Hello, friends. I’m happy to report that I’m doing much better than when I last checked in, and as you might have noticed I was even able to finish a few posts last week. Hopefully this trend will continue. Also, this week I got Edinburgh Book Festival tickets, and I’m so thrilled that I’m going back. I won’t be there for long and I’ll only catch the tail end of the festival, but still — I had such a wonderful time in 2011 and 2012 that it will be great to just be there again. This year I’m seeing Naomi Shihab Nye and Caroline Lucas, and of course hanging around the festival bookshop and trying not to be too tempted.
The truly radical kernel in both of these books is the notion that as we drift through space in our tiny pocket of air and water and warmth, much too small and much too fragile, leaping together into an unknown and frightening future, maybe the best choice we can make is to try to take care of one another as best we can.
The essay above makes reference to Cory Doctorow’s “Cold Equations and Moral Hazard”, which I’ve probably linked to before but am leaving here again because it’s so great.
These photos of celebrations outside the US Supreme Court after the marriage equality ruling make me incredibly happy.
I am a bad feminist, I am a good woman, I am trying to become better in how I think, and what I say, and what I do, without abandoning everything that makes me human. I hope that we can all do the same. I hope that we can all be a little bit brave, when we most need such bravery.
#Charlestonsyllabus: a comprehensive reading list for developing a better understanding of systemic racism. Many thanks to everyone who helped put this together.
Some people never go out and Do Deeds of any active kind. Their heroism—if we may see it as heroism in a narrative sense—is surviving under strain, mental or emotional or physical or all three. Sometimes intolerable strain. Survival is a quiet ongoing necessity, and living under circumstances that one can neither abandon or substantially change has historically been the lot of many women. Because their struggles were domestic—because their choices were, and often still are, significantly more constrained than the men around them—they are overlooked as heroes.
On social justice and library cuts.
Lastly, I haven’t read Lies We Tell Ourselves, but as a reader who has long since been frustrated by obscure hints about “secrets” in plot summaries, I really like what Robin Talley says in this interview about making the jacket copy of the paperback edition plain and clear about the fact that the two main girl characters fall in love with each other.
Loved that Robin Talley interview! I think it's awesome that she and her publishers' team were in such strong accord about the treatment of the book, both the cover and the jacket copy. Yay for successful author/editor collaborations!
Yes it is, and I love the paperback cover so much! Makes me glad I didn't own a copy yet so I can get an edition with that one.
I need to read the Liz Bourke article because I really agree with that. Maybe it's because I have such a quiet life. Really all of your links look interesting. I hope you keep feeling well.
I just finished reading the Bourke article. You know what book came to mind? My Real Children by Jo Walton. Here's a character that showed so much strength and was a hero but in a totally domestic way. I took her strength for granted without thinking much about it.
That's a very good example (and it's Jo Walton again! Unsurprising that she's good at this, but still). One of my favourite things about that novel was that it explored the details of women's lives throughout the 20th century.
Jealous—I wish I was going to the Edinburgh Book Festival. But it's a pretty big financial commitment when you live in the States.
Aww yes, absolutely. I'm very lucky to only be a train ride away (a long train ride, but still).
I'm so happy to hear that you're feeling better.