Playing together in the City of Invention

by Yonmei

Fay Weldon describes it in her epistolatory novel (Letters to Alice) on reading Jane Austen: the City of Invention. It is a beautiful metaphor for the process of creative writing.

It glitters and glances with life, and gossip, and colour, and fantasy: it is brilliant, it is illuminated, by day by the sun of enthusiasm and by night by the moon of inspiration. It has its towers and pinnacles, its commanding heights and its swooning depths: it has public buildings and worthy ancient monuments, which some find boring and others magnificent. It has its central districts and its suburbs, some salubrious, some seedy, some safe, some frightening. Those who founded it, who built it, house by house, are the novelists, the writers, the poets. And it is to this city that the readers come, to admire, to marvel and explore.

To build a house in the City, you need words: and means of communicating those words. There are whole districts in the City of Invention which are shimmery places built of pixels and light, constructions which exist on the Internet alone. But still, the more secure districts, the more prestigious places to build, the ones more sure of visitors and history: these are the places of print and paper, houses built and opened by publisher. (Some say there can still be found, somewhere in the City, the hollow places where the oral tradition, the houses built of sound, still stand – invisible places, built for the ear to appreciate, not the eye to see.)

There is a curious thing about the City of Invention; while in principle anyone can build there, and can build their house however they choose, out of whatever material they choose, and anyone is free to walk the streets of the city and enter any house and say what they will about the building, in practice some people find it easier to do this than others.

The reasons are clear enough if you take the trouble to look at them: there are stockpiles of building material for Euro-American houses piled all over the city, all the bricks and mortar and wood and plaster you would need, and if you want to build this house in the Fantasy district, you can get all the dragons and gnomes and elves and kelpies you like at the Emporium just down the street, there is a vast supply of materiel ready available, free to all, in the storerooms and dungeons of the Castle of King Arthur, which stands at the very centre of Fantasy District, surrounded by the woods and glades of Sherwood Forest, in which all are free to hunt and build with what they find. Providing that they can find it there.

But if you want to build a house from another tradition, the material often has to be carried for miles, to great resistance from the European/American dwellers in the City of Invention, who will point out that with all the material for building already there, why do you need to bring in more? Look at the stockpiles, they say – we’ll never run out. Look at the material stored in the Castle of King Arthur, look at how elegantly the buildings made in our tradition fit in with the buildings already here. Your imported material breaks up the plan of the city, it stands out, it looks weird, it’s badly designed, you don’t know how to build! Do it like we do it, and your house will stand for the ages. Your way makes the streets look messy, it blocks traffic, it’s just not right. When the European/American dwellers in the City of Invention make use of this imported material, however, they do so – in the estimation of all their peers – tastefully and thoughtfully, using a familiar foundation, lightly and decoratively blending the new imports with the old style.

The readers who protest that this style of building hurts their eyes…

Once a house is built and open for visitors, it is open to criticism. This is true whether the house is great or small, castle or cottage or lean-to shed; indeed, the rule of thumb in the City is that the greater the building, the vaster the basements will need to be to store the criticism. (Castle Shakespeare looms so high, some say, because it rests not on solid rock but on centuries of words written about the towering plays.) Yes, some writers sulk and some smile and some spit poison as the readers wander in: some saying banally “the wallpaper in this chapter should be green”, some that the house could do with a dusting, some demanding a complete refurbishment, many tugging at the writer’s sleeve and demanding another new house to wander round, built as much like the old as possible. But on the whole, writers hold their peace: the readers may be the shifting and unstable population of the City of Invention, but without them there is much doubt that the City would exist at all. And besides, whatever they say: there is no worse fate for a house in the City of Invention than to have no visitors at all, but perish within an overgrown garden of ignored weeds.

Just as anyone may build, so anyone may read: the City of Invention’s gates stand open. Some visitors and some citizens of the City of Invention forget that rule, though it is the law on which the existence of the City rests.

Elizabeth Bear built a house in the City of Invention: Blood and Iron. Deepad noticed something odd about its construction, something painful to some of the visitors, and wrote about that: I didn’t dream of dragons. Willow’s Avalon found that house too painful to stay in for long, and wrote a letter to the author explaining why: which letter was noted and acknowledged by the Bear: You’re right. You’re pretty much right categorically and without exception, and I’m sorry to have misled you for a moment into believing I think anything different.

Sadly, it didn’t end there. The first set of links is mostly the good citizen stuff (Rydra Wong became the link collector, and all these links go to her journal): 15 January 2009, 16 January 2009, 17 January 2009, 18 January 2009, the point at which everything really blew up and racist abuse got hurled at Elizabeth Bear’s critics 18 January 2009, 19 January 2009, the OH JOHN RINGO NO edition 19 January 2009, morning 20 January 2009, evening 20 January 2009. Yes, I know it’s a lot of links. It was a big bomb. It blew up in all sorts of nasty ways. In the course of it, at least two people deleted their journals (though Livejournal of course gives one the option of resurrecting within 30 days), so, like Arnie, they may be back…

Karen Healey managed to summarise the whole blow-up in remarkably few words, though:

The discussion began with “How can white folk write CoC in a manner that does not objectify or Other them?” but quickly degenerated into who was allowed to give input on this matter and hey! Turned out it wasn’t PoC, because they won’t be nice and give points for good intentions and trying really hard even when the actual portrayal is offensive and why are they so mean it would be so much easier to take their much-repeated advice if it wasn’t for their tone. Or some such.

I think the big question of this particular imbroglio isn’t “How do white folk write CoC well?” but “HOLY SHIT did she really just SAY that?”

Elizabeth Bear herself, when challenged why she had said nothing about or to the several friends who were part of the racist blow-up:

Do not confuse my politeness, my willingness to listen to criticism, or my acceptance of the need to sometimes take one for the team with moral cowardice, a susceptibility to bullying, or any plans to throw any of my friends under the bus whether I disagree with them or not.

[Update: collection of links mostly responding to this assertion, Rydra Wong's journal, 22 January 2009.]

Good advice for people whose friends are bigots, any flavour:

You know a few. Don’t try to tell me you don’t. And you even get along with some of them, because many homophobes have other fine qualities which make them hard workers, good friends, and charming dinner guests. So there may be a couple lurking around in your party. If they rear their ugly heads, it is your responsibility as the host to gently push their snouts back into the mud and filth from which they have truculently emerged.

The rebuff should match in tone, severity and intensity the nature of the offense. If your guest has committed an accidental heinosity out of thoughtlessness or ignorance–for instance, saying, “Oh, why didn’t you bring your wife along?” to Alan after he mentions that he’s married, simply pointing out the error politely is the most appropriate response. After that, the response elevates with the level of intentional offensiveness. A sample graduated scale is appended below:

“Y’know, I don’t see why they think they should be able to get married just like normal people.”
- “Well, Joe Bob, there are some folks who would say the same about rednecks like yourself.”

“So these two lesbians walk into a bar…”
- “So these 50 bigots walk into the Republican convention…”

“Why should we fund AIDS research when it’s clearly God’s judgment on revolting perverts?”
- “I’m sorry, did you not see the NO ASSHOLES sign as you came in? I displayed it clearly above the door…”

“Sorry, I can’t sit next to him, faggots make me sick.”
- “Well, I’m afraid the only way I can accomodate your disability is by hog-tying you and tossing you out into the barn, where you will eventually be able to enjoy the dinner when it arrives in the form of pig slop.”

Now, these responses may appear rude to you, but remember that your guest was rude first. Your job as host is to provide a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere for your guests, and if one of your guests is making it impossible for you to do that, well, it’s polite to take him out behind the woodshed and give him a good hiding. Metaphorically speaking. Most ‘phobes who trumpet this sort of swill do so because they assume no one will mind. If you make it clear that you do mind and you are offended, ten to one says your guest will back down and apologize. It’s probably too much to hope for to think that this may also cause your ‘phobe to reevaluate his opinion of gay people, but at least you can probably get him to shut up for the duration of the party. If not, it’s hog-tyin’ and eatin’ slop in the barn for him. This is your party, and you’ll tie if you want to. (From A Straight Person’s Guide To Gay Etiquette, by the Plaid Adder)

- More blogging by Yonmei at http://yonmei.insanejournal.com

Previous: Battlestar Galactica continues Gynocide --- Next: Many Moons video from Janelle Monae!

Filed under Books & Literature, Criticism & Scholarship, Publishing, Race & Racism, fandom | Comments (8)