Reading

Let’s talk about sex

| cjlevinson

I’m not enjoying writing at the moment. I don’t know if I’d call it writer’s block but I can’t work out where to go with Shards at the moment. It’s been a year since I finished the first draft and I’m still doing rewrites. The main stumbling block’s been getting my head around some of the themes, but recently there’s been another problem. The direction of the story has changed a lot and it’s causing a conflict for me with two of the characters.

They were going to be my star-crossed lovers, to borrow Shakespeare’s phrase, but in rewriting it their story has become less of the focus. Now I’m not sure where to go with it. The romance is still there but it’s not as important; I could cut it out, but the story would still lose something. Or I could keep going with it, but I’m worried it might seem exploitative… like the only reason it’s there is to follow formula.

Maybe I’m making too much of it, but I don’t want it to be one of those books where the dynamic just doesn’t feel right… particularly the sex. We’ve all read those books which seem hollow or have sex for sex’s sake; if you’ve read I Am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe you’ll know what I mean, and I still don’t know what Robert J. Sawyer was trying to do in Humans (a human and a neanderthal, WTF?). Writing sex scenes always makes me uncomfortable but the challenge is finding an aspect in the scene that affects the greater story… without the preceding scenes here, I’m not sure I can.

Anyway, while I’m working that out, it’s brought up an interesting topic. We’re a highly sexualised society, but we still rarely seem at ease with our sexuality. We watch sexy movies, read juicy novels, but do we talk about sex itself? Perhaps amongst our closest friends, but beyond that it’s usually awkward and behind closed doors; likewise we’re still uncomfortable with public displays of affection. It’s strange that sex can be seen as such a commercial entity, yet still remain something of a taboo as well. So when does marketing sex go too far? When does it become gratuitous?

I’m not sure myself. I was trying to think earlier of books/writers I’ve read that have used good sex scenes and I can’t think of many. Maybe Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series, Bear’s Darwin’s Radio… Bret Easton Ellis and Neil Gaiman for giving scenes an interesting dynamic. And of course DH Lawrence. But overall I don’t think many writers write sex scenes that well or realistically. Most scenes seem to be either lyrical and wafty or anatomical and overly detailed. I know Laurel K. Hamilton’s are dull and don’t interest me much; in a vampire novel, that’s not a good thing. There’s even an award for it – The Literary Review Bad Sex in Fiction Award.

A lot of sex scenes seem distant and it’s strange really that they’re presented in such a detached way; sex is such a natural part of our lives, you’d think writers would want to explore it in a more satisfactory and natural way. But maybe a realistic sex scene is almost impossible to write because it’s something words can’t adequately describe; it destroys the illusion, the feeling. A sex scene can be funny, awkward, escapist, but can it be interesting if it’s made to seem too real? Perhaps not; then it just becomes voyeurism.

I’m not sure I’d agree that writers include sex scenes purely for saleability or formula, though; I’m sure some do, but I’d hope that most still consider it a part of the story and the development of the characters. For that matter, I’m yet to see evidence that you need to have sex in a book for it to be marketable; for any books that don’t sell, it probably has more to do with plot and pace than whether or not the characters shagged on page 180.

There’s been a lot of fuss made over David Duchovny’s new series Californication recently and that sort of plays into this as well. Californication is an adult sex comedy, something of a throw-back to the ’70s movies like Shampoo, and it’s been garnering criticism for its content; one columnist went so far as to call network executives pornographers, while some conservative groups are calling for a boycott of sponsors who advertise during episodes. Personally I find the controversy bizarre. Certainly Californication is not to everyone’s taste, but I don’t see what the networks have done wrong; over here it’s on at an adult-only time and each episode has an M/MA rating. It’s not for children and no-one’s suggesting it is; it’s probably not even appropriate for some adults. But we’re a democracy, aren’t we? If you don’t like a show, turn it off – seems like the ultimate form of free choice to me. What I’ve seen of Californication is actually quite interesting; yes, there’s sex and drugs and nudity, but beneath it is a story about a lost man trying to get his family back. The writing’s sharp and at least it’s something other than reality TV for a change.

Californication definitely markets itself on its adult content, but I don’t think it crosses the line in to exploiting it. This website, though, has to cross that line. It’s for a German company that has created a new cosmetic fragrance for men called Vulva Original. It’s marketed as “the erotic, intimate scent of an irresistible woman… a beguiling vaginal scent”. Um, what? This has to be the most bizarre product I have ever heard of. Just who would be interested in a product like that? And for the love of God, why? It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so gross.

But it’s an example of how an entire industry has evolved around our fascination with sex. Some of it is part of a healthy sexual appetite, but then you get something like this or the rise in pornography; you could argue that it doesn’t hurt anyone but look at Maddison Gabriel being named the face of Gold Coast Fashion Week – she’s just twelve. It sexualises her to adults and surely must be going to mess with her head later on. But it creates publicity and so it’s achieved everything the organisers wanted.

And that brings us back to this idea of marketing sex. As a culture we’re fascinated by sex, so it’s inevitable that that fascination would be exploited. The simple truth is sex sells and companies, writers, directors, musicians use it for marketability. The real question is how far is too far? Something like Californication is pushing the boundaries; I think something like Vulva Original has gone way past them.

For writers, though, I think it’s fairly simple: if you aim for the characters and story to change though the scene, you’ve done your job. And I guess that’s what I’m trying to do with Shards… so I’ll probably keep those scenes. Now I’ll just have to go back and finish it! 😉

Site of the Week: Faqqly

| cjlevinson

faqqly.jpg

Site of the Week (17/9/07)
Faqqly
Rating: star4.jpg

Faqqly is a social networking site with a difference. Unlike other sites which focus more on how you present yourself than getting to know other users, Faqqly is all about creating your own questions page (FAQ) that people can comment on. Set up a list of topics and other users can drop by to ask questions about anything they want – your life, interests, what you’re reading, etc. It’s a bit like the reverse of Twitter; instead of you saying what you’re doing now, other people ask you, and the subjects are much broader. You can even strike up an ongoing dialogue about various issues and topics, exploring them in great depth.

Faqqly was founded by then 20-year-old UCLA senior David Liu, whose goal was to build a collaborative website based on real life community interaction. The social dynamic is definitely the strongest part of Faqqly, but its ease of use is also impressive. Setting up your questions page is as simple as editing your profile and adding the topics you’re interested in. People ask questions by typing in the ask box, and there are hourly questions of the moment to ensure updates are frequent.

Faqqly’s main drawback is the flipside of its being a community site; the level of interaction depends on the kinds of questions people ask. Questions like what are you doing? or what movie did you see? are a good introduction but won’t lead to much of an ongoing dialogue; questions revolving around social issues or specialist knowledge are more likely to form a dialogue but aren’t the kinds of questions most people are going to ask. Like anything, the conversation is only as interesting as what the users bring to it.

Whether Faqqly will be a long-term success is difficult to know, but it’s an interesting social experiment and one that’s definitely worth checking out.

Timescape by Gregory Benford

| cjlevinson

TimescapeGregory Benford’s Timescape was an important novel when it was published in 1980 as it was one of the first science fiction novels to accurately depict scientists as people. Praised by critics for its accessibility and mix of character development, interpersonal drama and SF themes, it received the 1980 Nebula and 1981 John W. Campbell Memorial awards. Benford has written some of my favourite novels in the past – notably Great Sky River -, so I’ve always felt a little guilty that I’ve not read Timescape. Well, I finally got round to it, and while it’s still a good read, it’s dated more than I thought it would have.

Timescape‘s story is an interesting one, topical in 1980 and it still is today. It’s told from two different viewpoints, both 18 years distant from the novel’s publication in 1980. The first storyline takes place in 1998, at a time when the Earth is falling apart due to human waste; ravaged by ecological experimentation, the climate has changed drastically, giving rise to algal blooms and threatening numerous species. In England a team of scientists connected to the University of Cambridge, headed by John Renfrew, begins a project to try and contact the past to warn them of the effects their experimentations shall have in the future. The second thread of the story involves Gordon Bernstein, a young scientist at the University of California, La Jolla, who in 1962 begins to notice interference in one of his experiments – a message he tries to unravel…

As the critics noted Timescape‘s strongest aspect is Benford’s depiction of his characters. They’re scientists and often deal with complicated equations, but the story rarely becomes bogged down by details because it’s about much more than science. The characters are complicated, textured; the intricacies of their scientific worlds are well sketched out, but likewise are their private lives portrayed with careful detail. Ian Peterson, who oversees Renfrew’s project, is a womanizing member of the World Council who becomes infatuated with Renfrew’s wife Marjorie; Renfrew’s reserved insecurities are played out throughout much of the novel; Bernstein’s growing obsession with deciphering the message begins to impact his relationship with girlfriend Penny. It’s a balance of science and believable drama that few writers achieve in SF.

The characterisations serve another purpose in the novel as well: they draw a parallel with Benford’s scientific worlds. There’s no way around the science in Timescape; it’s detailed and to make his ideas accessible, Benford uses the characters as a bridge. Bernstein’s storyline, for instance, revolves just as much around his interactions with Penny, showing a distinct collision between their different ideologies: the worlds of a Democrat and a Republican, a New York Jew and a Californian Gentile. If the reader can accept the collision of their worlds as reality, then accepting the collision between 1962 and 1998 seems more believable. Likewise with each metaphysical jump in the novel, a physical equivalent is created to reflect it; the shelves in Marjorie’s and Renfrew’s kitchen shift each time a new scientific idea is introduced, starting crooked, before straightening, and becoming aslant again. The literary elements work to support the scientific concepts, forming a rather unique hybrid where no element can exist without the other.

This is where Timescape started to date for me, though. At times it felt like Benford created his characters purely to draw those parallels; he reinforces them frequently and at times the characters slow the story more than the science. Perhaps that shows how much has changed since 1980, that we’re more accepting and understanding of hard science in a story now, not needing it to be meshed with endless characterization to be accessible. Still, given the amount of detail in the characters, it’s strange that several just disappear toward the end of the novel. Marjorie, after her affair, barely appears again; neither does Penny. It feels like they served their purpose and were just discarded at the end. Timescape has also dated with its technology; limited computers, no mobile phones… having lived through the differences, the 1998 storyline feels more foreign than 1962 (which is the point, in the end).

Putting those details aside, though, Timescape holds up well. Its story is interesting, the science is still current, and its mix of science and characterisation is rare in a genre not often recognized for its depth. It remains accessible to people who might not normally read SF, as well as to fans of the genre, and is well worth reading for anyone interested in visiting (or revisiting) Benford’s worlds.

The Book Quiz

| cjlevinson

You’re The Sound and the Fury
by William Faulkner.
Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue, but you’re mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you’ve lost. People often have a hard time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

I found this quiz a few days ago. It’s a bit different to a lot of the ones you come across; it has 6 questions and 64 different outcomes, with each question taking you in a different direction. Seems to know me pretty well: strong-willed but deeply confused, I signify nothing… that’s me in a nutshell. 😉

5 graphic novels that defined the genre

| cjlevinson

“Graphic novel” is a moniker that’s often used to distinguish between artistic novels and traditional comics. But it’s really meant to apply to works created as a single narrative, exploring complicated themes. Here are 5 that have helped to define the genre.

5) The Dark Knight Returns
Frank Miller
Originally published as a DC mini-series, Frank Miller’s take on Batman reintroduced readers to the psychologically dark Batman of the 1930s when most still associated the character with the 1960s TV series. Featuring a tortured character who returns to fight crime 10 years after his retirement, The Dark Knight Returns was notable for introducing more adult-oriented comic storytelling to the mainstream and sparking the more realistic era of superhero stories.

4) David Boring
Daniel Clowes
Daniel Clowes is perhaps best known for Ghost World and David Boring is similar in many ways, depicting the stark realism of ordinary life through the eyes of an indifferent anti-hero. Primarily it’s about the romance of Boring and Wanda and Boring’s learning about his father, and what might be the end of the world. It’s a dark tale of an ordinary man in a larger than life story and is difficult to encapsulate; it’s unique and deliciously funny.

3) A Contract with God
Will Eisner
Consisting of four short stories detailing life in the Bronx in the 1930s, A Contract with God is a mix of autobiography and existential narrative. Eisner’s work was the first genuine attempt to tell truly human stories through images and words; the narratives are interwoven only through their common setting, immigrant culture and themes of life, death and faith. A work with all the complexity of literary fiction, it’s often regarded as a standard-bearer in the genre.

2) Maus: A Survivor’s Tale
Art Spiegelman
A Pulitzer Prize winner, Spiegelman’s Maus: A Survivor’s Tale is a memoir that presents the Holocaust in comic form. It recounts the story of his father’s hardships and survival through the Holocaust, but has a sad satirical edge that shows the true effects of war. By depicting the characters in animal forms – Jews as mice, Germans as cats, etc. – and showing the effect on the survivors in later years, Spiegelman presents an uncompromising look at our history. Maus transcends genre and is filling an important role in keeping the Holocaust alive as fewer survivors remain each year.

1) Watchmen
Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons
Watchmen is the graphic novel that, with The Dark Knight Returns, Maus and Moore’s other great work, V for Vendetta, changed the perception of comics forever, giving rise to “serious” graphic novels. Watchmen can only be described as the deconstruction of the superhero; set in a world where superhero’s are real and face everyday ethical and personal dilemmas, it examines the idea of power and control in society. Its realism and humanity is unparalleled, with all but one of the superheroes having no recognizable superpowers. Watchmen was the only graphic novel to be included in Time Magazine’s All-Time 100 Novels list.

Natural History by Justina Robson

| cjlevinson

natural.jpgI’ve been wanting to read Justina Robson for a while. Through novels like Silver Screen (1999) and Mappa Mundi (2000), Robson has developed a reputation for writing cutting-edge SF while still paying attention to the characters and the idea that the future is based on our present. That’s why when I finally picked up Natural History (2003), I was a little disappointed.

Natural History begins with an incident in space. Voyager Lonestar Isol collides with debris, which she soon realises is really the remains of an alien ship. But there is something else here as well, an artifact left drifting for thousands of years. It is a jump engine and allows Isol to return home… only, it is not Earth it takes her to first, but another planet, a planet Isol has longed to find – a place that could become home for the Forged and the rest of her kind.

The Forged are another form of human, who have been engineered to serve the Unevolveds; the first Forged were given the forms of terraforming starships that brought life to Mars and other planets, and now their forms range from scout ships (like Isol) to animal-like Forged who perform menial tasks on Earth. Isol is one of the most senior Forged, and a heated debate is raging on whether the Forged should be granted independence from the rest of humanity. Isol wants the planet, called Idlewild, to become a homeplanet for the Forged if they secede, but the Unevolved (and several Forged) are uncertain… they don’t trust this engine technology Isol has found, and want to know that Idlewild is safe and devoid of life before making a decision. Isol reluctantly agrees to take an archeologist to Idlewild, to discover its secrets…

Robson is often described as the future of British SF and you can see why with Natural History. She paints a vivid landscape of a future far-removed from our own, tossing around theories about the essence of humanity and transcendence. So its being a bit of a mixed bag is disappointing. The premise for NH is solid, but I found that too much of the story becomes bogged down in politics and unnecessary detail for it to be truly engaging. It’s 200 pages before archaeologist Zephyr reaches Idlewild, the most interesting storyline; the rest is filled with the politics of the Forged and the Unevolved. Many of the character arcs feel largely underdeveloped as well; one character, Corvax, undertakes a journey of transformation in Uluru, an artificial universe only Forged can access, while another, Gritter, engages in petty crime and seems pointless. Robson utilises so many character perspectives that it seems to swamp the story; the most interesting characters are often neglected for long periods of time, particularly Zephyr, who has nothing to do until she reaches Idlewild.

Probably the biggest complaint I have with NH, though, is in not believing it. Robson goes to extreme lengths to convince the reader that her Forged are human, if unlike any kind of human we know… yet I didn’t find that convincing. They’re all supposed to be Forged, but Isol and Tatresi are so far removed from Corvax and Gritter as Forged that they could be different species, not different classes; they just don’t feel real. Also, while Robson tries to draw parallels with our own times to make her work accessible, in many ways that doesn’t work either; the idea that these giant human starships would use the same language, the very same expressions as we do now, seems ridiculous, thousands of years into the future – not to mention Corvax’s journey through Uluru, trying to be Unevolved and “normal”. And the ending is abrupt as well; for a person like Zephyr, who treasures being human so much, to give that away so willingly doesn’t seem like a natural conclusion, given her suspicion of the alien Stuff and Isol.

Still, it’s not a bad novel. Robson’s talent is there and the science is cutting-edge, particularly when dealing with 11-D and creating a decidedly alien race. And in many ways Natural History pays homage to vintage SF; a story of humans struggling to find themselves amidst a strange future and the mysteries of an alien world. It’s just a pity then that the rest of the novel is weighed down by its pace and characters, and ultimately feels hollow.

Too Much (But Never Enough)

| cjlevinson

land

Too Much (But Never Enough)
CJ Levinson

I walked across a sunburnt land
Tried to define myself amongst the sand
But all I found was a memory
Of something I’d tried to leave behind
You smiled at me from across the room
And I don’t know why I waste my time
Dreaming of something that can never be
Something that can never be

And I don’t know why I feel so shy
Because when I open my eyes, you’re standing right there
And I don’t know why I feel so high
Because when I open my eyes, the magic’s not there
It’s too much but never enough (too much but never enough)

I looked across the desolate land
Imagined the world in the palm of my hand
A voice on the wind called your name
But I was frozen at the wrong time to hear
We were like strangers falling in love
And I don’t know why I keep coming back for more
When you don’t even know who I am
No, you don’t know who I am

And I don’t know why I feel so shy
Because when I open my eyes, you’re standing right there
And I don’t know why I feel so high
Because when I open my eyes, the magic’s not there
It’s too much but never enough (too much but never enough)

Now we’re back where we belong
You with your promises, me on my knees
Begging forgiveness for something I don’t understand
It’s why I learnt to crawl before I walked

[Instrumental]

And I don’t know why I feel so shy
Because when I open my eyes, you’re standing right there
And I don’t know why I feel so high
Because when I open my eyes, the magic’s not there
It’s too much but never enough (too much but never enough)

Yes, it’s too much but never enough
Too much but never enough
Too much but never enough

Licenced under a Creative Commons Licence

Greed, boycotts and the impact for aspiring writers

| cjlevinson

Bookshop chain puts bite on small publishers
I’ve just been catching up on some of the news I’ve missed over the past week. Not sure how this slipped by, but apparently Angus & Robertson have started asking distributors and publishers to pay to have their books stocked and displayed in A&R stores. A&R is the most successful retail chain in Australia, one of the few to still be surviving despite increased sales for discount stores like K-Mart and Big W. I can’t understand what they’re doing; they’re practically shooting themselves in the foot. Getting people to support Australian authors is difficult enough, and now they want to alienate publishers so they don’t have any stock?

It’s created the bizarre situation that the leading bookchain in Australia will not be stocking the Miles Franklin Award winner for 2007, Carpentaria. And it seems like it’s all because of greed. A&R wants their smaller suppliers to subsidize losses for unsold books, and wants to make them pay before they even have the books on the shelves. Does that make sense to anyone else?

SMH published Michael Rakusin’s response to A&R’s decision. I was impressed by his letter. It’s articulate, angry, but doesn’t score cheap points; it’s not often you get to write a letter like that. Next time I get a condescending letter, I’m going to use “voluble hilarity” in the reply. From my point of view, I don’t blame A&R for wanting to increase their profit margin, particularly with strong market competition. But what the company has done is issued an ultimatum, and the people they’re really hurting are Australian authors. If publishing companies give in, advances will only be smaller, and while A&R won’t stock their works, that’s less exposure and fewer readers for their work as well. It’s a no-win situation. A&R claim they are “committed to stocking a wide range of titles and supporting Australian literature”, but right now that just seems like absolute garbage.

The Australian Society of Authors seems to think so too; they’ve condemned A&R and recommended book buyers boycott A&R owned stores over the new policy. I think I feel the same way. A&R appears to only want to stock books with guaranteed saleability, and for a company which is supposed to be proudly Australian, that is unacceptable. Where does it leave aspiring writers? Where does it leave people in small towns who can’t find books anywhere else? A&R are letting greed get in the way of their other responsibilities and we can’t just let that go.

I’ll be buying all my books from Dymocks and local book stores until A&R overturns their decision; seeing I have a birthday coming up in a month, that could be a few books. I’m glad to see that this has been gaining traction overseas as well, as it could set a dangerous precedent. Corey Doctorow lambasted A&R on Boing Boing, and Teresa Nielsen Hayden broke down the correspondence to make it understandable. Can you imagine if this happened in the US and Borders refused to stock Cormac McCarthy’s The Road? There’d be outrage; Oprah would be hitting them over the head with her microphone. Here, we’ll just have to see how much Angus & Robertson take before they reverse their decision.

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Springfield anymore…

| cjlevinson

chris_simp3.jpg Not sure about you, but I feel like I’ve been dodging spoilers all month. First there was Harry Potter, then The Simpsons Movie… HP was easier as most people read it at once, so you just had to avoid anything online. The Simpsons has been harder. I meant to see it opening day but got sidetracked – and then of course everyone I know wanted to talk about it. Seriously, it was starting to feel like something from “The Charge of the Light Brigade”. Spoilers to right of me, spoilers to left of me, spoilers in front of me, volley’d and thunder’d…

Anyway, I finally managed to see it over the weekend. Really enjoyed it. I was a little dubious going in; I’ve been a fan of the series since it started (I’m getting old, lol) but I haven’t been watching it as much over the last few years. The stories have been more about putting The Simpsons into strange situations than having any real plot. The movie though is much more like what I remember; quirky, but more about the relationships between Homer and Marge, Homer as a father to Bart. It was nice seeing the writers get the formula right after such a long wait.

The thing which surprised me was the number of families seeing the movie. The cinema was about 3/4 full and a lot of them were fathers and sons seeing it together. I’d not really thought about it before but The Simpsons has been around long enough to transcend 3 generations; if you were 14 when it started, it’s possible that your parents liked it and now you could have a child yourself who’s grown up with the show. And everyone seemed to get something different from it; the kids found the gags funny, while the parents sympathized with Homer trying to do the right thing (and failing).

My favourite parts were Bart’s nude debut (I almost choked at Flanders’ “Thank you, Lord, for this bountiful… penis!”) and Cargill’s manipulation of President Schwarzenegger, but I really enjoyed the scenes with Bart and Homer as well. The writers walk a fine line with Homer; make him too stupid and he just seems retarded, but by exploring Homer through Bart, we see him differently – we see he’s not perfect, but he’s trying, and that’s really the heart of the story. I also thought Hans Zimmer did a good job with the music. He captured the spirit of the show very well, something I thought only Danny Elfman could do.

My only real criticism is the length; 87 minutes is okay, but they cut out material with characters like Sideshow Bob which could have made it longer. Perhaps the scenes just didn’t work, we won’t know until the DVD’s out. Other than that I thought it was great fun, one of the few films this year which hasn’t disappointed. If there’s anyone else who hasn’t seen it yet, it’s definitely worth it. Just make sure you bring donuts. And yes, that’s a Simpsonized picture of me; click it if you want to do one of your own. 😉