#carmen maria machado

[sarahreesbrennan]

Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?

Genuine question.

Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.

But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.

Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.

Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.

… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.

I’m not in this to have an internet argument. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.

I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.

In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.

Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.

Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.

I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.

I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.

If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.

[aconissa]

WRITERS + DIRECTORS ON THE POWER OF HORROR

Catriona Ward, interview for The Guardian Mark Gatiss, in A History of Horror (2010) Pascal Laugier, for Electric Sheep Candyman (1992), dir. Bernard Rose Colin Dickey, Ghostland Carmen Maria Machado, for Paris Review Kier-La Janisse, House of Psychotic Women Possession (1981), dir. Andrzej Żuławski Mariana Enríquez, ‘Notes on Craft’, Granta Guillermo del Toro, Haunted Castles, Dark Mirrors

[thehopefulquotes]

Many people live and die without ever confronting themselves in the darkness.

Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body and Other Parties

[soracities]

Carmen Maria Machado, from "Meat Eater No. 5" [ID'd]

[quotefeeling]

Many people live and die without ever confronting themselves in the darkness.

Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body and Other Parties

[perfectquote]

Many people live and die without ever confronting themselves in the darkness.

Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body and Other Parties

[dwellordream]

- Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House

[ordinaryheavenn]

in the dream house - carmen maria machado

[thoughtkick]

Many people live and die without ever confronting themselves in the darkness.

Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body and Other Parties

[paperbaacks]

loved in the dream house so much i ended up getting her body and other parties too!

[goreprofonde]

Cannibalism stories ask us to wrestle with thorny questions about what it means to eat the things we eat, or what it means to unmake something just like us in service of ourselves. It is a subject impossible to untangle from our human desire to consume, or the vulnerabilities that make us easy to be consumed. In her essay on cannibalism as metaphor for capitalism and feminism, Chelsea G. Summers—author of her own brilliant cannibal novel, A Certain Hunger—writes on the way the idea has infected our very language: “We don’t just win; we devour. We don’t just vanquish; we roast our rivals, and we eat them for breakfast. We go to bars described as meat markets in search of a piece of ass, and if we find a lover, we nibble, we ravish, we swallow them whole.” Cannibalism is a way of framing the capitalistic impulse to conquer; how the upper hand, so to speak, always goes straight to the mouth.

- Carmen Maria Machado, Hollywood’s Gruesome, Lurid Obsession with People Eating People.

[campgender]

from In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado (2019)

In Dorothy Allison’s short story “Violence Against Women Begins at Home,” a group of lesbian friends gathers for a drink and they discuss a bit of community gossip: a pair of women recently broke into another woman’s house and trashed it, smashing glass and dishes and destroying her art, which they deemed pornographic. They spray-painted the story’s eponymous phrase on her wall. The friends debate police involvement and intragroup conflict mediation; but toward the end of the story, as they are parting ways, the problem crystallizes into a single, telling exchange:

“Look, do you think maybe we could hold a rent party for Jackie, get her some money to fix her place back up?”

Paula looks impatient and starts gathering up her stuff. “Oh, I don’t think we should do that. Not while they’re still in arbitration. And anyway, we have so many important things we have to raise money for this spring—community things.”

“Jackie’s a part of the community,” I hear myself say.

“Well, of course.” Paula stands up. “We all are.” The look she gives me makes me wonder if she really believes that, but she’s gone before I can say anything else.

Queer folks fail each other too. This seems like an obvious thing to say; it is not, for example, a surprise to nonwhite queers or trans queers that intracommunity loyalty goes only so far, especially when it must confront the hegemony of the state. But even within ostensibly parallel power dynamics, the desire to save face, to present a narrative of uniform morality, can defeat every other interest.

The queer community has long used the rhetoric of gender roles as a way of absolving queer women from responsibility for domestic abuse. Which is not to say that activists and academics didn’t try. When the conversation about queer domestic abuse took hold in the early 1980s, activists gave out fact sheets at conferences and festivals to dispel myths about queer abuse. [see footnote 45] Scholars distributed questionnaires to get a sense of the scope of the problem. [see footnote 46] Fierce debates were waged in the pages of queer periodicals.

But some lesbians tried to restrict the definition of abuse to men’s actions. Butches might abuse their femmes, but only because of their adopted masculinity. Abusers were using “male privilege.” (To borrow lesbian critic Andrea Long Chu’s phrase, they were guilty of “[smuggling patriarchy] into lesbian utopia.”) Some argued that consensual S&M was part of the problem. Women who were women did not abuse their girlfriends; proper lesbians would never do such a thing. [see footnote 47] There was also the narrative that it was, simply, complicated. The burden of the pressure of straight society! Lesbians abuse each other!

Many people argued that the issue needed to be handled within their own communities. Ink was spilled in the service of decentering victims, and abusers often operated with impunity. In an early lesbian domestic abuse trial, a lawyer noted the odd and unsettling detail that most of the time the jury spent behind closed doors was—contrary to what she’d been worried about—the straight jurors attempting to convince the jury’s sole lesbian member of the defendant’s guilt. When she was later questioned, the lesbian juror told the lawyer that she hadn’t “wanted to convict a [queer] sister,” as though the abused girlfriend was not herself a fellow queer woman.

Around and around they went, circling essential truths that no one wanted to look at directly, as if they were the sun: Women could abuse other women. Women have abused other women. And queers needed to take this issue seriously, because no one else would.

footnote 45: Among the myths tackled by the Santa Cruz Women’s Self Defense Teaching Cooperative: “Myth: It’s only emotional/psychological, so that doesn’t count.” “Myth: I can handle it—unlike her last three lovers.” “Myth: Staying together and working it out is most important.” “Myth: We’re in therapy, so it’ll get fixed now.”

footnote 46: Actual questionnaire language by researcher Alice J. McKinzie: “Is your abuser present at this festival? If your abuser is at this festival, is she present while you are filling this out? If your abuser is not present while you are filling this out, is she aware that you are filling out this questionnaire? If you answered NO to the question above … do you plan to tell her later?”

footnote 47: This No True Scotsman fallacy could bend these narratives in every direction conceivable; create a kind of moving goalpost that permitted an endless warping of accountability. In a firsthand account of her abuse in Gay Community News in 1988, a survivor wrote: “I had been around lesbians since I was a teenager, and although some of them had troubled relationships, I was unaware of any battering. I attached myself to the comforting myth that lesbians don’t batter. Much later, when I was ‘out’ enough to go to gay bars in a town that was liberal enough to tolerate them, I saw that some lesbians did indeed batter. However, I thought they were all of a type—drunks, sexist butches or apolitical lesbians—so I decided that feminist lesbians don’t batter.” Activist Ann Russo put it more succinctly in her book Taking Back Our Lives: “I had found it hard to name abuse in lesbian relationships as a political issue with structural roots.”

[vampiremotif]

harrow the ninth tamsyn muir / her body and other parties carmen maria machado / mabel podcast / tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow gabrielle zevin / harrow the ninth tamsyn muir / much ado about nothing william shakespeare

[llovelymoonn]

carmen maria machado meat eater no. 5

kofi

[perfectfeelings]

I have heard all of the stories about girls like me, and I am unafraid to make more of them.

Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body And Other Parties

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Favorite Books I Read in 2023

I read a ton of good novels last year- 36 in all (and uh, 78 manga/graphic novels, but we'll examine that in another post). Here's a link to my Goodreads year in books (the manga is at the beginning, the novels start with Siren Queen) and my storygraph wrap up.  

I reread a ton of Discworld this year, and it's as spectacular as ever. But what about new reads?

Well, here are my favorite books I read in 2023!

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado

This is an autobiographical memoir about the abusive relationship the author went through with her ex-girlfriend. It's absolutely gut-wrenching, and at times, achingly beautiful. Machado uses the house she shared with her girlfriend, which she calls the "dream house", as a back drop. It's a place she always wanted and also a place she became trapped in, Machado's language is beautiful as she explores the relationship from different lenses-- The Dream House as Lesbian Cult Classic, the Dream House as Noir, the Dream House as Creature Feature, the Dream House as Stoner Comedy....All facets of the relationship are explored in a way that grips you by the throat and makes you remember everyone who ever tried to suffocate you-- but it also explores the hard work of moving on, of picking up the pieces, of living and embracing tenderness along with hardship.

I especially related to Machado's struggle to talk about abuse between queer lovers because of her fears of giving homophobes more ammunition...and when she says "we deserve to have our wrongdoing represented as much as our heroism, because when we refuse wrongdoing as a possibility for a group of people, we refuse their humanity", I felt that deeply.

This wasn't just one of my favorite books this year, it goes on the list of all-time favorite books. I wish I had this kind of writing style. I'll be returning to this again and again.

Zachary Ying and the Dragon Emperor by Xiran Jay Zhao

A middle-grade novel about a Chinese-American teen who feels a bit alienated from his heritage, which becomes a bit of an issue once he finds out the First Emperor of China has possessed his A.R. Gaming Headset. Now he needs to close a portal to the underworld with the help of other kids possessed by emporers.

This was a whole lot of fun, and often quite poignant. I was unsure if I could really enjoy middle-grade books as an adult, and this absolutely proves I can. There's a lot of really interesting Chinese history blended with action-packed fantasy, and exploration of the complicated feelings a kid can have about their own heritage . The dynamic between Zachary and Qin Shi Huang was so entertaining with the Emperor being villainous, heroic, charismatic, detestable-- and Zachary realizing how his complicated feelings about him mirror his relationship with his culture at large. There was also a lot of fun with other historical figures, and Xiran's take on Wu Zetian is a joy. (Also, if you like Yu-Gi-Oh!, you'll probably like this, since Xiran says it was one of their influences).

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

Rose is young woman who's raised in a fundamentalist Christian household, and she's a devout, obedient daughter. But some weird things are happening. She's seeing a terrifying demon everywhere, insects are coming out of her mouth....and she's possibly having feelings about other girls. What's going on?

Yes, this is by the Chuck Tingle who makes all those Tinglers. But THIS one... will make you tingle with fear! It's a great horror novel! It's skin-crawlingly creepy at times, but also does a great job digging into how fundamentalist dogma harms queer people, and the hypocrisy of such beliefs. The conversion camp aspect is handled tastefully, and overall it was a great spooky read that's also ultimately very affirming, cathartic, and hopeful.

Qualia the Purple by Hisamitsu Ueo

You might go into this thinking it's just a quirky yuri light novel about a schoolgirl and her crush who sees everyone around her as robots (like literally, when she looks at someone she sees a robot instead of a human). But it quickly becomes surreal queer psychological horror steeped in absolutely wild applications of quantum mechanics and thought-provoking time travel.  Some of the quantum mechanics  exposition dumps were a bit much but I deeply enjoyed having my mind cracked open by this book. 

It's one of the most interesting takes of time loop stories I've seen. But it definitely covers a lot of rough subject matter, including a relationship with a serious age gap and extremely messed up relationships, so be cautious if you have triggers.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield

This book follows Miri, whose wife goes missing on a deep-sea submarine mission for six months. Miri thought her wife dead, but she miraculously returns one day...but her wife has changed. She's like a stranger. She may have bought the horrors of the sea home with her.

This is a gripping exploration of grief and loss combined with a delicious, slow horror that creeps under your skin. There's excellent Lovecraftian and body horror elements to the novel, but it works very effectively as a metaphor for a loved one going through trauma, and a relationship starting to crumble because everything seems different. A moment that really stuck out to me is when Miri copes with her wife's disappearance by frequenting an online community where women roleplay as wives with husbands missing in space. The way the online drama of the community interacted with her grief was  both funny and heartbreaking. 

This is another example of a book that makes me deeply jealous with its lyrical writing, and another one for the ever-lengthening all time favorites list.

Otherside Picnic Volume 8: Accomplices No More by Iori Miyazawa

The latest entry in a series about two girls exploring an alternate dimension full of creepypasta monsters, while also falling in love with each other. See my other reviews here and here.

This volume has the payoff to a lot of careful character work and relationship building, and it was completely satisfying. In fact, it was...show-stopping. Spectacular.  Incredible. I loved the exploration of how love, sex, and romance are so different for different people and it's impossible to put it in neat boxes. The frank and messy conversation our leads have about their relationship was perfect and so was that absolutely  bonkers, wonderful finale. This is another one for the all times favorite list, and I loved it so much I wrote a extremely long review/recap here. 

Queer Ducks (and Other Animals): The Natural World of Animal Sexuality by Eliot Schrefer

This was a well-researched, well-crafted, easy to read book that explores queerness (mainly homosexuality, bisexuality, trans and genderfluid expressions in animals, and even the question of if and how animals can related to gender) in the animal kingdom. Though it's definitely aimed at teens, I learned a lot from it (who knew female bonobos were such life goals) and it presented its information in a fun way. It included some interesting examinations of how proof of homosexuality and bisexuality in animals was historically suppressed and filtered through homophobic assumptions. If you want to learn a little animal science in an accessible format, definitely check this out.

Night’s Edge by Liz Kerin

The story follows Mia, a woman in her 20's living with her vampire mother. Her whole life revolves around not drawing suspicion towards her Mom. She also has to make sure to feed her Mom some of her blood every night--lest her mother fall back in with her abusive boyfriend and start hunting humans.  But when Mia meets a cute girl, she starts to dream of living her own life...

It was a really interesting use of vampirism as a metaphor for both living with a parent struggling with addiction and having an abusive parent. It's just a well-told, heartwrenching tale that got deep into the character's mindsets. I thought the ending was bit abrupt and rushed, but it did make more sense once I realized this was the first in a duology. It's a fascinating take on vampires, and I'm interested in seeing more.

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

This novel follows a middle-aged Muslim female pirate living around the Arabian Peninsula. She's supposed to be in retirement, but wouldn't you know it, she's lured in for one last job! I she rescues a kidnapped girl,  she'll have all the riches she needs to set her family up for life. So Amina begins her adventure of fighting demons and monsters and ex-husbands. But the job might not be all it seems.

This novel is full of all the entertaining swashbuckling action and shenanigans that any pirate story should have. It's a rollicking good time, and feeds my craving for middle aged women going on quests and kicking ass. Amina's journey is a fun, wild ride full of dynamic characters and interesting mythology!

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

Juniper is friends with a successful Chinese-American author, Athena Liu, and has always been deeply jealous of her. When Athena dies in front of her, Juniper decides to steal her manuscript rooted in Chinese history and claim it as her own. But plagiarism might catch up with her...

This is a strong example of a book I thought was really well-done, but one I'm probably never going to read again. The way it depicted Twitter drama is just too accurate and I got anxiety. It did such a good job putting you in Juniper's awful shoes so you can feel the pressure close in along with her. The book's commentary on the insidious racism of the publishing industry was effective, and it made a horrible character's journey fascinating to follow. I was so intrigued yet anxious I had to force myself to finish the last few pages.

Bonus read:

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldtree

A very cute novel about an orc named Viv who decides to retire from the violent life of a bounty hunter and run a coffee shop instead. She ends up getting a lot of assistance from a succubus named Tandri...and my, is that a slow-burn coffee shop romance brewing? This book reminds me a lot of various cozy slice-of-life anime, and it's nice to be getting more of that feeling in book form. I wish there was a little more specific to the fantasy world rather than making it a coffee shop that line up 1 to 1 to a modern day shop, but it was definitely a sweet read.