skygiants

Several months ago, right before RaceFail v.1.1 (though it's not really 1.1, of course, it never is) broke out, I checked Elizabeth Bear's Whiskey and Water out of the library to read.

A week or two later, Elizabeth Bear and a great many other people said things publicly that ranged from 'just oblivious' to 'incredibly hurtful and damaging', the internet erupted, and the book sat on my shelf while I absently hit 'renew' on the library website. I really hate returning books to the library unread, for the same reason I hate not finishing books, even really terrible ones - it kicks my Readerly Pride, and feels like admitting defeat. At the same time -

- well, okay, here's the thing. I don't actually feel much of an emotional difficulty in reading books by authors who exhibit awful behavior as people. This is not to say that I would not be devastated if someone told me that Diana Wynne Jones wakes up every morning and hunts down puppies to kick (please, nobody tell me this!), but - I don't know, there is a level on which I kind of expect authors to be jerks. For this, I suspect I have my mother to thank. My mother loves posing her children with ethical dilemmas - seriously, it is one of her main forms of entertainment - so one day when I was around ten or eleven she decided to tell me all about Roald Dahl's anti-Semitism and other unpleasant behaviors and poke at the Is It Okay To Read The Works Of Awful And Prejudiced People question for the next hour or so. My answer, as far as I can remember, has always been 'yes', and this is only partly because unfortunately, once you take away the awful people, there are not all that many great authors left. Roald Dahl was a pretty blatant anti-Semite, but that doesn't mean Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a bad book. T.S. Eliot was the protegee of Ezra Pound, who literally hung out with Nazis (did I just Godwin's Law myself? I am sorry, it is historical fact!) but The Hollow Men is still an amazing poem. For me - I am not saying this for anyone else, because everyone absolutely has the right to be outraged and hurt enough by author conduct not to read their books, and I know my own privilege in having the option not to be - I don't want to stop reading their books because I know these things. I want to read their books, knowing these things, and be more aware of the subtext of what I've been missing before, and learn from the good and the bad. I don't think there's a book that doesn't have something to teach you, as long as you read it thinking.

(ETA: bravecows rightly points out that it looks a bit as if I am lauding myself here for Knowing How To Rise Above It All, and by implication putting down the people who do intend to make this a reason not to read the books of authors whose words and actions have been hurtful. I really don't want to do that, and I very much apologize if it comes off that way.)

But there is definitely a difference between dead authors who no longer have the capability to learn from their mistakes, and living ones who are still in the process of making them. There is a definite problem with financially endorsing the problematic authors, rather than the ones who far too often get crowded out from the shelves, as nextian recently pointed out (I am sure she has not been the only one to do so, but it was a good post on my flist, so I link it). I am a cheapskate and get the vast majority of my books out of the library, so for me it is not so much the question of financial endorsement, but the thing is - I write about books in a public space. And while it is a very small-scale public space, and I am not self-important enough to think that what I post about matters to more than a handful of people, there is still a very weird feeling that what I read is not just for me anymore. It's a public statement, and one that could be read as approval of things I very much don't wish to approve.

I could have read Whiskey and Water and just not mentioned it - no one was stopping me - but that feels very much like cheating. Eventually I did decide to read it, and to post on it, and to make sure as I did both to keep a sharp eye out for all the issues that were brought up, that I didn't notice in reading the first book of the duology, that I want to make sure I notice now. And I'll be honest and say that part of the reason I'm doing it now is because of recent events, and because I do plan to continue the Vorkosigan reread I just started on, and I'd rather put this whole screed before an Elizabeth Bear book than a Bujold book, because I like her work quite a bit more and consider her offenses to be significantly less. But I just want to say one thing before I actually launch into talking about the book, and that is this - as I said, I get almost all my books out of the library. And I don't think I should feel guilty for checking any book, no matter who the author is, out of the library - or for enjoying it either. But I do want to make sure I know who my money is supporting, and going forward, I am going to try to make sure that instead of checking everything out of the library, or buying super-cheap through discount sellers on amazon, I actually put my money where my mouth is when it comes to the books and the authors I actually want to support first-hand and encourage publishers to keep printing and bookstores to start stocking. The ones who aren't on the shelves, and deserve to be.

( OKAY and now after monologuing extensively I am actually going to talk about the book. )

Good lord, this is a massive post. I'm sorry, guys. Obviously, anyone is free to comment and tell me if I've said something idiotic, as I know it is very likely I have.

I probably should have read Beverly Daniel Tatum's "Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?": A Psychologist Explains the Development of Racial Identity a while ago. On the other hand, I'm kind of glad that I've read it at this stage in my thought processes, when I have become aware of most of the basic Antiracism 101 concepts set forth in the book through discussions on LJ and other places, and started trying (with I don't know how much success so far, but) to become more actively antiracist - it's allowed me to read the book at a more thoughtful level, I think, instead of diving in, getting walloped over the head with a ton of new concepts, and floundering in Stage One White Person Guilt. Of course, as far as that stage goes, this book is probably one of the better ways to go through it. I think one of the most successful things about it is that it is not an exclusive text. In its discussions it tries to find some place for all potential readers to see themselves and further their thought process and sense of self, and points out how important this is for everyone.

You know, it's kind of ironic, actually - Not Talking About Race is so ingrained in me still that even writing up this book makes me feel nervous in case I Say Something Dumb. A booklog, for goodness' sakes. I say this because I think that really just goes to show how much this book and others like it that encourage actually talking about race are needed.