Showing posts with label Feminist Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feminist Fantasy. Show all posts

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Queering Epic Fantasy - Anthony vs. Martin, Part 2

I didn't even get to the queer stuff yesterday, did I?  I probably won't get to it today either.

I'm going to talk about food.

I am also going to cheat on my five-chapter limit, but it's for good reason.

Here is Martin's description of a feast:

"The Great Hall of Winterfell was hazy with smoke and heavy with the smell of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread.  Its grey stone walls were draped with banners.  White, gold, crimson:  the direwolf of Stark, Baratheon's crowned stag, the lion of Lannister.  A singer was playing the high harp and reciting a ballad, but down at this end of the hall his voice could scarcely be heard above the roar of the fire, the clangor of pewter plates and cups, and the low mutter of a hundred drunken conversations."

Here is Anthony's description of a feast:


"The great hall of Calavere had been decorated to resemble a winter forest.  Boughs of evergreen and holly hung from soot-blackened beams high above, and more had been heaped along the base of the walls.  Their icy scent mingled with the smoke of torches.  Leafless saplings stood in the corners of the hall, to suggest the edges of a sylvan glade, and even the tapestries on the walls added to the illusion with their scenes of stag hunts and forest revels, woven in colors made dim and rich with time."

What I'm getting from this is:  If you are going to write epic fantasy, and you have to describe a feast, you must always start with "The great hall of X..."

But seriously.  Where would you rather be?  Winterfell or Calavere?  My take on Martin - and one of the reasons I don't like him - is that his fantasyland is very generic.  Who is the singer and how did he get there?  What is he singing about?  Who cares?  It's a medieval feast, and they have bards and shit there, don't they?

It looks like I am going to get to queer stuff today after all.

One of the reasons Anthony is much more detailed in his description of castle life is because he has quite a few female characters.  The king's ward practically runs the castle - including preparations for feasts.  Who put together the Winterfell feast?  The wife, whatsername, Catelyn?  She doesn't seem to have much imagination.  Or maybe it was planned out by a man.  That would explain a lot.

Martin's female characters are annoying me five chapters (and one episode of the show) in.  We have the supportive wife, the victimized child-bride, and the tomboy princess (though I have heard that the child-bride takes a level in badass later, so I promise I'll read a few more chapters after this rant).  So - we have one woman whose strength is being married to a strong man and making him stronger, we have one woman who is completely dominated by the heteropatriarchy, and we have one who takes on a male role in order to gain power.

Anthony's world is also quite male-dominated, but he uses the patriarchy to ask questions about power and gender relations.  He has not one but two queens, neither of which rule over a matriarchy.  He has no crossdressers.  And yes, the Witches are a big equalizing factor in his world, but it is not so much a matter of giving women power as giving women space.  Martin has yet to pass the Bechdel test.  Okay, so Anthony takes until chapter 9, and then it's a cryptic warning and not really a conversation, but once you get more than one female character, he really takes off.

So the reason I like Anthony and not Martin is that Anthony's writing is queer.  I'm not talking about his order of gay knights, or his gay protagonist, or his representation of every letter in the LGBTQetc. acronym.  Anthony is queer because he gives attention to issues of power and privilege, so that his almost stereotypical quest arc becomes fresh and exciting because it is seen through a different lens.

Now it's time for five more chapters of Martin.  Maybe I'll have another rant by then.

Monday, August 6, 2012

History Project - 1979: Tales of Neveryon

I need to come up for a more concise name for what I'm doing that "Queer Fantasy History Project."
"Tales of Neveryon" is a book by Samuel R. Delany that consists of five tales and an appendix (it's one of those books where the appendix is part of the story).  The tales all take place in the same fictional kingdom of Neveryon, a proto-civilization, pseudo-Mesopotamian sword-and-soceryland.  The tales share a few characters and in the last tale pulls all the plots together in complicated and interesting ways.

The story behind the story:  Neveryon was on my list for vintage queer fantasy I needed to read, and I finally tracked it down at a used bookstore.  On that same trip I bought "Nocturne," partly because I have been trying to finish the Indigo books, and partly because I did not want to buy only that book with that cover.

I.  The Tale of Gorgik

Gorgik is a slave, who finds favor with a noblewoman (yes, I do mean sex) and ends up not only freed but becomes very successful in the military.  Right away you can tell this is not your typical post-Tolkien sword-and-sorcery. There is a lot of class commentary and power relations.  Oh, and Delany is African-American.  Matters of race and slavery come up a lot in his books.  Just saying.

He's also gay, and I heard that there is quite a bit of queer content in the Neveryon books (which is why I tracked it down for the history project).  All that I could find from Gorgik was mention of male prostitutes in the scenery, implication that the eunuch servant has sex with men, and implication that Gorgik has sex with a guy, or at least that a guy approached him for sexual favors.

II.  The Tale of Old Venn

This is the tale which blew my mind a little.  I mean, to all appearances (namely, the scantily clad people on the cover) it's a tpyical 70's sword-and-sorcery book.  Then it starts to ask quesions about gender roles and the origin of prejudice and Freudian theory and the effect money has on society.  Somehow, it does not come off as didactic, even though the format is mostly an old woman giving lessons to a group of children.

This story is not queer in the sense of homosexuality, but Old Venn does have some stories of her time as a wife in a not-your-typical-polygamist-society.  Instead of the women being property of the men, the man is the property of the women; until that sociey was introduced to money, which skewed things into a patriarchy, by ways that really do make sense but are a bit complicated for a blog post.

III.  The Tale of Small Sarg

Now it gets gay.  Sarg is a barbarian prince, "which meant that his mother's brother wore women's jewelry and was consulted about animals and sickness."  Sarg himself also has the opportunity to assume such an office (the barbarians seem to be some sort of matriarchy), but prefers not to.

Then Sarg is captured and sold as a slave to Gorgik.  After the sale, Sarg says to his new master "You should have take [sic] the woman.  You get her work in the day, her body at night." To which Gorgik replies "You think I'll get any less from you?"

Yep.

Apparently the reason Gorgik bought a slave is because he physically cannot have sex unless one partner is wearing a slave collar.  This toes the line between implying that gay sex is really messed up, and bringing up issues of the psychology of power relations. 

That's all I have to say on that, except that people who claim that speculative fiction is more homophobic than other genres obviously are not reading the right books.  This was not a bromance, or homoerotic undertones.  There was very unambiguously sex.

IV.  The Tale of Dragons and Potters

I have to bring up an interesting coincidence on this for people who have read The Wheel of Time.  There is a character named Bayle who has "an inch of yellow beard, mostly beneath his chin - no real mustache."  Granted, he's eighteen.  No he does not have a funny accent.  Still.

There is also a character named Raven who is...you know your friend whose a rabid man-hating feminist?  That's her.  She's from an oppressive matriarchy, and at one point tells her people's creation story, which parallels Christianity in odd ways, except that Adam and Eve are both women, and Adam's punishment for original sin is to be turned into " 'man, which means broken woman." 

Interestingly, not only are the male characters uncomfortable with this story, but the female as well.  A sign of feminism gone too far?  Or internalized oppression?  Though this is the girl (now grown-up) who listened to Old Venn's stories.

This is also the story where it is revealed that there is no birth-control herb (Tamora Pierce won't be part of the scene for a while).

V.  The Tale of Dragons and Dreamers

Most of these issues are brought up in Sarg, but there's not too much to say about this one, so I'm going to talk about the dragons.  Dragons in Neveryon are vicious, impractical creatures, tamed only because some lord way back when decided they were pretty.  Their riders (yes, they have riders, this is post-McCaffery) are girls - young girls - because they are smaller and therefor lighter.  It is also a very high-risk and undesireable job, so the riders are also the delinquent "bad girls" who don't have a choice.

The last tale has Gorgik and Sarg on a violent campaign to end slavery.  There is an interesting debate between Sarg and a slave, who explains that their methods are actually counterproductive.  Sarg kills him.  The slave had a point.  But Sarg's rage, his desire to make a change now - that also is understandable.

Also, upon their meeting with Norema and Raven, Gorgik introduces himself and Sarg as lovers.  No one really bats an eye at the gender relations.

Appendix:  Some Informal Remarks Toward the Modular Calculus, Part Three

The title of this scared me too.  In fact, it details the discovery of an ancient text telling the oldest story known to mankind, and the difficulties in translating this.  I'm pretty sure it's all made up, but it's very plausible sounding.  But when you google "Culhar text," the only links that show up are related to Delany.

Essentially, the point of the appendix is that Delany took inspiration from this story for Neveryon.  Or that someone did; I think it might be a story-within-a-story, and that the appendix relates to one of his other books.  It's so brilliant, though, because some of the passages from the alleged text have translations that run thus:

Either

1) "the love of the small barbarian slave for the tall man from Culhare."

Or

2)  "the love of the tall slave from Culhare for the small barbarian."

Or even

3)  "the small love of the barbarian and the tall man for slavery."

Or...all three at once.

So by this point I am quite determined to become a Delany fangirl, because that man is brilliant.  He asks so many questions, and doesn't answer a single one, instead forcing you to think about it.  In a 1970's sword-and-sorcery novel.  This is pre-Brooks/Eddings fantasy at its finest, before the Star-Wars-with-dragons plot became standard and everyone had to invent their own world, and the world you invented explored possibilities and questions that could not be explored in our own world.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Feminist Fantasy: Alanna vs. Indigo

The other day I was in a used bookstore and I ran into Nocturne: Book Four of Indigo, by Louise Cooper (1990).  Now, I've been spending the past several years off and on perusing secondhand bookstores for the Indigo series - I've only been able to get book 3 at a library.  I picked the first one up on a whim at a used book store, and took about a year to get around to reading it.  It was kind of like what happened a couple weeks ago when I woke up in the middle of the night needing to read some trashy B-fantasy.  And I had Indigo on hand.  And about a chapter in, I realized my mistake.  This was not trashy at all.

The story starts with a princess who pulls a Pandora ("What's in this box that no one's ever, ever supposed to open?") and releases seven demons into the world, and condemns her boyfriend to eternal torment (or until the demons are destroyed) in the process.  She is given one chance to redeem herself - the goddess grants her immortality, so she has all the time in the world to destroy the demons. 

What I really love about the series is that it flips the traditional fairy-tale narrative on its head - the princess goes out and has adventures while the prince just sits in his tower.  It's one of the few books I know of that has a strong female protagonist who is not involved in a love triangle.  And the mutant wolf.  Gotta love the mutant wolf.

There is more than one kind of feminist literature, however.  When most people think of feminist fantasy, they think of Tamora Pierce (Actually, they probably think Katniss or Hermione, but for now we're going to pretend I'm right, 'kay?).  Pierce's characters are always defying the patriarchy and breaking gender roles and confusing misogynists and saving the world blah blah blah.

I was big into Tamora Pierce back in middle school/high school, having started with the Circle of Magic quartet in elementary school from the book orders, moving on to The Immortals because the first book had ponies on the cover (Yeah.  So?) and deciding to round out my repertoire with the author's first work, the Alanna books (Song of the Lioness, whatever).

Alanna is a princess (well, the daughter of a duke or a lord or something) who decides to switch places with her twin brother, disguising herself as a boy to go to knight school while he goes to magic school and becomes evil and gay. 

Contrasting approaches to feminism in the abovementioned works:

1.  The Strong Female Protagonist
Crossdressing.  Girl dressing as boy still gives power to masculinity.  Granted, she "comes out" as a woman in later books, and Pierce has a later series of an openly female knight, but crossdressing princesses still sends the message of "How does a woman get power in society?  Become a man!" 

Second point on the crossdressing note...it's just too damn convenient that she has a twin brother that she can switch places with.  Too-convenient things in novels just bug me.  And attributing it to divine intervention is cheating.

Indigo is a woman and it's not a big deal.  It's fantasy, after all, so the pseudo-medieval world does not have to be a rabid patriarchy if you don't want it to be.  Her gender is very rarely brought up.  She becomes a strong female character by being strong and female, rather than strong despite being female.  And yes, this route completely ignore relevant questions of gender roles, but it is still refreshing to have a woman character who is not defined by her woman-ness.

2.  Relationship with men
Tamora Pierce may have invented magical birth control.  The purpose of this was so that her characters could experience the sexual liberation that America was having by the 80's.  The books make a big fuss over Alanna's sex life and the double standard regarding women and sexuality.  And there's the love triangle with the prince and the rogue and blah blah blah.

Indigo has a boyfriend in hell. And she's a bit gloomy over missing him, and the fact that he's suffering - who wouldn't be? - but she spends remarkably little time brooding on it.  And she doesn't get tempted into a love triangle with another man (and the fact that she's immortal would make temptation awkward, I imagine).  There's a guy in book 3 who has a thing for her, but she's like "Uhh...no.  It's complicated."  Her love life is so much less important than slaying the demons.

3.  Relationship with gods.
Okay, done with the hard-core feministy stuff.  Moving on to the fantasy stuff. 

Pierce's pantheon are all just so meddlesome.  With Indigo, the god's function is to say "You fucked up.  Go be immortal and fix it."  And that's it.  She's done her part, and stays out of it.  With Alanna, the gods are constantly "Oh hey, go do this."  "Why?"  "I'm a god, don't argue.  Here's a thing to help you." "What's this do?"  "This gets you out of a situation later that the writer can't think of a proper resolution for."

4.  Animal companions
Alanna has a stupid cat that does what now?   It's basically just a mouthpiece for the gods; it's like that owl in the Legend of Zelda games, that shows up and tells you "Don't go to Kakariko village yet.  You have to go to the castle first," even if you know perfectly well you can't move on in the game until you go the castle and get the ocarina, but maybe you just feel like completing the cucco quest to get a bottle first and you don't need a stupid owl telling you not to.  Indigo has a freaking mutant telepathic wolf who has her own tragic backstory, and even though she falls a little flat as a character because she's just the supportive sidekick, she still has more motivation and personality than the stupid kitten who bullies the protagonist with plot advice.

So which do you prefer?  Female protagonists that actively subvert the patriarchy?  Or strong protagonists that just happen to be female?

I apologize if any of the information I gave on any of the books here is inaccurate.  I haven't read Alanna or the early Indigo books in a few years.

I will say I honestly like the later Pierce books a lot more than the early ones.  Maybe I'll do a post on that so you don't think I hate her.  I really don't.