Ah, the great question. When I was in school, teachers would always tell off anyone who brought comics or graphic novels to silent reading time. "They're not books!" they would exclaim.
Aren't they?
They have words. They have a story, characters, conflict. They inflict a painful amount of feels at times. They discuss issues.
Is it that they have pictures that makes them not worthy of being called books?
To me, it seems snobby to claim that graphic novels don't count in literature.
Becky Cloonan has written a trilogy of sorts, The Ink and Thunder series, and each issue is a one-shot. They're carefully crafted, written, illustrated and inked by Becky herself. And I would call them literary-fantasy crossovers. There's a lot of hidden things in her work, imagery, symbolism, everything you'd find in a regular book.
I dare you to check them out. Each issue is only 99 cents on comixology.
So, what do you think about comics as books? Goodreads thankfully counts comics as books towards my yearly reading goal, since I've slowly started reading more comics than books lately.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Wednesday, 11 December 2013
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
A quick post to let you know that I'm not dead, and what I've been obsessing with lately
Apologies for not posting in several months. Especially after that last post wherein I talked in verbatim about my depression. I hope no one thought I'd pulled an Allie Brosh (her several months-long hiatus on Hyperbole and a Half, with no warning, after her own post on depression was an extremely worrying time for me.)
But I've been getting better. I think. My feelings have been going up and down, as to be expected with mental illnesses. But I've been dealing with it. I've made a new friend in my course, who quickly turned into my best friend. And this best friend introduced me to superheroes.
Now, I've read some comics before. I'd read the first 100-something issues of Fables, before getting sick of the convoluted, meandering plot. Ditto with The Walking Dead. But I'd found it difficult to get into superhero comics, mainly because, well, I found the Batman universe uninteresting and too male-angsty for me (Oh, Chris Nolan, please tone down the angst), just to name one example, and the comic community is severely anti-woman, as I've encountered.
But after reading some comics that he forced onto me (I completely recommend Loeb's Hush, Tomasi's Batman and Robin run (up until Damian dies), Simone's Brids of Prey run, and Dini's Gotham City Sirens run), I've become so in love with the feels that the superheroes give me.
So, I've decided, since I can't think about anything else, that I'll post a few things on various topics regarding comics.
Next post, which should be up within a few days, will be all about the disdain some people have for comics, and how they sometimes don't see comics and graphic novels as real literature, and how they're not real books.
I'll also be discussing feminism in comics (with a lot of vitriol at the New 52 Wonder Woman, and just Wonder Woman's current situation).
After that, I'll talk about writing in comics, which, as a novelist, I've discovered is incredibly ruthlessly difficult to grasp, but super incredibly fun.
I hope that this will help me keep consistent in posting often, and that I can rant happily about my new passions, and maybe even educate people.
But I've been getting better. I think. My feelings have been going up and down, as to be expected with mental illnesses. But I've been dealing with it. I've made a new friend in my course, who quickly turned into my best friend. And this best friend introduced me to superheroes.
Now, I've read some comics before. I'd read the first 100-something issues of Fables, before getting sick of the convoluted, meandering plot. Ditto with The Walking Dead. But I'd found it difficult to get into superhero comics, mainly because, well, I found the Batman universe uninteresting and too male-angsty for me (Oh, Chris Nolan, please tone down the angst), just to name one example, and the comic community is severely anti-woman, as I've encountered.
But after reading some comics that he forced onto me (I completely recommend Loeb's Hush, Tomasi's Batman and Robin run (up until Damian dies), Simone's Brids of Prey run, and Dini's Gotham City Sirens run), I've become so in love with the feels that the superheroes give me.
So, I've decided, since I can't think about anything else, that I'll post a few things on various topics regarding comics.
Next post, which should be up within a few days, will be all about the disdain some people have for comics, and how they sometimes don't see comics and graphic novels as real literature, and how they're not real books.
I'll also be discussing feminism in comics (with a lot of vitriol at the New 52 Wonder Woman, and just Wonder Woman's current situation).
After that, I'll talk about writing in comics, which, as a novelist, I've discovered is incredibly ruthlessly difficult to grasp, but super incredibly fun.
I hope that this will help me keep consistent in posting often, and that I can rant happily about my new passions, and maybe even educate people.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Can Adults Read Young Adult?
I was in the library today with my mother. We had an hour to kill before an appointment, so we were sitting in the Young Adult section: I was reading Adorkable, and my mum was flicking through some magazines. Then, a middle-aged woman, around my mother's age, walked into the section, and began browsing through the books.
As soon as the woman left, with a stack of YA books in tow, my mother started her rant:
"What is a woman her age doing reading books for teenagers? Has she no shame? Is she so dumb that she needs to read children's books?"
etc. etc. etc.
There's always a stigma towards books that aren't classics and/or literary. Genre books always get a lot of flack. But Young Adult seems to be getting the worst of it. People seem to think that because YA is aimed mainly at teens, that only teens should be able to read it. And, sometimes they go a step further, assuming that because it's aimed towards teens, it's somehow not as intellectual or as deep as adult novels. Basically, there's a lot of ageism going on.
It makes me wonder how people view me. I'm twenty years old. I haven't been in high school for three years. I'm definitely not a teen anymore, and I'm slowly ceasing to become a young adult. And, most importantly, I read practically nothing but young adult. I write only young adult.
Sure, there may be lots of YA books that are vapid and shallow, that are pale imitations of Twilight. But isn't that the same for books for adults? I don't mean to sound like a genre snob here, but a lot of smutty erotica novels are hardly deep (hurr hurr....). I've read a few books that are classed as literary (what is literature, anyway? But that's fodder for another post), that feel shallow, with stupid characters that are nothing more than Edward and Bella as adults.
But on the other hand, I've read some really deep YA, such as The Book Thief, Twenty Boy Summer, or Looking for Alaska, and they all deal with important topics. They are hardly vapid, and there's potential to teach a lot of people. Ditto with adult novels, whether they be literary or genre fiction.
I appologise for this ranty post. I realise it's not really going anywhere. I'm just trying to sort my thoughts into some semblance of sense, and I know it's not really working. Regardless of how much I'm failing at understanding this phenomena, I'd like to know what you guys think. Do you think that adults should be able to read books for teens, and vice versa? Is there something dumb about an adult reading below their age level? Why do you think this is?
As soon as the woman left, with a stack of YA books in tow, my mother started her rant:
"What is a woman her age doing reading books for teenagers? Has she no shame? Is she so dumb that she needs to read children's books?"
etc. etc. etc.
There's always a stigma towards books that aren't classics and/or literary. Genre books always get a lot of flack. But Young Adult seems to be getting the worst of it. People seem to think that because YA is aimed mainly at teens, that only teens should be able to read it. And, sometimes they go a step further, assuming that because it's aimed towards teens, it's somehow not as intellectual or as deep as adult novels. Basically, there's a lot of ageism going on.
It makes me wonder how people view me. I'm twenty years old. I haven't been in high school for three years. I'm definitely not a teen anymore, and I'm slowly ceasing to become a young adult. And, most importantly, I read practically nothing but young adult. I write only young adult.
Sure, there may be lots of YA books that are vapid and shallow, that are pale imitations of Twilight. But isn't that the same for books for adults? I don't mean to sound like a genre snob here, but a lot of smutty erotica novels are hardly deep (hurr hurr....). I've read a few books that are classed as literary (what is literature, anyway? But that's fodder for another post), that feel shallow, with stupid characters that are nothing more than Edward and Bella as adults.
But on the other hand, I've read some really deep YA, such as The Book Thief, Twenty Boy Summer, or Looking for Alaska, and they all deal with important topics. They are hardly vapid, and there's potential to teach a lot of people. Ditto with adult novels, whether they be literary or genre fiction.
I appologise for this ranty post. I realise it's not really going anywhere. I'm just trying to sort my thoughts into some semblance of sense, and I know it's not really working. Regardless of how much I'm failing at understanding this phenomena, I'd like to know what you guys think. Do you think that adults should be able to read books for teens, and vice versa? Is there something dumb about an adult reading below their age level? Why do you think this is?
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Fifty Shades of Feminism
As a feminist and a book-lover, it should come as no surprise that I read this book. Fifty Shades of Grey, the erotic bestselling novel that started life out on fanfiction.net, is one of those books that starts trends. Just like Harry Potter, Twilight and The Hunger Games. But what makes it so popular? After all, there are thousands of books that are written far better, have more enticing sex scenes, and have believable characters. Honestly, this whole craze is a conundrum.
This isn’t a review, so much as a commentary on the popularity of 50 Shades, and how it appropriates misogyny, abusive relationships, and rape. Basically, a feminist rant about all the bad things about the book. You have been warned.
So, I guess I’ll just jump right into it:
Christian Grey is an abusive, manipulating rapist.
There is no way around it. That’s what it is.
Anastasia Steel is a twenty-year-old woman, about to graduate from college, when she meets the apparently sexy Christian Grey. She does the typical high-school do-I-like-him? Does-he-like-me? spiel, and they end up together. Whatever.
Let’s talk about how this oh-so romantic relationship is abusive, shall we?
Right from the get-go, Christian is controlling of Ana, from what she wears, what she eats, to whether she shaves or waxes any part of her body. When they go out to a restaurant, this is what happens:
Okay, so he doesn't let her choose her own drink, and completely dismisses her when she speaks up. There are many other instances of him having total control of her actions. She is never her own person, and she proves that she's very vulnerable to being manipulated, as we see from the very first page, when her best friend makes her interview Mr Grey, even though Ana doesn't want to.
When Christian finds out that she wants to go to Georgia to visit her mother, he even tries to guilt trip her into not going. She wants to see her own mother! Seriously.
Christian knows that Ana is insecure, and he uses that insecurity to his advantage, much in the way most abusers do. He manipulates Ana into doing what she wants by withholding emotional affection from her, which he knows is what she really wants. It is in this way that he gets her to agree to sign the contract, and to try out the kinky stuff that she's expressed multiple times that she's not comfortable with.
The amount of times that Ana has begged Christian not to be angry with her is appalling, over the tiniest things, from having a male friend, driving her car, and wanting to see her own mother. She is often terrified of him leaving her because of something she's done--usually something insignificant like one of the things I've listed.
On page 476, she tells the reader:
How is that okay? How is that attractive? This level of jealousy and control is dangerous. Women have ended up beaten unconscious, or worse, dead, because of this kind of manipulation. He even becomes frighteningly jealous of all the males that Ana interacts with, even going so far as to blaming her and making her feel guilty if they call her."Two glasses of the Pinot Grigio," Christian says with a voice of authority. I purse my lips, exasperated.
"What?" he snaps.
"I wanted a Diet Coke," I whisper.
His gray eyes narrow and he shakes his head. "The Pinot Grigio here is a decent wine. It will go well with the meal, whatever we get," he says patiently. -pg 152
Okay, so he doesn't let her choose her own drink, and completely dismisses her when she speaks up. There are many other instances of him having total control of her actions. She is never her own person, and she proves that she's very vulnerable to being manipulated, as we see from the very first page, when her best friend makes her interview Mr Grey, even though Ana doesn't want to.
When Christian finds out that she wants to go to Georgia to visit her mother, he even tries to guilt trip her into not going. She wants to see her own mother! Seriously.
Christian knows that Ana is insecure, and he uses that insecurity to his advantage, much in the way most abusers do. He manipulates Ana into doing what she wants by withholding emotional affection from her, which he knows is what she really wants. It is in this way that he gets her to agree to sign the contract, and to try out the kinky stuff that she's expressed multiple times that she's not comfortable with.
The amount of times that Ana has begged Christian not to be angry with her is appalling, over the tiniest things, from having a male friend, driving her car, and wanting to see her own mother. She is often terrified of him leaving her because of something she's done--usually something insignificant like one of the things I've listed.
On page 476, she tells the reader:
"I become aware that once again the only empty seat is beside me. I shake my head as the thought crosses my mind that Christian might have purchased the adjacent seat so that I couldn't talk to anyone. I dismiss the idea as ridiculous--no one could be that controlling, that jealous, surely."
And, on page 498:
"If you'll say no, you'll say no. I'll have to find other ways to persuade you."Wait, what? Persuading someone to have sex with you, when you know they don't want to, is, to put it simply, rape. Right here, in this quote, Christian Grey is telling Ana that, sure, she doesn't have to have sex with him, but he'll make her want it anyway.
This brings me to the idea that he is a rapist. In the same scene, he tells Ana:
"No one's ever said no to me before. And it's so--hot....I'm mad and aroused because you closed your legs to me... I want you, and I want you now. And if you're not going to let me spank you--which you deserve--I'm going to fuck you on the couch this minute, quickly, for my pleasure, not yours" - pg 348This right here, ladies and gentlemen, is rape. And this isn't something that women should be thinking is okay. I've seen so many women whine and moan about how their men weren't more like Christian Grey, and all I can think is, so, you want your man to treat you like an object, to use your body disrespectfully against your will?
Look, I'll let you in on a personal tidbit: I was raped. And let me tell you, it was hardly as erotic as this book makes it out to be. Being raped is the most shaming, traumatising thing I've been through. It has still left me broken and unable to fully put myself into my relationships with men. Every man I've ever come in contact with, from my partner, my father, male friends, or just random men sitting a few feet away from me on the train minding their own business, they all scare me shitless, and I worry that at some point, they will rape me.
That this book sexualises rape disgusts me. That it has taught women to be passive, to have their sex lives dictated by their partners, makes me feel sick to my very stomach. Sure, it's made women far more sexual in their lives, and made them willing to try out BDSM, and other forms of pleasure, but at what cost? When women are saying that they wish their man acted more like this rapist, something is definitely wrong.
Christian Grey, unsurprisingly, does more rapey things.
When he and Ana have sex for the first time, Ana is worried that he won't fit inside her because of his erection. He has to actually explain to her that her vagina expands to accommodate his erection. She's so sexually unaware and immature, that she can't properly give consent. This is why minors can't have sex: because most of the time, they don't know what it is, what happens, and what sort of consequences may arise out of it.
The scariest thing is, Ana, at some point, does realise that she's stuck in an abusive relationship. On page 354, she tells the reader:
"Because I think I love you, and you just see me as a toy. Because I can't touch you, because I'm too frightened to show you any affection in case you flinch or tell me off or worse--beat me?"It's not even subtle. She's aware that she's being physically and emotionally abused. She's aware that this relationship is bad for her, and she actively fears Christian. At this point of the book, I honestly started crying, because this is a common thought that runs through the heads of women stuck in abusive relationships. They are aware that something's wrong, but they stay. They stay because they're so dependent on the abuser--as Ana seems to be--, or they stay because they fear what will happen if they do leave. This was the breaking point for me, and I can't understand how other women can't see this.
On the back of the book, it says that this book is liberating. No, it isn't. It is slowly breaking down all the progress that us women have tried so hard to achieve. That this book is such a best-seller, and is influencing women's sex lives in such a negative way (and I don't mean with the BDSM, which is actually quite tame, to be honest...), makes me worried.
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Negative Reviews
Gosh, there's been so much drama lately in the YA blogsphere concerning negative reviews. I know what I'm going to say isn't anything new; it's been discussed and talked about for months on thousands of blogs.
But, seriously, guys. Negative reviews do not equate to bullying.
In my creative writing course, we do a lot of critiquing. And sure, some of the things that my friends and peers have said about my darling work really stung. I mean, every writer sees their work as pretty much perfect, right? It hurts having someone say that there's something wrong with it.
But, these authors have to realise that there is no book that is universally loved. Every book will be hated to some degree, will be critiqued, will be torn apart by seemingly vicious bloggers. But on the flip-side, every book will be loved, will have posts gushing about how hot so-and-so is, will be praised.
I honestly don't understand this hate towards negative reviews. As with any form of art, the artist needs to develop thick skin to keep afloat in this business. If you can't do that, then, sad to say, this isn't the business for you.
I'm sure stars like Rhianna, Lady Gaga, and the plethora of pop stars (sorry, I don't really keep up to date with pop music) don't have a public hissy fit each time they get a negative review, whether from a professional reviewer or someone with a blog.
Which brings me to the question: why are these authors so hostile towards negative reviews written by bloggers, but not by professional reviewers? Is it because bloggers aren't paid, and therefore aren't qualified to offer an opinion about a book?
I'm a huge fan of Roger Ebert. He's a professional movie reviewer, and at times, he can be pretty harsh. He gave Deuce Bigalow: European Gigalo zero stars and said, plain and simple, "Mr Schneider, your movie sucks." (http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20050811/REVIEWS/50725001). So why is it acceptable for him to say that, without being called a bully? (Granted, Schneider did have a small hissy fit when Patrick Goldstein negatively reviewed this film...)
That some people equate criticisms to bullying is also offensive and just low. Bullying is a horrible thing. I've been bullied by people I thought were my best friends. Years later, I'm still suffering. The wounds never close--in fact, they open up at the mere mention of my bullies, bringing back years of trauma and insecurity and mental pain so intense it turned into physical pain.
And I promise you, what those so-called bullied authors are feeling from those mean little reviews is nothing compared to what I, and thousands of other people who have gone through such an experience, feel.
You know what constitutes as bullying in a review? If it goes something along the lines of this:
"So-and-so is a horrible sucky writer. Ze should kill zirself for producing such disgusting trash. I wouldn't even use it as toilet paper because it offends my butt."
See? That is closer to bullying than using snark and gifs.
It seems off-putting that we've come to such a point that we have to coddle these authors, give them an endless supply of praise even if we don't mean it. Where's the honesty in that? If all books end up being rated 5 stars, then it makes the star rating absolutely useless and defunct. What's the point in that?
The road we're heading is seriously depressing. I hope it'll go away on the 22nd of December of this year, being just a case of temporary insanity brought upon the trauma and pressure of the impending supposed doom of our world.
A girl can dream, right?
But, seriously, guys. Negative reviews do not equate to bullying.
In my creative writing course, we do a lot of critiquing. And sure, some of the things that my friends and peers have said about my darling work really stung. I mean, every writer sees their work as pretty much perfect, right? It hurts having someone say that there's something wrong with it.
But, these authors have to realise that there is no book that is universally loved. Every book will be hated to some degree, will be critiqued, will be torn apart by seemingly vicious bloggers. But on the flip-side, every book will be loved, will have posts gushing about how hot so-and-so is, will be praised.
I honestly don't understand this hate towards negative reviews. As with any form of art, the artist needs to develop thick skin to keep afloat in this business. If you can't do that, then, sad to say, this isn't the business for you.
I'm sure stars like Rhianna, Lady Gaga, and the plethora of pop stars (sorry, I don't really keep up to date with pop music) don't have a public hissy fit each time they get a negative review, whether from a professional reviewer or someone with a blog.
Which brings me to the question: why are these authors so hostile towards negative reviews written by bloggers, but not by professional reviewers? Is it because bloggers aren't paid, and therefore aren't qualified to offer an opinion about a book?
I'm a huge fan of Roger Ebert. He's a professional movie reviewer, and at times, he can be pretty harsh. He gave Deuce Bigalow: European Gigalo zero stars and said, plain and simple, "Mr Schneider, your movie sucks." (http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20050811/REVIEWS/50725001). So why is it acceptable for him to say that, without being called a bully? (Granted, Schneider did have a small hissy fit when Patrick Goldstein negatively reviewed this film...)
That some people equate criticisms to bullying is also offensive and just low. Bullying is a horrible thing. I've been bullied by people I thought were my best friends. Years later, I'm still suffering. The wounds never close--in fact, they open up at the mere mention of my bullies, bringing back years of trauma and insecurity and mental pain so intense it turned into physical pain.
And I promise you, what those so-called bullied authors are feeling from those mean little reviews is nothing compared to what I, and thousands of other people who have gone through such an experience, feel.
You know what constitutes as bullying in a review? If it goes something along the lines of this:
"So-and-so is a horrible sucky writer. Ze should kill zirself for producing such disgusting trash. I wouldn't even use it as toilet paper because it offends my butt."
See? That is closer to bullying than using snark and gifs.
It seems off-putting that we've come to such a point that we have to coddle these authors, give them an endless supply of praise even if we don't mean it. Where's the honesty in that? If all books end up being rated 5 stars, then it makes the star rating absolutely useless and defunct. What's the point in that?
The road we're heading is seriously depressing. I hope it'll go away on the 22nd of December of this year, being just a case of temporary insanity brought upon the trauma and pressure of the impending supposed doom of our world.
A girl can dream, right?
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