The craft of the art
There might be one person on my flist that hasn’t heard anything about the Cultural Appropriation Discusion of doom, and also the current breakout of How-can-we-white-people-write-color-if-POC-are-so-mean-to-us (a favorite on lj) began with this post by Seeking Avalon; An Open Letter To Elizabeth Bear
and was nicely answered by E.Bear here; Real Magic can never be made by offering up someone else’s liver but, despite Bear’s excellent and comprehensive apology– which made it very clear that she understood exactly what Seeking Avalon was talking about– her friends jumped in to defend her.
There are lots and lotsandlots of links via the C.A.D.oD link above, some good stuff here and here and here
But I want to concentrate on one particular facet of the (as I see it) problem.
Emma Bull via her lj handle coffeeem says;
The underlying story of Blood and Iron, and all the Promethean Age books I’ve read so far, is the story of a potentially fatal, potentially tragic imbalance in two societies that mirror each other. It is, in fact, exactly the story that AW complains Bear is not telling.
In other words, the book AW read is the one he/she was afraid he/she was going to see. But it wasn’t Blood and Iron.
I can’t give a lot of weight toa critique of a book and its author that’s based on a shallow reading of the book, that doesn’t take into account all the text, but substitutes the reader’s own expected subtext for what’s actually there. I’m pretty sure AW has plenty of cause to be angry. But I have to say that I do think AW objects to this book based on a fundamental, factual misreading. I believe AW’s analysis is objectively wrong, in the same way I would say that someone who declares that Lolita is a glorification and justification of pedophilia is wrong.
In other words, I think Bear is a better writer than AW is a reader. That does happen all the time in the world of literature. It has nothing to do with class, race, gender, or sexual preference. But I don’t want to go as far as to say that an opinion based on a shallow reading and a reaction to cultural injustice is as insightful as an opinion based on careful consideration of the text.
(link here)Oh, no she didn’t!
Oh, fuck, she did.
Fuck. That… yeah, that hurts. I admire this woman, yanno, I just met her, and shared a pizza with her. I can’t believe she would say something so fucking elitist! absolutely beside the point (sentence has been edited since last night).
Listen up, people.
We are talking about fiction– novels. Novels are not read critically, in the main. We don’t have the luxury of limiting our readership to academics, not if we want sales. And therefore the burden of intent falls on the writer, who ought to know her work will be read by people who critique emotionally, who are looking for entertainment, and who will not ever feel responsible to the writer.
There are elements that go into storytelling, and many of those elements are what we might call performance skills. As a fiction writer, I want to keep my readers reading. I need to give them clues that their expectations will be met, in whatever ways that entails; that the protagonist will prevail, that the orgasms will be screamers, that my unreliable witness is unreliable. Especially the last, in the context of this most recent flap. I need to let my readers know that I do not agree with the values I am portraying.
This is part of the craft of fiction writing.
The. Craft.
Craft;
- Skill in doing or making something, as in the arts; proficiency.
- Skill in evasion or deception; guile.
- An occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or skilled artistry.
Making a book is a craft, as is making a clock; it takes more than wit to become an author. — Jean de La Bruyere (1645-1696).
It’s the part of your labor that supports your art. Without the craft, your message goes. No. Where.
Really. Fiction writing is a social endeavor. It’s a performing art, and ought to be taught as one. In this instance we see why.
I cannot coerce one single reader into my world, they have no responsibility to me, and I have no right to demand a sympathetic reading. I cannot demand an assumption of goodwill from people who don’t know me. I cannot demand that they keep reading after they’ve lost their trust in me as an author.
I really cannot demand that they divorce my words from my person, no matter how reasonable that seems to me, because– the readership has no writ of promise with me, the writer. If my writing makes my readers think that bigotry is okay in the fictional world I have created– If my writing triggers a sense of injustice, or personal loss, or fury borne of real-world experience– and If I don’t give any clues that I, the story-teller share that sense, then my readers have every right in the world to wonder if I am the bigot my writing insinuates.
Bear herself understands this;
I’m also notorious for not using broad enough hints for anyone about anything, so that’s not a new criticism. And it’s also something I’m working on. (Blood and Iron is generally considered my most difficult book, and it is an older book–my fourth published, and one of the first ones I wrote. I’ve revisited similar arguments since, and I think I’ve done a better job with them.)…
… Part of that means helping create an environment in which characters of color and queer characters are an unremarkable part of narrative, in which they are the norm. Another part of it is talking about oppression, by demonstrating it and discussing its consequences.
But another part is not contributing to the problem. You know, the thing I said about not betrayingthe 12-year-old kid who’s seeing herself in print for the first time? For you, as a reader, I failed in that task. I betrayed your trust. That’s what I’m apologizing for. (link here)
Here is one last quote from vassilissa , just to remind myself of my own promises;
…not to divorce themselves from their privilege by denying it, but to try to make things suck less for POCs, particularly by dismantling insitutional privilege where they can, and supporting POC’s efforts to do so. (link here);
Thank you–yes, very much to the point! And beautifully put.
I am meditating a post on reader response which I hope will complement this piece beautifully.
For now, goes to link!
Hmmm.
I have a kind of visceral objection to definitions of the craft that presume we MUST fulfill a reader’s expectations. (But as a rule, I don’t like being told what to do.) I want to give pleasure, but that doesn’t always lie along the path of fulfilled expectation. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t expect Frodo to declare himself the Lord of the Rings, at the end; I didn’t expect Gollum to be the savior of the world.
I also wish we could detach the idea of careful reading from the idea of elitism. A craft-oriented reading, an apprentice-type reading where we try to figure out what the dude is doing, as a writer: that’s careful work, not remotely elitist.
The problem of cultural appropriation is just starting to surface for me as I am truckin’ with all kinds of made-up, future-time Native American societies and governments and fiefdoms. One of my chief supporting characters is a made-up Indian, an Olema from the Point Reyes area. My plan, when I get my courage up, is to take this guy, Manny Eckbo, and some of his dealings along to some friends of mine, and ask them for the favor of reading, and then listen to what they say. What happens after that, unknown.
Hum. I’m not talking about surprise endings though. My expectation was that the world didn’t end; although the cahracter’s roles got mixed up there for a moment, my expectations were fulfilled. My belief was that Tolkien wanted to save Middle earth from the evils of Industrialism/Mordor, and Tolkien kept his promise.
I hope you understand the context of my post; my fault for not making it clearer, of course, late at night and effing tired. But the links, baby, the links!
The days I get a careful reading out of my smut are red-letter days, for sure. I do try to offer subcontext; but I cannot expect all of my readers to get it, or even more than a very few. “I wish” in this context is easter-bunny time… I do not write for academics, and neither does E.Bear. Emma’s comment was unconscionable– and for that matter, she does not write for academics either.
Thank you–yes, very much to the point! And beautifully put.
I am meditating a post on reader response which I hope will complement this piece beautifully.
For now, goes to link!
Thank you–yes, very much to the point! And beautifully put.
I am meditating a post on reader response which I hope will complement this piece beautifully.
For now, goes to link!
Hmmm.
I have a kind of visceral objection to definitions of the craft that presume we MUST fulfill a reader’s expectations. (But as a rule, I don’t like being told what to do.) I want to give pleasure, but that doesn’t always lie along the path of fulfilled expectation. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t expect Frodo to declare himself the Lord of the Rings, at the end; I didn’t expect Gollum to be the savior of the world.
I also wish we could detach the idea of careful reading from the idea of elitism. A craft-oriented reading, an apprentice-type reading where we try to figure out what the dude is doing, as a writer: that’s careful work, not remotely elitist.
The problem of cultural appropriation is just starting to surface for me as I am truckin’ with all kinds of made-up, future-time Native American societies and governments and fiefdoms. One of my chief supporting characters is a made-up Indian, an Olema from the Point Reyes area. My plan, when I get my courage up, is to take this guy, Manny Eckbo, and some of his dealings along to some friends of mine, and ask them for the favor of reading, and then listen to what they say. What happens after that, unknown.
Hum. I’m not talking about surprise endings though. My expectation was that the world didn’t end; although the cahracter’s roles got mixed up there for a moment, my expectations were fulfilled. My belief was that Tolkien wanted to save Middle earth from the evils of Industrialism/Mordor, and Tolkien kept his promise.
I hope you understand the context of my post; my fault for not making it clearer, of course, late at night and effing tired. But the links, baby, the links!
The days I get a careful reading out of my smut are red-letter days, for sure. I do try to offer subcontext; but I cannot expect all of my readers to get it, or even more than a very few. “I wish” in this context is easter-bunny time… I do not write for academics, and neither does E.Bear. Emma’s comment was unconscionable– and for that matter, she does not write for academics either.
Hmmm.
I have a kind of visceral objection to definitions of the craft that presume we MUST fulfill a reader’s expectations. (But as a rule, I don’t like being told what to do.) I want to give pleasure, but that doesn’t always lie along the path of fulfilled expectation. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t expect Frodo to declare himself the Lord of the Rings, at the end; I didn’t expect Gollum to be the savior of the world.
I also wish we could detach the idea of careful reading from the idea of elitism. A craft-oriented reading, an apprentice-type reading where we try to figure out what the dude is doing, as a writer: that’s careful work, not remotely elitist.
The problem of cultural appropriation is just starting to surface for me as I am truckin’ with all kinds of made-up, future-time Native American societies and governments and fiefdoms. One of my chief supporting characters is a made-up Indian, an Olema from the Point Reyes area. My plan, when I get my courage up, is to take this guy, Manny Eckbo, and some of his dealings along to some friends of mine, and ask them for the favor of reading, and then listen to what they say. What happens after that, unknown.
Hum. I’m not talking about surprise endings though. My expectation was that the world didn’t end; although the cahracter’s roles got mixed up there for a moment, my expectations were fulfilled. My belief was that Tolkien wanted to save Middle earth from the evils of Industrialism/Mordor, and Tolkien kept his promise.
I hope you understand the context of my post; my fault for not making it clearer, of course, late at night and effing tired. But the links, baby, the links!
The days I get a careful reading out of my smut are red-letter days, for sure. I do try to offer subcontext; but I cannot expect all of my readers to get it, or even more than a very few. “I wish” in this context is easter-bunny time… I do not write for academics, and neither does E.Bear. Emma’s comment was unconscionable– and for that matter, she does not write for academics either.
Blaming the reader for not ‘reading clearly’ enough is a cop-out. If I write something and it offends a reader, it doesn’t really matter if it was intentional or not because the end result is the same: the reader is offended by something I wrote. The best I can do is apologize, consider the criticism and try to do better in the future.
Every time I see someone online reply to someone telling them that somethng they’ve posted is offensive with “That’s not what I meant!” I want to ask them “Then why did you write it that way?” Writing isn’t speech, you have time to consider what you’re saying so that you put forth what you actually do mean, rather than just blurting out whatever comes out of your mouth. And if you don’t take that time, and you offend somebody in the process the fault still largely lies with you, the writer, for not being clear in the first place.
Blaming the reader for not ‘reading clearly’ enough is a cop-out. If I write something and it offends a reader, it doesn’t really matter if it was intentional or not because the end result is the same: the reader is offended by something I wrote. The best I can do is apologize, consider the criticism and try to do better in the future.
Every time I see someone online reply to someone telling them that somethng they’ve posted is offensive with “That’s not what I meant!” I want to ask them “Then why did you write it that way?” Writing isn’t speech, you have time to consider what you’re saying so that you put forth what you actually do mean, rather than just blurting out whatever comes out of your mouth. And if you don’t take that time, and you offend somebody in the process the fault still largely lies with you, the writer, for not being clear in the first place.
Blaming the reader for not ‘reading clearly’ enough is a cop-out. If I write something and it offends a reader, it doesn’t really matter if it was intentional or not because the end result is the same: the reader is offended by something I wrote. The best I can do is apologize, consider the criticism and try to do better in the future.
Every time I see someone online reply to someone telling them that somethng they’ve posted is offensive with “That’s not what I meant!” I want to ask them “Then why did you write it that way?” Writing isn’t speech, you have time to consider what you’re saying so that you put forth what you actually do mean, rather than just blurting out whatever comes out of your mouth. And if you don’t take that time, and you offend somebody in the process the fault still largely lies with you, the writer, for not being clear in the first place.