Category Archives: Uncategorized

Mourning Gaza During the High Holy Days

My Jewish cultural heritage remains important to me despite not practicing the religion. Simple at-home rituals, like eating apples and honey with my mom-of-choice last night for Rosh Hashanah, add a sacred continuity to the life of our multi-faith household. After Hamas’ murderous attack and kidnapping of hostages on October 7, and the Israeli government’s violently disproportionate response that continues to kill thousands of Palestinian civilians with US-funded weapons, I’ve also felt responsible to reclaim Jewishness as a political identity. In an ideal world, I shouldn’t need an identity card to legitimize opposing the genocide in Gaza. But if being tangentially in the lineage of Holocaust survivors makes my protest more likely to be heard, I’m going to mention it in every email to Congress and the White House.

The High Holidays, which began last night (Oct. 2) with the Jewish New Year on the new moon, and conclude with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, on the evening of Oct. 11, are a time for moral self-inventory and repentance. Tradition has it that this is when God decides whom to re-inscribe in the Book of Life for another year. I guess he knocked over his ink bottle in Israel-Palestine in 2023. Latest reports suggest that 64 hostages remain alive, out of the 251 taken by Hamas; the rest were either killed by their captors or by Israel’s own military actions. Meanwhile, Palestinian health authorities estimate that Israel’s war on Gaza has killed over 41,000 Palestinians since last October, the majority of them women and children.

I feel less safe as a person of Jewish origins in America since Israel started this war of “self-defense”. Rather than loosen their grip on Zionism, mainstream Jewish institutions are being seduced into alliance with the American Right, whose political candidates and pundits include actual Nazis. My local food co-op is debating whether to boycott Israeli hummus, which sounds to me like a Portlandia sketch.

In my opinion, a Jewish state should mean a place where it’s safe to be Jewish, not where it’s unsafe to be anything else. Making Palestinians live under apartheid is not congruent with the Jewish values of justice and mercy.

Here are some links that I found valuable for this period of mourning, reflection, and action.

At Vox Populi, an online journal of writing about social justice, Richard Hoffman has a new poem called “Mourning Gaza”, which begins:

And yet we think we can go on,
our earlier weeping this morning need not
bleed all over the day with its innocent and growing
receptivity to sunshine.

What does the naked soldier take off when he puts on that uniform?

What does the pale infant turning to dust
in the gray light deep in the powdery rubble know
of the torn hands of her parents digging to find her?

Nothing. Nothing is the answer.

And when the soldier takes off his uniform what does he find?

Nothing. Nothing is the answer. And it is the same nothing.

And what is it we put on when we dress for the day?

And how do we know
our tears will still be there when we come back for them?
What if they aren’t? What will wait for us instead?…

Alex Skopic, writing for Current Affairs, explains why we should all be concerned about Israel turning pagers into bombs in Syria and Lebanon:

Needless to say, Hezbollah has been linked to various acts of terrorism (successful or attempted) itself over the years. But even defending oneself against terrorists, as Israeli leaders would doubtless characterize their actions, cannot justify using terrorist tactics in return. (Perhaps Benjamin Netanyahu and Co. skipped “two wrongs don’t make a right” day in kindergarten. It would explain a lot.) Importantly, the New York Times notes that “the explosions had little strategic purpose,” as Israel is “hardly about to force Hezbollah’s leaders to give up a cause they have battled over for four decades” simply by blowing up pagers and walkie-talkies belonging to its rank-and-file members. Instead, writer David E. Sanger says that “the chief effect is psychological,” as this kind of attack “makes everyone fearful that ordinary devices can become an instant source of injury or death. It gnaws at the psyche.” In other words, it creates terror. It is terroristic in nature. Sangerdoesn’t call it that, opting for the word “sabotage” instead, but he does mention that “there is nothing new about sabotaging phones or planting bombs: Terrorists and spy agencies have done that for decades,” tacitly admitting that Israel’s actions are no different from those of prior “terrorists.”…

In fact, there are multiple international laws that specifically forbid what Israel has done. As Nikki McCann Ramirez points out for Rolling Stone, the Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons (not the catchiest name) bans “booby-traps or other devices in the form of apparently harmless portable objects which are specifically designed and constructed to contain explosive material.” That language is completely unambiguous. Pagers and walkie-talkies would both qualify as “apparently harmless portable objects,” and Israel is a party to the Convention. Likewise, Rule 80 of customary international humanitarian law, as recorded by the Red Cross, forbids “booby-traps associated with objects in normal civilian daily use” or “objects that are likely to attract civilians.”

In the wake of last spring’s campus protests, universities have largely responded by cracking down on students’ political expression, sometimes with life-altering consequences. “A Cornell Graduate Student Faces Deportation After Pro-Palestine Action,” Aaron Fernando at The Nation reported on Sept. 25.

Momodou Taal is a PhD candidate in Africana studies and a graduate student worker, attending Cornell under the F-1 visa program. In the last academic year, Taal joined student-led actions demanding that Cornell divest from industries complicit in Israel’s attacks on civilians in Gaza…

…On September 18, a group of students from multiple Cornell student groups under the umbrella organization Coalition for Mutual Liberation disrupted a career fair that was taking place at The Statler Hotel, which is located on campus grounds. The students disrupted this event because Boeing and L3Harris had tables at the fair—companies which, according to the students, are connected to the flow of military supplies being used by Israel to commit atrocities against civilians.

The university says that protesters forcibly entered the job fair by pushing campus police officers. Taal, who is a British national, was present at this action. When asked if the university had accused him of pushing police officers, Taal responded, “Yes, which is not true. I can say categorically that I shoved no police officer, nor did I not listen to a lawful directive, like they’re claiming.”

“They’ve identified who they think are leaders [of the pro-Palestine movement on campus], and therefore [they] are trying to make an example out of me.”

Now, Taal may need to leave the country because of his presence at the protest.

The F-1 visa program allows foreign nationals to reside in the United States if they are enrolled in an academic educational program, a language-training program, or a vocational program. Those with F-1 visas can also work on campus and in limited off-campus training positions. According to the Department of Homeland Security, suspension from an academic program is a valid reason for the termination of a record, which changes the immigration status of someone holding a F-1 visa…

…Jawuanna McAllister, of CGSU-UE’s bargaining committee…was unequivocal about the university’s singling out Taal, who appears to be the only student, among the more than 100 protesters at the September 18 action, to face suspension. “The university’s targeting of Taal, a Black, Muslim, international grad worker, is a calculated and shameful attempt to intimidate workers who are protesting the atrocities in Gaza and stifle free expression on campus,” said McAllister.

Rabbi Shaul Magid teaches Modern Judaism at Harvard University and is the author of The Necessity of Exile: Essays from a Distance (2023), a book on reconsidering Zionism. In this essay for Religion Dispatches, “Is ‘Western Self-Hatred’ the Problem in the Gaza War Protest Movement?”, Magid disputes the Orientalist lens through which Israel’s supporters view the pro-Palestine Left.

This isn’t to say that antisemitism plays no role today in the campus protest movement. It certainly does. The question is: what role? Antisemitism often latches onto different elements of the Left’s anti-Westernism—in this case the war on Gaza. This isn’t especially new. And while the Left has traditionally opposed antisemitism (one reason so many Jews in Eastern Europe and America were attracted to socialism in the early 20th century), it certainly also rears its head in Leftist circles. Everyone from Max Horkheimer to Hannah Arendt to Jurgen Habermas claim in different ways that it was the Enlightenment that gave us modern antisemitism.

In this case, however, the “eternal antisemitism” argument, and the argument that anti-Israelism is anti-Westernism, are self-serving and to my mind unsustainable. Let’s not forget, women and children are dying, innocent people are starving, and children are drinking from puddles because (in “self-defense”?) the IDF bombed water purification plants. Gaza has been obliterated, the devastation arguably one of the worst since World War II. Those are incontestable facts, reported by reputable news and relief agencies. What’s happening in Gaza may or may not in the end be understood as genocide (I do not think it is), but it’s clearly sociocide, the intentional destruction of a society including infrastructure (schools, hospitals, universities), resources (water, electricity), and services (garbage collection etc.). To claim that protests against decimation like this are primarily about “anti-Westernism” and not starving children is as I see it no better than blaming eternal antisemitism…

…Not surprisingly, Palestine solidarity was at the very center of this spring’s graduation ceremony at Harvard Divinity School (where I teach). There were calls for Harvard to divest from military arms, mixed with calls for a “free Palestine” (though I heard no chants of “from the river to the sea” and there was no mention of Hamas). Keffiyehs were ubiquitous. And yet a student who’s suing the university for antisemitism and an outspoken critic of the campus protests was duly applauded by his classmates as he rose to receive his diploma.

So what was really happening at the graduation? I submit, this wasn’t only about Israel/Palestine, or the war—though it was certainly also about that. This was about what one graduate called a referendum to end “carceral states.” Claiming Gaza is a “carceral state” may not be quite right, but it’s also not unreasonable. The term usually refers to the expanded and unequal criminal system in the US functioning through the dehumanization of people of color. To many, the people of Gaza and the West Bank have come to represent “carceral states” globally. And if Israel weren’t the ruling power embodying that “carceral state” I think many of the same Jews who today deplore the protesters would be with them. Think of significant Jewish opposition to China’s treatment of the Uyghurs or Jewish support for civil rights and the boycott of apartheid South Africa in the 1980s.

So, yes, the Palestinian Solidarity Movement is the latest symbol of the Left’s ongoing critique of the West, in the tradition of its support for abolition, women’s suffrage, civil rights, an end to the fighting in Vietnam, the dismantling of Apartheid, and BLM. It’s not a movement principally in support of Hamas or of October 7.*

It’s a sad irony that the State of Israel was founded as a state of the oppressed and has now become a state of the oppressor. As a Jew, and an Israeli citizen, that is painful to me as it is to many of us. But that doesn’t make it untrue. History is nothing if not a deep pool of irony where the unexpected often becomes the law. It’s not antisemitic to oppose those who dominate others, or to resist those who claim that they are the real victims of those they dominate.

Literary journal Tin House offers a podcast, Between the Covers, hosted by David Naimon. This transcript of his interview with British-Palestinian author Isabella Hammad, author of Recognizing the Stranger: On Palestine and Narrative, is a worthwhile longread, or you can listen to the audio on their website. (Hat tip to Jessica Dore’s Tarot Substack, Offerings, for the link.) I won’t even attempt to summarize all the ground that this conversation covers. Here are some quotes that stood out for me, mainly about the impossibility and necessity of making art when unspeakable things are happening.

But the significance is huge for everybody on the planet. The fact that a population can be so disposable is terrifying. To me, it’s very linked with the ways in which we’re destroying the planet as well. It’s this kind of savage removal of any boundaries or any pretenses or the pretenses have been worn away. That’s really frightening and should frighten people very seriously for themselves.

****

I don’t know if this is inherent to the novel form, if the novel is inherently tied to its bourgeois aesthetic origins if it’s hard to unshackle from that. I don’t think that’s true because there are lots of novels that are politically committed that do engage with struggle in direct ways and are galvanizing as well. I think that we shouldn’t close down how readers respond to texts. We can’t actually control how they read novels, how they respond to them, what they take from them. That wildness and that uncontrollability is part of their power and it’s part of what’s magic about novels. It’s a category error to suggest that the novel is going to itself, someone’s going to read a novel and then go into the street and march, but it can be part of a developing political education that allows them to take action. I think that it’s not so clear, but I won’t lie that that fear that revolutionary fervor is sapped by the well-being feeling that comes after watching something or reading something terrible, it is a counter-revolutionary emotion. But another counterargument is that it’s very tiring to fight the fight. We’re all exhausted at the moment. I mean, I’m exhausted and I know everybody’s exhausted. You can’t expect us to remain at that high tenor all the time. It’s a kind of multifarious process that requires also contemplation, it requires also moments of calm. They all feed each other in different ways.

****
What Palestinians have done for a very long time to try to prove that they are human, to humanize themselves, to write stories that humanize Palestinians. I think it’s insane to me that human beings should constantly have to humanize themselves. I mean, it’s not on us to prove that Palestinians are humans. It’s up to the other to overhear. I think that purely rhetorically, live aside the ethics of a politics of persuasion, but rhetorically, it’s much more effective to overhear than to feel like someone is trying to persuade you. It’s actually much more effective to hear dialogue, to hear different points of view, and to develop your understanding that way.

****

I was just saying the other day to somebody, “I just don’t feel any optimism anymore, there were points at which I felt really like we were going to see liberation in our lifetimes, that the uprising had set something in motion,” and the person I was speaking to said that on a macro level, they remain optimistic that the genie’s out of the bottle. Popular opinion has changed so dramatically, not at the higher echelons, but there’s no going back from this because everyone has seen it. That is no small thing. It’s hard to cling to that when so many people are being killed on a daily basis to feel that any such slaughter is worth it. But something’s happened and something’s changed. I think we have to have some faith in that, however long it takes that we’re on our way. As for advice about how to have faith in language, I mean there are people who are speaking, there are people who are speaking and writing and I think you just have to keep going basically.

Check out the Jewish Voice for Peace resource guide to the High Holidays for virtual and in-person services at synagogues around the U.S. that “have self-identified as non or anti-Zionist in their orientation as a congregation and/or in their practice. This means that it is absolutely understood that all people are equally valued: No nation state prayers are practiced, no Israeli flag is present, and a public statement calling for a permanent ceasefire is a baseline for all.”

Cat Pee Hegemony

In my capacity as cat-sitter to the literati, over Labor Day weekend I shared my home office with my orange nephews Rilke and Lorca, as well as my furry son Theodore. Much hissing and pissing ensued while the three lads jockeyed for territory. I alternated separating them into different rooms and allowing them supervised free-range interaction.

Theodore “Big Pussy” DiMeow approaches a sit-down with Li’l Ril from the Jersey Mob.

“You come to me…on the day of my daughter’s wedding…and you didn’t bring cat treats?”

From my superior (?) perspective, the boys’ squabbles seemed wasteful. Guys, I would say, you’re all cats! The most lovable creatures on earth! There are enough snuggles and kibble for all of you. Why can’t you get along?

The gingers’ dads are card-carrying members of the Communist Party. (Do they even have cards now? Probably codes in your Apple Wallet.) When I asked whether their cats needed a refresher course in communal ownership, they reminded me of the difference between personal and private property. Technically, I own the means of production, so the cats should band together to redistribute the contents of the kibble bag. Good thing they don’t have opposable thumbs.

The feline Game of Thrones taking place in my office led me to recall my unease during parts of Kamala Harris’ Democratic National Convention speech. Why does America need, or deserve, to have “the most lethal fighting force in the world”? Why should any country treat this as a prime objective or source of pride? I imagined folks in China probably listening to similar speeches from their politicians, promising that they would and should win the competition with America for global economic hegemony. The moral worth of this approach to international relations was simply assumed, as it always is in our presidential candidates’ and leaders’ speeches, Democrat or Republican.

Related to this, a Christian friend last month sent me a video of her favorite theologian, Greg Boyd, describing his “Warfare Worldview” as an ethical alternative to the idea that every event is part of God’s plan. He made a pretty convincing case that spiritual warfare between a good God and demonic forces explained the problem of evil better than the traditional theodicy that preserves God’s omnipotence by minimizing the importance of human suffering. As Ivan Karamazov famously argued, even one innocent child’s pain is too high a price to pay for “free will”.

Yet these two options felt like a false alternative imposed by an unexamined winner-take-all attitude to the cosmos, not unlike my cats’ competition to be Lord of the Office. Once we posit the existence of multiple spiritual entities, we should be able to imagine them coexisting and cooperating, not only fighting to wipe each other out. Evil and suffering could then be a consequence of the messy and imperfect business of sharing power. Intentionally malevolent spirits can be part of this worldview but you needn’t see bogeymen under every bed.

With the obvious caveat that human beings can warp any worldview to justify primitive monkey-brain status fights, I propose that there’s a connection between our cultural legacy of monotheism and American imperialism. As a survivor of abuse and gaslighting, I used to be comforted by the idea that someday everyone would agree on the same reality, on earth as in heaven. But Bible passages anticipating Jesus as sole acknowledged ruler of the earth hit me differently in this era of resurgent Christian nationalism.

Richard Beck’s trenchant essay “Bidenism Abroad” in New Left Review (March/April 2024) clarified why the Democrats’ version of American supremacy troubled me so much. Beck critiques how the foreign policy establishment prioritizes competing for superpower status with China even though this leads to decisions that could doom the planet for us all, like trade restrictions on Chinese-made electric cars and semiconductor technology. The Biden administration was caught off guard by October 7, and continues to enable the genocide in Gaza, because they didn’t want the Middle East to distract them from this objective. The problem is that our role in this human rights catastrophe destroys whatever remaining claim we had to deserve world leadership. Beck concludes:

Biden didn’t just promise to ensure that America’s economy remains the world’s largest, or that America’s military remains the world’s strongest. He promised to do what Giovanni Arrighi said is required of a hegemon in The Long Twentieth Century. Hegemonic power, Arrighi wrote, is ‘the power associated with dominance expanded by the exercise of “intellectual and moral leadership”’. What distinguishes it from its non-hegemonic competitors is that only the hegemon can plausibly claim to be advancing global interests other than its own. ‘The claim of the dominant group to represent the general interest is always more or less fraudulent’, Arrighi writes. ‘Nevertheless . . . we shall speak of hegemony only when the claim is at least partly true and adds something to the power of the dominant group’.

American hegemony certainly lives on for now in Europe, where compliant nato allies continue to fall over one another in their rush to hollow out social services and buy American arms. And the us may be able to retain economic dominance in a relative sense even if it never manages to reverse the slowdown in global growth, so long as its own economic power weakens less than that of its rivals. But after Gaza, America can no longer credibly claim global ‘hegemony’ in Arrighi’s sense. Biden’s support for Israel, motivated both by strategic considerations and what appears to be a real inability on his part to see Palestinians as fully human, flies in the face of both American and global public opinion. Europe may hold on to America’s coattails for a while yet, but in the rest of the world, continued American supremacy will be based primarily on coercion. Arrighi identified the catastrophe of America’s invasion of Iraq as the turning point: ‘The unravelling of the neoconservative Project for a New American Century’, he wrote, ‘has for all practical purposes resulted in the terminal crisis of us hegemony—that is, in its transformation into mere domination’. If it is true that Iraq marked the point at which American hegemony actually changed into domination, then perhaps Gaza marks the point at which Americans finally realized it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still voting for Harris in November, but I am not joining a cult of personality around any politician. Hoping for a political savior, be it a nation or a president, is part of the winner-take-all worldview that got us into this mess.

I’ll close with this Beatitudes hot take by singer Jon Guerra, “American Gospel”. Hat tip to historian James R. Moore for the link.

July Links Roundup: Surviving Without Heroes

Summertime, and the living is…not easy.

Many book-lovers are heartbroken over new revelations that the recently deceased fiction writer Alice Munro, a Nobel Prize for Literature winner, covered up her husband’s sexual abuse of her daughter. Andrea Robin Skinner’s July 7 essay in the Toronto Star describes how her stepfather, Gerald Fremlin, began molesting her when she was nine. When her PTSD started taking over her life in her 20s, she attempted to tell Munro. It didn’t go well:

One day, during that period, while I was visiting my mother, she told me about a short story she had just read. In the piece, a girl dies by suicide after her stepfather sexually abuses her. “Why didn’t she tell her mother?” she asked me. A month later, inspired by her reaction to the story, I wrote her a letter finally telling her what had happened to me.

As it turned out, in spite of her sympathy for a fictional character, my mother had no similar feelings for me. She reacted exactly as I had feared she would, as if she had learned of an infidelity.

She called my sister Sheila, told her she was leaving Fremlin, and flew to her condo in Comox, B.C. I visited her there and was overwhelmed by her sense of injury to herself. She believed my father had made us keep the secret in order to humiliate her. She then told me about other children Fremlin had “friendships” with, emphasizing her own sense that she, personally, had been betrayed.

Did she realize she was speaking to a victim, and that I was her child? If she did, I couldn’t feel it. When I tried to tell her how her husband’s abuse had hurt me, she was incredulous. “But you were such a happy child,” she said.

…My mother went back to Fremlin, and stayed with him until he died in 2013. She said that she had been “told too late,” she loved him too much, and that our misogynistic culture was to blame if I expected her to deny her own needs, sacrifice for her children, and make up for the failings of men. She was adamant that whatever had happened was between me and my stepfather. It had nothing to do with her.

“Alice Munro Was Hiding in Plain Sight,” Michelle Dean writes in The Cut, observing that Munro’s fiction about repressed Canadian families takes on a new resonance now. “All the stories, every last one, are about secrets the people in them keep because they are constrained by personality or, more often, by their ‘quiet’ social order from expressing any kind of inner life.”

This story feels like a gut punch to a lot of readers because Munro wrote so insightfully about the psychology of families other than her own, and because she wasn’t a typical literary bad boy. (For instance, the sexual assault accusations against Neil Gaiman don’t seem inconsistent with the porny misogyny of some of his comic-book scripts.) If she could have a secret like this, anyone could be next. I remember my disillusionment on learning about similar behavior by Marion Zimmer Bradley, whose novel The Mists of Avalon was revered in my childhood home for its positive model of feminist and pagan spirituality.

But human beings can be willfully ignorant a lot of the time–just look at “What Were We Thinking? The Top Ten Most Dangerous Ads” from Collectors Weekly, reprinted on Pocket Worthy. Did we really believe that women should douche with Lysol, or that children should eat Vitamin Donuts? I’m guessing that the “Vi-Rex Violet Rays” self-shock machine was a tactfully disguised sex toy, like the Relax-a-Cizor weight loss belt that Peggy Olson tested on “Mad Men”. You’ll love the way it makes you feel!

Ijeoma Oluo, author of the NY Times bestseller So You Want to Talk About Race, has a bracing but optimistic post on her Substack called “How We Get Through This”—this being the rise of fascism entailed by end-stage capitalism. The government’s not going to save us. Oluo says, “start supporting real, revolutionary work happening outside of our systems…Build friendships and connections based on community care.” Meditate, get therapy, make art, and give yourself permission to stop doom-scrolling. Hobbies are a survival skill, not frivolity.

You’re going to need something you enjoy doing, something that is accessible and affordable, that can really take up your time and attention when you need it, and is completely unrelated to organizing work. You need that thing that you can do while your internal systems regulate and recover from the near constant state of panic and attack that these external systems want to keep us in. This is not escapism, this is crucial to our survival. We absolutely cannot survive in constant states of fight or flight. You need to be deliberate about cultivating activities that you can always access that will allow you brief moments of rest.

Charlie J. Stephens’ exquisite novel A Wounded Deer Leaps Highest, released this spring by Torrey House Press, is about that kind of survival. A nonbinary tween in 1980s rural Oregon, abused and neglected at home, takes refuge in their mystical connection with nature. Orion Magazine interviewed them in this piece, “Beyond Binaries in Ecological Writing”. Stephens says:

I particularly love the work that queer ecology does in questioning our human assumptions about what is “natural” and what is “normal.” I wrote a recent personal essay specifically on the binary, and I appreciate how queer ecologists/thinkers have made links between that mindset and climate collapse. I’ve been particularly interested in the past few years in studying and practicing animism, which overlaps with queer ecologies in terms of envisioning a world where human and non-human beings are given equal consideration and where, ideally, one day, our mutual interdependence is made clear to the masses…

…I have long found it uncomfortable that the earth is so often depicted as female, and as a mother. I’m not familiar enough with the ways other cultures hold this, but in the specific, largely white middle-class, American environmental movement of the 1970s it was a strange (but unfortunately, completely predictable) decision to feminize the earth as a strategy for its salvation in a country that is thoroughly misogynist and systematically punishes women. If the leadership of that movement had been in the hands of other cultures here, I believe we would be in a much different place now.

One of my animist teachers, Daniel Foor, talks about the importance of not continuing to unconsciously project our societal ideas about gender onto the planet, and in having historically done so, we can see where this has led us. He also talks about the problem of seeing Earth as a woman who needs to be protected and saved, and how that opens the door to patriarchal chivalrousness—and savior mentalities—instead of just seeing our mutual interconnectedness.

For more fresh perspectives on healing, I recently discovered the site Mad in America: Science, Psychiatry and Social Justice. Leah Warren’s June 19 article “Madness, Utopia and Revolt: An Interview With Sasha Warren” talks with the founder of the project Of Unsound Mind, which examines the links between the mental health industry and the carceral state. Warren recounts excavating the archives of old asylums for inmate-produced publications that reveal not only suffering but self-advocacy, humor, and even appreciation for their treatments. From these surprising findings, Warren concluded that both psychiatry and anti-psychiatry movements trade in oversimplified binaries and false promises of cure-alls for the evils of the past. “In a sense, every founding gesture of psychiatry is also an anti-psychiatric gesture. Psychiatry requires anti-psychiatry so that it doesn’t get stilted and stuck and frozen in place. It needs this negative gesture to break it up and allow it to flow more freely into other spaces.”

May Links Roundup: Have a Good Time with Bad Art

Happy May, readers! I have been traveling a lot, writing a little, and gluing things together. Remember how, during the pandemic, those of us stuck at home went through a Little House on the Prairie phase of cooking and handicrafts to stay grounded in our bodies in our suddenly virtual social world? My Instant Pot is gathering dust, but my collage habit remains. The pleasure and challenge of amateur art-making is defending a space where self-evaluation doesn’t enter into the process. Though trying to refine my craft in terms of composition and editing, I’m working hard to keep ambition and comparison out of it. Save that for my literary career!

Caroline Osella, an anthropologist turned freelance writer and novelist, shares similar sentiments in her tongue-in-cheek Substack post “Make Shitty Crafts”. In elementary school, everyone’s encouraged to try painting, singing, and writing poems. But soon this democracy of creativity gives way to the academic Sorting Hat of “talent” and competitive testing that narrows students’ access to the creative professions. Social media threatens to recreate this joy-killing dynamic once we start comparing our quilts and apple pies to perfect photos online. Osella describes how her experiments with fabric dyeing and crochet made her happy no matter how irregularly they turned out.

There was a good slice of humour involved for us all in our house, especially at the beginning, as a kind of transitional mood over the period when everyone’s hopes for gorgeous outcomes to my studio time transmuted into pure and indifferent absorption in activity for me and into a sorrowful letting-go for everyone else. But, unlike those ironic millennials, deliberately setting out to do horrible stuff was never the initial goal. Product – satisfactory or disappointing as it might be – quickly faded out of any reckoning altogether, as I found myself completely taken up in process and flow and gradually developing a kindness towards myself, towards my lack of skill and towards everything that resulted. There’s no archness or camp irony at work here.

On his literary Substack, The Common Reader, Henry Oliver (Second Act: What Late Bloomers Can Tell You About Reinventing Your Life) takes up the question “Is Mary Oliver a good poet?” (And does it matter?) Like Stephen King or Rupi Kaur, Mary Oliver–presumably no relation to Henry?–is a frequent focus of the eternal rivalry between popular, accessible writers and obscure niche weirdos like yours truly. Henry quite convincingly argues why Mary’s work should not be reduced to the quotable platitudes that make the rounds online. She dares to be sincere and straightforward, to such an extent that her work has a transcendent quality, becoming a clear window through which we view the nonhuman world. Citing her “wild and precious life” poem, Henry notes:

If you only quote the last two lines, as happens so often, then you are taking this poem out of context. We do this to Kipling too, another victim of the “middlebrow” label. But he’s still a great poet. If is still a great poem. Just because lots of people turn a poem, or a quote, into the poetic equivalent of muzak doesn’t mean the poem is in fact muzak. Read this poem again. Mary Oliver is asking that final question in a very different manner to the way it is usually asked out of context.

I suppose it’s a special and rare irony to have your work be so popular that it’s underestimated. This past week, visiting the Museum of Modern Art in NYC, I was in the actual presence of paintings that have become so widely reproduced that it’s hard to see them with fresh eyes: Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”, for instance, or Picasso’s “Demoiselles d’Avignon”. It takes real self-discipline to sit down in front of these paintings, empty the mind of what you think you know about them, and let them speak to you. I couldn’t do that very well with the Van Gogh because it’s quite small and was surrounded by fans taking iPhone pictures of it, but its juxtaposition with Georges Méliès’ goofy 1902 silent film “A Trip to the Moon” brought out the painting’s previously unnoticed resonances with early science fiction.

The Summer 2023 issue of online lit mag Tyger Quarterly includes poet S. Yarberry’s imagined “interview” with William Blake. Both the questions and the answers are playful and visionary in a manner befitting the author of “Tyger! Tyger!”

Would wings be an improvement for the human body?

Flying is very fun although it’s not bad to save some fun things for the afterlife.

…

What two historical characters would you like to bring together?

God is a funny historical character and not one I’ve always liked. If everyone who believes in God (“God,“ of course, can and should be interpreted broadly, creatively) could meet God (which to me means to meet themselves more truly, more ardently), they might have a new outlook on the way things could be. That might be nice.

Billy Lezra’s visceral personal essay at Electric Lit, “I Don’t Know How to Live If My Anorexia Dies”, resists a predictable recovery arc in favor of examining how our strengths may be intertwined with a mental illness or addiction that people tell us to overcome. A self without this fundamental trait can feel too hard to imagine. I resonated with this passage in particular:

In her essay “Writing Shame,” Elspeth Probyn draws a connection between the act of writing and the experience of shame. She suggests that writing and shame go hand in hand because there is “a shame in being highly interested in something and unable to convey it to others.” As writers, we are required to wrestle with the question:what if no one cares about what we care to uncover? Or worse, what if people reduce and reject what we disclose?

Yes–my self-hating voice doesn’t say I’m a bad writer, it says “Nobody cares about what you care about.” It’s not imposter syndrome but weirdo syndrome.

Lezra’s author bio took me to Rough Cut Press, the queer lit mag where they are editor-in-chief, and this interview with inspirational nonbinary author and social media influencer Jeffrey Marsh. Marsh’s Buddhist-inspired advice helped me get through some difficult family conversations this week.

In an interview with PBS, you invited the interviewer to describe you in a word, and he said “light.” And then you said: “Well, you just described yourself.” I was curious about how you came to this understanding–that you are a mirror.

I realized quite a long time ago that my mission in life is to draw out what needs to be healed in people. Sometimes that is a great thing if they are in a place where that is what they want. But sometimes it gets ugly: I draw out their bigotry or whatever they need to get over in order to have peace in their lives. And they rebel, which is understandable. But my mission doesn’t change. What I’m here to do doesn’t change. And what I hope to be is a bookmark for unconditional love and acceptance until people realize that unconditional love is actually within them and has been the whole time. I’m always pointing people toward the realization that whatever they see in me is because they have it already.

…

I would like to ask you about anger. You write: “At its best, anger is a call to fairness and a hand stretched out in your direction, an invitation to honor how much you care.” How do you distinguish between generative anger and destructive anger?

Yes–what we might call righteous anger versus run-of-the-mill hate. To me, I think they’re one and the same. I’m going to give you a very non-binary answer: constructive and destructive anger both spring out of a sense of injustice. I would imagine that someone hateful hates me because there is some sense that my freedom is not available to them, which is an injustice: that I’m getting attention, that I deeply love myself, and that they’re not allowed to. And that sense of injustice creates a lot of anger, just from what I’ve observed. But anger can be a source for good because there’s a lot of injustice that ought to be overturned in this world. Anger is a friend. Anger is trying to tell you something. Jesus got very angry in the Bible, famously. And that story, as far as I understand it, is about injustice. So anger is human. Anger is a kindness. For so many of us who have been traumatized, the worst thing we can think of is inflicting trauma on other people. We tend to associate anger with one or both of our parents being very traumatic, violent,  hateful, mean, being the chaos. And if you break anger away from those associations, it really is a story of injustice and sensations in your body. So anger can really be an invitation.

A word I’ve seen surface in your work is “nonviolence.” What does this idea mean to you? 

I’m committed to nonviolence both internally and externally. And as we were discussing before, you almost can’t have one without the other. You can’t do activism to end the violence in the world without ending the internal violence as well.

What does it look like to be nonviolent with yourself?

Unconditional love. These phrases get thrown around and I’m guessing some people reading may be rolling their eyes. But what I mean is: even if something happens that doesn’t go well, even if you have feelings, you have trauma, you have things that are coming up…can you love yourself in every single situation? To me, judging yourself, hating yourself, those voices inside your head saying, “Why’d you do that?”, “They’re going to laugh at you,” “You’re so stupid”– that’s internal violence. And if you’re going to commit yourself to nonviolence and commit yourself to be nonviolent in every possible situation, that is a wide-open invitation for life to bring in things that may challenge you because you’ve committed to facing challenges.

Marsh’s latest book is called Take Your Own Advice. It’s about learning to honor your own needs as an empath or trauma survivor. Added to my long wishlist!

Also from Electric Lit, I recommend Laura M. Martin’s salty essay, “Fake Authenticity Is Toxic, and So Are Iowa-Style Writing Workshops”. In it she slams the encounter-group model of writing workshops where the author stays silent while their classmates gang up on them with feedback. She compares it to a meet-up series she tried, Connection Games, whose social norms ended up pressuring participants to share vulnerable feelings more quickly than wanted to. “Unnerving people by oversharing and demanding reciprocal vulnerability” is at best untrained group therapy, at worst a technique for pick-up artists to neg women.

The game assumes honesty from others; it requires trusting what they say over your own impressions…

In both writing workshops and Authentic Relating, participants are expected to share deeply personal information with people they don’t know and may not even like or be comfortable with. Both spaces require vulnerability without providing the room to acknowledge discomfort or push back against assumptions…

“Authenticity” has become code for ignoring the impact of our behavior on the people around us, being unattuned to their responses. Others will be freer, the guidelines state, if they don’t have to worry about your “unspoken needs.”  But a lack of concern about the feelings of other people isn’t authenticity, it’s immaturity…

…

I hated writing workshops, but I also believed they were necessary. How could a method used by dozens of universities for over seventy years be wrong? Once, I voiced concern to other members of my cohort. They said they found the criticism valuable, but after graduation, most of them stopped writing entirely.

If we make people feel unsafe, we aren’t seeing their true selves; we are seeing their responses to threat. Forcing personal disclosures and giving unsolicited “feedback” puts us in a state where self-reflection is impossible. Who can work on self-improvement when they’re under attack? Safety is a necessary prerequisite for connection and growth. It must come first.

March Bonus Links: Notable Poems and Short Fiction Around the Web

So much good stuff from the online journals I’ve been reading lately, I had to make a separate links post!

At Frontier Poetry, Chris Watkins queers George Herbert’s tradition of Christ-haunted sonnets in “Prayer (II)”.

Prayer—even now, secular,
every poem you write, a knees-bent child
leaning on their mattress. The mouth molecular.
The porno of your guilt. A Girls Gone Wild
of the soul. …

Sara Fetherolf’s “On Renting”, the Feb. 26 Poem of the Week at the Missouri Review, is a modern-day psalm that swerves rapidly between faith and doubt, compassion and cursing, and back again. The landlord, like a jealous God, offers shelter, for which the narrator is supposed be grateful, but the price is petty surveillance and a feeling of humiliation.

…Once, I was taught the Lord
owns my life, spreads the sky
like a ceiling over my head, grants money

to those he favors, lightning otherwise.
I suppose the landlord is
a small, frumpy incarnation of that
Lord, taking it upon himself
to trudge past my window

and inspect the meter, talk
to the lime-vested employee
who is calculating our bill
and not his. In the last days
of my faith, I came to think of the Lord

as an enormous grub,
pillowy & pale as curdled milk.
He eats rot into this earth
like a maggot into a potato
but it is human meat

He craves. He wants to make us
in His image by consuming
us down to the bone. …

Also from the Missouri Review, Robert Long Foreman’s “Song Night” is a hilarious and touching story about a guy who decides to be honest with his teenage daughter about their shared enjoyment of marijuana.

What was I feeling? Shame? It was something like shame, but I also knew this wasn’t such a big deal. Teenagers get high. They’ve been doing it since at least the 1960s. They probably did it in the 1860s. And why shouldn’t they? Sure, they should take care of their internal organs, but then, everything causes cancer, now that the world is a trash heap. Even the water we drink causes cancer, as does the air we have no choice but to breathe. And it’s not like teenagers have urgent business to attend to that being stoned would prevent them from addressing properly. They should probably be high all the time, since in the years ahead, there’s nothing but dullness awaiting them and people they won’t like having to deal with but who are somehow in charge of whether they keep their jobs and how much money they’ll make.

Abigail F. Taylor’s “Snagging Blanket”, a flash fiction finalist at Fractured Lit, is like a ballad by The Highwaymen, in that it captures an entire life story of love, loss, and bittersweet wisdom in just a few minutes.

Sundance Lee draped his old snagging blanket around his shoulders. It hadn’t snagged anyone for many years. His legs were too skinny, and there was too much silver in his thin braids. Still, it was powwow season. He had plenty of opportunities. During the Grand Entry the day before, he caught a white woman whispering “aho” in quiet fascination to herself, trying to mimic the emcee’s cadence. Her eyes flitted nervously in Lee’s direction; he was standing so close, and he almost snagged her with a smile. It would have been that easy.

Except there was something churchy about her, like she’d become frightened by him once they were alone and naked in his camper. The equal parts of fear and desire in the so-called ‘exotic’ reminded him of his first wife. So, he left the woman alone to her muttering. …

I’m excited about poet Phillip B. Williams’ debut novel, Ours (Viking, 2024). In this installment of their “Ten Questions for…” author interview series, Poets & Writers Magazine describes the book thus:

In this historical narrative with a supernatural twist, the plantations of 1830s Arkansas are overtaken and liberated by a heroic woman named Saint, who wields immense, otherworldly power. Under Saint’s aegis, the formerly enslaved people travel to a hidden town where they are able to build lives for themselves and their families.

Williams’ response to one question shows a refreshing equanimity:

If you could go back in time and talk to the earlier you, before you started Ours, what would you say?
Nothing. I’m not about to change the trajectory of what I’ve created. If I encourage younger me, I might get cocky. If I warn younger me, I might take fewer risks. I’m not saying a thing.

At Jewish Currents, Solomon Brager’s graphic narrative “Put Up, Take Down” even-handedly depicts the rhetorical battle between pro-Palestine and pro-Israel posters since Oct. 7, and how these campaigns have been both amplified and distorted by media outlets with their own agendas.

It’s March Xness time again! This year, the editors of DIAGRAM are staging playoffs among 64 iconic dance songs from the early 2000’s. My problematic fave from this playlist, which hasn’t come up in the bracket yet, is definitely “Get Low” by Lil Jon and The East Side Boyz. I’ve been replaying it on Spotify till the sweat drop down my balls (my balls!). Which is saying a lot, since my balls are made of silicone.

Never fear, Chris Rock is here to absolve us, in this clip from his 2004 HBO special Never Scared. If the beat is good, who cares what it says?

Israel-Palestine: Further Thoughts, Links, and a Prayer

In this season of Hanukkah, which, like many Jewish holidays, commemorates resistance to eradication by a more powerful empire, it’s difficult but necessary to recognize the paradox that one can be an oppressed minority in the wider world and simultaneously an oppressor in a local context. It’s agonizing to imagine the sexual violence and other atrocities Hamas committed against the Oct. 7 hostages. It equally pains me to read the Twitter reports about innocent Palestinian writers, journalists, and doctors who have recently died in Israel’s punitive bombing of Gaza. The current iteration of Zionism doesn’t make me feel safer as a person of Jewish background. The most hard-line government in my adult lifetime doesn’t seem to be keeping Israelis safe either.

I am dialoguing by email with readers who have different views from mine, and may share some of our conversations here in the future. Meanwhile, here are some readings that helped me this week.

A friend shared this poetic prayer with me, “Hanukkah 2023: We Light These Lights for Gaza,” by Rabbi Brant Rosen. The rabbi’s blog says he leads a Reconstructionist congregation in Chicago and is an activist for Israel/Palestine justice work. The last stanza especially moved me:

These lights we light tonight
will never be used for any other purpose
but to proclaim the miracle
of this truth:
it is not by might nor by cruelty
but by a love that burns relentlessly
that this broken world
will be redeemed.

Journalist Noah Berlatsky has helped me reconsider how we talk about “diaspora” as a temporary or less-than-ideal condition for world Jewry. He revisits this critique in his Dec. 7 Sojourners article “They Said Only Israel Could Keep Me Safe”.

There is no magic guarantee for safety. The Jewish diaspora has responded to this truth of insecurity by putting roots down in many places. We’ve done so with the recognition that no one place is perfect or safe, but with a faith that we can work to make wherever we are better, more welcoming, and freer for Jewish people — and ideally not just for Jewish people. The vision of diaspora is a vision not of Jewish control or Jewish dominance but of cosmopolitanism, of sharing, of allowing your neighbors to transform you as you transform them. Safety can reside not in controlling land and borders, but in an openness that sees belonging as portable and communal.

…That’s not to say that the diaspora is a utopia. But it is to say that in privileging Israel as the site of safety and hope, Jewish people forget that the diaspora is an important resource, a major influence on Jewish culture, and a critical aspect of Jewish history. Fascists like Hitler hated and tried to destroy the diaspora because it rejected purity and ethnonationalism in favor of heterogeneity and cosmopolitanism. For that and the other reasons I mention, we need to recognize the diaspora not as a weakness or failure, but as a hope, a refuge, and a site for antifascist defiance.

“A Dangerous Conflation” is an open letter in the arts and culture journal n+1, signed by hundreds of Jewish writers, artists, and activists “who wish to disavow the widespread narrative that any criticism of Israel is inherently antisemitic.” Notable signatories include Nan Goldin, Tony Kushner, Sarah Schulman, Judith Butler, poet Chase Berggrun, political historian Jeff Sharlet, and actress Hari Nef. The letter proclaims, “We find this rhetorical tactic antithetical to Jewish values, which teach us to repair the world, question authority, and champion the oppressed over the oppressor.”

Two stories that make me concerned about our foreign policy priorities: “US vetoes UN resolution backed by many nations demanding immediate humanitarian cease-fire in Gaza” (AP News, Dec. 9); “US skips congressional review to approve emergency sale of tank shells to Israel” (Reuters, Dec. 9).

According to that same AP story:

Israel’s military campaign has killed more than 17,400 people in Gaza — 70% of them women and children — and wounded more than 46,000, according to the Palestinian territory’s Health Ministry, which says many others are trapped under rubble. The ministry does not differentiate between civilian and combatant deaths…

…[U.N. Secretary-General Antonio] Guterres said Hamas’ brutality against Israelis on Oct. 7 “can never justify the collective punishment of the Palestinian people.”

“While indiscriminate rocket fire by Hamas into Israel, and the use of civilians as human shields, are in contravention of the laws of war, such conduct does not absolve Israel of its own violations,” he stressed.

The U.N. chief detailed the “humanitarian nightmare” Gaza is facing, citing intense, widespread and ongoing Israeli attacks from air, land and sea that reportedly have hit 339 education facilities, 26 hospitals, 56 health care facilities, 88 mosques and three churches.

Over 60% of Gaza’s housing has reportedly been destroyed or damaged, some 85% of the population has been forced from their homes, the health system is collapsing, and “nowhere in Gaza is safe,” Guterres said.

…Amnesty International’s Secretary General Agnès Callamard criticized the U.S. for continuing to transfer munitions to the Israeli government “that contribute to the decimation of entire families.”

And Louis Charbonneau, U.N. director at Human Rights Watch, said that by providing weapons and diplomatic cover to Israel “as it commits atrocities, including collectively punishing the Palestinian civilian population in Gaza, the U.S. risks complicity in war crimes.”

 

 

Spooktober Reading Roundup

I love horror. Not gore, so much, but the creepy stuff. Give me dark family psychology (gee I wonder why), cursed objects from dusty archives, the uncanny blankness of our modern built environment and the soulless things lurking beneath its plastic surfaces. Lately I’m especially drawn to historical atrocities with a supernatural twist, a sub-genre where a lot of writers of color are currently making their mark.

I read every horror anthology I could get my hands on in the 80s and 90s, mostly from school and public libraries because our family was broke. I knew I was “movin’ on up…,” as The Jeffersons theme song went, when I could afford to buy the annual Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror trade paperback for $25.

Nowadays I get most of my literary scares from NetGalley or thrift stores, a nice mix of old and new. Honestly sometimes the most chilling aspect of these pulp paperbacks is how much sexism and homophobia you could get away with in the 1990s.

Certain flavors of horror don’t appeal to me, but this is my personal taste rather than an aesthetic pronouncement. I don’t usually pick up zombie stories because (I assume) they will be gross and violent. Same for serial killers, whose psychology is not as interesting as they themselves think it is. I can’t picture myself as a character in a post-apocalyptic survival novel, because it’s drearily obvious that I would immediately die from falling into a hole, just like I do in Minecraft every time my son demands that I play. Or else I’d be the person killed and eaten by my starving companions in the first week for complaining too much about the lack of flush toilets.

With respect to horror fiction based on real-life historical injustices, I find these books uniquely satisfying because they have a purpose beyond momentary thrills. I learned about the Negro Travelers’ Green Book from Lovecraft Country. Victor LaValle’s cosmic horror Western Lone Women, one of the best books I read this year, taught me about the diversity of 19th-century frontier homesteaders. Often, the terror and suspense in these books arise from oppressive forces that persist in the present day. The ghosts and monsters, on the other hand, may be a powerless group’s unlikely allies. If cosmic justice isn’t forthcoming, at least coding these stories as horror is refreshing in its honesty, compared to the whitewashed narratives of progress in our “realistic” history books.

A standout in this category is Tananarive Due’s The Reformatory, coming out Oct. 31 from Gallery/Saga Press. Set in rural Florida in 1950, it’s based on a horrendous “reform school” where one of her ancestors perished as a teenager. Robbie, the 12-year-old son of a Black labor activist, is sent there on trumped-up charges to bring his father out of hiding. The sadistic warden takes a special interest in the boy because he can see the ghosts of other young inmates who were killed by beatings, rape, and hard labor. Capturing the ghosts will allow the warden to cover up his crimes. In return, maybe he’ll let Robbie go free. But the ghosts are going to make Robbie a counter-offer that he’s afraid to refuse.

This week in Jessica Dore’s Tarot newsletter, I came across a citation to Saidiya Hartman’s essay “Venus in Two Acts”, which is a meditation on the simultaneous impossibility and necessity of reconstructing the voices of sexually exploited female slaves. Hartman’s remarks about the archives’ “libidinal investment in violence” resonated with themes in The Reformatory, where the warden keeps a secret stash of photos of the boys he’s abused. Robbie and his allies hope to use this evidence against their tormentor, yet they know there’s no guarantee that the images will inspire empathy, let alone effective action from the authorities. The archive is contagious and uncontrollable as the Necronomicon, titillating the white gaze, while infecting Black viewers with further traumatic images.

Comedian and horror movie director (a combo that makes sense if you think about it) Jordan Peele is the editor of Out There Screaming: An Anthology of New Black Horror, just published last week. This one was a mixed bag, for me, with some amazing stories and others that didn’t have enough of a point, but I recommend checking it out anyhow. Tananarive Due contributes another solid tale based on Jim Crow history, this time about Freedom Riders seeking supernatural aid to fend off white supremacists. Nnedi Okorafor’s elegiac story of a Nigerian-American haunted by an Old World deity contains a wry moment when two white Karens in her neighborhood see the monstrous figure in her driveway and demand that she show them her parade permit! You may see the twist coming in Terence Taylor’s virtual-reality nightmare “Your Happy Place” but it’s no less horrifying, because you know that if the technology existed, America would happily sign onto this method of extracting prison labor.

Also out this month, Raul Palma’s A Haunting in Hialeah Gardens (Dutton) is a tragicomic ghost story about an impoverished Santeria priest in Miami who promises to exorcise his debt-collection lawyer’s McMansion in exchange for loan forgiveness. The book is both a Dickensian satire of capitalism and a poignant exploration of survivor guilt, as the priest learns that some emotional debts must be lived with, not expunged.

A pulp anthology that deserves to be rediscovered is Women of Darkness (Tor/Tom Doherty Assocs., 1988), edited by Kathryn Ptacek. Intentionally feminist without being didactic, this collection of horror stories by then-contemporary women writers holds up better than its male-dominated counterparts from this era. Lisa Tuttle’s haunting yet humorous tale “The Spirit Cabinet” reminds me of Carmen Maria Machado’s “The Husband Stitch” in how even a nice husband can dismiss his wife’s perceptions, with fatal consequences. Kit Reed’s “Baby” explores the darker side of the all-consuming bond between mother and child. Elizabeth Massie’s grotesque “Hooked on Buzzer” deals karmic revenge to people who exploited a disabled young woman.

From the same period (and batch of tag-sale paperbacks), I enjoyed Shadows 6 (Berkley Books, 1983), edited by Charles L. Grant, and Supernatural Sleuths (Roc, 1996), edited by Martin H. Greenberg…but with the caveat that both include some cringey sexism and ethnic stereotypes. Some of the new-to-me authors whose work I especially liked were Leslie A. Horvitz, Jack Ritchie, and Lee Killough.

The anthology Dark Fantasies (Legend, 1989), edited by Chris Morgan, evokes the gritty and despondent vibes of Thatcherite Britain, with contributions by Ramsey Campbell, Nicholas Royle, Tanith Lee, Lisa Tuttle, Ian Watson, and others. In a lot of these tales, you’re not sure if something supernatural is happening or the characters have had a psychological breakdown, but either option is suitably unsettling.

Out of Tune, Book 2 (JournalStone, 2016), edited by Jonathan Maberry, is an anthology of horror and dark fantasy stories that each take inspiration from a spooky folk song or murder ballad. Books organized around a gimmick tend to be uneven in quality but this one, in my opinion, was consistently strong. Contributors include Cherie Priest, Delilah S. Dawson, and David J. Schow. Pretty sure I got this one at the NecronomiCon Providence vendor hall in 2017. The Young Master has graduated from “Paw Patrol” to “Wednesday Addams” (and not a moment too soon) so the stars may align for a family trip to NecronomiCon next August.

Just another Sunday afternoon in Northampton.

July Links Roundup: Happy Barbenheimer Month

Happy pink apocalypse, readers! Can you believe I have not seen the “Barbie” movie yet? Clearly, I’m working too hard.

Recent signs of the End Times include the ongoing right-wing attack on libraries. BookRiot reported on July 7 that “Hoopla, Overdrive/Libby Now Banned for Those Under 18 in Mississippi”:

Despite the age of consent in Mississippi being 16, no one under the age of 18 will have access to digital materials made available through public and school libraries without explicit parental/guardian permission.

Mississippi has a new law on the books directly impacting access and use of digital resources like Hoopla and Overdrive for those under the age of 18 throughout the state. Even if granted parental permission, minors may not have materials available to them, if vendors do not ensure every item within their offerings meets the new, wide-reaching definition of “obscenity” per the state. Mississippi Code 39-3-25, part of House Bill 1315, went into effect July 1, 2023, and libraries across the state have scrambled for how to be in compliance…

By definition, any vendor is out of compliance by simply having materials available in their system which depict sexual reproduction or queerness in any capacity. Images of nude female breasts–which are often part of sexual education, reproductive education, and/or biology and anatomy books written for those under the age of 18–would be out of compliance with the law.

These gatekeeping requirements further entrench educational inequality. Teens without good libraries in their hometowns now face further limits on what they can learn digitally. Those exploring different beliefs and identities will have to out themselves to their parents or lose access to potentially life-saving information.

In other free speech news, the Texas Tribune reported on July 11 that “Texas A&M recruited a UT professor to revive its journalism program, then backtracked after ‘DEI hysteria'”. Evidently, A&M didn’t notice that UT-Austin journalism school director Kathleen McElroy had covered diversity and inclusion stories for the New York Times for 20 years. No wonder their journalism program needs help. In any event, some of McElroy’s fellow A&M alumni made a stink that she was talking about racial equity–the horror! We can expect more cowardly behavior from other school admins, in light of the state’s crackdown on talking about things that make white people uncomfortable:

Behind the scenes, A&M spent weeks altering the terms of her job. After hearing about the concerns, McElroy agreed to a five-year contract position without tenure, which would have avoided a review by regents. On Sunday, she received a third offer, this time with a one-year contract and emphasizing that the appointment was at will and that she could be terminated at any time. She has rejected the offer and shared all of the offer letters with the Tribune.

The situation comes at a fraught time at Texas public universities. Schools are preparing for a new state law to go into effect in January that bans offices, programs and training that promote diversity, equity and inclusion. Recently, the Texas A&M System started a systemwide audit of all DEI offices in response to the new law.

Also in Texas, the Supreme Court’s ill-founded decision last month in 303 Creative LLC v. Elenis is empowering other homophobes to deny services to gay couples. According to the Texas Tribune:

McLennan County Justice of the Peace Dianne Hensley filed a lawsuit after a state agency warned her about refusing to marry gay couples. She hopes a recent U.S. Supreme Court case about religious freedom helps her cause.

Since Waco judge Dianne Hensley received a public warning from the State Commission on Judicial Conduct for refusing to perform same-sex marriages in 2019, she’s waged a public battle against the state agency.

She’s long claimed the governmental body violated state law by punishing her for actions taken in accordance with her religious faith. Now, she has submitted a brief arguing that the recent Supreme Court ruling in favor of a business owner who refused services to same-sex couples will help her case…

Her lawsuit alleges that the commission violated her rights under the Texas Religious Freedom Restoration Act. Her lawsuit was dismissed by a lower appeals tribunal, but last month, the Texas Supreme Court said it will hear arguments on whether to revive the state judge’s lawsuit.

How this will be resolved is anyone’s guess. In her role as a public official, Hensley doesn’t have as much freedom of speech as the private website designer in 303 Creative. At least, that’s how prior case law has treated public employees’ rights to express views contrary to their employer. But given that the Supreme Court shouldn’t even have heard 303 Creative, because the plaintiff lied about having been asked to create a gay wedding website in the first place, one can’t count on precedent to stand in the way of right-wing judges’ desired outcome.

Recent state-level bans on trans health care have repeatedly failed court challenges. The Intercept‘s Natasha Lennard warns that we still can’t be complacent, based on Republicans’ successful long game for overturning reproductive rights.

Democrats failed for decades to vigorously defend reproductive rights by lending all too much credence to the Christian right’s anti-abortion stance. President Bill Clinton’s famous phrase — that abortion should be “safe, legal, and rare” — treated abortion as an unfortunate necessity rather than an integral part of bodily autonomy and a public good.

There’s a relevant analogy here between the common liberal treatment of trans kids: that they’re an unfortunate rarity, which should be tolerated but not celebrated. Against such a threadbare defense of trans existence, the violently committed anti-trans right will surely win.

Liberals putatively opposed to the GOP’s draconian anti-trans onslaught should take heed of the judges’ rulings on trans youth health care. All too many powerful liberal organs — the New York Times perhaps chief among them — have channeled Republican talking points by treating trans children as a site of peril, and gender-affirming treatment for kids as potentially too experimental.

In point after point, however, federal judges from Florida to Tennessee to Arkansas have agreed that arguments treating gender-affirming treatments for youths as untested and dangerous are, quite simply, not based in fact.

“What is clear is that before all kinds of judges, when these bans are tested by what the states are claiming is their evidence, they categorically fail,” Strangio told me. “What that means is that you have a popular discourse playing far more hostile to trans people, far more open to misinformation, than a federal court is at this stage.” Strangio added that “it would be helpful if the center left media were to then cover the cases, after having sparked fear everywhere.”

While I personally feel abortion raises moral questions of harm, which trans healthcare does not, I’ve come round to understanding why our struggles are linked. I can maintain that abortion is an ethically problematic choice in some circumstances, and also that it’s none of my business, let alone the government’s.

The great lesbian poet Minnie Bruce Pratt passed away on July 2. My mom-of-choice Roberta and I had the privilege of meeting her when she donated the books and papers of her late spouse, Leslie Feinberg, to the Sexual Minorities Archives in Holyoke. Pratt’s poetry collection Crime Against Nature, which had recently been reissued by Sinister Wisdom, described losing custody of her sons when she came out. I often think of her poem “This Is My Life You Are Talking About” when cis-het folks debate the “gay issue” or the “trans issue” as if we’re not in the room.

Need a minute to smile? Enjoy this AI-generated Elvis video from There I Ruined It.

Ricardians Redux

Richard III | Biography & Facts | Britannica

The most special of my special interests (and that’s saying a lot) from ages 11-15 was defending the innocence of Richard III. As you may remember from Shakespeare’s play, the conventional wisdom is that he murdered his nephews, the so-called Princes in the Tower, to secure his claim to the throne during the Wars of the Roses. Not that it did him much good, since he only reigned from 1483-85 before being killed in battle by Henry Tudor, future King Henry VII and grandpa of Queen Elizabeth I.

At a time when my peers were wearing Canal Jeans Co. buttons on their acid-washed denim jackets, I sported a pin with the last Plantagenet King’s haunted visage. We were big mystery buffs in my household, with a preference for British Golden Age authors like Agatha Christie, Nicholas Blake, John Dickson Carr, and Josephine Tey. In the summer of 1983, or thereabouts, I read Tey’s The Daughter of Time, in which her series detective is laid up with an injury and entertains himself by reconsidering King Richard’s alleged crime as a cold case. His quixotic mission became mine as well.

Why Richard? Besides my love for all things related to medieval and Renaissance England, I was drawn to imaginary men who needed me. It was several decades before I heard the words “hurt/comfort trope” but that was my jam back then. I wanted to be the one who rescued the persecuted and stood by the slandered. It was romantic in the courtly sense, where Richard was concerned, not in the boy-meets-girl sense. I’m trying not to be embarrassed by how common this fantasy is. Our devotion was pure. That deserves more than a cringe.

Perhaps there was also some trans component to my identification with male characters who were maligned for a disability. Richard’s supposed hunchback, actually scoliosis, factors heavily in Shakespeare’s portrayal of him as a monstrous villain. From the Elephant Man to the Phantom of the Opera, I resonated with the storyline of having a physical secret that might make you unlovable. The irony of having to conceal yourself in order to be seen as the person you really were.

(According to the website of the Richard III Society–about which more in a moment–there’s a 17-book manga series, Requiem of the Rose King, depicting Richard as intersex. We trans’ed another one, boys!)

What you have to understand is that pre-Internet, I had zero understanding of the dynamics of fandom. If my mother, who believed herself to be the reincarnation of Queen Elizabeth I, had allowed me to take an interest in contemporary pop culture, perhaps I would have become a D&D dungeon master or a Trekkie, and learned that it was normal to have passionate opinions about incredibly niche topics. Instead, I was wounded by the lack of community around anything that was precious to me. Sometimes this feeling still saps my motivation as a writer, making the usual rejections feel too fraught with the old unmet need to be heard (as I continue to write weird unmarketable shit because normalcy is boring).

So that’s why I re-joined the Ricardians.

You see, I am not the only person out there with an inexplicable mystical connection to some guy who died 500 years ago. Last week I saw the movie The Lost King, a dramatization of amateur historian Philippa Langley’s discovery of King Richard’s skeleton in a municipal parking lot in Leicester. A victim of employment discrimination for her chronic fatigue syndrome, Langley saw the Shakespeare play and resented the ableism in his portrait of the king. This set her on a decade-long quest (condensed in the film for dramatic purposes) to find his body, which professional historians had believed was thrown in a river and lost. What I loved about the movie was her heartfelt personal relationship to Richard as a sort of spiritual guide or companion–the way I talk to my novel characters–and how she followed her intuition, as well as her meticulous research, to find what everyone else had overlooked. All these years later, she still believed it was important to set the record straight and give him an honorable burial. There’s something magical about that, a kind of ancestral healing.

Langley followed up with the Missing Princes Project: “a Cold Case History investigation employing the same principles and practices as a modern police investigation…employing forensic analysis of the people and events surrounding the disappearance of the sons of Edward IV…[and] initiating searches for neglected archival material in the UK and overseas,” according to her website, Revealing Richard III.

Never one to pass up a distraction from my dozen existing projects, I emailed them to volunteer my help. The US coordinator says they’re almost ready to release their final report, but the Richard III Society may need my proofreading and editing expertise for their newsletters. Expect more medieval trivia on this blog in coming months.

I Want To Believe - X Files - Sticker | TeePublic

Another fandom I missed the boat on.

April Links Roundup: A Recipe for Transformation

Tonight being the first night of Passover, let’s start off with Rachel Meirs’ graphic memoir “Ruth’s Kitchen,” published in Jewish Currents in 2021. It reminded me of a 1960s cookbook that my husband’s paternal grandma passed on to me, shortly before she died. (This was when I still had time to cook.) The recipes leaned heavily on frozen and canned ingredients, still considered a gee-whiz novelty rather than a target of hipster disdain. Pre-packaged ingredients must have felt like a promise that our moms and grandmas could have it all–a modern woman’s freedom from drudgery as well as the tradition of nurturing our families in the kitchen. Tonight, my mom-of-choice, who taught me to cook, will host a small seder with supermarket rotisserie chicken and non-alcoholic fancy grape juice for our friend in 12-step. Togetherness is what counts.

Liberation is on the menu for us pandemic transitioners. At LitHub, Rafael Frumkin’s essay “The Beauty of the Trans Body” pays tribute to the transmasculine elders who showed him the way forward when his chest dysphoria became comprehensible to him during 2020 lockdown.

Breasts always seem to belong to everyone but the wearer. Freud tells us that infants’ polymorphous sexuality is first expressed through their oral attachment to the breast, leading them to identify their mother as their first external “love object.” Media tells us that breasts are among the most important thing any woman can have, and that they should be full and perky and grabbable. Breasts nurture infants, feed sexual desires: nipples are sucked for both milk and pleasure. One can start to feel like a Christmas tree, branches sagging with ornaments for others to ogle and touch and break.

(All the love to my husband, who sent me this article shortly after my surgery–because even though we live in the same house, we communicate through screens like a pair of nerds.)

Hat tip to poet friend Lauren Singer, on whose Facebook page I discovered the artist Shona McAndrew. This Vulture article, “An Artist Reckons with the Fat Body,” profiles McAndrew’s sensual, dreamy series of nude self-portraits.

“As a fat woman,” Shona McAndrew explains in the catalogue for her new show, “I came to believe that I didn’t deserve intimacy, shouldn’t express happiness in the presence of others, and certainly shouldn’t be proudly showing my large naked body to anyone.”…

In Too Deep depicts McAndrew guiding the finger of her lover into her belly button as she fondles one of her breasts. Flesh abounds, falls, forms a landscape. She peers down the visage of her own body while withdrawing into her psyche. The penetration echoes Jesus guiding the finger of Thomas into his open wound.

Hold You Tight features a seated McAndrew as she embraces Stuart, her partner, who is standing. Her eyes are closed; she seems to be partaking of a world of sensual and spiritual sustenance — like she’s savoring the first taste of something she’s denied herself until now.

In Harvard Magazine, Lydialyle Gibson profiles the formerly incarcerated artist Jesse Krimes. In 2017, Krimes and Russell Craig co-founded Right of Return USA, which offers artist fellowships to other ex-prisoners. The article showcases the resourcefulness and determination of people who desperately need tools of self-expression, but are denied these materials by the carceral system:

Behind bars, art became his escape. Krimes studied philosophical texts—Agamben’s The Kingdom and the Glory, Foucault’s Discipline and Punish, Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth—and developed new artistic techniques, foraging for whatever creative supplies he could find. He made a series of small portraits using newspaper mug shot images, playing cards, and thin slices of soap. His monumental opus, which took three years to produce, was a 40-foot mural made from prison-issue bedsheets, plastic spoons, New York Times clippings, and hair gel from the commissary. Because the artwork itself was contraband, Krimes had to smuggle it out by mail, piece by piece. “It was almost like sending out pieces of myself out of the prison walls,” he says in the film. After his release, he was able to assemble the bedsheets into a whole for the first time: a colorful meditation on heaven, hell, sin, redemption, and purgatory.

I just loved this flash fiction by Christopher Hyun, “A Taxonomy of Gay Animals,” in Electric Lit. It’s one of those clever pieces that uses humor and surrealism to capture an experience more accurately than literal explanation ever could.

In my world, we have an animal code. It goes way beyond the generic gay bears and gay otters. There are gay fish, gay hippos, and gay raccoons…

Like raccoons, owls are more active at night than during the day. Owls are always asking who. Who’s going to be there? Who’s paying? Who’s lost weight? Who’s more popular? And when you answer them, they act like they don’t care. They can turn their necks almost all the way around. They also eat mice.

You know that guy.

Since April is Autism Awareness Month, whatever the heck that means, I recommend poet Cyrée Jarelle Johnson’s 8-minute TED Talk about “autism neutrality”. Let’s stop scaremongering about autism and treat it as an equally valid cognitive style, with its own strengths and challenges.

After 500 years, the Catholic Church has disavowed the “doctrine of discovery,” which had encouraged European Christians to colonize and convert Indigenous people in Africa and the Americas. (Hat tip to Lakota People’s Law Project for the link.) In the UK newspaper The Globe and Mail, Kent McNeil calls out the “err, that was other people” tone of the Vatican’s course-correction. FYI, papal bulls are like official position papers from the Pope.

Though the Church claims that the bulls were “manipulated for political purposes by competing colonial powers in order to justify immoral acts against indigenous peoples that were carried out, at times, without opposition from ecclesiastical authorities,” the Vatican is wrong to depict itself as being so passive. The bulls empowered Portugal and Spain to further the Church’s Christianizing policy by forcibly acquiring the lands of Indigenous peoples and subjecting them to the control of the Catholic monarchs of these countries.

The 1455 bull Romanus Pontifex, which relates to West Africa, is one document mentioned in the statement. In that bull, Pope Nicholas V asserted that, as successor of St. Peter and vicar of Christ, he had a responsibility to Christianize the world. Toward this end, he authorized King Alphonso V of Portugal “to invade, search out, capture, vanquish, and subdue all Saracens and pagans whatsoever, and other enemies of Christ wheresoever placed,” seize their property, and “reduce their persons to perpetual slavery.”

The 1493 bull Inter Caetera, authorizing Spain’s colonization of the Americas, starts by asserting that the highest-ranking work of the pope is that “the Christian religion be exalted and be everywhere increased and spread, that the health of souls be cared for and that barbarous nations be overthrown and brought to the faith itself.” After praising King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella for recovering “Granada from the yoke of the Saracens” and for discovering lands previously unknown to Europeans, Pope Alexander VI’s decree purports to grant the Catholic monarchs “all rights, jurisdictions, and appurtenances, all islands and mainlands found and to be found, discovered and to be discovered,” west of a line in the Atlantic Ocean from pole to pole 100 leagues west of the Azores and Cape Verde Islands. The stated purpose of this grant is religious – namely, to spread the Christian faith and convert the inhabitants of these distant lands.

Colonization was not an accidental distortion of Church doctrine but an official policy. But I guess when you pretend to be infallible, it’s hard to repent.