You are here: Kaedrin > Weblog
Sunday, April 17, 2016
In the wake of the disastrous Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice*, I thought it was time to take a look back at Batman, so I went out and read a bunch of the more famous and lauded comics as well as a few peripheral bits of media. My experience with comic books and graphic novels is limited, to be sure, but I did briefly go through a phase in the early 1990s where I read a bunch of stuff, including some Batman and Superman. These weren't particularly memorable, though there was that whole Death of Superman thing (and the subsequent return) that was pretty hard to miss. I also read a bunch of them newfangled Image comics, but believe it or not, my focus at the time was more on licensed properties like The Terminator, Aliens, and Predator (and come to think of it, Batman versus Predator was nestled in there somewhere). More recently, friends turned me on to the likes of Locke & Key and Morning Glories, but not so much superhero comics. All of which is to say that you should probably take what follows with the appropriate boulder of salt.
* This is the actual title of the movie. Someone actually thought that up, and then more people actually approved it and put hundreds of millions dollars behind it.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Time is short, so we shall venture into yonder internets in search of interesting linkys for you to follow:
Sunday, April 03, 2016
SF Book Review, Part 22: Ye Olde School SF
One of the things that participating in the Hugo Awards process has evoked in me is a strong desire to read older SF. This often lends a sense of deja vu, as older works are foundational and thus many things you're used to think of as modern are actually quite old hat in the SF world. Sometimes this is a conscious homage, others are more inadvertent (or, at least, unclear). Anywho, I'm once again quite behind in reviewing these books, so here goes nothing:
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Hugo Award Nominations
As the nomination period for this year's Hugo Awards draws to a close, I figure I should cobble my shortlists together. I have not made a ton of progress since last time, but there's a few new things on the list and some other categories that I neglected. The Sad Puppies released their list recently, and it appears to be less of a clusterfuck, though everyone still has their undergarments in a bunch about the puppies, which I just don't get. The brand is pretty muddled at this point, and the lists include a lot of works by authors that typical puppy voters ostensibly hate (i.e. Ann Leckie? John Scalzi? Nnedi Okorafor? Cat Valente?), though there are a few stereotypical Puppy authors. My guess? John Wright's novel will make it (ugh) and possibly Jim Butcher's book, in addition to the mainstream nominees that I think almost everyone is voting for (like, uh, my list below). I'm hoping this will be less controversial, as I hate all the requisite whining that everyone has to wade through once the finalists are announced. For next year's Sad Puppies, what they should do is allow each participant to rank 5 works in each category, and then use Australian rules voting to determine a winner in each categor... wait a second, this sounds familiar. Anywho, I'll just leave it at that and throw up my nominations (additions from last time are marked with an asterisk):
Best Novel: Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen, but it seems like a poor point to enter the series and I hate it when someone nominates a book and, like, you have to read 10 other books in order to understand what's going on (also not sure it's even eligible for this year). I'm currently in the midst of James Cambias' Corsair, which is still a possibility, but so far it's not really at the level of my current nominees so I'm guessing I'll leave it off the final list.
Best Short Story:
Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form:
Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form:
And I think that just about covers what I'll be nominating. There's an off chance I'll get to some other stuff during this week, but for now, this is what I've got. Curious to see how the finalists turn out, but not particularly anxious for more controversy and hand wringing. Still undecided as to whether I'll be voting this year...
Sunday, March 13, 2016
In popular culture, the witch hunt is a popular trope. Rooted in actual witch hunts in early modern Europe and colonial North America (15th through 18th centuries), it's a seemingly generic feature of human behavior easily extrapolated into nearly any moral threat. The U.S. roots in Salem were renewed in the 1950s Red Scare, and so on. We've all seen such stories in movies and television, but writer/director Robert Eggers' The Witch is a fascinating take on the matter. Spoilers aho, fun ahoy.
Set in early 17th century New England, it tells the story of a puritan family struggling to survive on their own. Towards the beginning of the film, the youngest member of the family (an infant) is abducted and the family begins to suspect evil forces from the woods next to their farm as the explanation for their woes. It isn't wrong before members of the family start casting suspicion upon one another. A witch walks among us.
Eggers took care with the historical realities, and his background doing the grunt work of production design, set carpenter, etc... served him well. He apparently spent five years researching the colonial setting, consulting primary source documents on everything from architecture to period language. Indeed, most of the dialog is directly culled from Puritan prayer manuals and period diaries, making the speech a little difficult to follow at first, but the mood of which suits the film perfectly. All of this lends a sense of verisimilitude, except for one key detail: the witches themselves!
It's clear, even early on in the film, that the witches are real. These days, most witch hunt stories are completely one sided. For instance, I recently watched a Star Trek: The Next Generation episode called The Drumhead, in which a retired admiral investigates and explosion aboard the enterprise, quickly jumping to accusations of conspiracy and treason. It's a good episode, but it's one in which there's never any real doubt as to the outcome. Most examples of a witch hunt in pop culture focus on completely unfounded accusations, but in The Witch, such accusations actually are founded. There really are witches in the woods tormenting the family. One of the insidious things about witches is that they lurk among us, waiting for opportune times to do us harm and often throw suspicion on others. Because of their nature, we tend to abandon our principles and our morals in our desperate attempt to find our foe. The Witch understands this, and because of its staggering period authenticity, we must acknowledge the supernatural's existence, even as our protagonists have no way of rooting them out and end up turning on one another. This sets the movie apart from the typical witch hunt tale, while not excusing the resultant behavior. Despite the setting of the film, it's clearly aiming at more contemporary witch hunts than actual historical accounts.
If someone were to make a movie about, say, Joseph McCarthy, much would be made of the near total lack of concrete evidence for his anti-Communist crusade. As it should! But little would be made of the fact that, despite his deplorable methods of intimidation, his rants about "Communists in the State Department" were basically true. Of course, most of the people and organizations that McCarthy accused were unsupported by evidence, making the topic decidedly muddled. Again, a movie attempting to tell this story would probably bypass this complexity to focus more on the lack of evidence and the persecution than the actual communists that were deploying their Gramscian weapons on an unsuspecting public.
Even today, the concept applies to our national obsession with terrorists. At its core, fighting terrorism is a witch hunt. But since we know that terrorists actually exist, it's not your typical witch hunt narrative. Sonny Bunch sees The Witch as a radicalization narrative:
...I think The Witch has done something far more interesting. Or, at least, more unique. It's not peddling a traditional witch hunt narrative. It's offering a radicalization narrative. Thomasin's tale is the story of how a young person, marginalized by society and her family, comes to join a radical group. It's a story you see in the news today relatively regularly, one that usually focuses on disaffected young Muslims who, alienated by their perceived mistreatment at the hands of Westerners and languishing in poverty, leave their homes to join ISIS and other terrorist groups. They seek belonging and fellowship. And if they happen to find it amongst killers and psychopaths, well, so be it.The Witch is a horror film. One in which the witches actually exist, even. But the horror in the film is not derived from cheap jump scares. The environment is creepy on its own and the film does an admirable job of slowly building tension through visual techniques, but the real horror is not that the witches exist. Rather, it's that we have no way to fight them and that traditionally, we've resorted to morally compromised methods that easily lead to our downfall (and potentially strengthening our enemy in the process). I'll leave the application of this to current events as an exercise for the reader.
The film is deliberately paced and the dialog takes some getting used to, but it never descends into a slog, and once you start thinking through its implications, it becomes more chilling and fascinating. It's beautiful, well composed, well acted, and more relevant than I ever expected. It's not an easy sit, but it's a worthwhile one that has only grown in my estimation as it continues to occupy my thoughts.
Wednesday, March 09, 2016
Comments Are Working Now!
At least, I think they are, hence this test post which you can safely ignore.
Sunday, March 06, 2016
Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen
One of the great things about Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan novels is the sheer variety of genres and stories that she manages to wring out of her universe. It speaks to how well the worldbuilding in the series works, but also to her breadth as a writer. I'm sure you could generally categorize the series as action/adventure in the mold of Horatio Hornblower, but when you start to narrow it down, you find a wide array of sub-genres: military SF, spy thriller, drawing room intrigue, political conspiracy, mystery (of many kinds), legal drama, and even straight up romance. As the series has progressed, she has trended away from the more action oriented aspects and more towards interpersonal dramas and romance. Most of the series is told through the eyes of the pint-sized force-of-nature that is Miles Vorkosigan, though the series (chronologically) began with his mother Cordelia Naismith and father Aral Vorkosigan. It's been 25 years since Cordelia headlined a novel, but she has returned in Bujold's latest novel, Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen. Spoilers, I guess, more from the series rather than just this book, though I guess some of that might pop up too.
Three years after her husband's untimely death, Cordelia Vorkosigan thinks it's time to resign her post as Vicereine of Sergyar and move her life in another direction altogether. Along the way, she ensnares the unsuspecting Admiral Oliver Jole in her schemes, and he suddenly finds himself contemplating possibilities he would never have dreampt up on his own.
This may not sound like much of a plot, and truth be told, there really isn't one. There's no grand political conspiracy driving the events, no dead bodies, no explosions, no Cetagandan invasion fleets, just a rather well executed character piece. This usually isn't my sort of thing, so I think it speaks volumes about Bujold's worldbuilding and capability of producing lovable characters that I really enjoyed the novel. Part of this is certainly that this is something almost completely new to the series. The books it most resembles would be A Civil Campaign and indeed, there are some light parallels between the stories (I'm thinking primarily of an unexpected family visit). But even A Civil Campaign had the structure of an adventure, even if it wasn't strictly so. The centerpiece of that novel was a dinner party for crying out loud. And what's more, it was fantastically exciting. No such disasters here.
There are subtleties here that Bujold has yet to explore in the series. Since most of the series was seen through the eyes of the young, we don't get a lot of insight into what was actually going on with the parent's generation. It turns out there were some, er, interesting relationships being built. This novel reveals many of these things, and concerns itself with the concept of dealing with the grief of losing a loved one. Aral's loss is keenly felt by most of the main players, and Cordelia's plan to course correct her life is her way of acknowledging that she must move on.
For reasons I'll leave unclear, Admiral Jole felt the loss of Aral nearly as much as Cordelia, and her plans have suddenly given his late-life a hope that he never really considered. Jole is not strictly a new character, having been briefly mentioned in several previous novels, but his part was always as a handsome, competent aid to Aral Vorkosigan. As usual, I'm left wondering if Bujold always had this story in mind and was peppering hints to this obscure side character in order to lay groundwork for this story, but this generally speaks to her ability to craft lovable characters.
The pairing is a good one, and it deals with late-life issues in a way that most stories never dare. This being a science fiction universe, a 76 year old woman deciding to change careers and have more kids does not seem so far fetched since she can expect to live to 120 years old. Similarly, a career military man can find other uses for his keen observational skills, and maybe have some kids of his own. Interestingly enough, Bujold is still wringing new and intriguing implications out her concept of a Uterine Replicator, even now, thirty years after she began writing these stories.
The usual coterie of side characters pepper the story, both new and old, and as per usual, they are all delightful. Despite a wide cast of characters, it never falls into an unfocused, episodic trap, and generally remains deceptively compelling.
It's a fascinating book primarily for what it doesn't do. One of the things I cherish about this series of books is how frequently Bujold manages to subvert expectations. I often find myself thinking This can't be right!? Is she really doing this? and then being utterly enthralled as Bujold sooths whatever stupid reservations I may have. I have learned that you must simply go with the flow and trust in Bujuold. In this case, I suspected that we might see some political intrigue or inciting incidents, but as the novel progressed and the story stubbornly refused to indulge my predictions, I started to get a feel for something different and interesting. Like Cordelia and Oliver, you have to be willing to let the story go its own way.
In a recent interview, Bujold noted that sort of difficulty in certain audiences:
Bujold, 66, remarks she was once part of a book club discussion of her fantasy novel, The Curse Of Chalion, with a group of junior high students, "where it gradually became apparent that the hero was far more alien to them by being an old man of 35 - practically like their parents! - than by being a demon-ridden medieval fantasy nobleman."I suspect Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen would garner a similar reaction, though I think ones experience in SF/Fantasy greatly reduces any complaints you might have about the exploration of late-life challenges this novel confronts. After all, if you're willing to consider the implications of a "demon-ridden medieval fantasy nobleman", why not a 76 year old widowed Vicereine and her desire to raise a new family? Or maybe I'm just getting older and wiser...
Sunday, February 28, 2016
The Academy Awards are strange in that it's extremely popular to whine about them and how they're so irrelevant, and yet, we all spend time and effort whining about them. I'm including myself. Take my intro to last year's Oscars post:
The funny thing about the Academy Awards is that your opinion about them is pretty boring. You think the Oscars are just a cynical circle jerk of self-satisfied Hollywood elites? Boring! You're outraged at [insert snub here]? Super fucking boring! You're genuinely excited about seeing films receive the recognition they deserve? You are both naive and boring! But the one thing that unites us all is the abject hatred of the short films categories. I think we can all agree on that.Culture warriors have done their best to liven things up with the whole #OscarsSoWhite thing, and you have to be at least a little interested to see what Chris Rock is going to do as the host this year, but it's still pretty boring.
Personally, I have a decent enough time because I think it's fun to mock celebrities and drink alcohol. I also like parsing the weird politics of Hollywood to make pointless predictions (usually scoring in the 80% range). Back in the before time, the long long ago, I used to do this thing called "liveblogging". For you youngsters out there, back in the dark days before Facebook and Twitter, people would just update their blog every 2 minutes during an event like the Oscars and we'd just sit there hitting F5 to see what people were saying. A few years ago, I finally got with the times and took it all to Twitter. And to be honest, I'm not that funny, so I usually end up just retweeting a bunch of people who are funnier and more incisive than I am. But hey, if you want to chat, I'll be on Twitter @mciocco saying dumb things. If, for some ungodly reason, you want to see a decade's worth of previous predictions and commentary on the Oscars, check them out here: [2015 | 2014 | 2013 |2012 | 2011 | 2010 | 2009 | 2008 | 2007 | 2006 | 2005 | 2004]
Thoughts and ramblings on culture, movies, technology and more; updated every Sunday and Wednesday.
Kaedrin Beer Blog
And Now the Screaming Starts
Back of the Cereal Box
Movable Type 6.1
Copyright © 1999 - 2012 by Mark Ciocco.