Showing posts with label Isabel Schechter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isabel Schechter. Show all posts

Saturday, December 21, 2024

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2024, pt. 12: Isabel Schechter

 

 

 


 

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2024

by Isabel Schechter

 

I am a creature of habit, and, once I discovered science fiction and fantasy books as a young person, it made up most of my reading. In the past few years, though, I have tried to expand the genres of books I read. The problem I ran into was not finding books to read, but rather figuring out the meaning of the various labels used to describe them.

Science fiction, fantasy, women’s fiction, historical fiction, literary fiction, chick lit, and romance are just some of the types of fiction I have read this past year. But what do all those labels really mean? Are you allowed to read women’s fiction or chick lit if you’re not a woman? Isn’t all fiction that is written in or about the past, historical? What makes literary fiction more literary than any other type of fiction? Does it count as romance if it’s not Harlequin, Hallmark, or features a bare-chested man on the cover? And what the heck is romantasy?

Thankfully, I belong to several book clubs that help me make sense of some of these labels. The newest (and most surprising to me and everyone who knows me) is a romance book club. It is this book club that has taught me the importance and utter foolishness of labels.

Sometimes labels are good, like when you’re looking for a superhero book to give a five-year-old for their birthday, you go to the section in the bookstore that is labeled for children instead of the section labeled gardening. But sometimes labels can get in the way of finding a good book, especially when a label keeps you from trying something new because that genre is frowned upon or dismissed as not serious or quality reading, as is the case with romance.

Books labeled as romance feature a romance between characters in the book, but other types of fiction also include a romance between characters, yet they are not labeled as romance. How much romance is required for a book to qualify as romance? How much romance is too much for a book to be labeled as anything else? Should I buy a book cover so that no one will see the bare-chested man on the cover and dismiss my reading as inferior?

What I have learned from expanding the types of books I read is that good books are good books, regardless of genre, just as bad books can also come in a variety of genres. So yes, I read romance novels, and I like them. I suggest you branch out and read other genres than your usual ones, possibly even romance novels. You might be pleasantly surprised at just how much you like books with bare-chested men on the cover.

 

 Isabel’s essays on race and representation in SF/F have been published in Invisible 2: Essays on Race and Representation in SF/F, Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy, and several volumes of the WisCon Chronicles; and she is Co-Editor of The WisCon Chronicles Volume 12: Boundaries and Bridges. She is Puerto-Rican, feminist, child-free, Jewish, vegetarian, and a Midwesterner living in Southern California, and embraces the opportunity to represent the fact that no one of those identities excludes any of the others.



Monday, December 25, 2023

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2023, pt. 19: Isabel Schecter



 

Libraries and Books in 2023

by Isabel Schechter

 

 

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

For those of you who took family car trips when you were younger, or those of you riding in a carpool to WisCon, the wait to get to your destination on those trips was interminable. Time moved at a glacial pace. Fast forward to today when the book you have on hold at the library still hasn’t come in, and the wait is also interminable. Time is once again moving at a glacial pace.

Rather than waiting for the book, you could just buy it (from an independent bookstore, of course) and get it today, but that may not be a financial option for you. If it’s a popular book, friends who may own the book might be reading their copy and can’t lend it to you until they are done, and your friends who don’t own it may be the very people who have a hold on a library copy and are in line ahead of you.

On the other end of the time spectrum, your book club is meeting in just two weeks and you still haven’t even gotten the book, and who knows if you will be able to finish reading it before the book club happens? Apparently, time can move at a glacial pace and so fast that it feels like you can’t keep up with it. How is this possible?

Well, as a science fiction fan, I am used to time running in multiple directions at multiple speeds simultaneously, so I do the best I can to manage my impatience with whichever way time is flowing by having library accounts in multiple library systems.

I have an account with my San Diego city library system as well as the San Diego county library system (having both is permitted). In addition, although I am not a resident of Los Angeles, I am a California resident, and the Los Angeles city library system grants accounts to all California residents, so I also have an account with the Los Angeles city library system.

 My city library system has a shamefully small budget for books and materials (City Councilmembers, I’m looking at you), which means there is a limited selection of books, and a small number of copies of the books that are available. My county library system has approximately three times the city system’s books and materials budget (governing done right), which means my chances of getting a book in a reasonable amount of time are much higher with the county than the city.

Sadly though, even with two systems, there are still not enough copies of all the books I want. But I won’t let underfunded library systems stand between me and my book club, so when I was recently in Los Angeles, I brought my driver’s license and a utility bill, and viola, I now have a Los Angeles city library account! This doesn’t mean that I am going to drive two hours to go to LA every time I need a book, but I can put eBooks on hold and have an even greater chance of getting the books I need.

So the next time you need a book and can’t get it from your local library, or your other local library, or your other not-local library, contact your elected officials and invite them to join your book club that’s happening in two weeks. And be sure to pick a book that has 347 holds on it.

Here are some suggestions of books I’ve gotten from the library:


Book Lovers by Emily Henry

 

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson

 

The Last Chance Library by Freya Sampson


The Library of the Unwritten
by A.J. Hackwith

 

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

 

 

 Happy reading.

 Isabel’s essays on race and representation in SF/F have been published in Invisible 2: Essays on Race and Representation in SF/F, Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy, and several volumes of the WisCon Chronicles; and she is Co-Editor of The WisCon Chronicles Volume 12: Boundaries and Bridges. She is Puerto-Rican, feminist, child-free, Jewish, vegetarian, and a Midwesterner living in Southern California, and embraces the opportunity to represent the fact that no one of those identities excludes any of the others.


 

Friday, December 30, 2022

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2022, pt. 23: Isabel Schechter

 

 


Reading to Connect

by Isabel Schechter

 

 

I started a book club at my local Puerto Rican culture club this year and have been enjoying learning about and getting closer to my heritage while expanding the type of reading I do.

 Everyone in our group is Puerto Rican, but we all come from diverse backgrounds. We are split roughly in half by gender, and there is a 20-year range in our ages. Some of us were born in Puerto Rico, some were born on the mainland, some started in one of the two and moved to the other or keep bouncing between the two, and some of us have never visited the island. And, like any group of Puerto Rico-loving puertorriqueños, some of us are pro-independence, others pro-statehood, and some want the island to continue as a Commonwealth. Our differences have made for some very interesting discussions.

 We read works with a Puerto Rican-related theme: works set in Puerto Rico, about Puerto Rico, or written by a Puerto Rican author. We have read a variety of genres: fiction (historical, contemporary, fantasy, and literary) and non-fiction (memoir). When I first started the group, I wasn’t sure what kind of books we would read or if they would appeal to non-Puerto Ricans, but as I’ve told friends outside of our group about the books we’ve read, it is clear that they touch a chord even with people who have no connection to Puerto Rico.

 

The book club’s first selection was the historical fiction novel, The Taste of Sugar by Marisel Vera. The novel tells the story of a young couple who were a part of los hambrientos, the thousands of poor Puerto Ricans whose lives were upended after the Spanish-American War and the San Ciriaco Hurricane of 1899, and who were recruited to work in the sugar plantations of Hawaii.

 Lured by promises of a better life, many died due to the inhuman conditions on the packed ships before making it to Hawaii. Of the ones that survived, they realized once they arrived that not only were the promises of good housing, schools for their children, and a decent wage all lies, but they were treated as slaves.

 It was difficult for us to read about the way these Puerto Ricans were treated, especially given that Puerto Rico’s population comes from a mix of not just Spanish and Indigenous Taino people, but also enslaved Africans. None of us in the book club had any idea about this period of our own people’s history and wanted to learn more about it.


  Our next selection was Velorio by Xavier Navarro Aquino, which tells the story of a fictional group of survivors of the 2017 Hurricane Maria. A velorio is a wake, the kind that precedes a funeral, and that is very much the setting created by Aquino when showing the despair and hopelessness created by the destruction that leads to the death of thousands of people on the island.

 The group of survivors escape the lack of food, electricity, and water and trek to the mountains hoping for refuge. Instead, the charismatic leader of the promised utopia gradually becomes a dictator and molds the children in the community into a maniacal Lord of the Flies-style gang to help him keep his hold on power.

 The resilience of the group of survivors from helpless victims to individuals taking back their agency and power to build back their island resonated with all of us in the book club, whether we had loved ones who lived through the tragedy of Hurricane Maria or watched in horror while our people were left to die by the ineptitude and lack of concern in the United States’ response to the humanitarian crisis on the island. The book sparked painful conversations about Puerto Rico’s treatment by the United States as little more than a colonial possession whose people were not considered to be worth saving.

 

Our third book was the National Book Award Finalist, The House on the Lagoon by Rosario Ferré. The novel is a beautifully told story of successive generations of a wealthy family in Puerto Rico at the turn of the 20th century. The novel shows how the different generations of the family are affected by some of the many divisions in the lives of Puerto Ricans, most of which continue to this day.

 The patriarchal system that allows men to be unfaithful yet punish their wives if they try to speak their minds or exercise any decision-making for themselves is questioned as we see how the women in the family are expected to live under the rule of the men in their lives.

 The concept of a parent’s absolute authority and a child’s duty to their family comes into conflict just as the Puerto Rican pro-independence and pro-statehood movements tear families apart. Some of this conflict derives from class distinctions between those born in Spain and those born on the island and the struggle to escape the restrictions these roles place on the opportunities available to the characters. Race and colorism are also inescapable factors in how people are treated and allowed to be recognized as members of the family.


Our book club then explored differences between living on the island and living on the mainland with When I was Puerto Rican by Esmeralda Santiago, the first of three installments of a memoir of Santiago’s life. It is a coming-of-age story that starts in Puerto Rico when Esmeralda is six years old and ends after she moves to New York and becomes a high school graduate.

Esmeralda struggles to discover who she is and her place in the world as well as in relationships with her family, friends, and new cities that she is forced to move to as her family’s situation demands. Her father’s philandering, her mother’s ambivalent treatment of her children, her siblings’ need to be cared for, and the relief and guilt she feels for having been one of the siblings who were able to stay with their mother while her other siblings had to stay back in Puerto Rico with their father, all clash at various times. Esmeralda’s experiences elicited tales from each of us in the book club about our own childhoods and how we identified with aspects of Esmeralda’s life, and how that influenced how we judged Esmeralda’s parents. Several of us went on to read the other installments of Santiago’s memoir.

 

A Fierce and Subtle Poison by Samantha Mabry was a way for me to sneak some genre reading into the book club. The poison in the story is Isabel, a green-skinned child born of a curse and hidden away in her family’s house. Several of the neighborhood busybody viejitas gossip about the tragic story from back in the day when the girl’s beautiful mother married a White man, causing the curse.

 Seeming to repeat her mother’s mistakes, Isabel begins a strange relationship with Lucas, the White son of an American mainlander who is busier building resorts for tourists than he is with parenting. Lucas throws a note with a scribbled wish over the garden wall hoping the stories that the cursed girl can grant wishes are true. He then starts receiving notes from Isabel in his hotel room. Lucas and Isabel join together to find out if the curse is responsible for a rash of disappearances of local girls and find answers that they weren’t expecting and that change both of their lives in ways they couldn’t have imagined.

 Although many of us laughed and told stories of busybody viejitas in our own lives, we also discussed how far parents will go for their children and the morality of their actions, especially when others have to be sacrificed to achieve the parents’ goals.

We then read A Woman of Endurance by Dahlma Llanos-Figueroa. This was another historical fiction novel, this time giving us an insight into the Puerto Rican Atlantic slave trade. It was the most emotionally difficult book our group read.


 The main character, Pola, is an enslaved African woman who is used for breeding purposes. Pola tries unsuccessfully to escape after yet another child is taken from her, and she is then savagely beaten and sold to a different plantation.

 Life on the second plantation was a particular point of disagreement among members of the book club. Although we all wanted a better life for Pola, the benign, and even kind treatment of the plantation owners Llanos-Figueroa presents can be seen as a fulfilment of our hopes for Pola or the author’s attempt to pretend that there were places where slavery was not a heinous crime, but an institution that had some redeeming aspects.

 Reviews of the book are positive, and one even says it “will resonate with readers of strong African American feminist narratives like those of Toni Morrison and Ntozake Shange.” I am still torn between thinking the novel is slavery apologism or a heart-wrenching tale of one woman’s struggle to make a life for herself by taking what happiness she can from a system that tries but ultimately fails to break her spirit.

 Our group has not yet finalized our list of books to read in 2023 but this coming year’s selections will dwell less on Puerto Rico’s unfortunate history and more about the joys of being Puerto Rican. I look forward to sharing the list with readers who may not be Puerto Rican but who are interested in learning more about La Isla de Encanto.

 

 


 Isabel’s essays on race and representation in SF/F have been published in Invisible 2: Essays on Race and Representation in SF/F, Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy, and several volumes of the WisCon Chronicles; and she is Co-Editor of The WisCon Chronicles Volume 12: Boundaries and Bridges. She is Puerto-Rican, feminist, child-free, Jewish, vegetarian, and a Midwesterner living in Southern California, and embraces the opportunity to represent the fact that no one of those identities excludes any of the others.



 

 

Thursday, December 31, 2020

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2020, pt. 32: Isabel Schechter




The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2020
by Isabel Schechter



This year’s COVID-19 pandemic and subsequent lockdowns left me needing to distract myself from the situation by reading and watching either very light entertainment to cheer me up, or very thought-provoking reading and viewing to engage me deeply enough that I could almost forget the pandemic.

Oona Out of Order by Margarita Montimore was an interesting journey through Oona’s life as she tries to figure out who she is. Similar to how the pandemic has rendered time meaningless (March was 47 years ago, correct?), Oona experiences each year of her life out of sequence; she is 19 years old one year, 51 the next, and 27 the following year. Following, or not, Oona’s feeling of never knowing what comes next in life was a distraction from my own frustration with the endless limbo of never knowing when the world will emerge from quarantine.

I thought I would hate Hollow Kingdom by Kira Jane Buxton because the protagonist is a crow. I have never liked anthropomorphized animals in novels, and I was not looking forward to having to see life from the point of an animal. It turned out Shit Turd isn’t that bad of a crow and is a pretty good MoFo. The zombie apocalypse is really just there to serve as a catalyst for the growth Shit Turd and the world go through.

In Yōko Ogawa’s Memory Police, the dystopia is not the result of a cataclysmic event, but rather a series of small acts committed by individuals upon themselves. When everyone wakes up one day knowing birds have disappeared, they go outside and confirm there are no birds anywhere. When books disappear, people don’t just wake up knowing it, but they then take their books to be burned, lest the Memory Police arrest them for keeping the memory of books alive. The line between a totalitarian state stripping away individual rights and people colluding in their own destruction had a similar feel to 1984’s dictionary project and to today’s headlines.

Two nonfiction books that gave me hope were Big Friendship by Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman, and Text Me When You Get Home by Kayleen Schaefer. Both books serve to refute society’s premise that a romantic relationship is more important than and takes precedence over non-romantic friendships. Women’s friendships are presented as being just as important, and even more so, and deserve the same recognition and benefits. Imagine if people were as supportive of you when you break up with a friend as when  you break up with a romantic partner. Or if funeral leave for “immediate family” included your “chosen” family, or couples’ counseling for you and your bestie was covered by insurance. I want to live in a world that recognizes the importance of the relationships discussed in these books.

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall has received a lot of attention this year, and rightly so. For too long, mainstream (White women’s) feminism has focused on increasing and advancing opportunities for (mostly middle-class White) women, and Kendall shreds the privilege underlying the disregard for the rights or even survival of women of color. As a woman of color and as someone who grew up on food stamps, I found myself nodding along and wanting to send a copy of this book to every White woman I know.

Movies seemed like too much of a time commitment to any subject that was too taxing, so this year I watched mostly light and fluffy rom-coms, or else movies where the good guys drive fast, blow things up, and save the world. With both types of movies, there was a happy ending to distract me from real life.

My television watching, however, was mostly deep, dark, or depressing, and even downright terrifying. I read the Watchmen graphic novel years ago and saw the original movie, both of which were dark and not exactly my preference in superhero movies, but I appreciated the complexity of an anti-hero story. The television version of Watchmen is set after the events of the original Watchmen and goes beyond just an anti-hero tale. The series opens with the Tulsa Massacre to let you know right away that this will not be an easy series to watch. Good guys doing bad things, vigilantes working as law enforcement, and non-existent civil liberties are only a few of the problematic elements of the society. The fact that this was not set in some far-distant future imagined dystopia but what could very well be this country in a few short years was what made it terrifying.

The CGI version of Watership Down was disturbing as well. I did not come across the book until I was an adult, but I knew that it was not a pre-teen bunny rabbit adventure book, no matter what age group it was marketed to. This series is darker than I remember, and there are several scenes and issues tackled that should come with content warnings. It was excellently done, which only makes it hit you harder.

On a lighter note, the Good Place was a joy to watch. Janet. Need I say more? Well, for those who haven’t seen the series, it takes place in the afterlife, where you can live in a mansion, take flying lessons (à la angel wings, not airplanes), and eat all the frozen yogurt your little heart desires. In reality, the show sneakily leads you through a course on philosophy and the idea of good and evil while making you cheer for its characters, each endearing in their own special way.


Upload
also dealt with the afterlife, but in a decidedly less cheerful fashion. In the future, you can pay to have your consciousness uploaded into a virtual reality so you can live forever. The more money you spend, the bigger the data plan that maintains your afterlife. Nathan is very lucky that his ultra-rich girlfriend Ingrid is footing the bill for his comfortable lifestyle, except of course when he doesn’t behave like she wants him to, and she cuts his allowance for the extras that aren’t included in the plan (think cruise ship). Add to this Nathan’s growing feelings for his “Angel,” the customer service agent assigned to help him transition to his virtual life. Upload makes you think about how you define living, how power dynamics affect relationships, and the inescapability of consumerism even after death.

Living with Yourself makes you think about how you define yourself. Are you the real you, or is the clone of you the real you? When Miles undergoes a procedure that is supposed to improve his life, he instead finds out he has been cloned, leading to an existential competition between himself and his clone even as he recognizes that his clone is an improved version of himself. Or is he?

I don’t know if I will use books and television to escape or distract me from the pandemic in 2021, but I’m currently reading two books and following three television shows, and I expect I will likely do more of the same next year.



 Isabel’s essays on race and representation in SF/F have been published in Invisible 2: Essays on Race and Representation in SF/F, Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy, and several volumes of the WisCon Chronicles; and she is Co-Editor of The WisCon Chronicles Volume 12: Boundaries and Bridges. She is Puerto-Rican, feminist, child-free, Jewish, vegetarian, and a Midwesterner living in Southern California, and embraces the opportunity to represent the fact that no one of those identities excludes any of the others.