Blips on the Radar, and a Bit about Fighting Boobs

Messed up a batch of fudge this week. Now have an excellent Ziploc tub of chocolate sauce to eat alone or on ice cream.

Got a long-term temp position, and lost it, all in the course of a week. Apparently I am not enough of the sort of person who thrives on stress, and they didn't think I'd survive tax season. Hey, I survived graduate school, with my intellectual self-worth intact, no less. But I guess that's not my call. But I'm not bitter.

Did a little research for an upcoming conversation in my fic. At a pivotal juncture Elisabeth is quoting T.S. Eliot, and I wanted the right bits from "Prufrock" and The Waste Land. I should mention, by the by, that Elisabeth is much more of a Lymond than I am. I mean, I do quote things at random and sometimes even at length, but I am not quite so adept at using poetry and philosophy for subterfuge as Elisabeth is. Giles, who after all was born during the height of the New Criticism, merely says: "Would you leave Prufrock out of this?"

Like me, however, Elisabeth has Fighting Boobs. I have been made aware several times in the course of the last eight years that when I get mad I throw my shoulders back and stick out my chest like a little bantam cock. When you're male, you just make the bantam cock analogy and move on; but when you're female and your chest has two fleshy protuberances on it, it becomes funny. No wonder nobody takes me seriously when I get mad. Unfortunately for Elisabeth, I have given her the same problem. If she's going to be a mirror to Giles, I figure her struggle for dignity should be an equally losing battle.

Given that the story's written by a person who once lamented, "My life has donkey's ears!", it shouldn't be too difficult.

Narrative Wedgies

The time has come for my very spoilerific review of Order of the Phoenix. So those who do not want to be spoiled may keep the spoiler space between them and knowledge of Book 5.

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Was deeply impressed by Book 5. I hate phrases like "the author has really hit her stride" and so on, but I feel that JKR's craft has steadily improved since the first book, and with this book has made a visible improvement even over Goblet of Fire. She doesn't feel the need to spell every bloody thing out anymore; she lets the characters speak for themselves. A case in point: When Umbridge throws Trelawney out in front of the whole school, it is, Harry notices, Professor McGonagall who looks ill and then goes to comfort her and help her to get back to her rooms. JKR just narrates this scene; she feels no need to tell the reader, "And in case you weren't paying attention the last two books, McGonagall has no respect for Sybill Trelawney and her teaching methods. She must really hate Umbridge, to side with Trelawney like that." JKR has learned more how to let well alone, and her scenes are stronger for it. This is not to say that JKR does not still sometimes rely too heavily on the emotive adverbs and the italics--CAPITAL LETTERS--ITALICIZED CAPITAL LETTERS to carry the pitch of her scenes ("Harry said darkly", "said Hermione guiltily"); but even with this peccadillo (one I've come to have an affection for, so it can't be that bad), she is still letting her characters carry the burden of the story. Fred and George, for instance, bear the sad tidings of Percy; Hermione explains that Ginny's increased confidence around Harry is due to her getting a boyfriend; Ron's responses to his prefecture and his Quidditch responsibilities, taken all together over the course of the book, reflect his growth without too heavy a touch or too unbelievable a change.

Particularly gobsmacking was the scene in St. Mungo's where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny meet Neville and his grandmother. Neville's grandmother explains their presence to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny; Neville's mother comes out to offer Neville a gum wrapper; Neville surreptitiously puts it into his pocket; and he and his grandmother leave the others in consternation and grief. Their silence is then broken by Lockhart saying, "Look, I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!" This is one of the dexterities of JKR's writing: to introduce a little bit of humor at the end of a dark scene and make the darkness all the more satisfyingly moving.

I found myself -- well, not strangely -- unmoved at the scene of Sirius's death. I am not sure whether this is an index of my emotional disengagement, or if it's just really hard to write painful scenes and keep the reader coming with you through the fire. I do not cry at sad movies, weddings, funerals, or other horrific scenes. I did not cry when Francis Crawford was forced to sacrifice a child's life to win a human chess game in Dorothy Dunnett's Pawn in Frankincense. So I do not think necessarily that JKR wrote that part badly. Harry's response to this -- crowning his response to everything that has happened to him in this book -- is more powerful for me than it has been before. I find his grief for Sirius more believable than his previous hatred for Sirius and determination to kill him.

Which brings me to Harry and his anger. I think it's about time he started losing patience with his enforced ignorance. He was interrupted in his first-ever (that I recall) attempt at real weeping in the last book, by Hermione's capture of the Rita-beetle; and since then he has been held at the Dursleys' incommunicado -- from within and without. He bites off Ron's and Hermione's heads, and they keep their patience with him, but show him clearly where the line is. His "saving-people-thing" leads him to make plans that blow up in his face despite his very satisfying success at teaching other students Defense Against the Dark Arts. I am quite avid by now to find out how Harry will act next.

The Occlumency arc. Some very familiar things -- Snape's smooth contempt for Harry, Harry's mental block when studying something difficult -- combine with new things -- their mutual discovery that they have had equally difficult lives -- to create the brilliant chemistry between them that I have been hoping for for three years. Again, JKR doesn't lean too heavily on the implications of their confrontation; she lets them carry the burden of the change in their relationship. So that by the end, when Harry tells Snape explicitly that he was trying to curse Malfoy when Snape interrupted, Snape's response hardly achieves the irascible spite he's been known for the last four years, and in fact he requires the appearance of Professor McGonagall to carry off his attempt at punishing Harry believably. Both Harry and Snape are so startled by what's happened to their relationship that merely remaining in denial is not enough to keep them from struggling to maintain their appearance of enmity for the sake of the Order -- Harry in front of Umbridge and Snape in front of Malfoy. Not that they're all lovey-dovey or anything; I'm just saying that they've both been deeply unsettled, and again I'm avidly looking forward to the turns this chemistry of theirs will take.

Ginny and Ron. I cheered throughout the book at the emergence of Ginny's strength both as a character and as a player in the fight against Voldemort. Her calling Harry out when he avoided everyone in fear that he'd been possessed by Voldemort, her affinities with Fred and George -- all of them ringingly justify the brilliance of Arabella's fanfic "The Very Secret Diary" -- and more. Ron...well, I'd love to dwell a lot on Ron, but I think that will require a whole nother post and I want to get in some work on Chapter 15 this evening.

Oh, and I suppose I'd better explain the title of this post. I think RJA won't mind me quoting our IM conversation:

Me: I LOVED the whole Occlumency arc.
RJA: Yes, it's really cool, isn't it?
Me: I just loved the whole way JKR prolonged and prolonged the enmity between Snape and Harry, like stretching out this big rubber band, and then snapped them both with it. Very satisfying.
RJA: *snickers*
RJA: Sorry, that metaphor just made me think of an underwear waistband.
Me: narrative wedgies?
RJA: Zzzzing! "Ouch!"

And I think that JKR, having given us all another narrative wedgie, well deserves a shout of praise.

Things I Said to My Roommate While Reading Order of the Phoenix

"Hermione's not taking any bullsh*t this book."
"There's lots of throwing up in this book. Some of it's actually kinda funny, and you know how I hate gag gags."
*stifles scream of laughter* "Oh my God! Oh, sorry, it's just -- Fred and George -- "
"For the second time, someone has called someone a berk!" (little side squees about Giles in "Earshot")
"And Fred and George ride off into the sunset..."
"Shh! I'm at the exciting part!"
"Oh, man, I just have to read you the last line of this chapter -- it's Lockhart -- 'I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!'" ("Well, joined-up writing is hard," she said with a smirk.)

Things I Said to Myself While Reading Order of the Phoenix

"Hmm, this reminds me a bit of Chaim Potok's The Chosen."
"But Ginny didn't go to the Yule Ball...unless she snuck in."
"DIE, Umbridge!"
"Boy, she wasn't kidding when she said Harry was a lot angrier."
"I wonder what the tune for 'Weasley is Our King' is?...Hmm, no, not 'God Save the Queen.' 'You'll Never Walk Alone?'...No, can't be that either. 'Camptown Races' fits okay, without the doo-dahs...except Malfoy is hardly likely to know a Muggle tune, especially an American one. Of course, it could have an original tune...it probably does...Anyway, good to see Ron getting a bit of heckling on his own account -- and getting the better of it, too."
"Oy, Harry. First you describe your first kiss as 'wet', just like Ray did in Rain Man -- and now you John Gray it with your date! Seeing as Hermione did not see fit to reach over and slap your head, allow me..."
Speaking of head-slapping: "We interrupt this moment of sympathy for Neville Longbottom to hit Ron up the back of the head. There. Thank you. Carry on."
Snape: "I knew it! I knew he and Harry would get one-on-one time! And it about went as expected, too." *loves them both*
"Huzzah! Huzzah! Ginny -- Ron -- Quidditch -- hurray!"
"H'm, never thought I'd feel sorry for Trelawney."
"Hurray for Ginny! Hurray for Ginny! Calling Harry out, ooer!"
"And the Bat Bogey Curse." *F&G-like grin*
And talking of Fred and George: "Bloody hell -- they -- umm -- wow."
"Yes, this really does remind me of The Chosen."

Will be posting other more spoilerish thoughts behind other people's cut tags.

A Little Note on Buffy

Kathy asked if my portrayal of Buffy in my fic indicates that I don't like her much.

On the contrary, I like Buffy a lot -- but I'm thinking there's just no way she's going to be favorably disposed toward Elisabeth, especially if she's (gasp) flirting with Giles. In addition, she's rather strung out at this point in the timeline, and I can't see her having too much patience with this whole escapade.

I'm mostly drawing on Buffy's attitude and responses during the S4 ep "Living Conditions." Buffy's getting more and more convinced that Elisabeth's dissembling about her presence in this dimension (which, of course, she is -- about her knowledge of the future). Add to that the fact that everyone seems to accept Elisabeth whether or not they actively like her, and voila! the Buffy demonic radar is up and seeking. Buffy will redeem herself later in the fic, but things will get worse before they get better.

And anyway, I had to play with this whole big Mary Sue trope of Everyone Liking the OC, And The People Who Don't Being Bad People. Buffy's not bad, but she doesn't like Elisabeth, either. We'll see how this pans out.

Woo-hoo!

Chapter 14's up, everybody -- sooner than I thought. I must say that I am indebted to Jessica and Liz for the bit about the spork.

*does the New Chapter Dance*

Enjoy!

A Few Unfocused Notes on Women and Sex

Bet that got your attention, didn't it? Next to FREE FOOD, sex is the ultimate gimmick.

This, however, may not hold the attention of everyone; I am merely reviewing a book whose title I don't remember (I think it may have been something like "Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry"), by a woman whose name I never recognized. I saw it on the New Releases shelf of a Christian bookstore about six months ago, and I was too busy to be duly irritated by its premise, which I gleaned from the back cover.

In fact, I am reacting ultimately not even to the premise of the book, but to a sentence in its description which set many bells a-ringin' in my head.

Enough buildup. The book was written by a woman for women, and its purpose was to encourage women (especially young ones) to resist the sexual advances of men in the interest of chastity and personal well-being. Its arguments were meant to dismantle the idea that young women needed to give in to sexual invitations in order to have a sense of self-worth and the worth of masculine judgment. Almost parenthetically, it argued that there was a better way to live than to support this vicious circle, and a way that would reduce our dependence on "sexual release for ourselves."

It was that last phrase that sounded the alarms. I have no agenda against chastity, or the support of chastity, or the intrinsic benefits of chastity; but I do object to the characterization of female sexuality as something that needs "release." Something about that characterization suggests that even though we appear to be recouping our sense of worth by not giving in to male attentions, "we" still consider our own sexuality as something secondary, something optional -- or I should say, something that ought to be optional, and that that's how Good Women think of their sexuality.

I'm not denying that the sexual impulse in men is generally more focused and insistent than it is in women. Nor am I suggesting that sexuality ought to be enthroned as the utmost pinnacle of health and normalcy. But I certainly don't think that sexuality is less healthy and normal than other modes of human, and female, life. And I get suspicious of any argument that mentions female sexual "release" only to dismiss it with the same breath. Why not sexual "nourishment" or some other word...you know, I've been digging in my brain for a word synonymous with "satisfaction" that doesn't carry the connotation either of Achilles' wrath or gluttony.

Which makes me think. In times of my life in which I am the most graciously sated, physically or psychologically or spiritually, there is in fact a sense of release: the release of the energies gunning for whatever fruition I was seeking. And in the best times -- the times in which the good thing is laid into my hands without my even having to ask for it -- I find I really can let go completely (for a blessed moment) of the throttle of my various drives. But notice how it happens. The negative "release" becomes a positive because it is preceded by a true positive, a reception, a receiving, a gift, a gain...are you following me? Screwtape says that tempting humans to lust can be tedious, because it is difficult to do so without letting in the fruition of pleasure, which itself is not sin at all and is even sometimes counter-productive to the demonic agenda. And yet the feminine sexual pleasure is characterized not by the receiving of the actual pleasure, but the "release" of the drive toward that pleasure -- the sun's corona, not the sun itself. Ultimately, this characterization implies that female sexual pleasure can only be realized as Not-lust.

I'm sorry to say it, but without the realized object, the pleasures of Not-lust run a bit thin. Actually, I'm not at all sorry to say it; that was just rhetorical. "Sexual release for ourselves" is indeed a poor recompense for submitting to that vicious cycle of male judgment, desire, and worth -- a cycle, I should add, that causes men to suffer as well as women. Therefore one could just as well argue that a woman could seek out positive sexual gifts for herself, as abstain from sexual relationships or pleasures; either one would solve that problem just as well. The difficulty is that the book was making a direct appeal for female chastity, with a central feminist value as incentive. This does a disservice both to the value of chastity and to the value of female freedom. By presuming that no woman who was really a good person would think of, let alone desire, a positive sexual fruition, the book -- and I do reiterate that I didn't actually read the thing -- damages its argument for chastity, rendering it, and the women who buy it, as secondary, as optional, as they were to begin with, and possibly even worse off.

The pursuit of chastity is difficult -- not least because the cross-section of pleasures which it denies is a positive good. I find it difficult to think of anything more to say on that point that is not mere festooning. Most people don't really pursue it, partially because they are in fact caught up in the vicious cycle, and partially because they don't value the fruition of chastity more than the fruition of (unchaste) sexual activity. The worst part, of course, is that the argument presented still views chastity as a female virtue and responsibility, an all-or-nothing prescription that can't ignore female sexuality altogether but gives it a gentle push out-of-doors with the epithet of "sexual release". Wouldn't it be much more of a relief to say that yes, indeed, women have a sexuality and sexual desires, and yes, that's quite all right, and yes, like many good things they sometimes get in the way of a moral goal, and yes, it will therefore be difficult to pursue the goal? Than to wheedle, Wouldn't you feel so much better about yourself if you didn't want boys, little girl? Shhyeah, maybe, but never happen, man.

I buy that, I'm doomed to feel bad about myself forever.

Feeling a bit better now. I may have work tomorrow, and I have a little bit of money, and Order of the Phoenix is coming this weekend, and life is less of a howling wilderness than it was this ack emma. Have worked a little on Chapter 14, as well. To cheer Natasha up about her hair (though Quebec is a far better anodyne, and I congratulate her), I gave her some teasers about the new chapter, and my readers may be pleased to note that I have accomplished all but one of them so far:

-- Rogue Latin phrase, check.
-- The return of Xander, check.
-- Elisabeth throwing a grape at Giles, coming soon.

AND, J.S. Bach, John Lennon, and Paul McCartney all have cameos. Mine is an equal-opportunity music fic. Well, not really, but it is eclectic.

Plus, ta-da! may I announce the appearance of real, honest-to-goodness UST. Finally.

Oh! and one more thing: I have also worked in an Eddie Izzard reference. I could scarcely have kept him out, you know.

I Invite You to Ignore This Post

I have no money. I have even less money than I thought I did. I am one step away from calling the Pink Cadillac down the street and applying for a job.

I am apparently bankrupt also as a friend and a person who lives with other people, and didn't know it, but was living on a short credit line which is now maxed out.

I am a cardboard box on the side of the road, and there are rainstorms coming.

That is all.

UPDATE: I have a little more money in savings than I thought. And the reason my old checking account was overdrawn is because AOL didn't cancel my account like I told them to. Wankers. I'm going to call and give them a piece of my mind. Anyway, phew. I am still rather depressed, but, phew. And Chapter 14 is coming along nicely, so that is something of the good.

No 'Tales of Brave Ulysses', But No Seals and Croft Either

Yes, it's that time again, ladies and jellyspoons -- time to mosey on over to the Ink and Penwipers LP shelf and flip through the Author's Cache of Broken Records...

Hmm, Magic, Words, and Contemporary Religion. It's got that fruity metaphorical jive going for it, but I seem to have misplaced the liner notes, so...no.

Fandom! the Musical. I think this will be more appropriate after Amazon delivers my Order of the Phoenix on Saturday the 21st.

So Far. No, not Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young -- it's an LP of wibbling about my fic. Eugh. "Helplessly hoping he waits by the window -- he wonders --" very good alliterative verse there -- were there any English majors among CSNY? This English major remembers drawing in purple crayon on the LP cover of her parents' copy of So Far; it was quite appropriate given the cover art.

Car Model Names and other Ridiculous Things. A revue after the fashion of Tom Lehrer. But Jessica did that already, so, no. Though I must put in for the ridiculousness of both the name of the Honda Element and its design: it looks like a cardboard box on wheels.

Golliwog's Cakewalk? What's this doing in here?

Sigh. I think I will wait to put on a disc until after the weekend, which is going to be eventful. The bishop is coming to do the House Blessing on the Rivendell House, and I am taking intial promises as a Companion, for which I shopped for something red (it being Pentecost this weekend), but came home with something blue and something black. The something blue is summery, so I'm going to wear it. I think. Maybe.

*flips over all the LPs into a heap on the shelf*

In between bouts of serious spring cleaning and rearranging of our rooms upstairs, I have managed to finish Chapter 13. *does little dance* Enjoy!

Real blogging will follow later.