A cabinet of curiosities: a warm, funny, occasionally touching catalogue of personal interests, idiosyncratic and wide-ranging. Whether Fadiman writesA cabinet of curiosities: a warm, funny, occasionally touching catalogue of personal interests, idiosyncratic and wide-ranging. Whether Fadiman writes about butterflies and Nabokov, coffee, ice-cream, letters, or Arctic explorers, you will be entertained....more
A thorough look at a not particularly well-received story that nevertheless has quite a lot to offer. And Sam Maleski (he/they), in my opinion the leaA thorough look at a not particularly well-received story that nevertheless has quite a lot to offer. And Sam Maleski (he/they), in my opinion the leading critic of the Chibnall era, is particularly well-equipped to uncover it. Their book about series 11, Sheffield Steel, is proof of that.
In his Black Archive, Maleski traces the tradition of giant monster movies, the industrial history of Sheffield (which doesn't just inform this episode, but forms a through-line across series 11), how the Gothic manifests in Arachnids... and the politicial dimensions of the story (including capitalism, Robertson as a Trump stand-in, the position pf minorities within the system and ways of resisting), finally arriving at the much-criticised ending to offer an interpretation of just how the episode and the Chibnall-era at large see the new Doctor's ethos.
I found the Robertson section particularly interesting for its analysis of what it means that Trump actually exists in the DW universe now and we are dealling with a figure similar but also different in certain key regards. I think Maleski is onto something when he notes that Robertson's undetermined political affiliation points to similarities that the ruling/capitalist class shares across the political spectrum. There is something to that, though on the other hand the small differences can be crucial, too (Robertson doesn't seem to share Trump's crassness and bloodlust, which defangs the satire, or maybe just rerouts the critique to different aspects).
I think the look at the Gothicness of capitalism could be a great introduction to thinking about capitalism as a system, a demonstration of just how vast its reach is, for people less familiar with anti-capitalist critique. Maleski also does really well in pointing to the attempts the episode makes at forming an alliance of the oppressed (even if calling Yaz as a police pfficer a member of the service industry is a bit of a stretch) and its shortcomings in this regard. I found their analysis of grime particularly valuable – the use of a Stormzy song points to activism rooted in locality as a way forward, which contrasts nicely with the Doctor's role as a dispassionate arbiter dedicated to finding a compromise (which would align her with electoral politics – something Elizabeth Sandifer, another Doctor Who critic, noted should be primarily seen as a form of damage control).
This is a successful Black Archive, thorough, informative, and filled with interesting insights....more
An interesting if muddled analysis. I tend to get a bit wary when people talk about archetypes, myth, Jung, Campbell, as I think those categories can An interesting if muddled analysis. I tend to get a bit wary when people talk about archetypes, myth, Jung, Campbell, as I think those categories can be applied a little too widely and freely, without a necessary rigour. This Black Archive does that too at times (I don't think it can be said that the Doctor is on a Hero's Journey for instance; another example of loose application of categories is treating anti-heroes and superheroes as opposites). There are also bits that skim along the surface, making assertions that are incorrect (such as Rory being as unrelatable to the audience as Amy – which for one ignores the group of fan critics who have written eloquently about their identification with Amy in matters such as trauma or abandonment issues) or that should be engaged with in a bit more depth (such as the snuggle theory of watching horror movies).
Those issues prevented me from fully buying into the analysis of The God Complex presented in the book, even though there were very interesting insights about the various forms that faith can take or the texts that formed an aesthetic influence on the episode....more
Note: I know the author and have read and provided feedback on an earlier draft of the book.
A fearsomely researched analysis of an unjustly disliked eNote: I know the author and have read and provided feedback on an earlier draft of the book.
A fearsomely researched analysis of an unjustly disliked episode. Shaw dives deep into Rings of Akhaten, reading it primarily as a feminist and post-colonialist critique of New Atheism and the patriarchalism and orientalism that form the basis of that movement. There is also an interesting look at the episode's shortcomings, where Shaw demonstrates how some of the structural and directorial choices reinforce the orientalist framing of the East-inspired sci-fi setting, undermining the in-episode critique of such practices. I also really liked the discussion of what led to a mostly negative reception of the episode – including a broader comparison with the rest of the episode writer Neil Cross's oeuvre. (If there's anything missed here, I'd say maybe a look at the general reception of more fantasy-inflected Doctor Who stories, e.g. In the Forest of the Night or The Eaters of Light, which also seem not that well-loved).
What makes this book stand out among other Black Archive releases is the pacing – the amount of interesting insights and observations makes sure that the reader is never bored; at the same time Shaw lays out his analysis and reasoning in a very calm and methodical manner. There's no effect of a breathless rush that I have often had with other BA books – there is time and space for the reader to easily follow and think through what the author is saying. The various strands of the book are also very skillfully tied together, so that a jump from discussions of New Atheism or the feminist message of Rings... to the episode's shortcomings or its contributions to the 50th anniversary-influenced self-examination of the show as a whole might initially seem a little jarring, but all those topics eventually contribute to the book's main thesis.
All of that makes the book a genuine pleasure to read and the insights it makes are fascinating and vital to the show and the culture we live in. A wonderful honouring of an underappreciated episode....more
Very cool look at a two-parter that was a loud mission statement for Steven Moffat's ambitious, difficult, troubled second series as showrunner. Toon Very cool look at a two-parter that was a loud mission statement for Steven Moffat's ambitious, difficult, troubled second series as showrunner. Toon dives into a few aspects of the premiere. His analysis of the aesthetic basis of the Doctor's trip to 1969 leads him first to an overview of conspiracy theories that the two-parter riffs on, followed by a chapter on the psychological roots of the conspiratorial mindset. From there he looks at how the figure of the Silent is informed by conspiracies (and how it subverts certain tropes of the conspiracy genre). There is a look at how president Nixon is used here in comparison with the broader 'celebrity historical' format of the show. And finally the aspect I was most intrigued by, namely: the ethics of the Doctor's decision to (view spoiler)[essentially orchestrate a genocide of the Silents on Earth (hide spoiler)].
The chapters on the latter were fascinating, if not fully persuasive. I was deeply fascinated by the analysis of the Doctor's actions through the lens of various theories of ethics (some of which I was unaware of previously and which I will be eager to read more about). The glee the Doctor exhibits in the ending prevent me from fully buying into Toon's justification for his choices, but I appreciate the construction of a hypothetical ethical framework that would have led the Doctor into deciding this course of action was ethical.
The conspiracy theory (and conspiracy theory theory) part is similarly fascinating, as Toon presents the tendency to believe in conspiracies as a facet of our general psychological tendencies – but also as an extension (perversion?) of the Enlightenment's drive towards scepticism.
Unfortunately the book peters out at the end – the final chapter on Nixon's portrayal as a historical figure is not uninteresting, but it's a weak conclusion and there is no attempt at tying the various strands together.
Overall, though, I think the book focuses on the right aspects of the episode and uses some fascinating approaches to analyse them....more
Fascinating collection of talks about the intersection of magic and technology, and the future. At first I thought it might be slightly too optimisticFascinating collection of talks about the intersection of magic and technology, and the future. At first I thought it might be slightly too optimistic about the possibilities of technology given the limitations placed on it by capitalism, but that gets rectified later on. In the end we get a balanced yet inspirational look at the possibilities held by the future.
Now where is that upcoming book about the future of the city that's mentioned in the author's bio...?...more
A book that dares to ask: “what if we actually have a future?”, which immediately makes it one of the most important books currently.
What follows is aA book that dares to ask: “what if we actually have a future?”, which immediately makes it one of the most important books currently.
What follows is an investigation (and an experiment) by Higgs, who looks at various phenomena (artificial intelligence, virtual reality, social media, Gen Z, ecological collapse) to try to tease out whether we have reasons to be hopeful and what exactly will it take to save ourselves.
It’s a deeply humane, clever, interesting, and funny book. In the four days spent reading it, I found myself wanting to recommend it on three separate occasions, so, you know. Read it....more
I’ve been feeling very frustrated recently with how our culture finds itself seemingly unable to imagine a productive response to the world as it currI’ve been feeling very frustrated recently with how our culture finds itself seemingly unable to imagine a productive response to the world as it currently is. Big franchises are not feeling bold enough to imagine what could come next after their main stories are over, and so retreat into prequels. Jacek Dehnel in his new novel “Ale z naszymi umarłymi” tries to puncture the xenophobic, monolythic Polishness with humour, but in the end admits that it will probably just devour us all.
In this context I appreciate even more books like Sam Keeper’s “Who Killed the World?” – books that try to propose strategies for art to respond to what’s happening in the world and imagining an attitude for a future.
Keeper quite rightly concentrates on solarpunk, a genre that lays claim to the responsibility of imagining a more sustainable world, but whose ambitions in practice seem fairly limited. It seems more than fair, then, to ask “if solarpunk was actually going to do what it says it aims to do, what should that actually look like?”.
What follows is a poignant, insightful, but also frequently humorous analysis of prominent texts from various -punk genres (including solarpunk’s more prominent older siblings, cyberpunk and steampunk) and the challenges, pitfalls, and triumphs contained within them. And the result can be instructive not just for creators of solarpunk, but all sff creators.
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