Oh, really?

Historically, women authors get a lot of flack. Hardly any of them manage to struggle through the gauntlet of academic sneerage, the popular theory of “well it’s not like she wrote about anything serious” and The Great Specific-To-Female-Authors-Amnesia-Plagues that occurred regularly through the 20th Century.

But at least we have Jane Austen, right? Author of the Greatest Book Ever Written (ABC TV told me Pride and Prejudice was more popular than the Bible and I think that’s excellent news considering the lack of sparkling dialogue and pretty frocks in the Bible)

Only apparently, Jane Austen isn’t as brilliant as we all thought she was. Guess why. No, go on, guess. Cos she wrote about women and parlours and forgot to put in a few pithy remarks about Napoleon? Nope. Cos she couldn’t land a husband? Nope.

Apparently Jane Austen no longer counts as a literary genius because she didn’t singlehandedly arrange every piece of her own punctuation. Apparently (prepare those fainting couches, ladies) AN EDITOR PUT IN THE SEMI-COLONS FOR HER. Obviously all lady authors must give up now, our heroine forever sullied by this dramatic revelation.

Possibly my sarcastic tone of voice just got a leetle too high pitched, as all the dogs in our neighbourhood are sounding anxious. But, seriously. I get that new revelations about Austen’s writing style are actually newsworthy and of interest to the book reading world, but how is this beat up into some kind of scandal? Authors need editors. Having editorial input is not cheating, it’s now considered a vital part of the process, and if Austen’s didn’t do much more than replace some em dashes with semi colons, she was still far more lightly edited than any author these days who doesn’t have a close personal relationship with Lulu.com.

Once I calmed my ire and read the article properly, of course, I saw that it wasn’t actually proclaiming that Austen was a lesser author because she had the help in to tidy her manuscripts – though from the set up of the article that is certainly the initial tone, and others like this one have no problem with dismissing Austen’s contributions to her own books, despite the best efforts of the academic in question to steer the topic on to her more positive discoveries. The key to this literary “scandal” is that a myth has been exploded – the myth of perfection. One which was started not by Austen herself, but by her brother who claimed “”Everything came finished from her pen.”

So we have a great writer, built up into an impossibly perfect paragon by a male relative, and now that we have evidence that maybe she didn’t live up to that impossible ideal, who is going to be blamed? I really hope that this story doesn’t metamorphose into a vague sensation of “but you know she didn’t write it all herself,” one of those classic tactics of suppressing women writers that Joanna Russ identified. And yet… the headlines are way ahead of us, turning this story of interesting scholarship into a negative blow against one of the few women whose position in the literary canon is so ingrained that few have the bottle to try to kick her out.

The aspect that most interested me, reading through the sensationalist reporting to the actual quotes by Professor Kathryn Sutherland, is that Jane Austen’s personal punctuation style tended more towards the dash than the semi-colon… was, in other words, far more in touch with how most fiction writers work now than with her contemporaries (apart from, apparently, Lord Byron who was also prone to dashing about). I will be scouring the papers for a headline that reads JANE AUSTEN’S PUNCTUATION AHEAD OF HER TIME!!! or something equally positive but somehow I don’t think I’m going to find one.

@Fangbooks tweeted today: bloggers… would love to see an opinion piece on whether the trend towards rewriting/adding to ‘classic’ works is good art or lazy writing

As it happens, I have very strong opinions on this topic, and my answer is: yes.

Of course it’s good art. Of course it’s lazy writing. Of course some of the works that have emerged from this trend are cynical, shallow texts. And of course some of them are pure brilliance. This is what books do, that is, EVERYTHING.

I wrote the story “Relentless Adaptations” (currently available from Aussie suburban fantasy anthology Sprawl, and podcasted here) in response to this topic. While writing the story, I realised that I didn’t come down squarely on one side or another – and ultimately when I did (my honey, critting the story for me, was absolutely right to tell me it wouldn’t work unless I picked a side) it was not the one I thought I was supporting when I started the story.

There are many reasons why the Classic-Work-and-Horror-Trope fad is exactly that, a fad, and many reasons why it is problematic. These mashups generally (to my mind) never get better than their concept, and once you’ve giggled at the title, or in the case of Sense and Sensibility and Seamonsters, the awesome booktrailer, it seems unnecessary to wade through the actual book.

I do believe that part of the reason these books have become such a hot trend in the last year or two is not because people want to read them, but because they want to HAVE them, or gift them to people, and sadly selling books to people who don’t really read or buy books that often is the key to becoming a bestseller.

When these literature-as-gimmick books first started, I thought it was a giggle, though I giggled rather less once someone smart (whom I no longer recall) pointed out that what was actually happening was modern male writers appropriating literary works by women, and once you’ve had your brain opened by a thought like that, it’s hard to put it back in the box. Also, and I appreciate that I haven’t read more than two pages of any of these books (S&S&S was in my opinion unreadable, a grave disappointment to me) the thing that it reminds me of most is that awful Red Dwarf episode in which Robert Llewellyn (who wrote it) thought he was parodying Jane Austen when in fact he was serving up an embarrassingly ignorant “parody” of what people who have never read or even watched a Jane Austen story think they are all about.

In contrast, as I mentioned recently, Mary Robinette Kowal’s Jane Austen-inspired Shades of Milk and Honey is a smooth and elegant novel of which only one facet is the subtle parody of Austen’s books, characters and tropes. It is a work that invites people who love Jane Austen to share the joke, rather than inviting people who think Jane Austen is stupid to laugh at how stupid she is. In Doctor Who terms, it’s the difference between Steven Moffatt’s sublime “The Curse of Fatal Death” and the rather awful Victoria Wood Doctor Who sketch from the 80′s.

(more…)

When I first saw this book described by the author as being the book Jane Austen might have written had she lived in a world with magic, I did think that was a bit much. Obviously I wanted to *read* such a book, but really, comparing yourself to Austen? Isn’t that reaching a tad high, especially for a debut novelist? Also, let’s face it, a lot of authors have jumped on the Austen bandwagon. I’ve been burned by a lot of bad sequels to Pride and Prejudice, and while I never actually got around to trying that novel with added zombies, I did read a page of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, and I’m never getting that thirty seconds of my life back!

But then I read this book, and I realised what was going on here.

Shades of Milk and Honey is a novel so immersed in Austen and what for the purposes of this review I shall call Austenalia, that it seems impossible to read it any other way. It verges on parody, though the clever use of language and extreme authenticity of characters keeps it on the right side of that line. Which is not to say that there is not a hint of mockery about Austenian conventions in this book – but it’s the gentle kind of mockery that comes from someone who genuinely loves that author’s work, as opposed to, for example, the clumsy and appallingly offensive Red Dwarf episode written by Robert Llewellyn who had obviously never even watched a costume drama all the way through to the end…

Where was I?

I can’t speak to the reading experience of Shades of Milk and Honey if you are not familiar with Austen – I think it would still be a very enjoyable story, a pleasing combination of magic and historical romance with strong family relationships and much social detail. It fits very nicely into the current fashion for women’s historical fantasy, and while it differs a great deal from Alaya Johnson’s Moonshine and Gail Carriger’s Parasol Protectorate series, I can see it sharing their reading audiences. There is a potential here for mass reading appeal among the non-spec-fic community, as with The Time Traveller’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, the Naomi Novik novels about Temeraire, or the admittedly-not-genre The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler, and the book seems packaged to make the most of that potential readership. I hope it finds it!

(more…)

Day 30 – What book are you reading right now?

I was looking forward to this question all along, because it was so far in the future, and how can you know what you’re going to read in a month’s time? There was always the possibility that I would completely cheat and fix the question, but I hoped I wouldn’t.

And I woke up this morning and realised I couldn’t answer the question at all, because I finished reading Palimpsest by Catherynne Valente on the iPad last night, and I wasn’t reading a book at all. Horrors!

Luckily, despite a chaotic day of editing, rain, Worldcon stress, the internet getting all in my face, and general childrenness, I managed to rectify the situation by lunchtime. I was very stern with myself, deciding I had to pick up the book on my current to read pile (um yes I now have a prime pile separate from my two tier shelf, don’t judge me) that I was most excited about reading RIGHT THIS SECOND, in order to be completely honest and not just pick something I thought made me sound smart or serious or cool or awesome.

So I would like to announce that I am now reading Mary Robinette Kowal’s debut novel, Shades of Milk and Honey, which is as promised EXACTLY like reading a Jane Austen book with magic in it. It even has oldey timey rough-ripped page edges, and uses the word ‘shew!’ I love it already.

And with that, we come to the end of the book meme. Well, that was fun! It was kind of nice to take a break from talking about myself and explore some of my history of reading. Back to normal tomorrow, I guess, coming up with my OWN topics to blog about…

See you there.

(more…)

Day 23 – Most annoying character ever

Lydia Bennet.

Bar none.

In any medium.

(more…)

Day 21 – Favorite romantic/sexual relationship (including asexual romantic relationships)

Oh I have lots of these! Let me think.

There’s Jessica Darling and Marcus Flutie from the books by Megan McCafferty – you saw them snogging yesterday, I think. I really enjoyed the fact that McCafferty followed their relationship over five books and I think about ten years in all, taking them through the stages of awkward, weird but intense friendship, awkward teen romance, long distance sweethearts, seriously uncomfortable exes, and various other stops along the way. They felt real in that they both did the kinds of stupid things that young people do, and their friendships and relationships with other people felt just as real. I went into the final book seriously not being able to tell whether they would end up together or apart, and not even sure which version of that would be a happy ending.

There’s Elizabeth and Darcy – there’s ALWAYS Elizabeth and Darcy. I love this book dearly for many reasons, and I think part of the reason that it is such an excellent romance is that – once again – it’s about the faults of both characters, and how love means forgiving/accepting the flaws of the other
person while attempting to rectify your own. It only works, of course, if it comes from both parties. Too often in real life, people desperately try to act out their half of a love story, without the other person doing their share of the work. (Austen has some great examples of this uneven kind of relationship too, particularly Marianne & Willoughby) I should add that I always had a soft spot for Emma & Mr Knightley too, though my tolerance for Emma’s faults has worn off the corners a bit the older I get. They are less epic than Elizabeth and Darcy, but still terribly sweet.

I recently read Poppy Z Brite’s The Value of X, which had been sitting on my to read shelf for over a year, and fell in love with Rickey and G-Man all over again. In Prime, Liquor and Soul Kitchen, these two sexy chefs sizzled up the page, in books that are ostensibly noir mysteries but are really all about documenting what it’s like to work the line in the New Orleans restaurant scene. I love stories that have a strong romantic theme that are about established couples, and these books have that in spades. Calm, capable G-Man and crazy, manic, brilliant Rickey make a great pair, and while I enjoyed that ‘established relationship’ aspect of the books, it was still fantastic to be able to read ‘X,’ which told the story of how these best friends got together as teenagers, and how their families dealt with it.

Another deep favourite is from The Course of Honour by Lindsey Davis – until very recently, her only non-Falco novel. It depicts the love story of the Emperor Vespasian and slave/freedwoman Caenis, which is historical fact, though Caenis is only mentioned about three times in the primary sources. Davis takes this footnote of a real character and creates a believable story of her whole life, and how it could be that a former imperial slave ended up the mistress of an Emperor. She also brings to life Vespasian, who is immortalised in history as an old man who won an empire and kept it together for ten years, depicting what he might have been like in his youth. Though based on real characters, this is most definitely a work of fiction (which had far less to work from than, for example, Robert Graves with the Claudians) and their love story is gut-wrenching, funny, stressful, gorgeous, and worthy of a big screen epic movie.

I also love love love Howl and Sophie, Thomas and Janet, Nick and Mae, Young Jolyon and Irene, Owen and Hazel, Min and Cal, Hawk and Fisher, Harriet and Peter, Ned and Verity, Princess Mia and Michael & Alanna and George. Ten points to anyone who can name all the books!

My oldest ships are probably Trixie Belden with Jim Freyne, and Laura Ingalls Wilder with Almanzo. I also totally wanted Jill & Eustace, and John Walker & Nancy Blackett, to get together when they grew up.

(more…)

Day 09 – Best scene ever

Anna Louise Genoese writes beautifully about the type of scene she likes best. I have been able to come up with a handful of best beloved scenes or moments in books that come to mind, but I wasn’t sure if I could spot a pattern until I typed them all out.

*Sophie (and the reader) realising that Howl knew her secret all along
(Howl’s Moving Castle)
*a discussion on witch cliches ends when a house falls on Granny Weatherwax’s head
(Witches Abroad)
*Cordelia producing the traitor’s head from a shopping bag.
(Barrayar)
*Robin cracking up with laughter when he sees Laurence Olivier in blackface as Othello – one more clue that makes far more sense when Janet learns the truth about him and Nick
(Tam Lin)
*Beauty demanding “Bring me back my Beast”
(Beauty)
*Darcy’s terrible, unexpected proposal to Elizabeth, and her shocked response
(Pride and Prejudice)
*Nick learns the truth about his past
(The Demon’s Lexicon)
*Howard seeing words written on the wall of the spaceship, revealing a startling truth
(Archer’s Goon)

So there we have it. I love the scenes of surprise and revelation. I love sudden shocks, I love characters acting suddenly out of character or beyond expectations. I adore to be tricked, if it’s done well. And I love it when clues are disguised as something else, so that the rereading experience is so very sweet.

Which, quite possibly, explains why my favourite scene of all time is actually:

*The Shrieking Shack. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Remus Lupin face off with notorious killer Sirius Black, but he is far more interested in facing off with Ron’s pet rat… everything they previously believed falls apart, piece by piece, to be replaced by a new version of history, and nothing will ever be the same again. (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban)

For all JK Rowling’s faults as a writer, that scene is magnificent in what it does, what it sets up, what it says and what it leaves unsaid, not to mention the heady combination of revelation, visual effect and raw emotion. It is not really surprising that she was never able to top it.

(more…)

So after my thwarted attempt to have a no buying books for myself month in December (I swear, feminist tomes kept hurling themselves at my head, it was a moral imperative to take them home) and because my bank balance is looking somewhat sickly, I decided that I was going to refrain from buying books for the months of February AND March.

This is a very big deal.

What this means is nothing that gives me the ‘hit’ that comes from purchasing a book – which includes clicking pre-order buttons. So far what I have learned from the exercise is that yes, I am an addict.

I thought I would track the experiment (and keep myself from clicking ‘buy’ buttons) by keeping track of all the books I had more than a fleeting impulse to buy – ones that I definitely wanted for at least three moments. I should add that it is unlikely I would have bought all the books on the list without the pledge holding me back – at least, I really hope not.

So far I’m ten days in and I have 17 books on the list.

(more…)

I just finished reading Flirting with Pride & Prejudice, a collections of pop culture style essays on P&P, edited by Jennifer Crusie.  It’s the first of the BenBella Smart Pop Books I’ve actually read, though I was over at their website recently, geeking out at the range of books they have available and the free essays they are offering to promote said books, not realising that the cute Jane Austen book on my library pile was from the same range.

[I just looked again and omg Neptune Noir!  They have one on Veronica Mars.  And the Farscape one is called Sex, Drugs and Killer Muppets - how cool are these people???]

Ahem, back to Jane Austen.

It’s a fun, very readable book.  I like the fact that the essays are for the most part very short and conversational, though a few of them have great depth.  A range of topics are covered (two essays covering Bride and Prejudice, excellent to see!) so there’s a range of history, modern interpretation and adaptation, politics, academia and even to my surprise a goodly chunk of fanfic at the back.

The writers seem mainly to be – well, writers, mostly those of the chicklit/romance field from which Crusie herself hails.  The main theme of the book is the modern perceptions of Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice – and indeed the way that prejudice itself stops many people from engaging with the text.

By far the best essay is the final one, by the always-brilliant Karen Joy Fowler (“The Pelican Bar” is one of the stories of the year, have you read Eclipse Three yet? If not, why not?) who received mainstream literary acclaim for her The Jane Austen Book Club, and as a result has a wealth of anecdotal evidence about what people think about ‘dear Jane’.  I particularly liked her theme of the way in which people not only read Jane Austen’s various books differently as individuals, but also at different times in their life – Mansfield Park is a different book at 16 as it is at 40… it’s a stunningly sophisticated essay, also taking in the male preconceptions of Austen from publication through to present day, and in itself worth picking up the book.

There’s lots more to love in this collection, though. Its timely publication in 2005 (the year of the most recent P&P adaptation) means there is no mention of Keira Knightley at all, but plenty of reference to Colin Firth, Jennifer Ehle, Greer Garson, Laurence Olivier, Aishwarya Rai and Martin Henderson.  Good old Charlotte and her choice to marry Mr Collins obviously intrigued/bothered many modern readers, and Jennifer O’Connell’s essay “A Little Friendly Advice” is one of many that engage with that quandary.  There’s also lots of analysis about why Darcy is so hot anyway.  Laura Resnick’s essay on Bride and Prejudice pretty much echoes a conversation I once had about the clever use of Indian culture in the film, and how it’s about as authentic an adaptation as you can get set in the present day, and I like the way she has analysed the film’s successes and failings.  Sarah Zettel’s “Times and Tenors” looks intelligently at the way in which different eras have imposed their own cultural assumptions on film adaptations of P&P, and I particularly enjoyed her analysis of the Greer Garson version (my first introduction to P&P!) and how it swaps the importance of class vs. money, because American audiences were unsympathetic to the idea of money as a motive…

The book is full of humour and contradictions, itself proving time and again that Karen Joy Fowler & Sarah Zettel are absolutely right – everyone takes something different from Pride and Prejudice and at the same time, adds something of their own to what is there in the text.

Now to find out if my library also has a copy of Neptune Noir… sadly I suspect it does not!