Showing posts with label Samuel R. Delany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Samuel R. Delany. Show all posts

Monday, April 20, 2015

Stories for Chip


An indiegogo campaign to support Stories for Chip: A Tribute to Samuel R. Delany begins today. Just to give you an idea of how fabulous (perhaps even kick-ass) this anthology is, I'll post the table of contents below. I'll also note that the editors are Nisi Shawl and Bill Campbell, and that several other Aqueductistas either have pieces in the book or are  providing special perks to donors. Go here to get all the details:  https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/stories-for-chip-a-tribute-to-samuel-r-delany




THE TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction by Kim Stanley Robinson
Eileen Gunn   Michael Swanwick and Samuel R. Delany at the Joyce Kilmer Service Area, March 2005
Nick Harkaway  Billy Tumult
devorah major   Voice Prints
Isiah Lavender, III   Daily Encounters: Or, Another Reason Why I Study Race and Racism in Science Fiction
Anil Menon   Clarity
Ellen Kushner   When Two Swordsmen Meet
Chesya Burke  For Sale: Fantasy Coffin (Ababuo Need Not Apply)
Haralambi Markov   Holding Hands with Monsters
Carmelo Rafala   Song for the Asking
Kit Reed   Kickenders
Walidah Imarisha   Walking Science Fiction: Samuel Delany and Visionary Fiction
Alex Jennings   Heart of Brass
Claude Lalumière   Empathy Evolving as a Quantum of Eight-Dimensional Perception
Jewelle Gomez   Be Three
Ernest Hogan   Guerrilla Mural of a Siren's Song
Hal Duncan   An Idyll in Erewhyna
L. Timmel Duchamp   Real Mothers, a Faggot Uncle, and the Name of the Father: Samuel R. Delany's Feminist Revisions of the Story of SF
Junot Díaz   Nilda
Benjamin Rosenbaum   The First Gate of Logic
Thomas M. Disch   The Master of the Milford Altarpiece
Sheree Renée Thomas   River Clap Your Hands
Roz Clarke   Haunt-type Experience
Fábio Fernandes   Eleven Stations
Kai Ashante Wilson   "Legendaire"
Michael Swanwick   On My First Reading of The Einstein Intersection
Kathryn Cramer   Characters in the Margins of a Lost Notebook
Vincent Czyz   Hamlet's Ghost Sighted in Frontenac, KS
Tenea D. Johnson   Each Star a Sun to Invisible Planets
Alex Smith   Clones
Geetanjali Dighe   The Last Dying Man
Geoff Ryman   Capitalism in the 22nd Century
Nalo Hopkinson & Nisi Shawl   Jamaica Ginger
Chris Brown  Festival

Sunday, September 14, 2014

"Real Mothers"

Last summer, Cruising the Disciplines: A Symposium on Samuel R. Delany, edited by Kenneth R. James, appeared as an issue of Annals of Scholarship. This volume was meant to be a proceedings of a symposium on Delany's work held in Buffalo about a decade ago now. I gave a paper at the symposium, which I expanded for the volume, titled "Real Mothers, a Faggot Uncle, and the Name of the Father: Samuel R. Delany's Feminist Revisions of the Story of SF." Since this paper hasn't appeared elsewhere, I've posted it on my website for those interested in reading it. At the heart of the paper is Delany's famous allusion to Jeanne Gomoll's "Open Letter to Joanna Russ" during an interview published in SF Eye in the 1990s.

You can find "Real Mothers..." at  http://ltimmelduchamp.com/Narratives%20of%20sf.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Inclusive Reviewing

This week is flashing past like a speeding bullet. Before it's completely gone, let me point you to a discussion (if you haven't already encountered it) of reviewing and issues of inclusivity, featured this week at Strange Horizons. It comes in three parts: Nisi Shawl's excellent essay Reviewing the Other: Like Dancing about Architecture; Samuel R. Delany's essay Escaping Ethnocentriticty?; and Inclusive Reviewing: A Discussion, by Samuel R. Delany, L. Timmel Duchamp, Fabio Fernandes, Andrea Hairston, Alex Dally MacFarlane, Sofia Samatar, and Aishwarya Subramanian.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Katherine MacLean talks to Chip Delany at Readercon

Scott Edelman has posted a video of Chip Delany's conversation with Katherine MacLean at Readercon. It's a very cool conversation, and includes an anecdote about what happened when John Campbell, having bought a story from one K. MacLean, whom he was elated to identify as an engineer, discovered that she was...a girl. 

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

"An instrospective future history"

Charlie Jane Anders has posted an interview with Samuel R. Delany at io9, taking about his forthcoming novel, "Through the Valley of the Nest of Spiders," about which he says

In a way, it's a very simple story, just about two working-class gay men, who meet when they're seventeen and nineteen, living on the coast of Georgia. They meet in 2007, and they stay together for the next 80 years, until one of them dies. Now you tell me whether that's science fiction or not. It definitely goes into the future, but on the other hand, they're absolutely out of the center of life, and things progress where they live, very very slowly. And they hear about things that are going on outside. They live on coastal part of Georgia in a little town that does go through cycles of being a semi-popular tourist spot in the summers, and then some years, nobody bothers to come at all. Eventually they move to a little island off the coast, and a little lesbian art colony starts up on the island. And they wonder if they're not being crowded out of their new home. But they're very fond of some of the people who live there, and some of the people who live there are very fond of them.

Now that's a description that hooks me.

Read the rest of the interview here.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Quote of the Day

Though I am black and gay, I am as much a racist, a sexist, an anti-Semite and a homophobe as any right-wing Christian bigot: I must be; it’s desperately important that I be; if I am ever to be able to talk to such people and effect some change in their beliefs and behavior, I have to be. To be what I would hastily call a civilized man with a civilized sense of democratic fairness is something you do on top of that. It’s a refinement of that, if you like. It only gets to seem, with the blindness to basic processes that comes from practice, something you do in place of it. But the other is always there. I’ve always talked with such people whenever I’ve had a chance. Even more so I listen to them—long and carefully, about their feelings and experiences, as well as many other topics—whenever I’ve found myself next to them in bars and on Greyhound buses or I have one as a seatmate on some air-bus to Detroit or Denver or San José, or when they’re taking out their kids in the park. But I will never be able to effect any meaningful change other than one or another form of terrorism by fooling myself into thinking I can do anything by “standing outside” some hegemony.

. . . . .

My beliefs are based on firm convictions about hegemonic discourse in general and even more on some theoretical precepts about what discourse actually is: It’s an associational linguistic structure that we all inhabit—specifically the one that constitutes the world. If we didn’t inhabit the same discourse, we couldn’t understand racist jokes when we heard them nor could we find others’ use of them offensive when the contradiction with our own situation is too painful to allow us to laugh. While the part of us that we consider our “self” may each be positioned differently within it, none of us is outside it. That is particularly true for those of us who are black, or disabled, or overweight, or Asian, or women, or gay, or part of whatever group we have been socially assigned to, because if we didn’t know that discourse down in our bones, we’d be dead.

People have noted for years how fast racism or sexism or classism reasserts itself as soon as a certain vigilance is allowed to relax. That’s because they don’t come in from outside. They are a necessary underlying factor within the egalitarian behavioral structure itself. Such a behavioral structure is not about ignoring differences. It’s about noticing them, valuing them, realizing that there are certain situations, cultural and defined, when these differences are important—and realizing that they are crashingly irrelevant in others. (That’s what valuing means.) If the structure of when and where they are relevant and irrelevant gets loose or generalized, you have racism, classism, and sexism all over again. If you’re lucky, you can enlist habit on your side, especially with the young. But (to put it in Lacanian terms) you’re still fighting the Imaginary—and history is always settling the Symbolic into the Imaginary, even as theory is always untangling the Imaginary into the Symbolic. Until the properly stabilizing Symbolic discourse is in place, you’re particularly vulnerable.
---Samuel R. Delany (from The Wiggle Room of Theory:

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Thinking about Writing

My very long
review
of Samuel R. Delany's About Writing is up now at Strange Horizons.

Friday, September 21, 2007

SF/F Influences on a Literary Writer

By Nancy Jane Moore

I haven't read Junot Diaz yet, but a profile on him that appeared in Thursday's Washington Post got me interested in his work. I am partly drawn to him because I get the impression that he is writing very honestly about what The Post interview called "the myth of hypermasculinity, the notion of how real men are supposed to behave."

He's also clearly an SF/F reader: In the interview he talks about how time travel stories do a better job of explaining the immigrant experience than realistic novels (he's Dominican by birth) and makes the observation, "Some of the myths that nation-states hold dear are no less absurd than Hobbits." Apparently he likes to throw Tolkien allusions into his work, too.

But perhaps what most intrigues me about Diaz are the other authors he loves. He discovered The Borrowers as a child and it changed his outlook. And his choice for the greatest living American writer? Samuel R. Delany. He specifically recommends Dahlgren.

How can I not read someone who likes the same writers I do? Alas, my local library seems to have only the audiobook of Diaz's new novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, and I'm damned if my first exposure to a new author is going to be through a recording.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

The Great Divide

By Nancy Jane Moore

Gwyneth Jones, ruminating on feminist SF and related subjects, wrote the following in a post on her blog called "Shora":

Meanwhile, my personal investigation kept coming up against the wall, the real problem. Speaking bitterness in a society that oppresses women, but doesn’t know it (such as the sf community, as addressed by “seventies feminism”), is brave, but it’s easy. Celebrating the feminine, the womb above the penis, motherhood, lesbian starship captains, sexy cyberbabes, is easy too. Though if you miss out the rip-roaring adventure fantasy you won’t catch many punters, and if [you] don’t, it’s hard to see how the story differs from any old sf, (where the feminine has always been celebrated, ask Robert Heinlein). It’s all easy, as long as la lutte continue. The wall is when economically liberated women, readers and writers, have to face the fact that when patriarchy goes, we all go.

No one is born a woman. No one is born a man. You can have an evil patriarchy that is secretly an evil matriarchy (which is too damn close to the situation in our world right now, IMO). You can have a corrupt liberation, informed by the “Spirit of the Beehive”, as Guevara says (cf Joanna Russ’s chilling, prescient, The Two Of Them). You can have a matriarchy that secretly, shamefully oppresses men, and denies it, and lies about it with every breath (cf The Gate Into Women’s Country, Divine Endurance etc etc). You can’t have the goals of feminism, if you want to keep the Great Divide. And we, we in the editorial and every other sense: everyone, including myself, we do not want to lose the Great Divide. [emphasis added]

(I recommend reading the whole post, and also her follow up "Shora Revisited" to get the full sense of Gwyneth's point.)

I hesitate to proclaim myself as different, to set myself apart from this we, and yet -- and yet -- every fiber of my being tells me that I would love to be rid of the Great Divide.

Oh, I'm not without qualms. Even the smallest change is hard and this one is a mind blower. While I've had no problems putting women into roles once reserved for men (starship captains and other rip-roaring adventures), I find that I run into limits when I try to put men in women's shoes -- literally: I cannot imagine men in high heels except as art or parody. (I am sure this is in part because I have so much personal contempt for high heels and the roles they represent.)

I came of age in a world of feminist change and have spent a lot of years doing things (practicing law, studying martial arts) once reserved for men. But I also live in a world in which calling a man a "girl" remains one of the worst possible insults. Shifting women into roles traditionally called male comes easy; opening the door the other way is trickier.

These days there's a lot of pseudoscience "explaining" brain differences between men and women, pushed of late by a book by a female author, Louann Brizendine, called The Female Brain. I have not read the book -- it sounded so absurd in the reviews I was unwilling to read it -- but the linguistic scholars on Language Log have critiqued the significant errors in the underlying research and the whole different brain movement very effectively. Their most recent post is here and a list of links on the subject is here.

That even women scientists are trying to build a career around the differences between the sexes presents a strong argument for Gwyneth's point that none of us welcome an end to the Great Divide.

The other night I was watching the new Doctor Who. Earth was being invaded by Cybermen, who proclaimed that they would solve all of Earth's inequities by making everyone a Cyberman -- no race, no gender, no difference.

I think people are afraid if we give up the Great Divide, we'll become Cybermen. And Cybermen are not only neuter; they're automatons.

I don't want to be a Cyberman, either, not because it would mean the end of the gender divide, but because Cyberman aren't individuals. And -- in this way I'm very much a product of my US upbringing -- I'm a great believer in individuality.

I don't think the core individual -- the person at the heart of each of us -- is male or female. When I'm dealing directly with my friends both male and female, I don't think of them as one thing or the other. But at a little more remove, I tend to make sex-linked distinctions. It's easier; it's an old habit.

In Timmi's interview with Chip Delany in the WisCon Chronicles, Chip puts it like this:

In my ideal world, there is one gender with infinite variations; not two with the variations limited to what lies between them.

That isn't Cybermen. That's a world of infinite individualism. I'm sure that frightens some people as much as the Cybermen do, but it appeals to me. Of course, in such a world, it would be very difficult to pigeonhole people by gender. Or, in fact, to pigeonhole them at all.

Personally, I am very tired of being pigeonholed. Today at least, when I'm sick of a world in which over-the-top myths about masculinity dominate international relations and corporate structures while equally overblown myths about female nurturing are used to limit the participation of women, I welcome the revolution.

To hell with la lutte. Vive le manque de difference.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Samuel R. Delany's Clarion West Reading

Tonight I had the pleasure of listening to Samuel R. Delany read from his new novel, Dark Reflections, at the Science Fiction Museum, the last of this year’s Clarion readings. The auditorium was packed to near-capacity with respectful devotees, and that heartened me, considering just how small turnouts to literary events can be here in Seattle. Before he began his reading, Therese Littleton presented him with a “glass brick” etched with his image, in honor of his membership in the Museum’s Science Fiction Hall of Fame. The image sat on the podium as he read, from my perspective looking like a static white miniature of his head (complete with wild beard) just below the real thing. He did not really notice the image before him until after he’d finished reading and put his glasses back on and announced he would be fielding questions. Then, before answering the first question, he frowned at it and said that he couldn’t talk with that thing looking at himand reversed it, so that the image now looked out at the audience.

Delany read four short selections from the first and third parts of the novel. The first selection was an exquisite extended image of (black gay poet) Arnold Hawley at sixty walking through in a shower of dogwood petals. The next selection recounted Arnold Hawley’s first fraught encounter with Bo’muh and the third selection Arnold’s telephone conversation with his Aunt Bea, hinging on the question, “Aunt Bea, do you know anything about sex?”; Delany’s rendition of these two passages made me shake with silent laughter. In the fourth selection, Arnold, now sixty-eight, walks in the fog on wet pavement and realizes that he’s wearing shoes with a crack in the right sole.

I can’t recall a reading flying by as swiftly as this one did. The genial warmth and humor Delany puts into his voice when reading narrative, the perfection in his portrayal of speech in dialogue, held me raptthough I, of course, knew how the story turns out! (During the Q&A someone asked him about that, and I was delighted to see him hold up a copy of the book and suggest she shouldn’t have much trouble finding one for herself.) Interestingly, Delany remarked before he began reading that one of his reasons for writing this particular book was his wish to show the creative writing students he teaches what the life dedicated to writing is actually like.

Some of the questions during the Q&A were predictable, though since Delany doesn’t give the same canned responses at every reading, the whole of the Q&A kept my interest. Here are a few of the dozen or so he fielded (questions and answers both paraphrased, not verbatim):

Did “sci-fi” have an influence on how you wrote Dark Reflections?

Science fiction, Delany replied, focuses on and analyzes the object. He noted that he brought an analysis of the object to bear in places in Dark Reflections and suggested that that is the kind of analysis that is native to science fiction.

What does science fiction do best that other fiction can’t do?

Science fiction, Delany replied, critiques the object, shows it in a different focus, distorts it, and by doing that teaches us about it. His answer was more expansive and elaborate, but that was the gist.

Why calloused feet and bitten fingernails?

This was a non-question, and was thus to my mind obnoxious. Delany replied shortly that he had a sexual thing for those characteristics. The guy (who was seated two rows behind me) pushed it, asking Why? What was it about those thingsat which Delany treated him to an amusing little spiel about all the straight men who after reading his autobiography just had to tell him about their sexual fetishes for women with this or that particular characteristic. Delany remarked that it might be a good thing for women to know how many different particular characteristics appealed to heterosexual men: that one type did not fit all.

Do you find the current political situation discouraging, with so many of things that had been accomplished being lost?

You have to expect that progress will be uneven, Delany said. Sometimes we move things forward, sometimes things slip back. But something important happened around 1968. Until then, mostly black people had been working for civil rights, and then the civil rights movement morphed into the fight against racism that was taken up by a wide spectrum of society; similarly mostly women had been working for women’s rights, and then the women’s liberation movement morphed into the fight against sexism that was taken up by a wide spectrum of society; just as the gay rights movement morphed into the fight against homophobia, also embraced by a wide spectrum of society.

Because this was the last question of the night, Delany didn’t unpack the implications he sees in this shift. He did remark that he had a set lecture he sometimes gives in reply to this question, but that there simply wasn’t time for him to give it tonight.

All in all a delightful, stimulating evening. If Delany ever reads in your city, I highly recommend going to hear him.