#of course a female Frankenstein would be just as capable of cruelty

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

Ok but what if Dr. Frankenstein was a woman? Would she have so callously rejected her own creation? Would maternal instinct have taken over and she'd have protected the monster at all costs? Or would this have taken a booktok turn, y'know? If you can't find the perfect man, just make it yourself.

Gosh, now I NEED a lighthearted Frankenstein AU where a very lonely scientist girlie creates a guy who won't reject her or accuse her of witchcraft just because she is an intelligent woman. So she creates the perfect Wattpad boyfriend. Made of corpses, ofc.

Bonus points if it took this long to finish her creation because she just couldn't find the perfect schlong to put in it.

[chvvva]

With each passing day, I become more and more aware of fandom dynamics and of what belonging to an organized subculture means. It’s no secret that fandom is a pretty old thing, but, and here’s the point of this introduction, though social network may have quickened and facilitated the process of people with the same interests from all over the world amazingly coming together, it also consistently fueled a fascinating phenomenon. Yes, I’m talking about those little mean anons and those walls of repetitive ass complaints preventing you from seeing content in the tags. In short, “hate”. Which represents the anti-movement and, it’s safe to safe to say at this point, a sub-subculture in and of itself. A few inputs before the actual rant:

From a neutral perspective, the Internet basically works like this: Immediate access to/diffusion of informations = Viral and limitless circulation.

And that’s great and positive,

but if your parents told you not to believe everything you read on the web to be true, now it’s time to remember that advice.

Because when free info distribution and limitless circulation make sweet love, it leads to increasing misinformation.

You’re misinformed when: you read someone else’s opinion and are firmly convinced that it is true without resources and/or factual proofs and qualified people confirming it.

Rings a few bells?

But fine, let’s say that those who condemn social issues, those who advocate, who do their best to promote healthy and open mindsets, those who want some kind of progress, aren’t spending 90% of the time they could be dedicating to those important causes… on the Internet > The place where sometimes - sometimes, but it happens - questionably subversive arguments are worded better than motivational speeches. This can be proven by looking at any post containing words like; “fetishization”; everything ending with “-phobia”; “harmful”; no, I’m not making these up, they’re the literal parody of terms with a heavy emotional impact. It doesn’t matter if they lack meaning. They can affect people on different degrees, but rest assured that the chance of someone not reacting to them [on a subconscious level] is pretty slim. All in all, these words serve their purpose very well. Now let’s put misinformation aside, let’s put data indigestion aside, as well as fragile contestations, lack of investigation, and idealistic visions of societies where we all think the same way.

So, fast forward.

I want to talk about fandoms. Who am I kidding, this was originally 100% about the Killing Stalking fandom. Except between discussing dark content in media, and fandom culture, and looking up precedents, such as Strikethrough (when I say antis remind me of radical religious groups I’m not shitting you but I wish I was), the point became wider. And clearer.

Everything you’ll read from this point on boils down to: Art is bad. Art exists to be bad.

I won’t claim these are my words, people - far more intelligent than me - have been having the same intuition since ancient times.

Homer’s Iliad is about war, mourning and death. It glorifies them on cosmic levels. I have read the Iliad two times. Wow, I guess I think dying is fun.

Euripides’ most famous play, Medea, is about a mother murdering her sons, then escaping. She’s the heroine of the play. In ancient Greece, plays were performed during festivals in public theatres. And I’ll tell you more: citizens who couldn’t afford the ticket participated anyway, because the government paid it for them. That’s because everyone, and I mean literally everyone, was encouraged to witness “wrong, controversial, absolutely vile” things as long as they happened on the stage.

On a lighter note, it’s possible for art to be simply amoral, since it’s how it’s always been, and always will be, as long as we’ll be entitled to free speech. Authors make choices. Either they put their beliefs and opinions into their work or they don’t.

Literature swims in the murkier waters of the human condition.

I’m going to go a little bit into this. When we talk about the horror genre, we should consider its origins. I’m sure you’re familiar with the piece of literature that lied the foundations of this genre, or at least with its renowned title. “Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus” was published in London on New Year’s Day, 1818, and “there was no author named on the title page, and readers and reviewers, almost to a person, assumed the book had been written by a man. They were mistaken.” (New York Times) We modern readers and reviewers, however, know that the Gothic novel that has enjoyed the most enduring popular success was written by a woman. And she was not the first one. Richard Davenport-Hines takes us back to the 18th century, years before Frankenstein was even a draft: “A significant amount of horror fiction of this era was written by women and marketed at a female audience, a typical scenario being a resourceful female protagonist menaced in a gloomy castle.” (Gothic: 1500 Years of Excess, Horror, Evil and Ruin. 1998.) Knowing that women have given a remarkable imprint to the horror genre made me think quite a lot. Is it possible to assume that gothic/horror/psychological are, in fact, some of the few narratives women had (and continue to have) such a deep impact on? And why is that? Answering these questions would be as difficult as determining the brain mechanism that leads us to actively seek the thrill of a good horror movie. And if you claim that a the horror genre is good only when it explicitly condemns bad and vile things, you need to read more books. If you haven’t even thumbed through Frankenstein, you’re probably unaware of its controversiality. I must admit, much as death is depicted with violent and terrifying tones, it’s nothing compared to other works of fiction I’ve met. But what really sticks to you after an afternoon spent between those pages, is human cruelty, as well as the utterly disarming human inclination to error. It sticks to you because it is real. When you pass judgement against fiction for influencing reality, I think it’s a far fetched, if not plainly wrong assumption, because that is not the nature of this relationship, which is simple. Fiction draws elements from the real world. Just what is necessary. Conversely, reality isn’t bended by fiction; and Darwin knew there was no way of Shelley’s tale happening just as well as she did. The extreme and profound emotions her book explores, however, belong to a human’s inner dimension. As debatable as they may be, or precisely because they are debatable, they belong to the pages of a book.

I find kind of hilarious how only a century later a horror story, written by a woman, ends up in young people’s hands and it is immediately considered inexcusable and “nasty” because of “amoral content.”

If you followed me until now, it won’t be hard to understand the next point. Pleasure can be amoral. Either people put their beliefs and opinions into what they love or they don’t. Often, these factors play a big part on what catches our attention; but that’s not mandatory, as I certainly don’t think murdering your son is a nice family activity. Medea is still one of my favorite plays. In school, no one told me this would make me a “murder apologist”.

Whenever it became progressive and almost natural to overlap an author’s, or even a reader’s conscience to a character’s, for whatever reason, I’m sure art will never be really free from this prejudice. My guess is that people simply aren’t able to separate the concept of something real from the concept of a parallel reality [fiction] in which ethical and physical laws aren’t applied in the same way. (And some people might feel so out of place and insecure about their own morals that as soon as moral integrity is questioned for its inflexible nature, the world crumbles down.)

There’s someone out there who will read this and be condescending (I get a tiny bit pretentious, especially since my safe zone is involved) but I don’t really care as long as there’s polite debate.

The article that encouraged me to write down my opinion, while being a superficial source, is an interesting one:

“Literature swims in the murkier waters of the human condition. Conflict and matters of life and death, of freedom and oppression—it is the business of books to explore these themes, and the business of teenagers, too.

New brain mapping research suggests that adolescence is a time when teens are capable of engaging deeply with material, on both an intellectual level as well as an emotional one. Some research suggests that during adolescence, the parts of the brain that processes emotion are even more online with teens than with adults, (something that will come as absolutely no surprise to any parent of a teenager). So, developmentally, teens are hungry for more provocative grist while emotionally they’re thirsty for the catharsis these books offer. Of course teens are drawn to darker, meatier fare.” (Gayle Forman, novelist - interviewed by Time)

What I’m saying is that art is vile. But the real world is also vile. Where’s the catch? Which part of this comes as a surprise?

Here goes the true shocking reveal, though: discouraging the creation of bad art isn’t a way to make reality significantly less bad. Let me put this more straightforwardly.

Censorship means taking away one of the most important human rights, while me writing a story in which a character thinks abuse isn’t a bad thing doesn’t violate any.

At this point, someone could argue that surely I’m not being sensible to abuse survivors, but the reason why I get away with it and Unfriendly Anon doesn’t is that I don’t do anything to directly and purposefully affect another person. So I’m good. Hate to break it down to you, but I’m not in charge of every single person on this site any more than you’re in charge of me and of my feelings. Or of minors and their feelings. Or of survivors and their feelings.

I’ve probably left something out, but hopefully the main points came across clearly. It’s fine if you don’t agree with them. Maybe make sure to understand what you’re talking about before you do broadcast your thoughts.