It's fair to say that I take what previously I would have called a guilty pleasure in reading books about foreigners who go to France (or Spain) and rIt's fair to say that I take what previously I would have called a guilty pleasure in reading books about foreigners who go to France (or Spain) and rehabilitate dilapidated farms. It's a guilty pleasure because of course there's a level of exoticising what for the people these foreigners encounter is just their daily life, and a degree of Othering that I'm uncomfortable with. However, I'm not calling such things guilty pleasures anymore. Problematic, perhaps. It is a pleasure; I'll not call it guilty anymore. If I keep the problematic nature in mind, and remind myself that these are deliberately romanticised narratives, then I think I'm doing ok. The Olive Season is the second in a series. I've not read the first; I found this in a second hand shop, and while I considered buying the first I decided it didn't matter. All I need to know is that Carol fell in love with Michel and they bought a near-derelict farm with a few olive trees. Right, got it. Basically if you've read one of the Tuscany books you have a sense for what happens here. Water issues! Planting problems! Madcap guests! However things do get awfully real, too, as Carol experiences some very real and significant tragedy. Her honesty in the way she discusses these in the book is bracing, and a bit heart breaking, and could probably be a bit much for those who have experienced similar things. And it's appropriate too, since this is a memoir, not a story of a farm. As someone on the outside of such things I respected the way Carol worked through some of the problems in her writing, and the way she also integrated her discussion of the farm, and what it means to her, and how physically working helped her headspace. Look, the book is set in Provence, and written by someone who loves the place. Of course it makes it sound like it's a marvelous place to be. There's no denying the hard work that's involved in the olive farm, and Carol doesn't try to downplay it, but nonetheless... she can't, and the reader can't, get away from the fact that: this is Provence, and that will always have certain overtones for the non-Provençal. I enjoyed this book a lot as a holiday read. I won't go out of my way to find the other books, but if I find them by serendipity I'll happily grab them. ...more
I picked up this little anthology at Helsinki's WorldCon, from Luna Press. I'd not heard of them before but I in Current Fantasy and Science Fiction.
I picked up this little anthology at Helsinki's WorldCon, from Luna Press. I'd not heard of them before but I was and remain intrigued by their doing these non-fiction anthologies.
Yes, Helsinki was two years ago. Yes, I just got around to reading it.
As the name suggests, the essays deal with both issues of gender and of sexuality, primarily in fiction but also - and I loved it - in an analysis by Juliet E McKenna on the place of female-identifying authors across time in the publishing world. "The Myth of Meritocracy and the Reality of the Leaky Pipe and other obstacles in Science Fiction and Fantasy" made me think of Joanna Russ (as do so many of these sorts of conversations) and is well researched, persuasively argued, and did not - surprise! - leave me feeling completely hopeless. It's a fascinating way to open the anthology.
Some of the essays meant more to me than others because in some I am familiar with the material, and with others less so. Kim Lakin-Smith's "Doll Parts: Reflections of the Feminine Grotesque in France Hardinge's Cuckoo Song and Neil Gaiman's Coraline," for instance, was truly fascinating but I couldn't feel it as deeply as I might because I've not read either of the works (the Hardinge exactly because it's billed as being horror). And it turns out I am even less up to date with fantasy than I thought, because AJ Dalton's "Gender-identity and sexuality in current sub-genres of British fantasy literature: do we have a problem?" referenced sub-genres and authors I've not heard of. The essay itself was very interesting, don't get me wrong, but I was unable to reflect on it meaningfully.
Of course, some essays I had little problem accessing. Both Jyrki Korea's "What about Tauriel? From divine mothers to active heroines - the female roles in JRR Tolkien's Legendarium and Peter Jackson's movie adaptations" and Alina Hadîmbu's "Newly added female chapters to blockbuster franchises: gender balancing in otherwise male-dominated fictional worlds or a greater purpose?" hit on issues and franchises very dear to my heart, and I greatly enjoyed reading the explorations of Tauriel and Arwen and Rey.
Let us not forget that this anthology includes an essay about Magic: The Gathering! Which is not something I would have thought was very interesting a year ago, but now I do! Rostislav Kurka (their name is meant to have a circle above the 'u' but my symbols don't seem to include that one...) has helped me realise just how much more is going on in the fiction about M:TG than I realised, and how the cards' art reflects and helps that too. So I also love that Luna Press saw M:TG as a legitimate topic for inclusion here; the essay absolutely fits the theme, and of course both the game and the fiction are a part of the speculative fiction world.
Other essays, I should point out, are more interested in a broad summary, rather than focusing on one genre or set of texts. Cheryl Morgan's "Tipping the Fantastic: How the Transgender Tipping Point has influenced Science Fiction" was (as expected) a throughout examination of how trans characters have been presented in various stories, and what that means both for trans and cis readers and general diversity/understanding. Anna Milon's "Bikini armour: women characters, readers and writers in male narratives" also made me think of Joanna Russ, and made me cranky, as you may imagine some of what is discussed from the title (it's a good essay; it's a frustrating topic).
Overall I think this is a great little anthology - and it is little, at 236 pages in about an A5 package. Obviously there is plenty more to be said, and part of me hopes that Luna does another one... although of course there are lots of other topics to cover, and they've got one on Evil and one on African fantasy and science fiction, so those are both excellent topics, too. ...more
This is so utterly Peak History Nerd it makes even me laugh.
Many, many years ago - back in undergrad - I was walking through the building I spent way This is so utterly Peak History Nerd it makes even me laugh.
Many, many years ago - back in undergrad - I was walking through the building I spent way too much time in and there, on a shelf, was a pile of books that were free to good homes.
Reader, I have rarely been able to walk past a free book. I know, it's adorable.
So I looked through the books, and I grabbed a couple. Just a couple, honest. And they've sat on my bookshelf, unread, ever since.
Authorized Pasts is one of those books, and the other day I decided it was finally time to read it. And... it was better than I expected!
The idea behind the essays is the idea of 'official history': what does official history look like, function as, in different times and in different places? It's not something I've had much to do with in my own studies, but I am intrigued by official remembering and the uses history gets put to, so I was already coming from a place of interest.
Probably the best thing overall about this anthology is its breadth. It's not broad spatially; it's basically all European with a couple of diversions to the USA (I assume this reflects the fact that most contributors were from the same university, which when this was published - 1995 - leaned strongly in those directions). But it's broad temporally, with the first essay being Ronald Ridley writing about 'official history in the ancient Western world from he third millennium BC to the third century AD', and the last being Alison Patrick reflecting on French Revolution history on its bicentennial. In between, there's discussion about Carolingian history and celebrating the Reformation and how the remembrance of Captain Cook and Christopher Columbus are similar and different.
As a complete book one intriguing aspect is that almost every essay begins with a discussion of what makes something official history, or not. This was fascinating partly because the definitions seem to be different depending on what era is being discussed, as well as the personal definitions of the historians writing the essay. It also included some discussion of what even 'history' is, in the context of the time and place being discussed. And I love that stuff.
It must be said that the line-editing of some of these essays is somewhat poor; there are some grammar and punctuation issues that annoyed me, although they didn't get in the way of understanding.
I don't think this book is easy to get hold of, and let's be honest it's very niche. But I don't regret picking it up that fine day lo these many years ago. ...more
It's hard for me to adequately convey how amazing this book is, and the extent to which I think every privileged person in the "Western world" (a frauIt's hard for me to adequately convey how amazing this book is, and the extent to which I think every privileged person in the "Western world" (a fraught term, I know, and one that's even fraught-er after reading this) ought to read the book.
The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation offered a free copy to every US graduate at any level in 2018. So that's one measure of how important a book it is.
"Ten reasons we're wrong about the world - and why things are better than you think" is the subtitle and an excellent summary of the entire book. If you think you know the world and don't need your mindset readjusted, go here: http://forms.gapminder.org/s3/test-2018 . Then come back. I'll wait.
Did you do really poorly? If you stayed on the site and looked around, you'll know that so do the vast majority of people who take the test. In fact, humans tend to do worse than random, which is a most ridiculous idea regarding facts about the world.
Some of the most important things I got out of this book:
**The idea of data being therapy. Hans would have said he's not an optimist - he's not "looking on the bright side". He looks at data. He's not making assumptions about the world, he's looking at what the world is actually like. And things are not as bad as we apparently think they are. **Which leads me to "bad and better". Of course things in the world are not perfect; he's not suggesting they are, nor is he suggesting that things like war in Syria ought to be ignored. However, on a global scale, things are better today than they were in the past - and better than you think they are. His metaphor for this idea is the premature baby doing well in ICU: after a few days, are things better? Yes. Are things still dicey? Yes. Two things at the same time: bad and better. This, for me, is immensely reassuring as a phrase - I can be concerned about Syria, or Yemen, or whatever else, and still know that for most people around the world, things are better than they used to be. **How to think about statistics. It's all well and good to give me today's stats... but how do they compare to last year, and last decade? This is a question I don't ask often enough and ought to do more of. **Populations statistics don't necessarily move in straight lines. **A comparison of where "developing" countries (a phrase that Hans loathes, for reasons outlined in the book) are today compared with "developed" countries (same caveat) in the past - how much faster, for instance, the fifty countries of sub-Saharan Africa have reduced their child mortality rates than Sweden ever did (p171; he often uses Sweden as an exemplar).
Of course, I am coming at this as a long-time Hans devotee (although some people in my circle are even bigger fans...). The Magic Washing Machine was a revolutionary way for me to think about wealth and time and work. In Qatar, he discussed the connection between religion and babies... and the fact that there isn't one: it's about girls' education. And then there's his brilliant 200 countries in 200 years, which makes even my data-dubious heart glow. And then there's the fact that Hans died in 2017, while the book was nearing completion. I cried while I read the introduction, because in my head it was Hans' lovely Swedish accent reading it and I knew he was gone and honestly that just felt heartbreaking.
Even if you don't usually read non-fiction, I think you would do well to read this. If you are in business, or have some sort of connection to policy-making in government or an NGO or banking, you should read this. If you know someone in those areas, this would make a most ideal gift for any reason whatsoever. This book should become ubiquitous on shelves, and it should be ubiquitous when we talk about how to keep improving the world. ...more
This book should be read by anyone making policy, collecting data, or using data, about humans. Politicians, business people, public servants, medicalThis book should be read by anyone making policy, collecting data, or using data, about humans. Politicians, business people, public servants, medical researchers: all of them.
This book made me angry. That's important to know. It's also important to know that it was, mostly, good angry: it was appropriate and it makes me want to do something, although I'm not sure what.
I came across this book thanks to two Galactic Suburbia listeners, which is hilarious all by itself - that they both thought this book should be brought to our attention, and acted on that. It is, of course, exactly up our alley, and so I bought it.
The subtitle to the book is "Exposing data bias in a world designed for men," and together with the title this does tell you exactly what the book is about. It's about showing both how women are invisible - if data is not sex-disaggregated, if only men are tested or questioned or used - and data bias: men are assumed to be representative of humanity, men's opinions are assumed to be representative (because they're not thought of as men's opinions), and so on.
The results are devastating.
The results in the book itself are devastating, for me - the extent to which women's experiences are ignored, sex differences are ignored where they do actually matter (eg medication - the typical fat/muscle ratio in men and women is different, which means differences in how medications affect them), and so on. The results in real life are also devastating: only using male crash-test dummies in cars means cars aren't safety tested for women, and cars aren't safety designed for women (smaller on average, different bodies, etc); safety vests not fitting over boobs; building relief housing after disasters with no kitchens.
So, yes, I got angry.
I also got angry when Perez pointed out the areas where the data does exist, but it's been ignored: mandating paid parental leave is good for the economy; how about anatomy diagrams that only show male bodies? And the areas where, because it's a female-only issue (like PMS, or endometriosis) the research just hasn't been done.
Perez, I imagine, also got angry when she was doing the exhaustive research needed for this book. There's a lot of data, and a lot of footnotes. She's also making firm, reasonable, and clear demands for change, and pointing out some ways that those changes could happen. Many of the changes will be hard: can you imagine what it would take to mandate political parties having genuine female representation? However, her data on what happens in countries that have increased female political representation is, to my mind, compelling; increased expenditure on education, for instance, and - unsurprisingly - issues that specifically affect women more than men: family planning, for instance, and policies around care. And anyone who thinks that these issues don't need to be political ones, when they affect 50% of the population, needs to have a good hard think about whether they're a misogynist. Perez also suggests some ways in which more, better, and new data can be collected... but it's going to be a long hard slog to make the necessary changes, in the vast areas of data collection that exist now, before those changes are fully realised.
I have recently fallen into obsession with cyanotype. Naturally, I had to buy this book.
If you’re interested in cyanotype this book had a lot of detaI have recently fallen into obsession with cyanotype. Naturally, I had to buy this book.
If you’re interested in cyanotype this book had a lot of detail about the chemistry behind the process, and what seems like a very thorough exploration of typical paper and toning options. The last quarter or so of the book is contributions from various artists using cyanotype today. Some talk about their process, others about their inspiration, and all have examples of their work.
I have two complains about the book - one regional, one I guess artistic. The first is that of course there is no mention of where to source paper in Australia. I know we’re a small market; it just makes me a little sad to see Australia, and Asia!, ignored when talking about markets. The second complaint is that the how-to section focuses almost exclusively on cyanotype from negatives. As far as I know, the process started as photograms - using objects, not negatives. I would have really appreciated some discussion of how long paper might need to be exposed for if using objects rather than negatives, and maybe talking about object choice and so on. Since the process lends itself to this very well (and, well, it’s how I’m using it).
I think this is a very good book for those starting out using the process. Don’t know how established photographers would feel about it. ...more
I don't remember how I came across this book - could have been through Gastropod? - but I thought it sounded like just my thing. Time as an ingredientI don't remember how I came across this book - could have been through Gastropod? - but I thought it sounded like just my thing. Time as an ingredient makes a lot of sense, when you consider it! And overall, Linford does look at some interesting points in connecting food with time; I learned a few things and was encouraged in my love of cooking and food.
However, this book turned out to be not quite what I expected. On reflection, I think I was expecting something more like Michael Pollan's Cooked, where he meditates on particular ways in which fire or air or whatever have an impact on cooking and food at length. This is not that. Instead, this is a long series of vignettes. Some of them do go over pages - there's a good few pages on pickles, and on smoking, and the wonders of freezing., among others. But in general each topic within each timeframe (seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years) is relatively short, addressing the connection between the topic and time - the seconds between different stages of caramel, the time it takes to make true traditional Modena balsamic vinegar - and usually not going into the depth that my heart really wanted. (And sometimes the topics chosen in each chapter seem to be tangential to the concept of time as an ingredient, but maybe I missed the point.)
If what you're interested in is a series of short stories about time and cooking, that you can easily dip into and out of, that are sometimes amusing and sometimes poignant and that remind you that cooking and good food are good things, then you will probably enjoy this book. ...more
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