Scan barcode
11corvus11's reviews
892 reviews
The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall
3.0
This important relic of queer history has sat in print on my shelf forever as I intended to eventually read it because of that significance. However, I don't much go for period pieces about the troubles of wealthy people nor do I much like romance (though this is mostly the misery of love more than romance.) I saw the audio available and figured I'm never going to get around to it and might as well listen.
It's very well written for what it is. But, it's clearly (white people) dated in terms of race in ways that I don't know enough what to say can be blamed on the time period. There is one scene with two Black performers that the authors descriptions of made me literally wanna crawl out of my skin and I felt bad for the narrator who had to read them out loud. It's also a miserable novel about the social suffering of an otherwise privileged butch lesbian and/or trans man depending on how you read it (the protagonist is referred to as she/her but expresses over and over from childhood that s/he IS a boy, does not feel like a girl/woman, IS NOT a girl/woman, etc which could apply to both given the understanding of gender then and now so...)
It's tough because I wonder if it's based on the authors life and I've certainly had some similar experiences with cis women who are into cis dudes and lifestyle that comes with them vs with not cishet pairings. I don't wanna take away from how frustrating and hurtful that could be decades before I was even alive and the rage hit home especially with her first lover. But, every bisexual (or lesbian turned bi/straight) woman in this ends up choosing men like as soon as a slightly ok one shows up, it's every negative bisexual stereotype you can imagine, women in general are the worst offenders of any and all suffering in the book, women who tend to be stronger are all servants of some sort, etc. I guess it lives up to it's title. If I was a young person reading this when it came out though it would certainly not make me want to seek out love.
I guess I can say I read it now 🤷
It's very well written for what it is. But, it's clearly (white people) dated in terms of race in ways that I don't know enough what to say can be blamed on the time period. There is one scene with two Black performers that the authors descriptions of made me literally wanna crawl out of my skin and I felt bad for the narrator who had to read them out loud. It's also a miserable novel about the social suffering of an otherwise privileged butch lesbian and/or trans man depending on how you read it (the protagonist is referred to as she/her but expresses over and over from childhood that s/he IS a boy, does not feel like a girl/woman, IS NOT a girl/woman, etc which could apply to both given the understanding of gender then and now so...)
It's tough because I wonder if it's based on the authors life and I've certainly had some similar experiences with cis women who are into cis dudes and lifestyle that comes with them vs with not cishet pairings. I don't wanna take away from how frustrating and hurtful that could be decades before I was even alive and the rage hit home especially with her first lover. But, every bisexual (or lesbian turned bi/straight) woman in this ends up choosing men like as soon as a slightly ok one shows up, it's every negative bisexual stereotype you can imagine, women in general are the worst offenders of any and all suffering in the book, women who tend to be stronger are all servants of some sort, etc. I guess it lives up to it's title. If I was a young person reading this when it came out though it would certainly not make me want to seek out love.
I guess I can say I read it now 🤷
Borderline: The Biography of a Personality Disorder by Alexander Kriss
5.0
This book was an interesting surprise. Usually going into any sort of pop psychology book I have somewhat low expectations. Part of this is because dominant culture is often woven throughout so much that it becomes frustrating. Part of it is that complex medical systems that are already problematic even at the academic level are simplified down too much. Part of it is that we sometimes get way too much of the author's bias or unethical oversharing.
The latter part ended up being a lot different than it usually is in this case. Borderline is a foray into history by Alexander Kriss that is composed alongside (mostly) a single case study. I often feel nervous about these sorts of things being shared even when identifying information is claimed to have been removed because psychological care should be 100% private. In this case though, it comes across that this was done quite thoughtfully and with consent and input from the patient whose case is at the center. There's even a clear discussion about the power dynamics at hand and if a patient can consent properly to something like this. I think the reason it works in this case is because the author is a psychoanalyst of the more classic type that spends multiple days a week over an extended period of time with their client. This results in a level of connection and intimacy that is inescapable. I found the accounts in this book to be honest in this regard as much as I can tell from the writing. The author was also open about his thought processes, mistakes, and shortcomings.
As much as my former advisors and professors would probably be disappointed, I love psychoanalysis. I love its fantastical focus on the unconscious and all of the things that we can't possibly measure. I love that it's near impossible to quantify and study like biopsychology or cognitive neuroscience, which is what most of my education was based on when I went to school for psychology.
I would say that this book is not really a biography of borderline personality disorder such that a complete beginner could pick it up and learn about it. I saw it as more of an expansion on the rather one-dimensional way that the disorder is viewed by many today. Kriss weaves together the long history of maladies attributed to women and argues that hysteria and related diagnoses of the past are older names for the same syndrome now known as borderline personality disorder. As a result, I think it will work better for folks with a foundational understanding of the current definition and manifestations of bpd diagnoses.
One of the best parts about how this book does history is that Kriss discusses the social position of the psychologists and theorists he is focused on. I went through years of school and psychology classes learning about dead men and their thoughts on the womens brains without ever learning which ones of them were slavers. We never discussed how Sigmund Freud being Jewish affected his place in the field and how he approached topics. We never discussed how American capitalism would be used to shape the direction of psychology when certain ideas arrived from overseas. There was rarely any discussion of patriarchy or privilege. Freud as a name was always attributed to Sigmund, not Anna, despite the latter having far more accurate and grounded beliefs albeit still problematic. I felt that I learned so much more about these various theorists by understanding their position in the world at the time.
One of the most surprising things to me is that Sigmund Freud, Sándor Ferenczi, and others were actually closer to reality in the beginning of their theories about why women are suffering (sexual abuse and exposure to trauma) before Freud decided to go extra misogynistic and buried his own history and Ferenczi's work. Through all of these histories, Kriss makes it pretty impossible to deny how current day treatment of borderline personality disorder isn't a whole lot better or more evolved than the treatment of Hysteria in the past. It might even be worse in terms of predicting the ability to heal because at least in the past it wasn't assumed that the patient was doomed as soon as the label was slapped on them.
Kriss also covers more modern day manifestations of care for borderline personality disorder and disorders related to traumatic experience. He has more favorable yet still nuanced takes on dialectical behavioral therapy and treatments around post-traumatic stress. He discusses as well the ways in which psychoanalytic concepts such as splitting were redefined as if they were new concepts with labels like multiple personality disorder. There is a case study he is careful to discuss with someone I would argue was manipulated by an internet "friend" into believing they have "dissociative identity disorder" and played the part. Kriss seems to argue more that people all have varying degrees of splitting into other personalities in one way or another, some of which are dysfunctional and some of which are just normal. It's more complicated than that, but that would make this a very long review.
Kriss has a lot to say about the DSM and modern day psychology centering it. Rightfully so. Something I learned in particular from this book was that PTSD being entered into the DSM was the first time that a disorder symptomology included an external event being the cause. Everything else is about problems with the individual. That is bananas to me. I knew this problematic aspect of diagnostic practices but had no idea that the environment was that absent from the DSM.
I will share one quote that stood out to me regarding how many paradigms claim we must create a new self while mourning the old one we somehow lost to a trauma or illness:
"We always add, never subtract. All the way down to the psychotic core, we can only be ourselves and the things that happen to us, that make us ill, also have the potential to serve as sources of empathy and ideas that challenge a toxic status quo."
Overall I really liked this compassionate psychoanalytic foray into the previously unknown to me long history of borderline personality disorder. I hope it will foster more empathy toward those with the label and lead to better outcomes for them and the world that we share.
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
The latter part ended up being a lot different than it usually is in this case. Borderline is a foray into history by Alexander Kriss that is composed alongside (mostly) a single case study. I often feel nervous about these sorts of things being shared even when identifying information is claimed to have been removed because psychological care should be 100% private. In this case though, it comes across that this was done quite thoughtfully and with consent and input from the patient whose case is at the center. There's even a clear discussion about the power dynamics at hand and if a patient can consent properly to something like this. I think the reason it works in this case is because the author is a psychoanalyst of the more classic type that spends multiple days a week over an extended period of time with their client. This results in a level of connection and intimacy that is inescapable. I found the accounts in this book to be honest in this regard as much as I can tell from the writing. The author was also open about his thought processes, mistakes, and shortcomings.
As much as my former advisors and professors would probably be disappointed, I love psychoanalysis. I love its fantastical focus on the unconscious and all of the things that we can't possibly measure. I love that it's near impossible to quantify and study like biopsychology or cognitive neuroscience, which is what most of my education was based on when I went to school for psychology.
I would say that this book is not really a biography of borderline personality disorder such that a complete beginner could pick it up and learn about it. I saw it as more of an expansion on the rather one-dimensional way that the disorder is viewed by many today. Kriss weaves together the long history of maladies attributed to women and argues that hysteria and related diagnoses of the past are older names for the same syndrome now known as borderline personality disorder. As a result, I think it will work better for folks with a foundational understanding of the current definition and manifestations of bpd diagnoses.
One of the best parts about how this book does history is that Kriss discusses the social position of the psychologists and theorists he is focused on. I went through years of school and psychology classes learning about dead men and their thoughts on the womens brains without ever learning which ones of them were slavers. We never discussed how Sigmund Freud being Jewish affected his place in the field and how he approached topics. We never discussed how American capitalism would be used to shape the direction of psychology when certain ideas arrived from overseas. There was rarely any discussion of patriarchy or privilege. Freud as a name was always attributed to Sigmund, not Anna, despite the latter having far more accurate and grounded beliefs albeit still problematic. I felt that I learned so much more about these various theorists by understanding their position in the world at the time.
One of the most surprising things to me is that Sigmund Freud, Sándor Ferenczi, and others were actually closer to reality in the beginning of their theories about why women are suffering (sexual abuse and exposure to trauma) before Freud decided to go extra misogynistic and buried his own history and Ferenczi's work. Through all of these histories, Kriss makes it pretty impossible to deny how current day treatment of borderline personality disorder isn't a whole lot better or more evolved than the treatment of Hysteria in the past. It might even be worse in terms of predicting the ability to heal because at least in the past it wasn't assumed that the patient was doomed as soon as the label was slapped on them.
Kriss also covers more modern day manifestations of care for borderline personality disorder and disorders related to traumatic experience. He has more favorable yet still nuanced takes on dialectical behavioral therapy and treatments around post-traumatic stress. He discusses as well the ways in which psychoanalytic concepts such as splitting were redefined as if they were new concepts with labels like multiple personality disorder. There is a case study he is careful to discuss with someone I would argue was manipulated by an internet "friend" into believing they have "dissociative identity disorder" and played the part. Kriss seems to argue more that people all have varying degrees of splitting into other personalities in one way or another, some of which are dysfunctional and some of which are just normal. It's more complicated than that, but that would make this a very long review.
Kriss has a lot to say about the DSM and modern day psychology centering it. Rightfully so. Something I learned in particular from this book was that PTSD being entered into the DSM was the first time that a disorder symptomology included an external event being the cause. Everything else is about problems with the individual. That is bananas to me. I knew this problematic aspect of diagnostic practices but had no idea that the environment was that absent from the DSM.
I will share one quote that stood out to me regarding how many paradigms claim we must create a new self while mourning the old one we somehow lost to a trauma or illness:
"We always add, never subtract. All the way down to the psychotic core, we can only be ourselves and the things that happen to us, that make us ill, also have the potential to serve as sources of empathy and ideas that challenge a toxic status quo."
Overall I really liked this compassionate psychoanalytic foray into the previously unknown to me long history of borderline personality disorder. I hope it will foster more empathy toward those with the label and lead to better outcomes for them and the world that we share.
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
Sentient: What Animals Reveal About Our Senses by Jackie Higgins
Did not finish book.
Did not finish book.
The callousness with which she discussed dissection and dismembering of each species without even mentioning the death that occurs between life and study harms the central thesis. How can you argue that other animals are so advanced and magnificent while also telling the reader they are merely objects to be taken apart? This is common in science books but this one is especially noticeable in how it discusses vivisection as if the animal just magically transformed into a happy clump of data.
I tried to push through but gave up when we got to the abuse and killing of owls. If you want to teach humans how wonderous other animals are, maybe consider the actual experiences and desires of the individual animals you're discussing, not just what pieces of their dead bodies look like under a microscope or how they act when their senses are mutilated and robbed from them. The only thing this book uses other animals to tell us about humans is to show how cruel we can be.
I tried to push through but gave up when we got to the abuse and killing of owls. If you want to teach humans how wonderous other animals are, maybe consider the actual experiences and desires of the individual animals you're discussing, not just what pieces of their dead bodies look like under a microscope or how they act when their senses are mutilated and robbed from them. The only thing this book uses other animals to tell us about humans is to show how cruel we can be.
The Blueprint by Rae Giana Rashad
5.0
It's difficult not to invoke The Handmaid's Tale when talking about a book like Rae Giana Rashad's The Blueprint. There are many pieces of it that resemble popular texts that came before it. However, given that one of the main criticisms of books like THT, despite Atwood clearly saying that she never meant it as a depiction of something that had never happened, is that they often focus on oppression of white women that has already been enacted upon Black women and others throughout American history. The Blueprint is somewhat of a cyberpunk adjacent dystopia taking place in an alternate history, present, and future- told from alternating time periods in different chapters. Chattel slavery was not abolished but instead shifted to a system where Black women in particular are still purchased and abused through a high tech system involving an algorithm which assigns women to men based on their social class and profession among other dystopian characteristics. The book is told both from the point of view of the protagonist and her biography of her enslaved ancestor, making evident the myriad of ways in which the two timelines collide.
I found this book to be beautifully written and the world building to be immersive. The book is extremely dark, but it did not feel pointlessly so or like trauma porn. The stage felt real and the characters were all believable as people. Part of this is likely because they are also messy just like real life. There is a lot of focus on intercommunity dynamics and how oppressed groups of people can mistreat one another when individuals are grasping at and holding on to any little bit of power they can get when the rest is taken from them. There were lots of themes about Black love, hurt, expectation, suffering, and liberation. There were discussions of power dynamics and at what level power prevents love and respect from being able to occur.
I admit about 2/3 of the way through I felt myself less engaged with the book, but I can't quite pinpoint why. It may have been the shift in focus to specific relationships. It's interesting because at other less dark times I found myself thinking, "why is everyone focusing on creating this relationship drama at this moment?" and then remembering that in any situation I have been in no matter how dire, there is always relationship drama going on. So, it's not necessarily a poor creative choice.
The best part of the book is Butters sharing her wisdom, but I won't say much more than that in order to avoid spoilers. I look forward to more writing from this author in the future as she expands on these genres in skillful and engaging ways.
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
I found this book to be beautifully written and the world building to be immersive. The book is extremely dark, but it did not feel pointlessly so or like trauma porn. The stage felt real and the characters were all believable as people. Part of this is likely because they are also messy just like real life. There is a lot of focus on intercommunity dynamics and how oppressed groups of people can mistreat one another when individuals are grasping at and holding on to any little bit of power they can get when the rest is taken from them. There were lots of themes about Black love, hurt, expectation, suffering, and liberation. There were discussions of power dynamics and at what level power prevents love and respect from being able to occur.
I admit about 2/3 of the way through I felt myself less engaged with the book, but I can't quite pinpoint why. It may have been the shift in focus to specific relationships. It's interesting because at other less dark times I found myself thinking, "why is everyone focusing on creating this relationship drama at this moment?" and then remembering that in any situation I have been in no matter how dire, there is always relationship drama going on. So, it's not necessarily a poor creative choice.
The best part of the book is Butters sharing her wisdom, but I won't say much more than that in order to avoid spoilers. I look forward to more writing from this author in the future as she expands on these genres in skillful and engaging ways.
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
New Adventures in Space Opera by Jonathan Strahan
5.0
New Adventures in Space Opera first caught my eye due to the sheer number of excellent contributors that I was already at least somewhat familiar with. Even with this excitement, I tend to go into anthologies with below average expectations as I can often run into as many duds as I do excellent stories. This book surprised me by how solid it was across the board. Even the stories that genre-wise were not my cup of tea, were still well written enough to be entertaining. Some of the authors I already enjoyed brought their A-Game, but I was also introduced to a few others whose work I will be seeking out after having read this anthology.
As Jonathan Strahan discusses in the intro, the definition of what constitutes the "space opera" genre, like pretty much all scifi and fantasy, is debated. Though, there is often a common thread and that is that some see it as a lesser form of science fiction. A bunch of legit nerds like us scifi fans pretending anything we like is cooler than anything else is silly to me, but it is human nature I suppose. This anthology has a wide range of styles and subgenres well complemented by its talented authors, making it difficult for anyone to argue that space opera is lesser in any way.
I read the book cover to cover and one thing I really liked is how long many stories were. One of my biggest issues with short fiction is that I often feel like it's cut off before I am even invested in the story. These entries are still short, but with enough length to settle into. There were some stories that I would describe as war stories, spirituality themes, or space fantasy, that were not my taste (but as I mentioned, not poorly written.) The rest though, ranging from what I would describe as adjacent to cyberpunk, satire, and general space scifi were totally up my alley. The stories that were my favorites were Extracurricular Activities by Yoon Ha Lee, A Temporary Embarrassment in Spacetime by Charlie Jane Anders, Immersion by Aliette de Bodard, Planetstuck by Sam J Miller, and The Last Voyage of Skidbladnir by Karin Tidbeck with Miller and Anders being tied for the top spot.
Representation in the book was also above average with many stories surrounding characters of demographics and nationalities that we don't often see centered in English language scifi. This was also a great pride month read. If you're familiar with many of the authors, you may already know that. If not, then I will tell you that many of these stories are wonderfully gay and spectacularly queer. I also tend to go into anthologies expecting otherwise, but since I was familiar with some of the authors, I knew they'd deliver.
Overall, New Adventures in Space Opera is a great collection of stories that both add new elements to the genre and celebrate its long and beloved history among non-pretentious science fiction lovers. Its inclusion of a wide variety of styles and topics means there's likely something in it for everyone. It's a great edition to any shelf for those who love scifi, and maybe many who don't yet realize that they do.
This was also posted to my goodreads and blog.
As Jonathan Strahan discusses in the intro, the definition of what constitutes the "space opera" genre, like pretty much all scifi and fantasy, is debated. Though, there is often a common thread and that is that some see it as a lesser form of science fiction. A bunch of legit nerds like us scifi fans pretending anything we like is cooler than anything else is silly to me, but it is human nature I suppose. This anthology has a wide range of styles and subgenres well complemented by its talented authors, making it difficult for anyone to argue that space opera is lesser in any way.
I read the book cover to cover and one thing I really liked is how long many stories were. One of my biggest issues with short fiction is that I often feel like it's cut off before I am even invested in the story. These entries are still short, but with enough length to settle into. There were some stories that I would describe as war stories, spirituality themes, or space fantasy, that were not my taste (but as I mentioned, not poorly written.) The rest though, ranging from what I would describe as adjacent to cyberpunk, satire, and general space scifi were totally up my alley. The stories that were my favorites were Extracurricular Activities by Yoon Ha Lee, A Temporary Embarrassment in Spacetime by Charlie Jane Anders, Immersion by Aliette de Bodard, Planetstuck by Sam J Miller, and The Last Voyage of Skidbladnir by Karin Tidbeck with Miller and Anders being tied for the top spot.
Representation in the book was also above average with many stories surrounding characters of demographics and nationalities that we don't often see centered in English language scifi. This was also a great pride month read. If you're familiar with many of the authors, you may already know that. If not, then I will tell you that many of these stories are wonderfully gay and spectacularly queer. I also tend to go into anthologies expecting otherwise, but since I was familiar with some of the authors, I knew they'd deliver.
Overall, New Adventures in Space Opera is a great collection of stories that both add new elements to the genre and celebrate its long and beloved history among non-pretentious science fiction lovers. Its inclusion of a wide variety of styles and topics means there's likely something in it for everyone. It's a great edition to any shelf for those who love scifi, and maybe many who don't yet realize that they do.
This was also posted to my goodreads and blog.
Leslie F*cking Jones by Leslie Jones
Did not finish book. Stopped at 0%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 0%.
Tried the audiobook and was ok with the format at first. But the longer it went on, the more it felt like a completely unedited conversational podcast where I'm constantly waiting for her to get to each point. So, I gave up, just not for me.
(R)evolution: The Autobiography by Gary Numan
4.0
Before writing a review of Gary Numan's memoir, (R)evolution, I decided to catch up on his later releases. To be honest, my interest in this memoir was due to knowing him as a great electronic and goth/industrial adjacent pioneer. But, unlike many who, as detailed in the book, always wanted him to stick to the early hits, I found some of his early stuff a bit too upbeat for me. The saxophones and backup singer style are just not my cup of tea. I've come to find that most of what Numan released after the mid 90s is right up my alley as well as more of his earlier stuff than I realized. He's put out a massive amount of music throughout his career.
Numan discussed his process for many releases, describing some of the later stuff (from Pure onward) as darker and that is certainly the case. I'd also go as far to say that this is his best material. The sound is much more evolved and shows a maturity with electronic media as well as the ability to grow with the technology. I also just love the darkness that comes with a lot of artists' later work who started from a more pop place (Kite comes immediately to mind.) Now that I've started from the end, let's get back to the beginning.
(R)evolution is an interesting memoir and one I chose to listen to as the author himself was reading it. It stands out from many musician stories, especially that of pop stars, in how he chooses to gloss over many of the more wild days and instead focuses on family and career. I don't know if that's just what is most important to him now, or if he is deliberately choosing not to highlight things he's admittedly embarrassed of. I can't help wondering what he meant when he said he was a bad partner or what he was ashamed of when he and other stars interacted with groupies. I get it, though. He also discussed a documentary team doing their best to agitate him in interviews and focus on a small part of his career for entertainment value. I can't blame him for resisting that portrayal, but I would totally read a memory from his former partner.
Based on this memoir, Gary Numan is a nerdy scifi fanatic on the autism spectrum (he uses the term Asperger's,) whose creative expression was truly unique and individual, composing his own material, moreso than many famous pop artists. I never realized how many scifi stories he wrote before then writing songs and albums based on those stories. I love it. I also loved hearing about how gay clubs were a haven as they were when I was a young rivethead/goth kid long before I understood my own gender and sexuality. This sort of crossover always makes me happy even though there can be conflicts and problems with straight folks in gay bars. Perhaps the difference is coming together over subculture and performance rather than the spectacle or exploitation that comes with cishet bachelorette parties or other voyeurs seeking comedic entertainment which is something both lgbtq folks and dark subculture folks deal with.
Something baffling to me is how bad he was with money. I know it's common for people who get a lot of money and fame quickly to screw it up. But, my dude, maybe don't buy a castle if you're in so much debt. I was a little frustrated by how he spoke about his money troubles, maybe because I'm poor and meticulously plan every cent. But, there's also a reality that you could never pay me enough to be famous. I would rather die. So, I know it costs a certain amount to have any privacy or life once you're in it. Also, many of his struggles with money were because of his creative and elaborate set designs for live shows, which seems very wholesome as it's clear that he always wanted the fans to have the best possible experience.
A lot of the book is about things I find boring like trying to have kids, Gemma (his wife) and his endless struggles with IVF, as well as both of their multiple plastic surgeries. It was unexpected again because of my own biases of what I think musicians must be like. Me finding them boring is irrelevant to the books value, just personal taste.
He has interesting takes on mental illness, particularly depression. I liked seeing a middle ground take on the often polarized debates around mental health drugs. In his eyes, depression is curable with a course of meds, but you can also become dependent on the meds and turn into someone you're not. I don't agree with this across the board (some people recover better with no meds, some with lifelong meds, some never recover despite all efforts and hard work, etc) but it's a valuable perspective.
There are sections where he mentions musicians he either worked with or who covered his stuff and generally does not have anything negative to say (with the exception of Bowie who deserved it for acting like a giant baby which he apparently later regrets.) But, some of them like Marilyn Manson have since been outed as serial predators and I felt a little frustrated that there was no mention of that. There also was some glossing over discussions of racism around not liking hip hop despite earlier in the book being flattered by some artists crediting him as inspiration. On public social media Numan has been supportive of BLM and pride along other things, so maybe he doesn't know the details or just made a creative choice not to talk shit.
What I really enjoyed was his discussion of how he processes music. He thinks of music with every possible sense, as a multidimensional exercise. Each album was composed not just for how it sounds, but how it feels, how it looks when performed, how he would move when performing. He discusses wanting to be a pop star from a young age but also having crippling stage anxiety. He partly credits his Asperger's for how he decided to perform as well. Watching him, you would not know, but he would basically think of how things should be and practice movements and expressions he thought were supposed to go along with it. Perhaps this sort of thinking is why he was able to become one of the early electronic music pioneers despite being told that synths were going nowhere, which is hilarious to think back on given the state of music today- most of which contains at least one synth instrument or computerized processing of some sort.
Overall, I enjoyed this peek into Numan's life, career, and creative processes as well as the experience of a multi-decade time capsule. I'm also glad that it inspired me to add a slew of great albums to my music library.
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
Numan discussed his process for many releases, describing some of the later stuff (from Pure onward) as darker and that is certainly the case. I'd also go as far to say that this is his best material. The sound is much more evolved and shows a maturity with electronic media as well as the ability to grow with the technology. I also just love the darkness that comes with a lot of artists' later work who started from a more pop place (Kite comes immediately to mind.) Now that I've started from the end, let's get back to the beginning.
(R)evolution is an interesting memoir and one I chose to listen to as the author himself was reading it. It stands out from many musician stories, especially that of pop stars, in how he chooses to gloss over many of the more wild days and instead focuses on family and career. I don't know if that's just what is most important to him now, or if he is deliberately choosing not to highlight things he's admittedly embarrassed of. I can't help wondering what he meant when he said he was a bad partner or what he was ashamed of when he and other stars interacted with groupies. I get it, though. He also discussed a documentary team doing their best to agitate him in interviews and focus on a small part of his career for entertainment value. I can't blame him for resisting that portrayal, but I would totally read a memory from his former partner.
Based on this memoir, Gary Numan is a nerdy scifi fanatic on the autism spectrum (he uses the term Asperger's,) whose creative expression was truly unique and individual, composing his own material, moreso than many famous pop artists. I never realized how many scifi stories he wrote before then writing songs and albums based on those stories. I love it. I also loved hearing about how gay clubs were a haven as they were when I was a young rivethead/goth kid long before I understood my own gender and sexuality. This sort of crossover always makes me happy even though there can be conflicts and problems with straight folks in gay bars. Perhaps the difference is coming together over subculture and performance rather than the spectacle or exploitation that comes with cishet bachelorette parties or other voyeurs seeking comedic entertainment which is something both lgbtq folks and dark subculture folks deal with.
Something baffling to me is how bad he was with money. I know it's common for people who get a lot of money and fame quickly to screw it up. But, my dude, maybe don't buy a castle if you're in so much debt. I was a little frustrated by how he spoke about his money troubles, maybe because I'm poor and meticulously plan every cent. But, there's also a reality that you could never pay me enough to be famous. I would rather die. So, I know it costs a certain amount to have any privacy or life once you're in it. Also, many of his struggles with money were because of his creative and elaborate set designs for live shows, which seems very wholesome as it's clear that he always wanted the fans to have the best possible experience.
A lot of the book is about things I find boring like trying to have kids, Gemma (his wife) and his endless struggles with IVF, as well as both of their multiple plastic surgeries. It was unexpected again because of my own biases of what I think musicians must be like. Me finding them boring is irrelevant to the books value, just personal taste.
He has interesting takes on mental illness, particularly depression. I liked seeing a middle ground take on the often polarized debates around mental health drugs. In his eyes, depression is curable with a course of meds, but you can also become dependent on the meds and turn into someone you're not. I don't agree with this across the board (some people recover better with no meds, some with lifelong meds, some never recover despite all efforts and hard work, etc) but it's a valuable perspective.
There are sections where he mentions musicians he either worked with or who covered his stuff and generally does not have anything negative to say (with the exception of Bowie who deserved it for acting like a giant baby which he apparently later regrets.) But, some of them like Marilyn Manson have since been outed as serial predators and I felt a little frustrated that there was no mention of that. There also was some glossing over discussions of racism around not liking hip hop despite earlier in the book being flattered by some artists crediting him as inspiration. On public social media Numan has been supportive of BLM and pride along other things, so maybe he doesn't know the details or just made a creative choice not to talk shit.
What I really enjoyed was his discussion of how he processes music. He thinks of music with every possible sense, as a multidimensional exercise. Each album was composed not just for how it sounds, but how it feels, how it looks when performed, how he would move when performing. He discusses wanting to be a pop star from a young age but also having crippling stage anxiety. He partly credits his Asperger's for how he decided to perform as well. Watching him, you would not know, but he would basically think of how things should be and practice movements and expressions he thought were supposed to go along with it. Perhaps this sort of thinking is why he was able to become one of the early electronic music pioneers despite being told that synths were going nowhere, which is hilarious to think back on given the state of music today- most of which contains at least one synth instrument or computerized processing of some sort.
Overall, I enjoyed this peek into Numan's life, career, and creative processes as well as the experience of a multi-decade time capsule. I'm also glad that it inspired me to add a slew of great albums to my music library.
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
The Sexist Microphysics of Power: The AlcĂ sser Case and the Construction of Sexual Terror by Nerea Barjola
4.0
When I see people ask each other what their guilty pleasures are, I immediately know what comes to mind as my own, even though my experience with it is often far from pleasurable. Crime media. I am an anarchist that loves crime dramas, even as I watch them complaining to myself about the overt and insidious copaganda. I am also attracted to documentaries including those that include true crime and violence against women. To say I "love" them would be incorrect. I often have a terrible experience watching/listening to/reading about them. I believe that, as a person who tends to run towards things as a coping mechanism, it's a mix of trauma as well as my unadmirable attraction toward human spectacle as a former student of psychology. I know that this is not an uncommon thing, but I often sit there as I binge watch horrible docuseries going, "why am I doing this to myself?" When I saw the blurb for Nerea Barjola's book, The Sexist Microphysics of Power- particularly the line, "A groundbreaking feminist text that frames our obsession with true crime as a form of sexual terror," I knew I had to read it.
I am no stranger to feminist and anti-authoritarian critiques of true crime and as a result, this book at times did not bring many new things to my consciousness. As an academic text, though, it must properly set up the entire scene in order for the argument to make sense. This makes it more accessible to a person new to many of these ideas, but it still falls into the realm of academia, and thus will be read predominantly by people in a field where many things therein are agreed upon. It's very academic but not offensively so- there is a point to it and all of the jargon. It is also very specialized around an event that I had never heard of. The author does not tell us exactly what happened until around 60 pages in, so in the beginning I did feel a little lost in understanding what some of her arguments were pertaining to. That said, to create a critique like this is to walk a very fine line. How does one write about this spectacle without doing further harm? How does one create this narrative without using information that was so gratuitously used for entertainment purposes by the media being critiqued? I do not envy Barjola in this task.
As you may have already guessed, this is a rough read. I took frequent breaks. The abuse and murders of Miriam GarcĂa Iborra, Antonia GĂłmez RodrĂguez and DesirĂ©e Hernández Folch occurred in 1992 and were subject of abhorrent media spectacle which included exploitation of survivors, displaying of gratuitous imagery, sharing of unnecessary horrifying detail, amplifying of misogynistic critique and punditry, and the crafting of a narrative that furthered the trauma of the event far outside the initial victims and placed blame in all of the wrong places. Barjola's decision to only name the girls in the beginning and end is one I understand but disagree with. She discusses in the epilogue the inability of media to share the girls' stories without being flawed, but I found the lack of naming to actually contribute to their objectification in ways the author wanted to fight. Outside of this though, Barjola painstakingly details the ways the media took a horrific event and turned it into an even larger cultural trauma.
Barjola details and critiques the myriad of ways that the media exploited and reframed the narrative to place blame on the girls and on deviation from heteronormative society (in terms of the murderer.) Much of this was obvious to me, but a couple of her assessments really stuck out and gave me that aha! feeling. One was her collection of interviews with local or adjacent girls and women and their discussions of how the events and coverage affected them. We know that these events of course create fear and the media coverage of that affects how that manifests. But, these interviews, more than any analysis in the book, really showed how abhorrent and irresponsible coverage of violence can literally traumatize and create victims far outside the inner circle. I don't have the answer as to what perfect coverage looks like, but I know what it doesn't look like. This book details that and the interviews wrap it up.
Another point Barjola made that really grabbed me was in her discussion of conspiracy theories surrounding the coverage. 1992 was nothing like the internet age we have today, but the media coverage and discussion of these events still birthed plenty of conspiracy. The idea of snuff was one topic that came up, and Barjola state what in hindsight should have been obvious to me. The media is the snuff film. The way true crime media in general, but especially in this case displayed the suffering of these girls while finding ways to blame and humiliate them (and in turn all girls and women) is far more affecting and terrifying than the idea of an under the table VHS of violence. We are watching snuff when we watch this footage. This part of her argument meant a lot to me and I will be using it when asking myself in the future what kinds of media I want to consume and how.
In the epilogue added to this edition, Barjola discusses the Netflix docuseries on the case which I did not see myself. She discussed the very interesting interplay of what might be called neoliberal feminism true crime or something of the sort, where a woman creating a show like this sees it as a feminist act despite being similarly exploitative. Barjola did not take part despite being invited- if one can call it that given that they weren't actually going to feature her- as it became clear that the series was another exercise in exploitation. She discusses the importance of counter-narratives to combat the flood of violence-against-women and women/girls-as-victims media coming at us from all angles. However, while there was a short section of the book discussing some women reclaiming things like hitchhiking, going out at night, and so on, I was also left wondering how this book itself fit into the spectacle. Barjola considers it a counter-narrative, but my experience of reading it did not quite match that. I did not leave it with images of happy women and girls in Spain going out together at night or of feminist resistance. I left it with a horrible story, an anger at so many (especially men) involved, and a question of how academia plays into true crime. Perhaps that says more about me than the book, though. I do not know.
It feels as if this book is both necessary as an exposure of the horrible ways in which media can create and amplify trauma as well as another chapter of true crime media. I do not know what the answer is to how to do this "right" as I do not think there is one. Barjola seems to believe the same thing in her discussion of using the girls' names. There is no way to perfectly write about misogynistic atrocity. But, there sure as hell are ways not to. I think this book is an important exercise in exposing those mistakes and also for the reader to think hard about the media they consume. I will be asking myself more going forward what things will do to me if I choose to venture into another episode of unpleasurable guilty "pleasure" that is crime media
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
I am no stranger to feminist and anti-authoritarian critiques of true crime and as a result, this book at times did not bring many new things to my consciousness. As an academic text, though, it must properly set up the entire scene in order for the argument to make sense. This makes it more accessible to a person new to many of these ideas, but it still falls into the realm of academia, and thus will be read predominantly by people in a field where many things therein are agreed upon. It's very academic but not offensively so- there is a point to it and all of the jargon. It is also very specialized around an event that I had never heard of. The author does not tell us exactly what happened until around 60 pages in, so in the beginning I did feel a little lost in understanding what some of her arguments were pertaining to. That said, to create a critique like this is to walk a very fine line. How does one write about this spectacle without doing further harm? How does one create this narrative without using information that was so gratuitously used for entertainment purposes by the media being critiqued? I do not envy Barjola in this task.
As you may have already guessed, this is a rough read. I took frequent breaks. The abuse and murders of Miriam GarcĂa Iborra, Antonia GĂłmez RodrĂguez and DesirĂ©e Hernández Folch occurred in 1992 and were subject of abhorrent media spectacle which included exploitation of survivors, displaying of gratuitous imagery, sharing of unnecessary horrifying detail, amplifying of misogynistic critique and punditry, and the crafting of a narrative that furthered the trauma of the event far outside the initial victims and placed blame in all of the wrong places. Barjola's decision to only name the girls in the beginning and end is one I understand but disagree with. She discusses in the epilogue the inability of media to share the girls' stories without being flawed, but I found the lack of naming to actually contribute to their objectification in ways the author wanted to fight. Outside of this though, Barjola painstakingly details the ways the media took a horrific event and turned it into an even larger cultural trauma.
Barjola details and critiques the myriad of ways that the media exploited and reframed the narrative to place blame on the girls and on deviation from heteronormative society (in terms of the murderer.) Much of this was obvious to me, but a couple of her assessments really stuck out and gave me that aha! feeling. One was her collection of interviews with local or adjacent girls and women and their discussions of how the events and coverage affected them. We know that these events of course create fear and the media coverage of that affects how that manifests. But, these interviews, more than any analysis in the book, really showed how abhorrent and irresponsible coverage of violence can literally traumatize and create victims far outside the inner circle. I don't have the answer as to what perfect coverage looks like, but I know what it doesn't look like. This book details that and the interviews wrap it up.
Another point Barjola made that really grabbed me was in her discussion of conspiracy theories surrounding the coverage. 1992 was nothing like the internet age we have today, but the media coverage and discussion of these events still birthed plenty of conspiracy. The idea of snuff was one topic that came up, and Barjola state what in hindsight should have been obvious to me. The media is the snuff film. The way true crime media in general, but especially in this case displayed the suffering of these girls while finding ways to blame and humiliate them (and in turn all girls and women) is far more affecting and terrifying than the idea of an under the table VHS of violence. We are watching snuff when we watch this footage. This part of her argument meant a lot to me and I will be using it when asking myself in the future what kinds of media I want to consume and how.
In the epilogue added to this edition, Barjola discusses the Netflix docuseries on the case which I did not see myself. She discussed the very interesting interplay of what might be called neoliberal feminism true crime or something of the sort, where a woman creating a show like this sees it as a feminist act despite being similarly exploitative. Barjola did not take part despite being invited- if one can call it that given that they weren't actually going to feature her- as it became clear that the series was another exercise in exploitation. She discusses the importance of counter-narratives to combat the flood of violence-against-women and women/girls-as-victims media coming at us from all angles. However, while there was a short section of the book discussing some women reclaiming things like hitchhiking, going out at night, and so on, I was also left wondering how this book itself fit into the spectacle. Barjola considers it a counter-narrative, but my experience of reading it did not quite match that. I did not leave it with images of happy women and girls in Spain going out together at night or of feminist resistance. I left it with a horrible story, an anger at so many (especially men) involved, and a question of how academia plays into true crime. Perhaps that says more about me than the book, though. I do not know.
It feels as if this book is both necessary as an exposure of the horrible ways in which media can create and amplify trauma as well as another chapter of true crime media. I do not know what the answer is to how to do this "right" as I do not think there is one. Barjola seems to believe the same thing in her discussion of using the girls' names. There is no way to perfectly write about misogynistic atrocity. But, there sure as hell are ways not to. I think this book is an important exercise in exposing those mistakes and also for the reader to think hard about the media they consume. I will be asking myself more going forward what things will do to me if I choose to venture into another episode of unpleasurable guilty "pleasure" that is crime media
This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.
Disability Intimacy: Essays on Love, Care, and Desire by Alice Wong
Did not finish book. Stopped at 8%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 8%.
This is my first ever dnf collection from AW. I found many of the essays problematic for multiple reasons. I mentioned the issue with the animal essay already. There is a shallow identity politics woven throughout so many of these where people just repeat the same few labels over and over and over without engaging much more with them than that- as if the labels themselves are revolutionary and not what it means to exist within and outside them. There's one essay from someone- whose work I'm increasingly liking less and less- who is diagnosing her mom with her own self diagnosis and calling a straight woman a femme. I'm just not getting much out of it too balance out how annoyed I feel. I'm not sure if this makes me more conservative or less.