Search This Blog

Showing posts with label Christopher Barzak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christopher Barzak. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Review: Jamie Marks Is Dead

Based on Christopher Barzak's novel "One For Sorrow," Jamie Marks Is Dead relates the life of Adam in the wake of classmate Jamie Marks' death, a death which follows shortly after bullying incidents.

After Adam witnesses the ghost of Jamie, Adam wants to investigate who murdered Jamie. Adam's friend Gracie discourages his desire to unravel the mystery that becomes more and more psychological.

Some character motivations puzzle viewers in the middle. For instance, why does Gracie discourage Adam's sleuthing? What do Adam and Jamie want from each other? Some of it is explained by a very satisfying if melancholy conclusion; some of it remains a mystery. Also, the film make plain how Jamie, an attractive young man, had slipped into high school with no friends. One suspects poor socialization, but it isn't much demonstrated in his afterlife.

It's well worth watching, though. Several scenes are beautifully shot and composed, and it will leave you pondering questions of life and death.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Slow Down + Blog Assessment + Writer Interviews + Posts You May Have Missed

Slow Down
Too many posts consume time. I must slow down. I have stories to write and submit, so enjoy what's here.

Blog Assessment
The last assessment was in December of 2012. I've been at this since Dec 2009--a little over four years (although I also blogged at s1ngularity:criticism and Mundane SF blogs before this). With nearly a thousand posts, that's about two posts for every three days. When I get bogged down at school, I post less frequently.

For two and half years, page visits have grown ten percent or so per month, which amounts to a twenty-fold increase. The per post view-rate has grown since last year from 35 to 55 or so, not quite a sixty percent increase. This is more dramatic when you consider the early posts with few hits are factored in (the hits were probably my mama who accidentally hit the refresh button a few times.

A year ago, one post--"Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid--outstripped all other posts and accounted for ten percent of the traffic (it's now five). I guess it's a good one. Fifty to a hundred folks stop by each month to take a look. Trent Zelazny's interview posts may have been the only posts that overtook her monthly lead.

Interesting to see which classic stories people are still fascinated by. Theodore Sturgeon's "Microcosmic Gods" and "Thunder and Roses" have drawn hundreds of readers in less than a year, but the other Sturgeon stories only about two dozen each.  I'll  be interested to see which stories of the big three--Arthur C. Clarle's, Isaac Asimov's and Robert Heinlein's--people are still fascinated by.  William Gibson and Ursula K. LeGuin drew less attention than I would have supposed although I need to do more or theirs..

In retrospect, part of the blog's growth was not only the quantity of posts but also the quality of their presentation. I changed presentation when I reviewed and interviewed. Take note if you blog.

Popular posts can be viewed on the right.

Writer Interviews
On file are the following:
  1. Loralee Leavitt
  2. Christopher Barzak
  3. Trent Zelazny
  4. Kenneth W. Cain
  5. I have upcoming interviews with G.O. Clark and Dustin Lavalley.

Posts You May Have Missed
These are posts I thought there might be more interest than they've received: 
  1. A Scene-by-Scene Analysis of the Movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey*
  2. Analysis of Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A. Abbott*
  3. A number of James Patrick Kelly posts--one of the best writers of speculative fiction in the 90s and 00s. I didn't put much time into pretty-fying them, focusing on content. Maybe I'll revise them one day.
* These two might make a nice contrast, treating religion from opposite ends of the spectrum.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Close Reading/Review of "Smoke City" by Christopher Barzak from the collection Before and Afterlives

This originally in Asimov's in 2011.  It is included in his new collection.  For interviews and commentary/reviews of other stories in that collection, click the Christopher Barzak tag at the end of this post.

Lightspeed just reprinted Christopher Barzak's "Smoke City," including an audio version.

They also have an interview with him.

Warning: I may or may not "spoil" events in discussing, but this doesn't read as a spoil-able story.

One-paragraph review:  This story has a great deal of intellectual appeal.  I had to read it three times to plumb it fully.  If you prefer traditionally told stories, where the chief pleasure is in one reading, you will probably want to look elsewhere.  (No slander is intended toward either type of story--nor readers who prefer one over another.)

Analysis: "Smoke City" is a surreal retelling of the traditional fantasy "portal" story, where the protagonist slips from the current reality into what's generally a stranger more vivid world of imagination.  Take L. Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy exits the gray landscape of Kansas for the technicolor Oz.  Barzak reverses that here, where vivid landscape is the narrator's present time and she falls into a bleaker landscape of the industrial past.

Smoke City lies underground, which women descend to in sleep (?), although they stay for a year (despite returning in the morning).  After the sleep self, a poignant moment occurs as one is just descending (into a kind of hell of poverty where no plants grow) while another woman rises out of Smoke City to return to her "real" home..

Recalling her mother's words, the narrator quotes Emily Dickinson but without lineation:  "Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me."  Barzak has the characters appropriate and repurpose Dickinson's words:
"They were Dickinson's words, of course, not my mother's, but she said them as if they were hers, and because of that, they are now mine, passed down with every other object my mother gave me."
This serves as a clever way of re-interpreting famous lines of poetry.  Dickinson means to say that death is coming, no matter our readiness or intentions.  For Barzak, the lines become more menacing if in an ostensibly pleasant manner.  Here, death, in the guise of society, "comes back for us" to fill its designs.

My favorite exchange:
"It is good to see you again, wife...." 
"It is good to smell you again, husband."
First, they do not identify each except as their marital roles.  Second, they experience things differently.  Third, possibly most importantly, her pleasure in this world is not as great as his.  He states the common greeting for pleasure at seeing someone long gone.  She doesn't exactly return it, slighting him ever so slightly, even if he does provide her some pleasure.  But it isn't him or her, she states later, but the society or world they live in.

The subject of death returns in this dialogue exchange where different kinds of deaths are discussed:
[Her Smoke City husband] said, "I die a little more each time you are away...."
I said "We all die," and closed my eyes to the night.
The only pleasure for the men are the women, yet for the women, all is labor, even love.  The narrator does not want children due to the City, for it burns up their children.  Then she loses her husband, who is "a slab of meat on the floor of the mill, dragged away to be replaced by another body, another man, so that Eliza [the factory] can continue her labors."  So men are cogs in the factory, to be replaced when broken.

She rejects new suitors, lined up around the corner, since they only want her to cook, clean, and make love to them.  However, the factory owners arrive and make her have new children for their factories.

Finally, her year in industrial hell is over.

Response: Thought provoking and probably largely true for those who must live through such conditions.  As a part-time employee as devil's advocate, I might suggest that for the first workers, changing from agronomy to industrial, it must have been a step up the economic ladder or they would have returned.  This does not negate Barzak's commentary on industrialization and class (and gender within that context), but merely adds another perspective.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Review: "Map of Seventeen" from Before and Afterlives


"Map of Seventeen" from Before and Afterlives  (originally in The Beastly Bride)
Christopher Barzak 
Paperback: 320 pages  
Publisher: Lethe Press (March 18, 2013)  
ISBN-10: 1590213696 ISBN-13: 978-1590213698
Tommy is a famous painter, whose paintings critique his family and way of life--an annoyance his sister, Meg.  He doesn't seem to notice how Tristan, his boyfriend, and art ruin the family's life in this rural town.  To top it off, he and Tristan move in with the family.  They are written up in the church newsletter for prayer requests.

But Meg has her own secret:  Her will can make people do things they don't mean to.  Tommy has a further secret to reveal about Tristan, and that's why they're there.

Meg not only comes to terms with the strange but vows to fight for it.  A battle hymn for the strange.

Some readers may be disappointed that Barzak doesn't directly use speculative conceits except as metaphors, but most of those familiar with Barzak's work have come to anticipate this aspect.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Review: "What We Know about the Lost Families of ____ House" from Before and Afterlives


"What We Know about the Lost Families of ____ House" from Before and Afterlives  (originally in Interfictions)
Christopher Barzak 
Paperback: 320 pages  
Publisher: Lethe Press (March 18, 2013)  
ISBN-10: 1590213696 ISBN-13: 978-1590213698
Rose Addleson is the house's latest victim.  She spoke in tongues at church a child, using what the people say in Jesus' voice.  After her car stalled, she needed a phone, so she stopped by the ____ House.  The House says it needs her, so she marries its owner, Jonas.  She cleans up buttons continually since  a former owner used to own a button factory.  She had one child who died at age one on a cold winter's night.

The first owners people remember were the Blanks.  The first son disappeared into the orchard, the father died, and their last son disappeared, leaving just the mother.  Next came the Olivers whose parents were murdered by their son who had gambling debts and who held his brother and sister hostage.  At first the town is generous helping the kids find work, but when the sister has a child, the town shuns them until they're forced to leave.

The next owners were the Addlesons, Jonas' grandparents, who arrived during WWII while the men were gone.  The button factory owner, James, however, had gotten various factory girls pregnant, killed them, and buried them in various locations.  The community wanted to intervene then--"if it is not the business of one’s community, whose business is it?"  But the mother needed a place to raise her children, but then Jonas' father killed himself when Jonas was ten.

Finally, the community chooses to act:

"We thought we were doing best by them, leaving them to their own choices, trying not to interfere with the lives of others. But we saw how wrong we were when — House took our Rose, when it took our Rose’s little girl....   
It was then we decided to take action. Not one more of our children would we let that house ravage."


The story treats in a literal way how places shape us and how we may or may not have the power to change that--how places remind us the history of those shapes, long after they occurred.  This sets the metronome for how we interpret the collection's title.


This is an ambitious story.  The viewpoint--famously executed by William Faulkner in "A Rose for Emily"--is tough to pull off as it encompasses the attitude of a town in the first person-plural.  In Faulkner's we see a town reacting to an elderly woman.  Here again the town takes ownership, but perhaps it takes a more active moral role.

The story also plays with time and dramatic continuity (it starts in the present, backs up a little, then goes as far back as its residents can remember, switching up characters and story lines along the way.) and with reliability:
"If anyone is curious [about who first built the house], of course there is the library with town records ready to be opened. No one has opened those records in over fifty years, though. Oral history, gossip, is best for this sort of situation."
That this opens the anthology suggests that the author and/or editor hold it in high regard, or perhaps this story sets the tone for others to come.  It is without doubt interesting with intellectual challenges (I read it three times) although it is surprising that they would challenge readers so quickly instead opening with a more traditional narrative, such as "The Language of Moths":  Lure them in, then toy with readers.  Perhaps they wanted readers aware of the kinds of pleasures Barzak offers.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Review: "A Beginner’s Guide to Survival Before, During, and After the Apocalypse" & "The Other Angelas" from Before and Afterlives


"A Beginner’s Guide to Survival Before, During, and After the Apocalypse" from Before and Afterlives  
Christopher Barzak 
Paperback: 320 pages  
Publisher: Lethe Press (March 18, 2013)  
ISBN-10: 1590213696 ISBN-13: 978-1590213698
 A gently humorous, metafictive look at the the Apocalypse story:  "Practice these phrases: 'I am a
patriot of the first order,' and, 'God has shown me the light,' and, maybe the most important one, 'If you don’t like it here, go somewhere else.' "

The best part appears near the end (spoiler?  Not so much as it isn't really a drama-building story). The shadow of the protagonist remains in the cave he used to live in, which gives the tale poignancy.

"The Other Angelas" from Before and Afterlives  (originally appeared in Pindeldyboz)
Angela meets a younger/older version of herself, which initially is disconcerting, but they accustom themselves to the situation.  After a disappointing encounter with her future husband, the younger wakes to find a third Angela.  She takes on a disappointing lover, and the next day, a fourth appears.  After packing her husband's stuff, they settle for coffee.



Monday, February 25, 2013

Review: "The Language of Moths" from Before and Afterlives Christopher Barzak

"The Language of Moths"from Before and Afterlives 
Christopher Barzak 
Paperback: 320 pages  
Publisher: Lethe Press (March 18, 2013)  
ISBN-10: 1590213696 ISBN-13: 978-1590213698
Like "Birthday" from Christopher Barzak's other collection, Birds and Birthdays, "The Language of Moths" grows in power in the rereading--in part because many details stand out in retrospect.

Over summer vacation, Eliot is trapped in the wilderness, cooped up with family in a tiny cabin, certain he'll be saddled with the responsibility of taking care of his autistic sister all the time while his dad chases after a possibly fictitious moth and his mom works on a feminist revision of Thoreau's Walden.  But he isn't.  His mother often frees him of the responsibility to go play and make friends, which he does and encounters his first love... and first rejection.

His sister, meanwhile, talks to insects, off in her own little world and has to be chased down often.  However, her insights into the family are considerable, calling Eliot a "little old man" due to his grouchiness for having to watch over her.  Eliot's opinion of her changes as he sees the insects respond to her and do her communication for her.

Barzak treats communication where the moths' language and insight is a little boring mirroring Eliot's and his parents'.  The sister, on the other hand, probably closer resembles the fireflies who like to have fun and who are helpful as Eliot's sister is to her dad and Eliot.  I'm adding this to my list of Barzak's greatest hits.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Interview: Christopher Barzak on "Birthday"


Aqueduct Press
ISBN: 978-1-61976-014-1 (13 digit)
Publication Date: 8/1/2012
(paperback) 96 pages


QIn “Birthday” (possibly a new classic of the field) I’m still puzzling over how you took a woman I ought to despise and make me feel deeply for her. A landlady snoops in other people’s apartments, evicts them because of her embarrassment of her own actions, and then abandons not only her family but the other apartments she ran to. How’d you do that? What was your revision process or major difficulty of this piece? Am I mistaken to think that the nuance in the story was difficult to come by? If so, how?
BarzakThis is one of my favorite stories of the bunch, so I'm really pleased that you liked it so much. Especially because the narrator, Emma, really does have a lot of things going against her in terms of readers who have been trained to have to "like" a character in order to empathize with their plight. She's does a lot of things that, if we were to encounter her in "real life," would put us off of her. But reading fiction for me is different from "real life." I don't need to "like" characters in order to be interested in them. Fiction is a safe place to get closer to people who you wouldn't want to be close to in your daily life. And it's a place where you might come to understand people who you might find horrible or off-putting in real life. It's one of the things that fiction does, I think, or can do: open up a space for compassion that we might not allow ourselves to have open so readily in daily life because it makes you vulnerable to not have boundaries. So for me, as I wrote from Emma's point of view, I wanted to explore the nature of identity, and how it's this thing that holds us together and gives us shape, but that it's also something that we actively shape, even if we're not aware of ourselves doing it as we do it. Emma's situation was one that elicited innate sympathy from me immediately: she's a very young woman who has lost her entire family in her early twenties and has no one and nothing else in her life beyond the apartment building she inherits, and the people who live within it. What she's really trying to do throughout the story is to create a new life for herself, but she doesn't know how to do it. She makes a lot of mistakes on the way to finding or making the self that makes her happy, which is someone she was before her world was changed so radically, and she hurts a lot of people along the way, including herself. If she didn't get to a place of self-actualization by the end, I probably would have been left with a distaste for her, but she's someone who (I think is evident) is trying hard and doesn't intend to hurt others and wants to make good once she's in a place in her life where she's more capable of doing that. I think this isn't so different from real life people, actually. I think most of us are trying hard and don't purposefully want to hurt others, and want to make good when we're capable of making good. In order to make a character like this, who is both unlikable and yet somehow sympathetic, I felt like I had to be as compassionate to her as I wrote from her point of view as I would be for myself or someone I care about a great deal. I had to suspend judgment. And this is something that she brings up to the reader at the end of her story. She knows what she's done and she knows that her character is now in the hands of the reader and she even understands if they can't find her forgivable. I think it's something about narrative that a reader does, as we do in life: we judge as we're taking in the details of another person's actions. Sometimes we judge without trying to understand them, though.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Interview: Christopher Barzak on his essay "Re-Membering the Body: Reconstructing the Female in Surrealism”


Aqueduct Press
ISBN: 978-1-61976-014-1 (13 digit)
Publication Date: 8/1/2012
(paperback) 96 pages


QMy review [forthcoming from SF Site] attempts to tackle deconstruction as it sometimes seems problematic. Do you see any problems with deconstruction? What’s your take?


Barzak:  I don't really have a take on deconstruction. I studied it as a theoretical way of writing about reading in grad school, but it wasn't what I thought of as the most useful or even interesting way to write about the experience of reading. Most of the time deconstructive criticism seems to miss a lot of things, or to make assumptions. I don't feel like the essay I wrote at the end of Birds and Birthdays is a deconstruction of the paintings I was working with, but more of an observation of a pattern I noticed (and that others have noticed, I saw, through my research) as I looked at a lot of Surrealist art over a period of years. I don't think the male artists intended to exclude women, but I do think it's something they undeniably did. It's similar to the way that many people don't understand the nature of privilege because they've been born privileged, and they assume everyone has the exact same opportunities in life as they have, and if someone hasn't made something of themselves then it's their own fault and maybe they need to work harder, etc. When in reality, I know a lot of people who work hard, really hard, and nothing comes of it but a crappy paycheck and the person they work for has inherited a business or was given a great sum of money from family wealth that allowed them to basically start out on third base from the beginning. That sort of thing is something people don't see--they assume everyone has the same start in life, but they don't, and this does affect one's ability to move through social and economic classes. I think for the men within the Surrealist movement, they were working from a cultural template where women were the wives and mothers in general, and this was simply something that they couldn't see because it was so normalized. They saw a lot of other things about their culture that they wanted to change, but I think this just wasn't one of the things they were able to see very clearly. I don't think it means they're horrible people, or that they excluded women intentionally. But it was there.

For me, deconstruction is a tool of reading applied to a particular painting or a piece of writing or some other readable/interpretable text. I don't think I did that, really, in my essay. I think I was mainly tracing a gender relationship pattern or dynamic I saw as I researched the Surrealist movement itself, both in how women weren't given space in exhibitions and how not one woman's signature was included in the famous manifesto, and how the female body was employed, over and over, in Surrealist iconography in a way that the male form simply wasn't subjected to. I hope that my observations on that pattern don't minimize the artwork of the men, though. I mainly wanted to point it out, and to hopefully direct some attention to the work of the women working on the margins of the Surrealist circles their male friends, lovers and husbands or brothers inhabited as central figures.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Interview: Christopher Barzak on the Not Chosen One


Aqueduct Press
ISBN: 978-1-61976-014-1 (13 digit)
Publication Date: 8/1/2012
(paperback) 96 pages


Story available online

QIn “Guardian of the Egg” we have a witness to wonder--not the person to whom the magic occurs, but the brother. Probably, like Watson to Sherlock Holmes, the brother helps us experience the mystery as an outsider. And yet we are outside the wonder, which is rarely where a speculative reader wants to be. What are the pitfalls of such a narrative, and how do writers avoid them?


BarzakYes, a lot of spec-fic readers want the wonder to be something experienced firsthand by the protagonist of the story. But I'm a fan of "peripheral narrators" like Nick in The Great Gatsby, someone who is telling a story about what they're witnessing. My narrator in "The Guardian of the Egg" isn't a key player, even though he wants to be. It's his sister's story, and in some ways I think he's jealous of what she's experiencing. She's kind of a girl goddess. Her story of transformation is something he wants for himself in a way, but she's the one experiencing this event and part of his own transformation is learning that, you know what, it's not always about you. Sometimes it's someone else's story, and you're in the periphery, and if you are observant enough, you might learn something from watching. I think one of the things about a lot of fantasy or science fiction narrative that kind of irks me is how there is a lot of weight put on narrators who are always these "chosen ones". Only I can save the world. Only I was born with this incredibly unique power and no one understands me because of it, but that's okay, I'm going to do what I have to do, because I'm the hero. There are all kinds of people on the periphery of those stories, just like in life, and I think it's useful to write from outside of the "chosen one" mentality because, honestly, most of us aren't the chosen one. Most of us are schlepping to work and paying bills and trying to have a good relationship with partners and friends and family, etc., and while it would be totally awesome if we were the chosen one, sometimes we're just us, and that's okay too.

I'm not sure how to avoid the pitfalls of that kind of narrative, other than to make sure that even if your narrator or protagonist, however peripheral to the really awesome wondrous magical stuff, is still able to experience in some way. I think that means actively engaging with whatever strangeness is occurring, rather than just simply slouching in a corner.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Interview: Christopher Barzak on "The Creation of Birds"


Aqueduct Press
ISBN: 978-1-61976-014-1 (13 digit)
Publication Date: 8/1/2012
(paperback) 96 pages


QIt's been a month since I first read the collection. I suspect my ranking them must have been in the order they appeared, based on the wild strangenesses encountered, but I reversed this, in part, after I reread it. I accepted that I didn't understand the relationship at first ("The Creation of Birds"), but on the second read l wondered what was up: Was their relationship like that of Zeus and Hera, where we mere mortals cannot fathom what holds them together? Or am I missing the boat?
BarzakI think the comparison with Zeus and Hera is a useful one here. When I was creating the relationship between the Star Catcher and The Bird Woman in "The Creation of Birds" I wanted to achieve two things, specifically, in the dynamics of their affair. Thing 1 was to create an air of epic or mythic archetypal drama between them, as if their relationship was something cosmic and beyond human love affairs. Thing 2 was to use details that were immediately relatable to contemporary human love dramas. In other words, I wanted their relationship to feel both archetypal and familiar to readers at the same time. So their relationship has mythic qualities and mundane qualities as well.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Interview: Christopher Barzak on the Story Fount of the Surreal


Aqueduct Press
ISBN: 978-1-61976-014-1 (13 digit)
Publication Date: 8/1/2012
(paperback) 96 pages


QWhere do your ideas for surreal stories come from? surrealist paintings mentioned in your essay? dreams? wordplay? misunderstandings? Do they arrive whole? Or do you milk them to see what greater speculations you can squeeze out?


Barzak:  Well, in the specific stories in Birds and Birthdays, much of the imagery comes from the paintings I used for inspiration. But the imagery I responded to in those paintings and used in my stories also led me to originate some of my own, as I wrote the stories. So in that way I "milked them to what greater speculations I could squeeze out of them." In other stories of mine that aren't written directly in response to paintings, I tend to arrive at my images and visions from all of the ways you suggested. Dreams, wordplay especially, misunderstandings and misreadings of things in my daily life in general.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Interview: Christopher Barzak on the Appeal of the Surreal


Aqueduct Press
ISBN: 978-1-61976-014-1 (13 digit)
Publication Date: 8/1/2012
(paperback) 96 pages


Q: From the first story, your vision immediately enthralled me: a woman who makes birds, a man who catches stars, a girl with a mission to protect an egg and a tree growing out of her head. What attracts you to such visions?


Barzak: I'm interested in dream imagery and visions from the subconscious mind. I always have been. There's something about surreal imagery and visions that is fresh compared to so much of fantasy iconography that has become encoded by the fantasy writing and art industry's iconography. I'm not excited to see paintings or stories about elves or dragons very much, unless they've been incredibly rendered in some way that I may not even recognize them as such. Likewise with the tradition epic fantasy worlds that are lush and green and heavily mountained and rivered, etc. They're pastoral and that's fine, but they're sort of nostalgic in a way that bores me. I find the freshest fantasy I read or see is non-conventional, non-traditional, because they haven't been assimilated into popular culture yet, defined and made easily accessible in regard to what they mean. As a writer, when I originate or work with someone else's personal fantasy iconography, it's a way for me to explore that imagery rather than to employ it in the conventional way that the fantasy genre tends to take pre-fab settings and situations and characters and employ them to do what they've unfortunately been used to do over and over already, like windup toys.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Science & Writing

This was fun and awe-inspiring for students:  displaying the wind map and cloud cover map as Hurricane Sandy passed over the US.

Via IO9, we learn of the internet archive of OMNI magazine, a cool mix of science, paranormal and SF.

How to make your head spin 360 degrees (animation).

NY finds body entwined in tree roots (not unusual).

Christopher Priest and Tobias Buckell discuss their juvenalia to the aid of writers.

SF Poetry contest winners

Interviews
Bradley P. Beaulieu (annoyingly loads up ads constantly)
Christopher Barzak