually had their baby, a girl called Eve, fifteen years before the main action.
It's mysterious how Lunar Industries manages to keep this arrangement secret, though I suppose it does a lot of clever lying and covering up, back on Earth. Bear in mind, that the helium-3 mined on the Moon is used in fusion reactors and provides for most of Earth's energy needs. This is not some obscure outfit, but, rather humankind's major energy supplier. You'd think it would be under some scrutiny.
It's also mysterious just how any of this is supposed to produce cost savings for the company that are significant in the scheme of things, when compared with some more straightforward means of staffing its mining operation. It does, admittedly, mean that the company doesn't need to train and transport a new astronaut every three years. On the other hand, it has gone to the trouble and expense of building a rather large secret vault of Sams on the Moon, to be unfrozen as needed. Furthermore, it has to maintain an elaborate charade to prevent Sam (the Sam in charge at any particular time) from speaking directly to anyone on Earth who is not a dupe of the company, from working out that he is not the original Sam, and even from discovering what year it is.
Given the trouble and cost associated with the scheme - not to mention the risk of being found out - it almost seems that the company runs its staffing arrangements as it does just to be evil. That might be acceptable in a different kind of movie with different conventions, aspirations, and standards. Here, I'm afraid, it really won't wash.
Monday, June 01, 2015
Some more on the 2015 Hugo Voting Packet
Sorry, folks, but this might all be a bit random for the next few days - I'm reading some of the shorter material more or less as it strikes me, rather than in any sensible order. So, three more items for me to comment on:
1. "On the Spiritual Plain" by Lou Antonelli (nominated for Best Short Story). I wish I could have liked this tale of human/alien interaction, but it doesn't belong in an award nomination list at this level. I expect that some readers might assume I'm hostile to its religious theme, but that doesn't bother me at all (I may be somewhat anti-religious, but I'm not a fanatic). Quite simply, the story is not up to Hugo standard in its basic technique. Some good copyediting might have improved it, but even with a lot of additional work this would not, as I see it, be a legitimate Hugo-winning story. Antonelli is a prolific, well-credentialed writer (particularly of short stories), but if he has published something worthy of a major international award, this is not it. Note: The story is often listed as "On a Spiritual Plain" but the title on the version received by voters is clearly "On the Spiritual Plain" - go figure.
2. Rat Queens Volume 1: Sass and Sorcery - written by Curtis J. Weibe and illustrated by Roc Upchurch (nominated for Best Graphic Story). This bawdy fantasy romp, set in a Tolkienesque secondary universe complete with elves, orcs, and trolls, entertained me from beginning to end. The characters who make up the eponymous Rat Queens - a band of magical (female) adventurers - are unfailingly fun to watch, and are strongly distinguished in their individual designs and personalities. The action is fast-paced, and I'm all for the non-stop violence and low comedy. It's a hoot, but does it have sufficient gravitas to merit a Hugo Award? Debatable, perhaps... but I wouldn't be wanting to stand in its way. I rate it a bit below the next item, but it has its attractions.
3. Saga Volume Three - written by Brian K. Vaughan and illustrated by Fiona Staples (nominated for Best Graphic Story). Here we have a potential winner. I rate it below Ms. Marvel, but an earlier volume of this complicated, engaging space opera has already won a Hugo Award (in 2013). The characters are worth caring about; the storyline is intriguing; and the overall narrative, when it's complete, could become a classic of its kind.
1. "On the Spiritual Plain" by Lou Antonelli (nominated for Best Short Story). I wish I could have liked this tale of human/alien interaction, but it doesn't belong in an award nomination list at this level. I expect that some readers might assume I'm hostile to its religious theme, but that doesn't bother me at all (I may be somewhat anti-religious, but I'm not a fanatic). Quite simply, the story is not up to Hugo standard in its basic technique. Some good copyediting might have improved it, but even with a lot of additional work this would not, as I see it, be a legitimate Hugo-winning story. Antonelli is a prolific, well-credentialed writer (particularly of short stories), but if he has published something worthy of a major international award, this is not it. Note: The story is often listed as "On a Spiritual Plain" but the title on the version received by voters is clearly "On the Spiritual Plain" - go figure.
2. Rat Queens Volume 1: Sass and Sorcery - written by Curtis J. Weibe and illustrated by Roc Upchurch (nominated for Best Graphic Story). This bawdy fantasy romp, set in a Tolkienesque secondary universe complete with elves, orcs, and trolls, entertained me from beginning to end. The characters who make up the eponymous Rat Queens - a band of magical (female) adventurers - are unfailingly fun to watch, and are strongly distinguished in their individual designs and personalities. The action is fast-paced, and I'm all for the non-stop violence and low comedy. It's a hoot, but does it have sufficient gravitas to merit a Hugo Award? Debatable, perhaps... but I wouldn't be wanting to stand in its way. I rate it a bit below the next item, but it has its attractions.
3. Saga Volume Three - written by Brian K. Vaughan and illustrated by Fiona Staples (nominated for Best Graphic Story). Here we have a potential winner. I rate it below Ms. Marvel, but an earlier volume of this complicated, engaging space opera has already won a Hugo Award (in 2013). The characters are worth caring about; the storyline is intriguing; and the overall narrative, when it's complete, could become a classic of its kind.
Sex Criminals Volume 1: One Weird Trick - Hugo Voting (with basic spoilers)
This is a quirky, mildly erotic - and sometimes quite funny - story about characters who are able to stop time when they have orgasms... enabling them to get up to all sorts of nefarious shenanigans. Hence the title: "sex criminals".
Good for the creators, Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarksy, for having the amusing idea, and for running with it for laughs. To be honest, though, Sex Criminals Vol. 1 didn't do a lot for me. Your mileage may vary, so by all means check it out if what I've sketched sounds like it might be your thing. For myself, I'd be voting for Ms. Marvel over this in the Best Graphic Story Category.
Good for the creators, Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarksy, for having the amusing idea, and for running with it for laughs. To be honest, though, Sex Criminals Vol. 1 didn't do a lot for me. Your mileage may vary, so by all means check it out if what I've sketched sounds like it might be your thing. For myself, I'd be voting for Ms. Marvel over this in the Best Graphic Story Category.
Ms. Marvel vol. 1 - Hugo voting
As previously noted, I plan to read as much as possible of the material in the Hugo Voters Packet in an effort to inform myself fully before voting. On this blog, I'll discuss much of what I read, although I will not normally do so in substantial detail that involves significant spoilers. (If and when I publish significant spoilers, they will be accompanied by a warning.)
I've begun my efforts by reading Ms. Marvel Vol. 1, scripted by G. Willow Wilson and drawn by Adrian Alphona, which is nominated in the Best Graphic Story category. I haven't yet read anything else among the works nominated in the category, and as yet I have no view about the likely winner, but I found this volume quite charming.
The new Ms. Marvel is Kamala Khan, a 16-y.o. Muslim girl of ethnic Pakistani background, living in Jersey City. Her support cast includes school friends; her well-meaning, but overly strict, parents; and a zealous brother. One evening, Kamala gains a suite of powers involving size-changing and shapeshifting, and she initially patterns herself on Captain Marvel (i.e. the original Ms. Marvel, Carol Danvers), whom she reveres. Part of the story's ongoing fun involves jokes about the sexy costumes of superheroines and the impossibly perfect image of Captain Marvel in particular ... which Kamala is all too aware she cannot live up to.
Much like Peter Parker - Spider-Man - Kamala has to deal with the complications of balancing the demands of superheroism against the problems of ordinary, day-to-day life with her family. In fact, this first volume of the series displays something of the same freshness that the original run of Spider-Man was so notable for in its day, back in the 1960s. Clearly enough, that was just the effect Marvel Comics was aiming for, but it doesn't feel at all stale or cynical. By and large, I think it was mission accomplished for Marvel and its creative team.
I hope this character, and the cast established around her, end up being successful over the long haul - and particularly that Ms. Marvel might retain its current charm rather than turning into just another overwrought superhero book with the usual kind of obvious glamour and the almost inevitable escalations in power levels that can make characters less relatable.
I've begun my efforts by reading Ms. Marvel Vol. 1, scripted by G. Willow Wilson and drawn by Adrian Alphona, which is nominated in the Best Graphic Story category. I haven't yet read anything else among the works nominated in the category, and as yet I have no view about the likely winner, but I found this volume quite charming.
The new Ms. Marvel is Kamala Khan, a 16-y.o. Muslim girl of ethnic Pakistani background, living in Jersey City. Her support cast includes school friends; her well-meaning, but overly strict, parents; and a zealous brother. One evening, Kamala gains a suite of powers involving size-changing and shapeshifting, and she initially patterns herself on Captain Marvel (i.e. the original Ms. Marvel, Carol Danvers), whom she reveres. Part of the story's ongoing fun involves jokes about the sexy costumes of superheroines and the impossibly perfect image of Captain Marvel in particular ... which Kamala is all too aware she cannot live up to.
Much like Peter Parker - Spider-Man - Kamala has to deal with the complications of balancing the demands of superheroism against the problems of ordinary, day-to-day life with her family. In fact, this first volume of the series displays something of the same freshness that the original run of Spider-Man was so notable for in its day, back in the 1960s. Clearly enough, that was just the effect Marvel Comics was aiming for, but it doesn't feel at all stale or cynical. By and large, I think it was mission accomplished for Marvel and its creative team.
I hope this character, and the cast established around her, end up being successful over the long haul - and particularly that Ms. Marvel might retain its current charm rather than turning into just another overwrought superhero book with the usual kind of obvious glamour and the almost inevitable escalations in power levels that can make characters less relatable.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
The Forever War by Joe Haldeman - review with spoilers
I followed up my recent re-read of Heinlein's Starship Troopers by re-reading Joe Haldeman's The Forever War (my copy was signed by Joe way back in 1980, when I first met him... we must both have been so young back then...).
Haldeman's book is often seen as an answer to, or critique of, Heinlein's - and there's some truth in that. But it also owes much to Heinlein's, with similar narrative structures and techniques on display.
The Forever War compellingly depicts the harshness of military training and the sheer terror, danger, and suffering of armed combat; but to be fair to Heinlein, Starship Troopers does not deny or downplay any of these things. They are always present, and even emphasised, yet they are painted with an overlay of anti-glamorous glamour. By that, I mean that there is no glamour in the daily discipline and tasks of a working soldier, as presented by Heinlein - it's all acknowledged as difficult, tedious, demanding, and dangerous - but there's a kind of allure or mystique created around being the sort of person who will step up and embrace this as a form of social responsibility. Haldeman, by contrast, removes even that kind of attraction from his portrayal of military life and all that it involves.
Like Starship Troopers, The Forever War is told in the first person by a narrator who has obviously survived the experiences he describes to us. In each case, the narrative depicts the military career of an individual soldier as he advances through the ranks. There is, perhaps, a grittier feel to Haldeman's prose: more focus on the grim details of training, work, and combat, as if we were there ourselves, with less reflection on the experience from the narrator's current perspective. When, however, that reflection is offered, it comes from a voice that sounds far more bleak and cynical than that of Heinlein's narrator, Juan ("Johnnie") Rico.
By contrast with Rico, Haldeman's William Mandella never comes to appreciate the essential benevolence and wisdom - or the necessity - of the military forces in which he serves. There's no sign of any of this - at most, we can say that some individual officers are personally impressive, and that Mandella encounters some of the difficulties of active command in a war zone. If Starship Troopers can be read as recruitment propaganda, The Forever War is fairly much the opposite.
Most shockingly, however, the eponymous war does not actually last forever (unlike the war against the Bugs in Starship Troopers, it has an ending that is revealed in the book). The shocking part is that the war turns out to have been completely unnecessary, based on a misunderstanding for which human beings, and especially human military leaders, have been mainly responsible. The dreaded and (to humans) visually disgusting enemy - the Taurans - have been the relatively innocent party throughout, while we have been the aggressors from the start.
Whereas Heinlein takes war to be inevitable and beyond moral criticism - its inevitability is an amoral feature of the background against which moral judgments are made - Haldeman presents war not only as Hell (Heinlein also does this, and with almost as much literary force) but as an unnecessary, futile, absurd sort of Hell. Whereas Heinlein depicts high-level military commanders as essentially wise and benevolent, Haldeman depicts them as utterly ruthless in their exploitation of the men and women who serve under them.
Leaving aside its obvious critique of war and the military, The Forever War contains much in the way of social and moral commentary as it depicts the varied mores of several periods in future human history. Because Mandella spends much of his military service in space vessels travelling at relativistic velocities, he effectively keeps time-travelling into the future. That is, in fact, one reason why he renews his military service: there is no place for him in the radically changed human society that he encounters the first time he returns to Earth from a battle with the Taurans. But it also gives Haldeman the opportunity to comment slyly on sexual mores and varied conceptions of freedom.
Perhaps strangely, Haldeman provides a happy ending in a way that Heinlein does not. The war is eventually resolved amicably and abandoned by both sides, and Mandella finally discovers a path out of military service, along with his lover, Marygay Porter. If we don't buy Heinlein's line about the necessity of war, we may actually see the narrative arc of his novel as more pessimistic than that of Haldeman's. (Conversely, the ending of The Forever War feels, to an extent, like a cop-out, given all that we have seen to that point; whatever its weaknesses, and however much its political philosophy might seem untenable or infuriating, no one could make that particular criticism of Starship Troopers.)
Over the past forty years or more, Haldeman has been one of the most respected SF writers among his peers, while also establishing a large fan base. The Forever War shows why he's so admired and popular. He was - and is - a superb exponent of the craft of fiction writing. His portrayals of futuristic equipment and military tactics are especially vivid and convincing. There's always a sense with Haldeman that he's the real deal: as a talented and capable author, and as someone who knows what he's writing about.
Haldeman's book is often seen as an answer to, or critique of, Heinlein's - and there's some truth in that. But it also owes much to Heinlein's, with similar narrative structures and techniques on display.
The Forever War compellingly depicts the harshness of military training and the sheer terror, danger, and suffering of armed combat; but to be fair to Heinlein, Starship Troopers does not deny or downplay any of these things. They are always present, and even emphasised, yet they are painted with an overlay of anti-glamorous glamour. By that, I mean that there is no glamour in the daily discipline and tasks of a working soldier, as presented by Heinlein - it's all acknowledged as difficult, tedious, demanding, and dangerous - but there's a kind of allure or mystique created around being the sort of person who will step up and embrace this as a form of social responsibility. Haldeman, by contrast, removes even that kind of attraction from his portrayal of military life and all that it involves.
Like Starship Troopers, The Forever War is told in the first person by a narrator who has obviously survived the experiences he describes to us. In each case, the narrative depicts the military career of an individual soldier as he advances through the ranks. There is, perhaps, a grittier feel to Haldeman's prose: more focus on the grim details of training, work, and combat, as if we were there ourselves, with less reflection on the experience from the narrator's current perspective. When, however, that reflection is offered, it comes from a voice that sounds far more bleak and cynical than that of Heinlein's narrator, Juan ("Johnnie") Rico.
By contrast with Rico, Haldeman's William Mandella never comes to appreciate the essential benevolence and wisdom - or the necessity - of the military forces in which he serves. There's no sign of any of this - at most, we can say that some individual officers are personally impressive, and that Mandella encounters some of the difficulties of active command in a war zone. If Starship Troopers can be read as recruitment propaganda, The Forever War is fairly much the opposite.
Most shockingly, however, the eponymous war does not actually last forever (unlike the war against the Bugs in Starship Troopers, it has an ending that is revealed in the book). The shocking part is that the war turns out to have been completely unnecessary, based on a misunderstanding for which human beings, and especially human military leaders, have been mainly responsible. The dreaded and (to humans) visually disgusting enemy - the Taurans - have been the relatively innocent party throughout, while we have been the aggressors from the start.
Whereas Heinlein takes war to be inevitable and beyond moral criticism - its inevitability is an amoral feature of the background against which moral judgments are made - Haldeman presents war not only as Hell (Heinlein also does this, and with almost as much literary force) but as an unnecessary, futile, absurd sort of Hell. Whereas Heinlein depicts high-level military commanders as essentially wise and benevolent, Haldeman depicts them as utterly ruthless in their exploitation of the men and women who serve under them.
Leaving aside its obvious critique of war and the military, The Forever War contains much in the way of social and moral commentary as it depicts the varied mores of several periods in future human history. Because Mandella spends much of his military service in space vessels travelling at relativistic velocities, he effectively keeps time-travelling into the future. That is, in fact, one reason why he renews his military service: there is no place for him in the radically changed human society that he encounters the first time he returns to Earth from a battle with the Taurans. But it also gives Haldeman the opportunity to comment slyly on sexual mores and varied conceptions of freedom.
Perhaps strangely, Haldeman provides a happy ending in a way that Heinlein does not. The war is eventually resolved amicably and abandoned by both sides, and Mandella finally discovers a path out of military service, along with his lover, Marygay Porter. If we don't buy Heinlein's line about the necessity of war, we may actually see the narrative arc of his novel as more pessimistic than that of Haldeman's. (Conversely, the ending of The Forever War feels, to an extent, like a cop-out, given all that we have seen to that point; whatever its weaknesses, and however much its political philosophy might seem untenable or infuriating, no one could make that particular criticism of Starship Troopers.)
Over the past forty years or more, Haldeman has been one of the most respected SF writers among his peers, while also establishing a large fan base. The Forever War shows why he's so admired and popular. He was - and is - a superb exponent of the craft of fiction writing. His portrayals of futuristic equipment and military tactics are especially vivid and convincing. There's always a sense with Haldeman that he's the real deal: as a talented and capable author, and as someone who knows what he's writing about.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Footnotes to Plato
I've accepted an invitation to join the new Footnotes to Plato [edit: "Cogito"] blog at The Conversation. As yet, none of the blog members have dipped their toes in the water and begun writing there, but it's an interesting - and certainly diverse - group of philosophers based at Australian universities. My author profile at The Conversation is here.
I'll link here to any and all future publications of mine that appear on The Conversation's website.
I'll link here to any and all future publications of mine that appear on The Conversation's website.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Amanda Marcotte, Black Widow, and Avengers: Age of Ultron
While I'm giving credit to Amanda Marcotte - a cultural commentator with whom I've sometimes disagreed in the past, and one with whom I'll doubtless have disagreements in the future - she also offered some charity and clarity in recently discussing Avengers: Age of Ultron.
Here, the issue was an allegedly sexist representation of the Black Widow, when it's revealed in her dialogue with Bruce Banner that she was forcibly sterilized at the command of her political masters. I share some of Marcotte's annoyance at the frequent valorization of motherhood in our culture, but I also share her understanding that forced sterilization is a terrible event for any woman to have to endure. Moreover, as Marcotte points out, we are given plenty of other information about what else the character was put through in her back story and the deeds she's carried out that make her (in her own eyes) a kind of monster. The attempts to find sexism in the relevant movie scene show an overly hostile or suspicious approach to the movie mixed with (as Marcotte makes clear) a degree of cinematic illiteracy.
Age of Ultron came in for a lot of flak on grounds relating to its supposed sexual and racial politics, but none of the flak really seems to have much merit. In an email exchange with Jerry Coyne, I tried to get clear what the issues seemed to be, and (with my permission) Jerry published my comments in a post a few weeks ago, where he discussed the whole kerfuffle. With one spelling correction, I'll repeat what I said in order to get it all in one place:
I do have some insight into the background, having seen the movie and knowing a bit about the Marvel Comics stories that it draws on. There seem to be four things that have led to the attacks:
1. The movie is as violent (in a stylised way, etc.) as you’d expect of a superhero movie. There’s a scene, as I mention in my review, where it makes some fun of male competitiveness, etc., but as you’d expect a lot of it consists of battle scenes. [Jonathan] McIntosh has been banging on about this on Twitter: “toxic masculinity” and so on.
2. The main female superheroine is the Black Widow, played by Scarlett Johansson. In her backstory, she was a Russian spy, trained to be a perfect/near-superhuman assassin before she turned good, etc., etc. Some people seem to object to the revelation that she was trained and brainwashed from childhood, which I suppose might arguably deny her agency and responsibility or something. Second, she is captured at one stage by the villain – the malevolent artificial intelligence, Ultron – creating a “damsel in distress” situation. Third, it’s revealed that she was forcibly sterilised as part of the process of brainwashing/training her. In a scene with Bruce Banner (the Hulk), with whom there’s a romantic sub-plot, she reveals this, and she comments that both of them are monsters. This has been taken to indicate that Whedon thinks that women who can’t bear children are monsters. In context, that’s not what she’s saying at all. She’s reassuring him, in response to his fear that any children he had would be freaks, that she can’t have children anyway. She also tells him that both of them are, in their ways, monstrous.
3. At one stage Tony Stark/Iron Man – who is always a bit of an ass – apparently jokes (I missed this entirely) that if he were in charge he’d institute the right of primae noctis. This is apparently viewed as a rape joke.
4. Whedon is supposed to be a racist for presenting two characters – Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch – as Eastern European but not of any other particular ethnicity beyond the fictional Balkan country they are from. In the comics, they were long supposed to be the children of Magneto (who is Jewish) and his Roma wife, and they were brought up as Roma. Eliding this supposedly makes Whedon/Marvel Studios racist. I liked the connection with Magneto myself, and I regret that Marvel has now altered it in the comics as well, but much of what is going on here relates to intellectual property rights. The movie rights to Magneto are held by FOX, not by Marvel Studios. The IP thing with these companies/properties is a mess.
Some of these points about the movie could be worth civil, subtle discussion by aficionados, but nothing in them could possibly excuse the way Whedon has been abused.
I don't propose to go more deeply into these points. Some might be arguable, or at least worth discussion, but they are all dubious, and, once again, at a minimum none merit the abuse that was handed out to Whedon on Twitter.
For the sake of completeness and fairness, I should note that Whedon subsequently played down the abuse as a factor in his decision to leave Twitter. I gather that many people think this was disingenuous, but I'm inclined to take it more or less at face value. It seems that it was not just the abuse on this particular occasion that got Whedon to leave so much as Twitter's ongoing effect in distracting him - not only the abusive comments, but even comments expressing praise. As he says (see below), he is used to being "attacked by militant feminists" so that in itself would not have run him off Twitter.
That makes sense to me. Twitter can, indeed, be irritating and distracting. To be honest, I sometimes feel that it's bad for me, helping make me a more anxious, exhausted, distracted, bad-tempered person than I want to be ... and I'm sometimes tempted to leave it, even though I find it useful.
Still, none of that excuses the abuse Whedon received, even if that particular wave of inexcusable abuse was not, in some simple, direct cause-and-effect way, the cause of his departure.
I don't necessarily agree with every point Whedon makes about the internet, Twitter, and the current culture wars, but I must also note (and I share) his exasperation with feminists and liberals who waste time and resources by attacking their allies rather than showing solidarity:
Finally, Marcotte's piece makes a fair point - which I've also made in the past - that it would help if there were more women in leading roles in, for example, movies based on Marvel's Avengers. I'm pleased that there will be a movie based on Captain Marvel, a character I've wanted to see in the Marvel/Disney movies for a long time.
Here, the issue was an allegedly sexist representation of the Black Widow, when it's revealed in her dialogue with Bruce Banner that she was forcibly sterilized at the command of her political masters. I share some of Marcotte's annoyance at the frequent valorization of motherhood in our culture, but I also share her understanding that forced sterilization is a terrible event for any woman to have to endure. Moreover, as Marcotte points out, we are given plenty of other information about what else the character was put through in her back story and the deeds she's carried out that make her (in her own eyes) a kind of monster. The attempts to find sexism in the relevant movie scene show an overly hostile or suspicious approach to the movie mixed with (as Marcotte makes clear) a degree of cinematic illiteracy.
Age of Ultron came in for a lot of flak on grounds relating to its supposed sexual and racial politics, but none of the flak really seems to have much merit. In an email exchange with Jerry Coyne, I tried to get clear what the issues seemed to be, and (with my permission) Jerry published my comments in a post a few weeks ago, where he discussed the whole kerfuffle. With one spelling correction, I'll repeat what I said in order to get it all in one place:
I do have some insight into the background, having seen the movie and knowing a bit about the Marvel Comics stories that it draws on. There seem to be four things that have led to the attacks:
1. The movie is as violent (in a stylised way, etc.) as you’d expect of a superhero movie. There’s a scene, as I mention in my review, where it makes some fun of male competitiveness, etc., but as you’d expect a lot of it consists of battle scenes. [Jonathan] McIntosh has been banging on about this on Twitter: “toxic masculinity” and so on.
2. The main female superheroine is the Black Widow, played by Scarlett Johansson. In her backstory, she was a Russian spy, trained to be a perfect/near-superhuman assassin before she turned good, etc., etc. Some people seem to object to the revelation that she was trained and brainwashed from childhood, which I suppose might arguably deny her agency and responsibility or something. Second, she is captured at one stage by the villain – the malevolent artificial intelligence, Ultron – creating a “damsel in distress” situation. Third, it’s revealed that she was forcibly sterilised as part of the process of brainwashing/training her. In a scene with Bruce Banner (the Hulk), with whom there’s a romantic sub-plot, she reveals this, and she comments that both of them are monsters. This has been taken to indicate that Whedon thinks that women who can’t bear children are monsters. In context, that’s not what she’s saying at all. She’s reassuring him, in response to his fear that any children he had would be freaks, that she can’t have children anyway. She also tells him that both of them are, in their ways, monstrous.
3. At one stage Tony Stark/Iron Man – who is always a bit of an ass – apparently jokes (I missed this entirely) that if he were in charge he’d institute the right of primae noctis. This is apparently viewed as a rape joke.
4. Whedon is supposed to be a racist for presenting two characters – Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch – as Eastern European but not of any other particular ethnicity beyond the fictional Balkan country they are from. In the comics, they were long supposed to be the children of Magneto (who is Jewish) and his Roma wife, and they were brought up as Roma. Eliding this supposedly makes Whedon/Marvel Studios racist. I liked the connection with Magneto myself, and I regret that Marvel has now altered it in the comics as well, but much of what is going on here relates to intellectual property rights. The movie rights to Magneto are held by FOX, not by Marvel Studios. The IP thing with these companies/properties is a mess.
Some of these points about the movie could be worth civil, subtle discussion by aficionados, but nothing in them could possibly excuse the way Whedon has been abused.
I don't propose to go more deeply into these points. Some might be arguable, or at least worth discussion, but they are all dubious, and, once again, at a minimum none merit the abuse that was handed out to Whedon on Twitter.
For the sake of completeness and fairness, I should note that Whedon subsequently played down the abuse as a factor in his decision to leave Twitter. I gather that many people think this was disingenuous, but I'm inclined to take it more or less at face value. It seems that it was not just the abuse on this particular occasion that got Whedon to leave so much as Twitter's ongoing effect in distracting him - not only the abusive comments, but even comments expressing praise. As he says (see below), he is used to being "attacked by militant feminists" so that in itself would not have run him off Twitter.
That makes sense to me. Twitter can, indeed, be irritating and distracting. To be honest, I sometimes feel that it's bad for me, helping make me a more anxious, exhausted, distracted, bad-tempered person than I want to be ... and I'm sometimes tempted to leave it, even though I find it useful.
Still, none of that excuses the abuse Whedon received, even if that particular wave of inexcusable abuse was not, in some simple, direct cause-and-effect way, the cause of his departure.
I don't necessarily agree with every point Whedon makes about the internet, Twitter, and the current culture wars, but I must also note (and I share) his exasperation with feminists and liberals who waste time and resources by attacking their allies rather than showing solidarity:
"Believe me, I have been attacked by militant feminists since I got on Twitter. That’s something I’m used to. Every breed of feminism is attacking every other breed, and every subsection of liberalism is always busy attacking another subsection of liberalism, because god forbid they should all band together and actually fight for the cause."Yes, quite. Later in the same interview, he expresses frustration at the endless, politicized hyper-analysis that he receives:
"I’ve said before, when you declare yourself politically, you destroy yourself artistically," he said. "Because suddenly that’s the litmus test for everything you do — for example, in my case, feminism. If you don’t live up to the litmus test of feminism in this one instance, then you’re a misogynist. It circles directly back upon you."That noted, these issues do need to be discussed. But they can be discussed carefully and charitably, with some media literacy (such as I've praised Marcotte for) and without the layers of hostile parsing and decrying, and the "hate and then hate and then hate".
Finally, Marcotte's piece makes a fair point - which I've also made in the past - that it would help if there were more women in leading roles in, for example, movies based on Marvel's Avengers. I'm pleased that there will be a movie based on Captain Marvel, a character I've wanted to see in the Marvel/Disney movies for a long time.
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