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SUPER SCIENCE

The Passage

By Justin Cronin
Ballantine Books

Trying to explain The Passage is like explaining Lost or the Harry Potter series to an outsider. You end up having to sum it up in the simplest terms: Lost is about people stuck on a really weird island, Harry Potter is about a boy defeating evil wizards, and The Passage is about a little girl trying to save the world. Since this is a review, I’ll go a bit deeper than that, but it might sound ridiculous, so bear with me.

The Passage starts with a military experiment gone wrong. This experiment created beings that resemble vampires (don’t go out during the day, don’t age, feed on humans, etc.), and they have escaped. There’s a little girl, Amy, who was also a subject in the experiment, but who fared better than the others because she retained some of her humanity. The creatures are killing most of the U.S. population, and a man helps Amy escape. We jump forward a hundred years to a small settlement of survivors still trying to protect themselves against these creatures. It’s up to them and Amy to save what’s left of the country, perhaps the world.

No pat description can really do this book justice. The first part could have been a novel all on its own, and it probably would have been one of my favorites if it ended there. But as I kept reading, the storyline, character development, suspense, and surprises made the book unforgettable. Beyond that, there was the strength of the female characters, the significance of race—or lack thereof—in a society that believes they’re the last humans left, and the contemplation of how we pass down our history and what it means to future generations. All of this took me away from any traditional idea of sci-fi, fantasy, or trendy vampire lit to a look at what our culture is and what it could be.

I’ve read through negative reviews of this book, and while I can understand where others are coming from, I don’t agree. The biggest complaint I’ve read is that the book ends abruptly. That’s because this is the first book of three, and there’s more of this story to tell. Even then, The Passage easily stands alone because the first journey is complete by the end.

Another complaint is that while the first part of the book is beautifully written, it stumbles a bit after that. I agree that the first part is written much better than the rest, but it’s something I didn’t worry about as I let myself get into the story rather than focusing on the writing. After a hundred pages or so (a drop in the bucket for a book over 700 pages long), the story and the suspense carried me through to the end.

The best way I can sell this book is to admit that I could not put it down. Even when the story started to slow, even when I found myself awake at three o'clock in the morning with my fiancé groaning that I wasn’t asleep, even when I should have been eating food rather than words during my lunch break, I kept reading. It was hard to leave that world, even for a few hours. I finished all 700+ pages of The Passage in a week, and my only regret is not savoring it more.

I hope you aren’t intimidated by the page count, and I hope you’re not put off by the negative reviews, because this may end up being one of the best books you’ve read in a long time.

Review by frau sally benz

Florida Supercon - Doubletree Miami Airport Hotel and Convention Center: Miami, FL (6/18 – 6/20/2010)

The Florida Supercon was the last place I would expect to find empowerment for women—but I’d never been to a comic books convention before, let alone a convention that defines itself as a show for “fans of comic books, anime, animation, science fiction, fantasy, video games, horror, etc.” Anything a geeky heart desires.

Since I live in Miami, a city of fashionable sameness, it can be difficult to find alternatives to the mainstream culture. So I was convention curious. Yet all I knew about anime was what I’d seen on Adult Swim or the Syfy channel: doe-eyed, borderline pornographic girls in their miniskirts and ponytails. I can never get past the not-so-subtle little girl fetish. Change the channel, thanks.

Of course, there is the stereotype of the person who regularly watches Adult Swim—a pasty-faced, bespectacled, often bearded man-boy who lives in his mother’s living room—and hey, if we’re going the route of stereotypes, why not throw in Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons. That was my starting point for the Supercon.

Supercon is diverse compared to other conventions. I went with a friend, a veteran con goer. She spoke about how comic cons bring out collectors as well as kids, while anime cons appeal to the pink-haired teenagers. Florida Supercon had all of these audiences. It also had fans of yesteryear TV shows and films with actors like Dawn Wells (Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island), Tia Carrere (Wayne’s World), and Guest of Honor Richard Roundtree (Shaft). And if you wanted an autograph from a wrestler or former Playboy playmate, they were there too.

The convention schedule on Saturday offered a few women-related panels, where I hoped to observe how women and girls are represented at a con. First was the "Girl’s Guide to Con Going" with the female hosts of the Anime Addicts Anonymous podcast. This panel was my introduction, and I felt both out of place and at home. Out of place because the three women were decked out in wigs and costumes, and spoke another language with Dragon Ball Z, cosplay, and other con references:: “I need a new d20.” (Did con speak require a dictionary? Write it down, ask questions later.) I felt at home because these women also spoke a language in which I am fluent: feminism. I don’t know if that’s how they would define themselves, but they certainly had ideas that many feminists would support.

The women counseled the audience on not giving out too much information to people at conventions and creating a limited Facebook profile for con friends. At first, this seemed very Dateline NBC (read: obvious advice); then I noticed the young girls in the audience. Some were twelve or thirteen years old, maybe younger. Some of them were sitting alone. The three women on the panel looked like they were in their early twenties, and they acted as role models and mentors. How should you respond to a creepy con guy who wants to take your picture? Say no: “If that voice in your head says this is weird, listen to it.” I hadn’t expected this kind of talk at a comic book convention.

One of this panel’s best topics was how to create affordable and practical costumes. (Some context for the uninitiated: what you wear is a major part of conventions. Sometimes people dress as characters of their own gender, but attendees are just as likely to cross-dress.)The "Girl’s Guide to Con Going" was all about comfort in costuming; if you went wearing flats, that would be one less thing to worry about. Pack a change of clothes and double-sided tape. Practice poses in front of a mirror before the convention. “You may think something looks cool, but it doesn’t, and then you’re on YouTube,” said one panelist.

The panel also encouraged the audience not to live up to unrealistic portrayals of women when working on their costumes. Sexy girls are part of anime, like the female anime character featured on the back of the Florida Supercon program: Yoko from Gurren Lagann. She has red hair in sweeping ponytails, a skimpy maid costume, big boobs, a flat stomach, and a come-hither wink. The panelists offered the female audience validation: “That body type doesn’t fit into the real world! Anime is drawn; they aren’t based on real people. So, tailor your costume to whatever fits you.”

As far as their own costumes, the panelists were dressed as characters from Baccano! Nice Holystone wore an eye patch; Miria was a blonde in a red dress and opera gloves; and red-haired Ennis was dressed in a suit. Silly me. I had thought Ennis was Dana Scully from The X-Files.

The next women-related panel, "Meet The Roller Derby Girls," presented the South Florida skaters from the Gold Coast Derby Grrls. Roller derby is inclusive of both genders, in some respects; men can participate as referees, but only women can compete. Skaters recreate themselves into personas with names like Souljourner, Dela Ruthless, and Heinous Grace. One of the women, Caffeine Crash, explained the connection between roller derby and a comic book convention: “When you skate, it’s like an alter ego—like you’re putting on a character. But at the same time, that’s when you’re most yourself, with the war-paint and being kick-ass.”

While this is reminiscent of cosplay, that’s probably where the similarity ends. Roller derby is a fast-paced game where skaters often get injured—sprained shoulders and bruises are standard—so skaters learn to “fall small” and spend money on a good set of knee pads. The sport is one of the few outlets where women can be full-on aggressive. But what’s remarkable is how roller derby has become an international network of women who support each other and contribute to charitable causes. (The Derby Grrls have organized relief efforts for Haiti and collected supplies for people affected by the oil spill crisis in the Gulf.) The Gold Coast Derby Grrls have traveled nationwide for matches in Philadelphia and Oklahoma. Despite the competitive nature of the sport, other leagues will often show hospitality by giving their competitors a place to stay.

The last panel was on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and featured Georges Jeanty, the artist who worked on the season eight comic book. Jeanty’s previous work includes strong female characters like Wonder Woman and Razor. He considered what makes Buffy different: “Most female characters in comics are men drawn in female form. Buffy is independent and powerful, but still very much a girl.”

But what does it mean to be a girl? The first two panels had presented more than one definition. You could have comfort in your cosplay or you could be bruised up from roller derby. There are many ways to be an independent and powerful girl.

However, Jeanty’s point about the male influence on comic books was made evident by browsing the Florida Supercon's vendor and artist tables. Plenty of the female characters in comics and anime could have been featured in Playboy or Hustler. There was even a Typhoid Mary action figure with mechanical straitjacket and spread-eagle legs. What’s the message here—keep your women locked up and prone?

There were also empowering images to be found. The front cover of Derrick Fish’s The Wellkeeper made my friend stop at his table: “Look, she has a belly!” Zoe is the main character, a young girl with curves. The cover shows Zoe ascending into the sky out of the green earth, surrounded by a radiant light. A synopsis of the story suggests that Zoe is connected to a planetary life force, so there are definite mother-earth overtones. Her belly makes sense in that context, but she also represents a body type we don’t often see as heroic, and that acts as an alternative to depictions like Typhoid Mary.

Artist Juan Fontanez said he appreciated the presence and influence of female artists and collectors at Florida Supercon. This sentiment was also shared by Banky (V. Farano), who has sometimes been mistaken for a “convention girlfriend” instead of an artist. Yet Danielle Soloud, creator of the webcomic Life With Death, voiced the need for even more women in the industry. She said, “We should be able to get in there… boys and girls [can] make comics together!”

Younger fans have found interesting ways to deal with gender disparities. I asked a group of teens—one boy and three girls, aged twelve to eighteen—about what it’s like for a girl at these conventions. One girl responded, “It’s harder because of the costumes… sometimes it’s easier [for a girl] to be a guy.” She went into detail about how it costs less money and results in more fun if you're seen as a boy. The only difficulty was in binding down her chest, but the compliments made it seem worth it.

Another girl, who was dressed as Allen Walker from D.Gray-man, said some people didn’t recognize her as a girl in costume; instead, they just said she was a really good Allen. The boy was dressed as his own gender, with orange hair and a brown robe. He insisted that when a guy dresses as a girl, it was “just for laughs.”

Sure, Florida Supercon had women in tight-costumes, all boobs and high heels, and more than a few pasty-faced man-boys (even a few who could double as Comic Book Guy), but that stereotype is a very limited truth. Women artists and fans are claiming their place in the realm of comic books, anime, video games, and sci-fi while cosplay is expanding the continuum of gender expression. There is definitely the potential for empowerment at conventions like Florida Supercon; however, women and men should continue to voice the need for broader representations. For every Yoko, there should be a Zoe. Until then, women should keep attending these conventions and establishing a presence within this pop culture niche—so every girl can be her own superhero.

Review by Andrea Dulanto

Photo credit: Debbie Chamberlin

Xenogensesis II: Intergalactic Beings - Museum of Contemporary Art: Chicago, IL (4/30/2010)

I purchased a copy of Octavia Butler’s Bloodchild at a secondhand bookstore and let it rest on my shelf for years as next-to-read. Fortunately, it was in my bag when I was shuttled from the ER to a hospital for a week-long stay: I possessed a means of transport away from a battered attempt at sterility and the monotony of crisis to an intense, sparse yet beautifully rendered world. I was reading Octavia Butler. Therefore, when Nicole Mitchell’s jazz composition Xenogenesis II: Intergalactic Beings, a tribute to Octavia Butler, appeared on the program notice for Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art, I jumped at the chance to see it.

Ms. Mitchell and the Black Earth Ensemble presented this nine-part composition, the second part of a three-part contemplation of the unexpected result of nuclear conflagration, on a barren stage without sets or elaborate effects. As Mitchell is a noted visionary, it is not surprising that she chose to produce work inspired by the speculative author, nor is it surprising that the aural reverberations transported me just as much as Butler’s description of altered societies and beings. What did make me pause was the complete engagement that evolved between an almost full theater and the extremely innovative and almost alien sounds alternately squeaking, screaming, swelling, and rolling from the stage.

The composer and musicians came on to the stage half-draped in sheets of papery, crumpled chiffon over black clothing. White robes are conventionally associated with angels, but the intergalactic beings of the title have a more ominous mission: they seek to save the human species through abducting subjects for seduction and interbreeding. The themes of conquest and exploitation clearly mirror aspects of American history. However, these topics are presented as evocative echoes, not didactic hammer falls. The nine-movement piece is subtly wrought and ultimately powerful, starting with the stealing of our species and ending with inescapable metamorphosis. Xenogenesis manifests a haunting reminder of Octavia Butler’s verse: “All that you touch/You Change./ All that you Change/Changes you./ The only lasting truth/ is Change./ God/is Change.”

Review by Erika Mikkalo

Unfastened: Globality and Asian North American Narratives

By Eleanor Ty
University Of Minnesota Press

In a similar vein as Caroline Rody’s The Interethnic Imagination and Rocío Davis' Begin Here, the monograph Unfastened has been a treat to read for the simple fact that author Eleanor Ty forefronts a wide range of readings that demonstrate the continued evidence of the heterogeneity that embodies the field of Asian North American literature. Ty’s book is called unfastened, precisely because it is a descriptive that designates the continuing complexity that has been emerging with the textual terrains around concepts of mobility, displacement, and diaspora that make fastening Asian North American literature to any one place practically impossible.

In the primary texts that Ty so elegantly analyzes, multiple nations, multiple local spaces, and multiple subjectivities are always imagined, such that her readings flow contextually, specific to particular aesthetic forms and contexts, but always linked by the notion of “globality.” Ty is careful about her terminology. She purposefully does not use the term Asian American precisely because she carves out a specific place for Asian Canadian cultural production in her work, which has had a long history of being too reductively classified within Asian American more broadly.

She also distinguishes globality from the globalization, rendering globality the more salient feature of her critical reading practice precisely because it is more connected to issues of economic differentials and power inequities that arise as bodies, cultures, ideas, technologies, etc. migrate to new locations and establish new spatial configurations. As Ty clarifies, “Issues of globality include concern for earth and our environment, health and the spread of disease across national borders, the globalization of markets, and the production of goods.”

The wide range of primary text readings are truly astonishing and we see what a fan of Asian North American narrative Ty is as she meticulously crafts her analyses to continually point to the ways that Asian North American writers are thinking about globality and routing that issue directly within their textual terrains. Taken together, Ty concentrates on Brian Roley’s American Son, Han Ong’s Fixer Chao, Larissa Lai’s Salt Fish Girl, Hiromi Goto’s The Kappa Child, Ruth Ozeki’s All Over Creation, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s The Mistress of Spices, Sunil Kuruvilla’s Rice Boy, and Lydia Kwa’s This Place Called Absence, among others. Many of these authors are ones that have received very little critical attention, even though their works present such rich terrains upon which to consider the complexities of globalization.

While all the chapters provide sprightly interpretative readings in which texts cannot be fastened within one context or sociocultural moment, some standouts include chapter two’s “Recuperating Wretched Lives: Asian Sex Workers and the Underside of Nation Building” and chapter five’s “Shape-shifters and Disciplined Bodies: Feminist Tactics, Science Fiction, and Fantasy.” Given the astonishing range of writings being produced, Ty’s conclusion offers a corrective to the concept of Asian American literature, offering that the rubric of “global novelist and global writing are more accurate for terms and for works,” especially with respect to the increasingly non-domestic contexts of many narratives.

Ty leaves us then with the concept of the “Asian global,” conceptualized in part because such narratives “arise out of and are contingent upon globalization—the movement of people, capital, and production across the north and south—and because they are no longer located just in North America or Britain.” In ending this brief review, it would seem the possibility that Ty is pushing for a potentially new field rubric in which Asian global texts written in English appear front and center. In this way, the move to diasporic and transnational critiques which typically and traditionally have not shifted beyond a two-country paradigm can be supplanted with this Asian global literary studies model that pushes scholars to contextualize texts from multi-focal spatial axes.

Review by Stephen Hong Sohn

Cross-posted at Asian American Literature Fans

How to Train Your Dragon

Directed by Dean DeBlois and Chris Sanders
DreamWorks



As a feminist mother of a young daughter, I am always on the lookout for movies with a positive message. As a mom who is a geek, I'm always looking for sci-fi and fantasy movies that are kid-appropriate. As an intelligent woman, I'm always looking for entertainment that has good storytelling. Luckily for everyone like me, How to Train Your Dragon fits all three categories.

First of all, the movie is great storytelling, with fantastic visuals (especially in 3-D) that will keep everyone from a three-year-old to an adult interested and engaged throughout the whole film. The pacing is excellent, without any dragging moments or exposition that will bore young kids, and with enough depth that parents won't get bored either.

But much more importantly, the story gives a great message for kids of any age. For those who don't want to have the movie spoiled for them, here's the basic rundown: strong female characters (women & girls), great attitudes towards disability, support for flexible gender roles, good messages about accepting people as they are, underlying message about understanding, and peaceful solutions as opposed to conflict. Now, on to the details...

The story revolves around a teenager, Hiccup, who lives in a Nordic village that is defined primarily by its ongoing battle against hordes of raiding dragons. Both women and men fight, and teens help as well, but Hiccup is awkward and physically weak, and is not allowed to help. The teenager who is best at dragon fighting is a girl named Astrid, whom Hiccup likes. Hiccup's father is chief of the village, and does not value Hiccup's other talents. Hiccup creates a machine to help him capture a dragon, so that he can prove his worth to the village.

The machine works, Hiccup attempts to kill the captured dragon, but cannot bring himself to do so; instead he sets it free. The dragon, injured by the machine, cannot fly anymore. Over time, Hiccup befriends it, names it Toothless, and creates a prosthetic device that will help the dragon fly again, but only with the help of a human rider. Meanwhile, Hiccup is learning about dragon behavior, and uses that information to become the best teenaged dragon fighter, all without killing a single dragon. Hiccup's success frustrates Astrid, because she has been training all her life to be a dragon fighter, and was the best until Hiccup's changed behavior. Astrid discovers Hiccup and Toothless, but has her mind changed after spending time with them. Hiccup and Astrid discover the dragons' nest, and realize that the dragons raid the village in order to feed a giant dragon who will eat them otherwise.

When Hiccup is chosen as the best dragon fighter, he must kill a dragon in front of the village, but he refuses. His father agitates the dragon into attacking, and Toothless arrives to save Hiccup, but is captured and imprisoned. The villagers use Toothless to lead them to the dragons' nest, but the giant dragon attacks them and the teenagers, all on dragons, rescue the adults, each using her or his own abilities and skills in a group effort. Hiccup and Toothless defeat the giant dragon, but Hiccup loses a leg as a result. The village accepts the dragons and lives in harmony with them from then on.

Do I think this movie was helped by the fact that a) it's based on a book written by a woman and b) three of the five producers are female? Yes, I do. And this is exactly why we need more women in Hollywood. I love having a movie that I can show my daughter over and over again, and not worry about the underlying messages she might be getting from it. Instead, I can show her How to Train Your Dragon as much as she wants, knowing that she's getting a message of inclusion and acceptance.

Review by Elena Perez

Cross-posted from California NOW