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1637583915
| 9781637583913
| 1637583915
| 3.30
| 252
| unknown
| Sep 12, 2023
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really liked it
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As culturally awash in irreverence and irony as it was clothed in stonewash jeans, what better way to tap into spirit on the 1990s US youth scene than
As culturally awash in irreverence and irony as it was clothed in stonewash jeans, what better way to tap into spirit on the 1990s US youth scene than to harness the profane towards something profound. Alex Kazemi’s sardonically satirical New Millenium Boyz comes violently alive as a 90s period piece—I’m sorry to anyone who may have grimaced thinking of the 90s as long enough ago for such a thing—that drags you through the darkness of the foul-mouthed, cynical toxic masculinity of an era right as the Columbine massacre is sending shockwaves through the country. This book, which has been targeted by book banners, is shocking itself, though the almost suffocating depictions of misogyny, homophobia and crass cruelty never feels played for shock value but rather an damning indictment of how such rampant vulgarity was normalized in many corners of society and only festered in its own filth as the expansion of internet access gave it a wider outlet. Dark and gruesome, New Millennium Boyz won’t be for everyone, nor does it need to be and—truthfully—there were times where the bluntness of its brutality had me questioning if it was even for me but I can’t deny I was strongly impacted by this and that the discomfort is part of the understand. Kazemi successfully captures the dark side of the 90s and pulls off a satirical cultural indictment in a novel that has created a bit of a scandal but ultimately reminds us to reject a toxic masculinity that teaches ‘caring is so embarrassing,’ or a romanticization of apathy and cruelty. Before we go any further, I’d like to thank Permuted Press for providing me with a copy in exchange for a review and also apologize for my absurd tardiness in reviewing the book. I’d like to claim I was just being an unaffected cool 90s kid who didn’t believe in timelines but the truth is I’m trash at actually doing anything I should be reviewing. But I was intrigued when I saw the novel had been blurbed by Bret Easton Ellis as ‘my favorite millennial provocateur.’ This is high praise from someone who has notably feuded with Millennials in the press, such as saying ‘what is millennial culture? … It kind of disturbs me,’ in an interview with The Sunday Times of London in 2019 before stating ‘where is the great millennial novel? There isn’t one.’ It seemed Ellis has now found one he can smile upon, and it is a smart blurb as it may seem lazy to compare this to Ellis’ works like American Psycho—especially for the ever present immersion in pop culture, darkness, and violence in both books—but it’s also an accurate and productive comparison. I’m glad I read this as it isn’t one I’d probably have reached for, but I recall a time as a teen living amongst peers that talked and acted like many of the teens in this book and it would have fit right into the sort of “edgy” media I was consuming then. What Kazemi does best is truly capture the vibes of the 90s, from the turmoil to the feelings of rapid change amidst great prosperity that tried to push aside the lower class while romanticizing being tough, edgy and disaffected. It was a time where the term “alternative” reigned supreme with Alternative music, alternative tv networks like MTV, alternatives to everything as the internet opened up access and going “against the grain” became the cool thing to do. Kazemi spent 10 years working on this novel, largely honing his skills to recreate the speech of teen boys and that comes across quite effectively. And while it is very pop-culture heavy—referencing the current culture was HUGE in the 90s—it isn’t kids saying “eat my shorts!” shouting “booyah” or saying “talk to the hand” but leaning in to the 90s cynicism of being as crass and profane as possible. This is the culture that made Bob Saget famous for saying the filthiest things possible, mind you, and whew the dialogue is indeed foul. You've been warned, but its presented this way for a much greater purpose than mere crassness. I took a college course once on how media and culture reflect each other where I learned how the popular performance art of any era is a gold mine for cultural artifacts and commentary on values of that decade. I recall a lecture on the 90s leaning heavily on how shows like Seinfeld or Friends marked a shift from family-based sitcoms to one of “found family,” or how Seinfeld takes a rather mocking tone towards people outside their group and a lot of jokes barbed against ideas of inauthenticity. But we also have MTV, heavily present in this novel, which glamorized the lifestyles of the rich and famous while also bringing shows like Jackass which popularized pranks and handycam antics. The show featured a lot of fairly mean-spirited humor and people getting hurt for laughs, a social acceptance that Kazemi’s characters are intensely aware of. The character Lu, for instance, is never without his camera always hoping for the moment that will be his big break. It's through these cultural references we get to the heart of the issues. Kazemi spoke on this in an interview with Document Journal recently: ‘ I wanted to mock and satirize, and pop culture became a vehicle to do that. Obviously, I take it to such an absurdist, exhausting degree to depict how brainwashed millennials were by corporate Boomer pop culture.’ In the 90s it was the epitome of cool to be disaffected, ironic, self-referential and cynical with music and movies glamorizing the idea of the “cool loser” (Beck song Loser is very indicative of white culture at the time). Being authentic and “not a poser” or “a sellout” was championed. This image was something corporate marketing teams staffed by Boomers were pushing on teens, capturing the idea that sex and violence sells but then turning around and shaming teens for being too sexualized, too violent, too cynical and “ruining the national morality” sort of thing. It’s like in Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat's Cradle where in order to control people they invent a religion and then ban it in order to ensure everyone will want to practice it in private rebellion. I grew up too late to be amongst these characters, but I recognize in them the culture my friend’s older siblings lived in. ‘We romanticize that era for its simple truths,’ Kazemi says, ‘but there’s so much darkness in it.’ It was a time of great growth but also turmoil, which we can see in hindsight how the unsustainability of the era smashed its face into a brick wall of the new millennium as the dot com and housing bubbles burst and 9/11 changed everything. That spiral towards an inevitable bad end can be felt on every page here though. The story of New Millennium Boyz follows Brad as he realizes the normalcy of suburban life is always teetering on the edge of a cesspit of violence and debauchery. ‘What is the fucking point of being alive if my life doesn’t fit the vision I have of myself in my mind,’ he wonders and sets out to seek a fulfilling life. After a teen-movie-trope summer of camp, finding a sweet girlfriend and losing his virginity suddenly gives way to something more like a punk music video as he befriends Marilyn Manson-worshiping Shane and nihilistic Lu (which is either short for Luke or Lucifer) who will do anything to shock the system. But leading a double life of polite Brad and Badboy Brad becomes to much as the trio descend as far as possible beyond decency in hopes of overnight fame. ‘I’m becoming a prophet, an icon, and I don’t even have to move to Hollywood.’ What occurs is rather alarming and while it has shock value it is using the shock to expose and criticize. ‘I think that it could be interpreted that like, I just wrote a bunch of shock porn,’ Kazemi admits in an interview with Daily Beast, ‘But I think if you zoom out, I’m trying to talk about the escalation of the behavior and a culture that is sort of encouraging their worst impulses.’ If media and culture reflect each other back to each other, what we find here is a feedback loop amplifying itself into an ear piercing pitch of violence and cruelty that became so embedded in toxic masculinity. ‘I think, because a lot of my generation likes to romanticize goth culture—Manson, Nine Inch Nails and stuff—I wanted to expose it for being just another aspect of the ‘bro’ culture. You know, just cause Manson was wearing lipstick and all, it doesn’t change the fact that he was a part of that very male culture.’ You’ll remember exactly why it has become so necessary for a social pushback against misogyny, racism, homophobia and all the various bigotries that casually spew from the mouths of these characters. Not that times are perfect now, but it is unsettling to remember just how accurate the horrible language was even when I was in high school. And just using homophobic slurs so casually as a general insult. I’m also reminded of a song from the 90s from Third Eye Blind (who apparently are still a thing based on my google search just now) called Slow Motion. Deemed too vulgar to make the album—their album Blue contained an instrumental version that I liked to play on guitar with a friend who played the piano parts—the lyric version that appeared online does make me think of this book. The song is a litany of horrors, drugs and violence but ends as so: ’Hollywood glamorized my wrath Much in this way we see how this descent into the worst of human impulses are misguided teens internalizing media in a harmful way. After Columbine, which is present in the novel, everyone was quick to blame video games and music. ‘The Columbine era destroyed my entire career at the time,’ singer Marilyn Manson has said in interviews, his music largely being targeted as a “cause” of the violence. Much debate ensued at the time if media caused violence or exacerbated violent urges in kids and many concerts were cancelled. Mason argued this unfair blame only made it worse for kids who were already bullied for being different. ‘The media has unfairly scapegoated the music industry and so-called Goth kids and has speculated, with no basis in truth, that artists like myself are in some way to blame. This tragedy was a product of ignorance, hatred and an access to guns. I hope the media's irresponsible finger-pointing doesn't create more discrimination against kids who look different.’ Similarly, author Stephen King’s novel Rage, which he wrote in high school about a school shooting, was found to be on the reading list of multiple school shooters and lead him to discontinue publication of the book saying: ‘My book did not break [these teenagers] or turn them into killers; they found something in my book that spoke to them, because they were already broken…Yet I did see ‘Rage’ as a possible accelerant, which is why I pulled it from sale. You don’t leave a can of gasoline where a boy with firebug tendencies can lay hands on it.’ I bring this up because New Millennium Boyz has been found to be rather controversial, landing on book ban lists and being flagged by conservative content review website BookLooks—which is associated with the group the SPLC deemed a “hate group”, Moms For Liberty— as “a 5/5 aberrant content rating” with a 33-page document of pull-quotes as to why (read more on this here). The issue here is that representation is not the same as condoning and as already discussed the troubling aspects of the novel are intended to capture the ideas in order to criticize them, or, as Kazemi said in Interview Magazine, ‘there’s no sense of glamorization about any of it. I’m actually exposing it and reprimanding it.’ Which feels adjacent to the idea that media depicting violence begets violence and poses the question if representation of bigotry in order to push back against bigotry thereby begets bigotry. A rather intense and uncomfortable book but for the sake of using the discomfort to examine a much more uncomfortable and violent cultural issue of the 90s, New Millennium Boyz is certainly a very affecting novel that achieves its goals. Rife with pop-culture references and a selection of songs that would rival any I Love the 90s CD, this plunges the reader through a horrific ride of 90s culture and cynicism where you can practically taste the soda-can bongs stuck with a needle everyone was smoking out of behind the high school. Thank you to Permuted Press for a chance to read and review. ⅘ ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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May 07, 2024
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May 07, 2024
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May 07, 2024
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Hardcover
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1250908264
| 9781250908261
| 1250908264
| 4.39
| 5,808
| Jan 09, 2024
| Jan 09, 2024
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it was amazing
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Valentine's Day had long been the favorite holiday for Valentina. Named after the day and annually visited by an adorable cupid only she can see, Vale
Valentine's Day had long been the favorite holiday for Valentina. Named after the day and annually visited by an adorable cupid only she can see, Valentina spent her childhood bringing love to everyone on Valentine’s Day until one year the day brings nothing but stressful surprises that completely upends her life. Now she has one year to prove she can find true love or she must give her heart away to never feel either the joys or pains of love in a faustian deal not with the devil but the ghost of St. Valentine himself. So begins Lunar New Year Love Story, the sweepingly gorgeous and emotional graphic novel from Gene Luen Yang (of American Born Chinese fame) and brought to life through eye-popping illustrations from LeUyen Pham. This is a beautiful, multi-faceted story that explores much more than romantic love as Valentina confronts family and cultural identity in a story rife with symbolism and dualities. With mesmerizing artwork and a story that is as heartbreaking as it can be heartwarming, Lunar New Year Love Story is an incredible YA coming-of-age graphic novel that will steal your heart (they let me have mine back, don’t worry). [image] I didn’t always hate Valentine’s Day One thing I really appreciate in a good graphic novel is when the story is given the room to breathe. This is on the longer side for a YA but it really lets all the nuances and textures of the story have space to flourish and the slower pace lets each frame squeeze out every drop of emotional intensity. There is a large set-up that completely grabbed me and I enjoyed the way it shows how the things we love in childhood start to fade or become a source of embarrassment in teenage years. The shift from loving Valentine’s Day is really heartbreaking here as it descends into a bleakness about the realization opening oneself to love also means being vulnerable to heartbreak and betrayal, perfectly rendered in the eerie moment when her cute cherubic companion melts into a ghastly ghoul of St. Valentine. There is a really extraordinary blend of various cultural spiritualities and customs here showing the way an immigrant family, for instance, may contain multitudes and Val spends much of the story sifting through the interplay of her Vietnamese heritage and grandmother’s christianity. All of this in an attempt to understand herself through her history and hope to break the family curse of being unlucky in love. [image] Caption: “Our family is unlucky in love” The dualities here are wonderful, such as how Val’s involvement in the Korean Bukcheong lion dance juxtaposes with the story of christian martyrs facing down the lions, the way life is juxtaposed with death, or the way the two potential love interests—cousins Leslie and Jae—are all placed in proximity to examine the idea of yin and yang. [image] There is also a really adorable romance going on amidst all the self-discovery of her culture and (view spoiler)[the surprise that her mother never died but simply left (hide spoiler)]. We see how Les may make her happy but is not a source of stability or loyalty, a rather heartbreaking lesson to learn. And with Jae we see how grief can cast a long shadow over our lives, but that love can be a light in the darkness. It is a moving story full of both sadness and laughs while the deal over her heart is always haunting her every move. [image] ‘Lions roam the world…majesty and misery…there is no hiding. How good it is, then to find someone with whom you can become the lion.’ This was such an extraordinary graphic novel with a really lovely story, a lot of excellent exploration of culture and heritage, and a art style that was an absolute joy to get lost within. The colors are incredible, movement is wonderfully captured and the art beautifully and seamlessly flows between reality and the metaphysical aspects. Lunar New Years Love Story is a massive success. 5/5 [image] ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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not set
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Feb 14, 2024
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Paperback
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0765384469
| 9780765384461
| 0765384469
| 3.85
| 77,038
| Sep 22, 2015
| Sep 22, 2015
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really liked it
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‘I believed I could only be great if I were curious enough to seek greatness.’ I’ve always enjoyed how speculative fiction is a great avenue for socia ‘I believed I could only be great if I were curious enough to seek greatness.’ I’ve always enjoyed how speculative fiction is a great avenue for social commentary on current issues while providing a futuristic landscape to make these concepts more malleable and chart new directions with them. Binti, the afrofuturist novella from Nnedi Okorafor and first in a series of stories about the narrator, is a thrilling tale of culture and conflict when an interplanetary voyage is violently hijacked en route to a university. Binti Ekeopara Zuzu Dambu Kaipka of Namib is the first of her people to ever be invited to attend the Oomza Uni and sets off into a wider universe where xenophobia is widely prevalent, only to have to negotiate a powder keg of long standing interspecies conflict in order to survive and ‘prevent a bloodbath in which everyone would lose.’ Okorafor expertise in world building creates a future so marvelously expansive for such a short book as Binti interrogates concepts of identity and ethics in cultural contexts where Binti is caught between holding onto tradition and adapting to a larger world around her. ‘My people are sons and daughters of the soil.’ Okorafor’s dynamic use of cultural touchstones amongst the various characters becomes the stage for which the themes play out in Binti. The narrator is from the Himba people, a real ethnic group indigenous to Namibia in Southern Africa. In Binti, the Himba are adept at electronic technology, with her father being a successful maker of ‘Astrolabs’ (a communication device that stores the whole of a person’s life) and Binti being a ‘master harmonizer’ able to create electric currents with her body.They are tight-knit, wary of outsiders, and while Binti’s acceptance to the university is a major accomplishment, it is upsetting to her community. ‘My tribe is obsessed with innovation and technology, but it is small, private, and, as I said, we don’t like to leave Earth. We prefer to explore the universe by traveling inward, as opposed to outward. No Himba has ever gone to Oomza Uni. So me being the only one on the ship was not that surprising. However, just because something isn’t surprising doesn’t mean it’s easy to deal with.’ The Himba are generally looked down upon by the Khoush, the lighter-skinned humans who are city and space dwellers and the race that runs and attends Oomza Uni. Binti tells us they have a feeling of superiority to other races and while Binti experiences racism, it is different than the aggresiveness the Khoush feel for the Meduse, the jellyfish-like species with which the Khoush have a long-standing disdain. The nuance is best expressed in the way they treat Binti and Okwu, the Meduse she tepidly befriends amidst the tense standoff central to the story: ‘where they saw me as a fascinating exotic human, they saw Okwu as a dangerous threat.’ ‘They say that when faced with a fight you cannot win, you can never predict what you will do next.’ There is a great depth of world building in Binti and with only minimal explanation, Okorafor is able to probe vast implications as to the nuances of interspecies relations. In a book that focues largely on ideas of tradition, we see how hatred can become a sort of traditions itself, such as the way ‘the Khoush expected everyone to remember their greatest enemy and injustice. They even worked Meduse anatomy and rudimentary technology into mathematics and science classes.’ Generations of groomed disdain often has violent consequences when assumptions bypass true understanding of unfamiliar people and cultures. The Meduse, in turn, operate on assumptions such as ‘humans only understand violence,’ making Binti’s need to negotiate survival all the more difficult and fraught with misunderstanding. ‘The Meduse are not what we humans think. They are truth. They are clarity. They are decisive. There are sharp lines and edges. They understand honor and dishonor. I had to earn their honor…’ Adapting is a crucial element to survival, and one Binti must utilize in order be the great harmonizer she is destined to be. We see a contrast in her relations with others and how it relates to aspects of culture, such as friends from her own culture (one in which members don’t really associate beyond work with outsiders) who do not value her aims of mathematical scholarship and then her friends on the ship that value her for her academics but are removed from her culture. It is a reminder that while our culture and traditions are valuable parts of our identity, it is not all we are. Later, Okwu and Binti, about as at odds with each other as they can get, begin to value each other through a mutual respect and open curiosity for one another’s cultures. Using the edan, a mysterious object she discovered long ago that activates and protects her from the Meduse while also giving them the ability to speak to each other despite not knowing one another’s language (it is sort of a Pentecost moment here), they begin to relate through similar aspects of individual identity, valuing the determination and convictions the other holds. Binti, in this way, becomes a parable on seeking to understand in order to overcome prejudice. ‘My hair was braided into the history of my people.’ There is a beautiful moment when, through their ability to communicate, they discover that the Meduse word for their speared tentacles that are critical to their cultural identity and Binti’s word for her hair braids translate into the same word: Okuoko. It becomes a touchpoint of similarity despite being two different things, though both essential elements of their cultural identity. For Binti, her braids are woven in a way that ‘tell the story’ of her family and legacy. The tentacles are part of the Meduse’s self-defense, and the story revolves around the Meduse attempting to break into the Uni in order to recover the tentacle spear the Khoush took from the Meduse chief for the purpose of study and have displayed in the Uni’s museum. At the end, Binti’s braids are replaced with Meduse okuoko and is symbolic of her identity adapting from an isolated set of traditions into a more collective identity in a larger world. This is similar with the Otjize, the mixture of red clay the Himba wear on their skin as part of their cultural identity and religious practice. Along the way, Binti and Okwu discover the clay works as a miraculous healing balm on Meduse skin and, later, Binti discovers she can recreate the mixture with clay found on her new home planet at the Uni. It becomes a more nuanced symbol of the benefits from sharing culture with others as well as a reminder that traditions can adapt to incorporate new landscapes and new lives outside the traditional cultural homeland. An element of traditions adapting after diaspora is evident here. ‘“When you do math fractals long enough, you kick yourself into treeing just enough to get lost in the shallows of the mathematical sea.’ The story certainly probes ideas of ethics, such as the previously mentioned spear kept in the Uni museum. The story feels like an allegory of colonialism in a way, touching on how, throughout history, cultural artifacts have been taken from other cultures to collect in, say, the British Museum. There is also the gatekeeping of academics, with Khoush traditionally being the only ones invited to study at the Uni. In Binti, we see science and mathematics being a way for cultures to interact through the shared knowledge, such as it being an equalizer for Binti and the Khoush friends she makes in the early stage of the voyage, but also a warning to the violence when academics is undertaken without ethics. At novellas end, however, we see a renewed commitment towards inclusion in the Uni and hope for a brighter, shared future. It could come across as a bit simplistic and naive, especially how quickly the shift occurs, but I do enjoy the hope inherent here. I quite enjoyed Binti, a quick tale about culture and forging connections across divides and hope to continue reading the series. I mean, I need to know what the edan is, and I enjoy how weird tech artifacts always figure into Okorafor’s afrofuturism stories. I also enjoy how much her stories employ actual African culture and deal with issues of Western society and colonialism in friction with culture. This is a fun one with a lot of excellent world building that seems shockingly vast considering the small scope of the novella. And just cool sci-fi stuff, like the ship they travel in is actually a living creature refurbished for ferrying people around the stars. I also enjoy the hope in a shared, ethical future where we can learn to stop war and overcome prejudice. Cheers to that. 3.5/5 ...more |
Notes are private!
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Feb 09, 2023
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Feb 09, 2023
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Feb 09, 2023
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ebook
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0593230965
| 9780593230961
| 0593230965
| 4.14
| 5,245
| Jul 13, 2021
| Jul 13, 2021
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really liked it
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‘Did I ever get to know who he was becoming?’ Family is a difficult knot of people and emotions to untangle and comprehend, even more so when cultural ‘Did I ever get to know who he was becoming?’ Family is a difficult knot of people and emotions to untangle and comprehend, even more so when cultural differences enter the mix. Ghost Forest, the debut novel by Pik-Shuen Fung, seems gossamer thin told through sparse vignettes of the narrator and her families lives. The overall patchwork of stories, however, forms a rather gorgeous portrait of a Chinese ‘astronaut family’— a term invented by the Hong Kong mass media. A family with an astronaut father—flying here, flying there.’—as they attempt to process traumas, distance, cultural hurdles and other hardships. I learned a lot of cultural aspects and found much of the difficult dynamic between the sisters raised in Canada and their Chinese parents to be quite interesting. Central to the book is the strained relationship between the narrator and her father, one they both attempt to reconcile when it is nearly too late as the father is dying in the hospital. This quiet novel examines grief and the difficulties in processing it within a family that keeps their feelings hidden beneath the surface, being a rather gorgeous novel with a touching sentimentality though is perhaps a bit too weightless to ever fully land a lasting emotional impact on the reader. ‘With a single line, you can paint the ocean.’ During college, the narrator studies the traditional Chinese style of xieyi painting, a sparse style that Pik-Sheun marvelously recreates in her prose in the novel. ‘They left large areas of the paper blank because they felt empty space was as important as form, that absence was as important as presence. So what did they seek to capture instead? The artist’s spirit.’ There is much attention to the white space on the page, keeping paragraphs short and spaced apart as well as only depicting fragments of life to capture their singular beauty. There is a weightless quality that is breathtaking, though occasionally it feels like the emotions slip away too fast as the sparse nature novel leads you to cover a lot of territory rather quickly. The cultural rifts between the narrator and her father were quite interesting to learn about. The father worries the daughter is too Western in her actions and emotions, particularly when the narrator decides to tell her father she loves him. He, and her mother, are both taken aback and made uncomfortable by overt displays of emotions, which is a recurring theme about the difficulty in processing grief when nobody talks about it. When asking the older generation about traumas and why they never dealt with them the answer is always ‘we didn’t have time to think about those things back then.’ Generational differences towards mental health and emotional expression are very much an interesting aspect of the novel and she conveys familial complexity with the most delicate of touches. Pik-Sheun does an excellent job of showing other ways cultural rifts occur between first-generation immigrants and their families back home, but also takes a look at how difficult immigration is on young children. ‘When I was in preschool in Hong Kong, I always got in trouble for being too loud,’ she tells us, ‘all I remember is that, after moving to Canada, every report card said I was too quiet.’ So much of this story is heartbreaking, but it is so very human and love fills the cracks. ‘Sometimes I think about what I would do if my dad were alive today.’ Ultimately, this is a novel about living life and loving while you have the time. We watch a daughter realize it is too late to truly connect with her father, but their attempts at being at peace during the final days are truly moving as they watch how it changes each other. ’I learned that it is important to be true to yourself. Many people do whatever society tells them to do. They’ve lost themselves. I grew up with Confucian values, and they are limiting. I focused only on work and making a living. But I’m old now. Remember not to lose who you are.’ Being true to who you are also turns into being true to who your family is in the novel. After her father’s death, she questions her living relatives about their lives to try and better know and understand them. These first person accounts of their lives through war, marriage, childbirth and more are scattered throughout the novel, making this a family story more than simply a story of the narrator’s life. This is a quick and sparse read, but it is highly beautiful nonetheless. The examinations of cultural and generational divides are rather enlightening as it probes at the ways families can feel pushed apart from each other simply through their separate social norms. This seems to be a work of autofiction and I'd be curious as to how much is autobiographical and how much is fiction, particualrly with the tenderness and relatablility in which she details grief. This is a moving portrait of a family processing grief and a call to give love and live for yourself because life is fleeting. A promising debut. 3.5/5 ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Jul 13, 2021
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Jul 27, 2021
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May 06, 2021
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Hardcover
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014303653X
| 9780143036531
| 014303653X
| 4.16
| 34,069
| Nov 25, 1985
| Dec 27, 2005
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liked it
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*A brief ‘update’ of sorts or rather some thoughts that I think might relate* I recently had a discussion about dreams and how when I was younger we we *A brief ‘update’ of sorts or rather some thoughts that I think might relate* I recently had a discussion about dreams and how when I was younger we were taught people do not dream in color, which was something both of us felt wasn’t true of our own. So I read up more on it and discovered those studies had come after the advent of television but before color tv was common, yet, as you can read about in this study, after the 1960s people ‘color was found to be present in 82.7% of the dreams.’ In 2003, a study reported ‘ early descriptions of dreams and treatises on the nature of dreaming suggest that colour was commonly present in dreams before the 20th century.’ So what has been theorized here (the article goes on to examine the difficulty in certainty) is that black and white media modified how we experience or how we perceive to experience dreaming. Movies and tv tend to play on our emotions in a more intense and prolonged way than other visual media so it would make it reshapes our dreams. So what am I rambling about here? This got me thinking about Postman and all the ideas on visual media and society reflecting each other back and forth and how one might update these studies in 2023, particularly with ideas of literature. David Foster Wallace (who would have loved that dream article) spent a lot of headspace on this sort of thing, with Infinite Jest in particular embodying a lot of the theories. So anyways, hear me out. When I was younger and exploring tv shows it was usually through reruns that I would see completely out of order. People around this time experienced narratives often having to pick up context clues as to the relationships between characters, usually not knowing the full backstory to certain things, and recieving stories pretty interchangeably. There wasn’t much context outside episodes. To be fair, shows then were a lot more episodic than the more frequent one-continuous-narrative of shows today and you could miss episodes and not be left out (I remember LOST and 24 being some of the first big ones where it was ESSENTIAL to not miss, and Battlestar Galactica to some extent). But I’m curious if this is what lead to the way to this day I still don’t mind seeing a show in sort of a jumble because I’m so used to that and not needing much context to enjoy, and I also enjoy books that way. I also completely understand why it is frustrating to some but things like characters lacking names or places not being identified, scenes not being in order, lack of quotation marks, etc. are often things I don’t even notice in books and I wonder how much that relates to the ways we’ve taught ourselves to consume media? Maybe this is highly individual but I’m curious how it works for others and I wonder if there has been anyone looking at the way we receive media series and how that shapes the literary culture. Do readers often want more context? Are books more often linear? We now can start a show right at the beginning and binge through it whereas when I was younger it was common for there to be years before I ever saw the first episode of a show I loved. I have no answers, just curious if anyone has noticed any trends and how it might relate to social media and tv consumption. I have seen rumblings of twitter from authors on how publishers through the years want authors that come with a social media following and, more recently, looking for books that have higher ability for content creation on tiktok, so in that way I think things have been reshaped. And its all for better or for worse, and change is natural, so I’m writing this less as judgment but more just curious to follow if we can detect or study how it works. If anyone has any insights I’d love to discuss. Anyways heres my original review from years ago: ----- ‘What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one.' The modern era is an age of endless information and entertainment. Media looks to the public for what they want, and then sells it back to them wrapped up in the most irresistible packaging they can create, and we eat it up. However, if entertainment is what we desire most, and if everything we receive must compete for our attention, what happens to the so called serious information we need? Does religion, education, politics, and any other form of society get turned into entertainment as well? Like the deadly cartridge in Infinite Jest, are we letting ourselves be destroyed by what entertains us, what gives us pleasure? Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death takes a look at our infatuation with television and technology and examines how the changes in the ways we receive our information affects our public discourse and society. ‘Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us,’ Postman writes, ‘Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us. This book is about the possibility that Huxley was right.’ Through an analyzation of historic American society juxtaposed with modern examples of politics, education, religion and general society, Postman examines alterations in American culture through our shift from print based media to visual based media. ’It is my intention to show that a great media-metaphor shift has taken place in America, with the result that the content of much of our public discourse has become dangerous nonsense….[W]e do not measure a culture by its output of undisguised trivialities but by what it claims as significant. Therein is our problem, for television is at its most trivial and, therefore, most dangerous when its aspirations are high, when it presents itself as a carrier of important cultural conversations.’Postman alters Canadian media philosopher Marshall McLuhan’s aphorism ‘The media is the message’ to his often repeated ‘the media is the metaphor’ idea, simply meaning that the media offers us a metaphor of our own reality and that everything we see through it pulls with it a large array of implied context and framing of information that is controlled by those who deliver it. Everything we view has been spun, even if unintentionally, to reflect some believed context of our culture. Postman argues that ‘in every tool we create, an idea is embedded that goes beyond the function of the thing itself,’ and the unspoken content of media is captured in our minds and grows into our culture through our actions. It has resonance in our culture. ‘Definitions of truth are derived, at least in part, from the character of the media of communication through which information is conveyed.’ For example, we see a character on television that we like and we try and be like that character in our own lives ¹. All news information is somehow framed in a certain light, as is anything we receive through television and broadcast companies. ‘The weight assigned to any form of truth-telling is a function of the influence of media of communication.’ Postman compares the modern era with the times when all information was print based. ‘To exist was to exist in print.’ This section was extremely interesting, especially for any lover of books and the written word, as it emphasizes the power of print in an era where the author and the philosopher were rock stars. Postman, relying heavily on Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, shows staggering statistics of literacy rates (‘between 1640 and 1700, the literacy rate for males in Massachusetts and Connecticut was somewhere between 89 percent and 95 percent, quite possible the highest concentration of literate males to be found anywhere in the world at that time’), emphasis on the importance of education, and a look at how heady works such as Paine’s Common Sense were top sellers and widely read (‘Common Sense sold more than 100,000 copies by March of the same year. In 1985, a book would have to sell eight million copies [in two months] to match the proportion of the population Paine’s book attracted’). He shows how people would sit through eight hour political debates and how the language in political discussions was written at a much higher education level than those of today yet still understood by most literate Americans. In short, Postman attempts to show that the average person in the 1700’s had a better grasp of language and utilized it for more sophisticated purposes than people of today. Through his idea that a change in media creates a change in culture, Postman tackles several different subjects through the course of the second half of his book. Politics, religion and education are shown as having succumbed to the temptation of being made into entertainment. Postman argues that visual media makes the image more important to its receiver than the actual message, and that television is a passive activity instead of an activity like reading that requires some work and thought by the reader. His look at politics argues that a print-based mind, when asked to think about a politician, would focus on his words and political beliefs/platform, whereas a visual-media mind would focus on the person’s appearance and charisma. He supports this with a reflection on the Nixon/Kennedy debates where those who listened to the debate on the radio fingered Nixon as the clear winner, but television viewers placed Kennedy as the clear winner. Kennedy was young, handsome and charismatic while Nixon’s image, having been recovering for an illness and opposed to the idea of wearing any make-up, made him seem haggard and unfriendly. ‘As Xenophanes remarked twenty-five centuries ago, men always make their gods in their own image. But to this, television politics has added a new wrinkle: Those who would be gods refashion themselves into images the viewers would have them be.’ For religion, Postman argues that televised evangelicals bastardize religious beliefs: they remove all the spiritual transcendence, theology and ritual and place the preacher as the focus. ‘God comes out as second banana.’ As I have just completed an extensive presentation and essay on this chapter, I will spare you most of the details, but it highlights that religion of television is more aimed at the wallet than the soul, more focused on celebrity status of preachers and guests than holiness, and gives people what they want instead of what religion is about: what people need. Essentially, Postman argues that television gives messages that are trivial, and these shows get high ratings. ‘Or rather, because their messages are trivial, the shows have high ratings.’ Even shows bent on education ultimately teach children that they love television, not that they love learning (most want to cuddle Elmo, not letters and numbers), as well as offer a flawed attempt at education (focusing on reading as sounding out letters instead of reading being the understanding of words and their order to form a sentence that purveys a message). What makes shows work is the ‘stickiness factor’ (this is more from another book we are discussing for this class, Gladwell’s The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference), focusing on the characters, music and sounds that catch attention and make us remember. Postman also shows how news broadcasts, in order to compete, must offer a level of entertainment and become nothing beyond flashy visuals, effects, sounds, music and beautiful talking mouths that spin us a story. Postman shows how televised media creates what he calls the ‘peek-a-boo world’. ’A world where now this event, now that, pops into view for a moment, then vanishes again. It is a world without much coherence or sense; a world that does not ask us, indeed, does not permit us to do anything; a world that is, like the child’s game of peek-a-boo, entirely self-contained…also endlessly entertaining.’We are bombarded by information at all times in a three prong attack on the epistemology of our time: Irrelevance, impotence, and incoherence. Information may be cathartic, but usually most of what we hear doesn’t really relate to our personal lives other than something to talk about, we can’t do much of anything about the information, and has no context to our lives. To further discussion on context, Postman cites Susan Sontag’s work On Photography, where she writes ‘the point of photography is to isolate the image from context, so as to make them visible in a different way… all borders seem arbitrary. Anything can be separated…all that is nessesary is to fram the subject differently.’ Television, as discussed earlier, frames everything in some manner and gives us only a pseudo-context, or a doctored context to make us think a certain way. Television focuses us on the image more so than the information. This book, read for class, is an interesting investigation into our obsession with entertainment and the effects of television in our world. While it was written in 1985, Postman’s message is still poignant today. It must be taken with a grain of salt, however, and while it is well written, Postman’s insistence on ‘this is what I want to say/not say’ is a bit unnecessary and seems as if he is unsure of the reader’s ability to follow along. Also, he does occasionally imply causation when what really exists is correlation, but, if anything has been learned through this book, the reader already recognizes that any information received has been fixed towards reinforcing the message desired by the deliverer. Some of the material is rather outdated however, and it should be noted that this reflects Postman's 1985 and our modern day is a bit different, better in some ways and worse in others. I wish Postman would have gone more into society outside of television as well and how that has changed, such as how products like even books and music are geared more towards the easy message and pure entertainment as opposed to higher artistic standards. There could have been a great chapter examining how this stems from television, or perhaps this is all stemming from a human desire to do what is quick, easy and painless, and Postman's television arguments are actually an extension of that. Who knows. There's a book for someone to write in there somewhere. All that said, Amusing Ourselves to Death is a very thought provoking book that will make the reader hyper-aware of television and its effects in their lives. This is a must for any fans of David Foster Wallace as well. The book is best served alongside other media/culture criticisms, especially Gladwell’s Tipping Point, and having studied it for a course made it all the more interesting. ‘For in the end, [Huxley] was trying to tell us that what afflicted the people in Brave New World was not that they were laughing instead of thinking, but that they did not know what they were laughing about and why they had stopped thinking.’ 3.5/5 ¹ In the class for which this book was assigned, we discussed how shows like Friends and Seinfeld were different from most previous shows as they focused on a circle of friends instead of a family, and instead of family morals much of the plot focuses on the characters moving through sexual partners, which would then imply to impressionable viewers that this is the type of behavior that makes one ‘cool’ like a person on tv. This is a terribly juvenile and seemingly old-person ornery and prude example, now that I see it written down, but you get the general idea. For a more interesting example of, think of how that classic Claymation Santa Claus is Coming to Town hides pro-hippy (it was 1970), anti-establishment (and potentially pro communist?) sentiments in a children’s film. [image] 'Television, in other words, is transforming our culture into one vast arena for show business.' There is an excellent interview with Postman discussing the ideas in this book here Or, a wonderful PBS documentary we watched in class highlighting Postman’s ideas: Literacy Lost ...more |
Notes are private!
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not set
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Mar 19, 2013
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