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HALFWAY THROUGH FRIDAY HALFWAY THROUGH FRIDAY WHEE WHEE WHEE
See, it's things like this that will make my co-workers think I'm happy to leave here. And I'm not, really -- everyone's friendly here, and it's a nice job, and the only thing I don't like is the customers. (But who doesn't hate customers, hey? XD;;;) But I'm not sure how to convey "yes, I'm happy, but not about leaving, it's just that I'm looking forward to Tuesday, so coincidental timing, you see, though actually I'm glad that I won't be working that day and so yes, I'm glad to leave, but ..." in a clear and concise fashion. For the moment, I'm just saying goodbye to people and trying to keep my mad grin to myself.
I petted a kitty this morning. :D A little black fellow, tiny but with a big fluffy tail, was crouching next to the sidewalk as I made my way to the bus stop. I called him over, and he came at me with that "running self-petting" motion cats seem to like (run by and rub side of head against human hand). I could only stay for a minute because I was running late (as per usual), but he was sweet.
And here's one more batch of book reviews, the last before I go back to required readings only. *sad cries*
Whores and Other Feminists, edited by Jill Nagle, is a more in-depth (and, I think, more helpful) examination of sex work than anything I've read before, partially because what I have read have been excerpts of collections dedicated to wider topics (Jane Sexes It Up, To Be Real, etc.). More importantly, though, it's less interested in Third Wave rebellion. (Don't get me wrong; I fully sympathize with the impulse of young feminists to say "We're a different kind of feminism than what has come before, and here's why." But it's easy to get caught up in the romantic notion of being an iconoclast, to the point where you forget to create a compelling theory in favor of making a good critique.) This means that there's more criticism of sex work as it stands (an interview with non-white women about racism in sex work, a guide to treating burnout for sex workers, an essay on the sexist exclusion of female customers), and more history of sex work during the Second Wave (like an interview with two creators of porn aimed at women, one mostly for lesbians and one mostly for straight women, who began in the 1970s). There's also a greater variety of professions examined: writer, film producer, and pro dom, along with the usual prostitute and stripper.
Some good essays, some not very useful. Still, it's a great introduction to the issues surrounding sex work and feminism. Among the essays of note are one by Carol Queen, a big-name sex-positive feminist, about the importance of sex-positive thought (versus the damage of whore stigma), and one by Carol Leigh about her creation of the term "sex worker." There's an essay on the "holy whore" concept, a topic I've seen a lot, but everyone who has a stance on sex work should know this information. I also found interesting the rebuttal of the Men Against Pornography manifesto, written by a sex-positive male feminist, that talks about why opposing pornography for the sake of feminism could be a sexist move for a man.
After that, I felt like fluffy reading, so I picked up Joanne Harris' Chocolat. I remember liking the movie, but I didn't remember much *of* the movie, so it was good. What I like about the book, though, is that the magic is less "gimmicky" than in the movie -- it's something that Vianne does, and accepts, rather than a trick she pulls. We also get to know her much better, especially in regards to her feelings about her dead mother, and her relationship with her daughter Anouk (her "little stranger," which is a wonderfully evocative nickname). Of course, there's also lovely descriptions of chocolates, chocolate pastries, chocolate drinks, and cooking with chocolate.
Only two things bugged me, and they were minor. One, I didn't have a good sense of the when the book took place. Because of the small-town setting, I didn't realize it was a modern-day story until she mentioned televisions -- which, I realize, could also be my big-city bias showing. Also, the way in which she writes from the perspective of the priest is like a transcript of what he tells his predecessor, when he visits him in the hospital. This breaks down in the end, when he describes a series of events over the course of an hour or so. It's good as a written story, with a sense of suspense; but, of course, this sounds odd when the character is supposed to be relating the story orally to someone else after the fact. (I'm guessing we're supposed to think that the priest just continues to talk to him in his head, even when he's not at the hospital, but this is unclear.)
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rivendellrose's recommendation, I picked up Elizabeth Eaves' Bare, a chronicle of the author's time working as a stripper at the Lusty Lady (in downtown Seattle, the place with the flashing pink sign by Pike Place Market). Honestly, at this point, the book was somewhat redundant. I've read a lot of stuff about feminist strippers in a short period of time. :P It's worthwhile, though, because she includes a lot of information about her personal life, and how it both contributed to, and was affected by, her choices about stripping. She includes sections on other women she worked with, including their life stories to show how their personalities influenced their choices about dancing.
Ultimately, I don't know if I'd call the book a sex-positive one in regards to sex work. For one thing, Eaves seems to retain an opposition to prostitution. More importantly, in her conclusion she determines that strippers must ultimately have hatred, or at least contempt, for men as their customers. She explains why, and it does make sense. However, it's important to remember that she is speaking from her own experience, and those of a few women she spoke with. For instance, Eaves herself connects her decision to strip with her desire to claim her sexual autonomy, to reject those who would place limits or impose their own opinions on her sexuality. This is different from, say, a woman who chooses prostitution out of a personal connection with the "holy whore" historical mythology. While I certainly don't discount Eaves' experience, and the very real possibility that sex work (as it currently operates) can alienate a woman from her sexuality or the objects of her sexual desire (if she is heterosexual and has male customers), I'm not convinced of her ultimate conclusion as a universal truth. (To be fair, I don't think she intended it to be universal.)
Sex followed by geekery? But of course!zinjadu lent me Finding Serenity, a collection of essays on Firefly edited by Jane Espenson (who wrote "Shindig"). What to say? Um ... "yay"?
Seriously, it's an awesome fannish indulgence. You get to read people writing coherently about things that make you go "squee." There's stuff on the awesome female characters (and Zoe as the perfect female warrior character), the awesome music, the awesome Zoe/Wash marriage ... (There's an essay on the "holy whore," too.) I also appreciated the criticisms, such as one essay on why the female characters *aren't* as strong as they could/should be, the failure of "The Train Job," or the lack of Asian characters in the multi-cultural world. I, of course, did *not* like the essay on chivalry, but everyone knew that already. :P For the cute aspect, Jewel Staite (Kaylee) includes a list of her favorite moments from each episode. There's also stuff about Star Trek and The Tick which are awesome. ("Come on, Arthur, get meta with me!")
I decided to read Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey because I'd heard good things about it, and I picked it up at the library book sale. I swear I didn't know it was about a sex worker. (And a holy whore, to boot. :P) In fact, she's a professional submissive, with the god-given trait (talent? curse?) to be a masochist. Yeah, pretty unique stuff for a fantasy heroine. XD
As I toldcoramegan when I was just a couple of hundred pages into the book (it's about 700 total), I didn't really like the method of introduction for the political plot. There are a ton of names, crazy intersecting family lines, and I wasn't even sure, at the beginning, why I should care. It becomes clearer as you go along 1) why the name-dropping matters (Carey does do a great job of bringing in all her loose threads of intrigue), and 2) why Phedre, the main character, cares so much -- it's instilled with the nationalistic sense of pride her country has as being the descendents of angels. Of course, that doesn't necessarily matter to *me*, but Phedre is a compelling heroine, and I could care about what she cares about.
Speaking of the national history: the entire setting is a partially mythologized version of Europe, with the main country of Terre D'Ange being France (and, uh, minus everything in between Spain and Italy that is not!France). Spain is Aragonia, Italy is Caerdiccas Unitas (former seat of the Tiberian Empire), Britain is Alba, Ireland is Eire, and so on. The peoples' histories do closely parallel actual history, and I find the whole thing amusing rather than trite, as it could have been.
Anyway, once I got past that first chunk of the book -- in which there were good things, definitely, but I wasn't fully committed yet -- I really, really got into it. I'd say that Kushiel's Dart is one of the best fantasy novels I've read in a long time (even though I haven't been reading much fantasy lately ... and even though it's more religious/'divine fate' fantasy than the usual magical breed ... but you get the point). I'm a good way into the sequel, Kushiel's Chosen (it's a trilogy, with Kushiel's Avatar after this one, and apparently there is a sequel book coming out in the next year or so?), and I'm enjoying it as well. The court intrigue is now mostly located in Caerdiccas Unitas, and there's that same problem of OMGsomanynames! but I'm willing to go with it. And we also have romantic angst in this installment -- but the good kind, with actual obstacles between the couple that they do need to work through.
So, yeah. Good stuff. If anyone wants to borrow the trilogy from me (I don't own any of the other books here, with the exception of Chocolat), just let me know.
See, it's things like this that will make my co-workers think I'm happy to leave here. And I'm not, really -- everyone's friendly here, and it's a nice job, and the only thing I don't like is the customers. (But who doesn't hate customers, hey? XD;;;) But I'm not sure how to convey "yes, I'm happy, but not about leaving, it's just that I'm looking forward to Tuesday, so coincidental timing, you see, though actually I'm glad that I won't be working that day and so yes, I'm glad to leave, but ..." in a clear and concise fashion. For the moment, I'm just saying goodbye to people and trying to keep my mad grin to myself.
I petted a kitty this morning. :D A little black fellow, tiny but with a big fluffy tail, was crouching next to the sidewalk as I made my way to the bus stop. I called him over, and he came at me with that "running self-petting" motion cats seem to like (run by and rub side of head against human hand). I could only stay for a minute because I was running late (as per usual), but he was sweet.
And here's one more batch of book reviews, the last before I go back to required readings only. *sad cries*
Whores and Other Feminists, edited by Jill Nagle, is a more in-depth (and, I think, more helpful) examination of sex work than anything I've read before, partially because what I have read have been excerpts of collections dedicated to wider topics (Jane Sexes It Up, To Be Real, etc.). More importantly, though, it's less interested in Third Wave rebellion. (Don't get me wrong; I fully sympathize with the impulse of young feminists to say "We're a different kind of feminism than what has come before, and here's why." But it's easy to get caught up in the romantic notion of being an iconoclast, to the point where you forget to create a compelling theory in favor of making a good critique.) This means that there's more criticism of sex work as it stands (an interview with non-white women about racism in sex work, a guide to treating burnout for sex workers, an essay on the sexist exclusion of female customers), and more history of sex work during the Second Wave (like an interview with two creators of porn aimed at women, one mostly for lesbians and one mostly for straight women, who began in the 1970s). There's also a greater variety of professions examined: writer, film producer, and pro dom, along with the usual prostitute and stripper.
Some good essays, some not very useful. Still, it's a great introduction to the issues surrounding sex work and feminism. Among the essays of note are one by Carol Queen, a big-name sex-positive feminist, about the importance of sex-positive thought (versus the damage of whore stigma), and one by Carol Leigh about her creation of the term "sex worker." There's an essay on the "holy whore" concept, a topic I've seen a lot, but everyone who has a stance on sex work should know this information. I also found interesting the rebuttal of the Men Against Pornography manifesto, written by a sex-positive male feminist, that talks about why opposing pornography for the sake of feminism could be a sexist move for a man.
After that, I felt like fluffy reading, so I picked up Joanne Harris' Chocolat. I remember liking the movie, but I didn't remember much *of* the movie, so it was good. What I like about the book, though, is that the magic is less "gimmicky" than in the movie -- it's something that Vianne does, and accepts, rather than a trick she pulls. We also get to know her much better, especially in regards to her feelings about her dead mother, and her relationship with her daughter Anouk (her "little stranger," which is a wonderfully evocative nickname). Of course, there's also lovely descriptions of chocolates, chocolate pastries, chocolate drinks, and cooking with chocolate.
Only two things bugged me, and they were minor. One, I didn't have a good sense of the when the book took place. Because of the small-town setting, I didn't realize it was a modern-day story until she mentioned televisions -- which, I realize, could also be my big-city bias showing. Also, the way in which she writes from the perspective of the priest is like a transcript of what he tells his predecessor, when he visits him in the hospital. This breaks down in the end, when he describes a series of events over the course of an hour or so. It's good as a written story, with a sense of suspense; but, of course, this sounds odd when the character is supposed to be relating the story orally to someone else after the fact. (I'm guessing we're supposed to think that the priest just continues to talk to him in his head, even when he's not at the hospital, but this is unclear.)
On
rivendellrose's recommendation, I picked up Elizabeth Eaves' Bare, a chronicle of the author's time working as a stripper at the Lusty Lady (in downtown Seattle, the place with the flashing pink sign by Pike Place Market). Honestly, at this point, the book was somewhat redundant. I've read a lot of stuff about feminist strippers in a short period of time. :P It's worthwhile, though, because she includes a lot of information about her personal life, and how it both contributed to, and was affected by, her choices about stripping. She includes sections on other women she worked with, including their life stories to show how their personalities influenced their choices about dancing.Ultimately, I don't know if I'd call the book a sex-positive one in regards to sex work. For one thing, Eaves seems to retain an opposition to prostitution. More importantly, in her conclusion she determines that strippers must ultimately have hatred, or at least contempt, for men as their customers. She explains why, and it does make sense. However, it's important to remember that she is speaking from her own experience, and those of a few women she spoke with. For instance, Eaves herself connects her decision to strip with her desire to claim her sexual autonomy, to reject those who would place limits or impose their own opinions on her sexuality. This is different from, say, a woman who chooses prostitution out of a personal connection with the "holy whore" historical mythology. While I certainly don't discount Eaves' experience, and the very real possibility that sex work (as it currently operates) can alienate a woman from her sexuality or the objects of her sexual desire (if she is heterosexual and has male customers), I'm not convinced of her ultimate conclusion as a universal truth. (To be fair, I don't think she intended it to be universal.)
Sex followed by geekery? But of course!
zinjadu lent me Finding Serenity, a collection of essays on Firefly edited by Jane Espenson (who wrote "Shindig"). What to say? Um ... "yay"?Seriously, it's an awesome fannish indulgence. You get to read people writing coherently about things that make you go "squee." There's stuff on the awesome female characters (and Zoe as the perfect female warrior character), the awesome music, the awesome Zoe/Wash marriage ... (There's an essay on the "holy whore," too.) I also appreciated the criticisms, such as one essay on why the female characters *aren't* as strong as they could/should be, the failure of "The Train Job," or the lack of Asian characters in the multi-cultural world. I, of course, did *not* like the essay on chivalry, but everyone knew that already. :P For the cute aspect, Jewel Staite (Kaylee) includes a list of her favorite moments from each episode. There's also stuff about Star Trek and The Tick which are awesome. ("Come on, Arthur, get meta with me!")
I decided to read Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey because I'd heard good things about it, and I picked it up at the library book sale. I swear I didn't know it was about a sex worker. (And a holy whore, to boot. :P) In fact, she's a professional submissive, with the god-given trait (talent? curse?) to be a masochist. Yeah, pretty unique stuff for a fantasy heroine. XD
As I told
coramegan when I was just a couple of hundred pages into the book (it's about 700 total), I didn't really like the method of introduction for the political plot. There are a ton of names, crazy intersecting family lines, and I wasn't even sure, at the beginning, why I should care. It becomes clearer as you go along 1) why the name-dropping matters (Carey does do a great job of bringing in all her loose threads of intrigue), and 2) why Phedre, the main character, cares so much -- it's instilled with the nationalistic sense of pride her country has as being the descendents of angels. Of course, that doesn't necessarily matter to *me*, but Phedre is a compelling heroine, and I could care about what she cares about.Speaking of the national history: the entire setting is a partially mythologized version of Europe, with the main country of Terre D'Ange being France (and, uh, minus everything in between Spain and Italy that is not!France). Spain is Aragonia, Italy is Caerdiccas Unitas (former seat of the Tiberian Empire), Britain is Alba, Ireland is Eire, and so on. The peoples' histories do closely parallel actual history, and I find the whole thing amusing rather than trite, as it could have been.
Anyway, once I got past that first chunk of the book -- in which there were good things, definitely, but I wasn't fully committed yet -- I really, really got into it. I'd say that Kushiel's Dart is one of the best fantasy novels I've read in a long time (even though I haven't been reading much fantasy lately ... and even though it's more religious/'divine fate' fantasy than the usual magical breed ... but you get the point). I'm a good way into the sequel, Kushiel's Chosen (it's a trilogy, with Kushiel's Avatar after this one, and apparently there is a sequel book coming out in the next year or so?), and I'm enjoying it as well. The court intrigue is now mostly located in Caerdiccas Unitas, and there's that same problem of OMGsomanynames! but I'm willing to go with it. And we also have romantic angst in this installment -- but the good kind, with actual obstacles between the couple that they do need to work through.
So, yeah. Good stuff. If anyone wants to borrow the trilogy from me (I don't own any of the other books here, with the exception of Chocolat), just let me know.