Whistle, Daughter, whistle, and you shall have a pie!
-Mother, I cannot whistle, and neither can I try.
Whistle, Daughter, whistle, and you shall have a man!
-Mother, I cannot whistle, but I’ll do the best I can.Nursery rhyme
I was tagged to answer these questions by author of the wonderful blog The Orangutan Librarian. You should definitely go over there and check out her posts. Number one, she’s an orangutan, and number two, she has some great satirical pieces.
What book has been on your shelf the longest?
I was going to show a Bible picture book that I’ve had since I was 3, but it turns out it is not on my shelf any more as I have passed it on to a niece. So, here …
What is your current read, your last read, and the book you’ll read next?
What book did everyone like, but you hated?
OK, this is the question that calls for courage.
There are several that everyone agrees are great, and they probably are, but I’m avoiding them.
The Hate U Give, The Help, and The Secret Life of Bees.
I even have two of these on my shelf, but I haven’t cracked them open.
Reason? I’m super easily guilted. I don’t want to read a book that is going to call me racist, because even though I know I’m not, I’m going to feel responsible for all the bad stuff that happens in the book. I will go around hanging my head just that little bit lower. Then I’ll be angry that I am being blamed for segregation or for a police shooting in a city I’ve never been to, and … well, you get the idea.
What book do you keep telling yourself you’ll read, but you probably won’t?
The Brothers Karamazov. I’ve started it, and it was super good, and I know it has amazing writing and a ton of spiritual insight, but I’ve heard so much about it that I feel like I already know the ending.
What book are you saving for retirement?
At this rate, what I’m saving for retirement is probably my entire career as a novelist.
Last page: Read it first, or wait ‘til the end?
Wait, definitely. Unless you’ve read everything that came before, the last page won’t make much sense and, even if you can sort of figure out what is going on, it certainly won’t have the same impact.
That said, I have been known to skim ahead a page or two in a book, just to break the tension, when I sense that something really awful is about to happen.
Acknowledgement: waste of paper and ink, or interesting aside?
Ok. I have lots of thoughts on acknowledgements.
In general, I like them. They are sweet. I love it when the author thanks their spouse for all the sacrifices they made. Also, the acknowledgements can be a way to find out the name of the author’s agent, which is helpful if you write similar kinds of books and want to query the agent.
But I’m not fond of acknowledgements that fill 1 – 2 pages and, seemingly, list every single person who had anything to do with bringing the book to print. First of all, I can’t pay attention to all those names and my eyes glaze over, and then I feel guilty because clearly all these people deserve to be thanked.
Secondly, these long acknowledgement sections can be discouraging to a fledgling author. If a dozen people are listed, and every one of them is thanked for their “invaluable edits and corrections,” and is a person “without whose work this book would never have come to be,” we get the impression that it’s impossible to write a book (at least, a decent book) without a team of at least a dozen at your back. Which means that our current WIP is probably trash, which makes us doubt ourself since we know it’s not.
Also, I once saw a long acknowledgment section by Nicholas Sparks that was nothing but a bunch of puns on the titles of his previous books, none of which I had read. I didn’t end up reading that one either.
Which book character would you switch places with?
Bertie Wooster. Who wouldn’t want to have Jeeves on hand?
Do you have a book that reminds you of something specific in your life (place, time, person)?
Yes, all of them.
(I once told a Medieval Lit professor that because of a certain past friendship I had “issues” around the entire corpus of Arthurian legends, and added, “I guess that makes me a real literature dork, right?”
And she said, “I don’t know, I think most people have issues like that with different works of literature.” I think she was right.)
Name a book that you acquired in an interesting way.
A Meeting at Corvallis by S.M. Stirling. I read the first book in this series (Dies the Fire) by checking it out of the library. But I couldn’t find the second one in the library, though they had later books in the series. (What are you thinking, librarians?) So I was forced to go online and order copies of the missing books.
This shows the value of authors getting their books into libraries, by the way.
Have you ever given a book away for a special reason to a special person?
Only all the time. It’s called “forcing books on people.” It’s my social handicap (one of many). Apparently I communicate by giving, lending, and recommending books.
Which book has been with you the most places?
This is a tricky one. In my youth I was a world traveler, and I am one of those people who always have to have a book with them, so I have dragged many different books to some very remote places. But it’s never always the same one. I remember reading an Indonesian version of The Two Towers while on a canoe, and reading How Green Was My Valley (in English) sitting on an ironwood porch in the jungle. Little House probably wins, though, since I re-read that one on the ironwood porch as well.
Any “required reading” you hated in high school that wasn’t so bad two years later?
No. I liked To Kill A Mockingbird when we read it in high school, and loved it even more later. I hated 1984 so much that I’ve never gone back to it.
Used or brand new?
Have you ever read a Dan Brown book?
I can’t remember. I have read one by another person in a similar genre, and reviewed it here.
Have you ever seen a movie you liked more than the book?
The Great Gatsby (Leo DiCaprio version). The film made the characters sympathetic and the story poignant, which the book didn’t do for me.
Have you ever read a book that’s made you hungry, cookbooks included?
I don’t need a book to make me hungry.
I am easily guilted (is a theme developing here?) by books that feature starvation.
Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book Farmer Boy stars a 9-year-old boy who is always hungry and includes many detailed, sensuous descriptions of food. Man, that boy could put away the pies! Of course, he was nine years old and was out ploughing all day.
Who is the person whose book advice you’ll always take?
Not sure this person exists. Even people I respect greatly have different thresholds than I do.
Is there a book out of your comfort zone (e.g., outside your usual reading genre) that you ended up loving?
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver was out of my comfort zone and I avoided it for several years because I got the impression that it demonized missionaries as evil colonialists who don’t bother to learn anything about the cultures they enter.
Eventually, when I’d made some culture crossing mistakes of my own and been through some difficult personal stuff, and I had accepted myself as a flawed person and life had calmed down a bit, I felt ready to read it.
It is brilliant.
I still think it demonizes missionaries to some extent, but it is such good literature that even the Baptist pastor villain is portrayed in a complex way. It does a great job of showing the huge learning curve faced by Westerners when entering a West African culture. It deals with white guilt, parenting guilt, and more. At least three of the characters made me go, “This is me!”
Also, the sections narrated by the pastor’s oldest daughter Rachel are hilarious because they’re filled with malapropisms.
Now it’s my turn to tag you.
Tag! You’re it. If you want to do this tag, go home and do it, and let me know. Or answer randomly selected questions from this tag in the comments.
That’s common sense, but it’s nice that someone has written an article documenting the proof of it. Of course, the concept “ideological” is itself a relative one. Ideologues can’t see their own precommitment and would just call it common sense. So keep that in mind.
Now, here’s another article by the same author …
The go-to test for measuring implicit bias (based on reaction times in milliseconds) doesn’t actually predict biased behavior and probably isn’t even measuring what it claims to measure.
This feels like a vindication. One of my major reasons for distrusting psychological and sociological studies is that they claim to be able to scientifically prove to the victim … I mean research subject … that he or she “has” something like unconscious racism. And because it’s unconscious and has been scientifically proven, there’s no way to refute it. Denying it is further evidence that the claims are true. This kind of reasoning goes all the way back to Freud.
My whole problem is that my lips move when I think.Calvin and Hobbes
Oddities only strike ordinary people. Oddities do not strike odd people. This is why ordinary people have a much more exciting time … The old fairy tale makes the hero a normal human boy; it is his adventures that are startling. They startle him because he is normal. The fairy tale discusses what a sane man will do in a mad world.G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Chapter 2
Today we have a YouTube podcast by one of my favorite living writers, Andrew Klavan. Skip all the political stuff at the beginning (unless you need a laugh, cause Klavan is funny). For this post, we are going straight to the Mailbag segment at the end of the show.
At 34:10, Klavan reads a question from a listener who says that he is writing a screenplay. The writing process has required him to open up some bad memories of his own, which though it resulted in good writing, has been hard on him and has slowed his progress. “How do you deal with this, Mr. Klavan?”
At 34:58, Klavan agrees that this is a problem. “Writing can really rip you to pieces, especially if you are an unsteady personality.” Later, he will end the segment by saying, “Especially if you’re a really good writer, you’re really gonna hurt yourself sometimes, and you have to take care of yourself and heal.”
So far so good, if so obvious. This is something that all writers know, even if we try not to talk about it a lot because it makes us sound like overly fragile artiste types. Still, it’s good to hear this confirmed by a professional who has written hard-boiled crime novels and screenplays and has even gotten paid for them.
But things are going to get wilder. Klavan starts elaborating on why writing can mess you up. He mentions that if you write a villain, you have to tap in to that evil place in yourself. Then, at 35:40, he adds, “When you create female characters, you have to go into feminine parts of yourself, which for men can be very upsetting. I think that’s why a lot of male writers are alcoholics, because they don’t like to face that part of themselves because it makes them feel that they’re not manly.”
Whoa! Wait! Stop, Mr. Klavan. Back up. This is fascinating, and I have so many questions.
First of all, do you think that female writers have a corresponding problem? And if not, why not?
Secondly. Klavan has just said that writing female characters can be so depressing that it drives men to alcoholism. Wow. Now my question is, are they depressed just because they are dismayed to find they are capable of thinking in a feminine way? In other words, are they upset only by the implied insult to their manliness? Or … is there something inherently upsetting and/or depressing about being a woman, and these male writers are experiencing that directly? My money’s on the second one. I can see that it would be a lot to handle for them, poor lambs. Being relatively unprepared for it and all.
In other words, it just more fun to be the average man than to be the average woman?
And I’m not blaming anyone for this. If there is some truth in it, I think it has a physical cause (female hormones). Dennis Prager has said that if the average man could suddenly be given a woman’s brain for a day, he’d be totally overwhelmed by everything that’s going on in there. Whereas if the average woman could be given a man’s brain, she would go, “This is terrific! I’m free!”
Anyway. If there is any truth in my theory, it would follow that it is less emotionally taxing for female writers to write male characters than the reverse.
Based on my limited experience, I think this is true. Perhaps it’s because, to a greater degree than men, women are already in the habit of putting ourselves in another person’s shoes. We have been given a natural tendency to do this. We need to do it, as mothers, so as to intuit the needs of our children, whether they are boys or girls. So, we get a head start on that being-depressed-by-other-people’s-emotions thing.
A couple of caveats. No, I am not saying that women make better writers than men, nor that women are automatically good at creating male characters (there are plenty of counter-examples to that idea). Just that women already tend to do, in our daily lives, a perhaps slightly less intense version of that part of the writing process that some male writers find so depressing.
What do you guys think of all this?
“It takes a village to raise a child.”
When Hillary Clinton says this, it means your children actually belong to the State, and the State has a right to intervene if they don’t think you’re doing it right (which, trust me, you’re not). When normal people say it, it means only that in order to grow into healthy, functional adults, kids need more than just a mom and a dad. They need a whole community around them.
In the past, I’ve blogged about how living in a small, isolated community consisting mostly of extended family limits the options when a family must deal with abuse. That is still true. But it’s also true that living in a close-knit community can provide some benefits for children whose own parents are lacking in some way. They can receive re-parenting, or supplemental parenting, from aunts, uncles, grandparents, older cousins, and others.
Re-parenting in Harry Potter
Re-parenting occurs in Harry Potter. Harry, as we all know, does not have a proper family and lives as the unloved stepchild of his aunt and uncle. When he meets his best friend, Ron Weasley, he is introduced to Ron’s family.
From Ron’s point of view, the Weasley family is not all that great a place to be. It’s a large family, Ron is the youngest of many brothers, and he often feels overlooked. Also, the Weasleys are poor, not in the sense of starving but in the sense of wearing hand-me-downs and being subject to taunting from snobbier wizards.
From Harry’s point of view, Ron’s family is paradise. It’s an intact family with a loving father and mother. Mrs. Weasley is a great cook, and Harry’s wizarding gifts are accepted as a normal part of life instead of being hated, feared, and suppressed. Even the large number of siblings makes the household a fun place to be. Harry stays with Weasleys many times and eventually ends up marrying into their family.
Imperfect Parenting and Re-parenting
Over the course of the series, Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, also provides a father figure to Harry. However, it takes Harry some time to realize that this is happening because he has been conditioned to mistrust authority figures.
Harry is also re-parented by his father’s childhood friend Sirius Black. This brings out the point that all of us need re-parenting from a variety of people, not just one person or one family. Neither Dumbledore nor Black is perfect (Mr. Weasley might be perfect though!), but between the three of them they give Harry a decent composite father figure. That’s why we say “it takes a village,” not “it takes one perfect person other than your parents.”
Ironically, sometimes someone who is a flawed parent themselves can be an ideal supplemental parent. This is true of Dumbledore, who is a wonderful mentor to Harry even though he let his own family down in significant ways. We also see it in how Ron experiences his family as a place of being second-best, whereas Harry has a great experience in the same family. In some ways it’s easier to be a good parent to your child’s friends than to your own child. Thus, the need for re-parenting is not necessarily proof that our own parents failed us completely or were more than usually flawed. It takes a village is an expression that, properly understood, simply takes into account the fact that everyone is badly flawed. It’s like the interpersonal version of the need for checks and balances in government.
Re-parenting in Voyage of the Dawn Treader
In C.S. Lewis’s classic sea story, Eustace Clarence Scrubb has parents who are neither neglectful nor directly abusive, but they have raised him with an inadequate set of values that is rapidly forming him into a sluggard, a coward, and a snob. Eustace, when he is whisked into Narnia, is re-parented not by any one adult per se but by the total experience of being in Narnia. And ultimately, of course, by Aslan Himself.
In Eustace’s case, getting re-parented is painful. At every turn, he is asked to work harder, put up with more hardship, and complain less than ever in his life before. Then things get really intense when he turns into a dragon and, to cure him, Aslan literally rips away his dragon skin. Eustace’s experience shows that re-parenting is not just about lots of love, hugs, and healing emotional wounds (though of course it can include that). It’s also a process of re-training, being challenged and held to higher standards. We see this in Dumbledore’s relationship with Harry in the later Harry Potter books, where Dumbledore starts giving Harry difficult assignments and holding him accountable whenever he doesn’t get on them.
Re-parenting in The Strange Land
Ikash, the teenaged protagonist of my novel The Strange Land, has an abusive father and a mother who because of her circumstances is barely functional. Early in the book, before Ikash ever notices his crush, he “falls in love” with her parents, who have an imperfect but warm and loving home. They demonstrate to him that there is another way to have a marriage besides the one his mother and father have. It takes a village.
His crush’s father doesn’t immediately accept Ikash, seeing him for the at-risk teen that he is and a potential danger to his daughters. Ikash is re-trained and challenged when he sees that Hur does not trust him, and is motivated to become worthy of that trust. The relationship grows through a series of tragedies and setbacks, and by the end of the book, the way those two re-parent him is really a sight to see.
Ikash also finds father figures in his paternal uncle and in his older cousin Ki-Ki. In both cases, it takes him some time to trust them because of his previous bad experiences with authority. I didn’t consciously copy this dynamic from Harry Potter. It’s just a natural dynamic that often repeats itself because of human psychology being what it is.
“Found Families” versus Re-parenting
Once or twice while reading book blogs, I have seen the term “found families.” I take this to mean stories where a character is orphaned or rejected for whatever reason and goes on to find or create a “family” for themselves from friends they meet along the way.
Clearly this is related to what I’ve been saying about re-parenting. I am not sure that it’s exactly the same thing because I don’t know the details of what people mean when they say a “found family.” My sense is that found families might more often consist of peers, whereas when I say re-parenting I am thinking more of a character being brought under the wing of a mentor (or, ideally, a couple) who are older and wiser. Also, re-parenting can happen without the characters really being considered a family, as in the case of Eustace.
In the comments, please tell me what you know about the term “found families” and also what you love and/or hate about found families and re-parenting in fiction.
… the thing I propose to take as common ground between myself and any average reader, is this desirability of an active and imaginative life – picturesque and full of poetical curiosity … If a man says that extinction is better than existence or a blank existence better than variety and adventure, then he is not one of the ordinary people to whom I am talking. If a man prefers nothing, I can give him nothing. But nearly all the people I have ever met … would agree to the general proposition that we need this life of practical romance – the combination of something that is strange with something that is secure. We need to so view the world as to combine an idea of wonder and an idea of welcome.G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Chapter 1
On this blog, we examine some wild geological and historical theories. Some of them turn out not to be true. Others are inconclusive. We engage in a healthy skepticism about overconfident scientific pronouncements about everything from the human mind to the dating of human history.
Despite this healthy skepticism, we do try to use sound reasoning and pay attention to evidence. For this reason, there are certain wild historical theories that I’ve never felt the need to engage with. One of these is the flat-earth theory.
Luckily for us, someone has already done the work for us.
Faulkner got interested enough in the flat-earth movement to study it. In this short piece, he gives a handy overview of the movement and a critique of its reasoning. The reasoning appears to depend on a radical skepticism not just about things that have earned some skepticism like social science and carbon dating, but about any and every kind of research or scholarship.