Scheduling + mini-rant
Feb. 27th, 2004 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rushthatspeaksSorry for the short notice: there WILL be Evangelion tonight, but NOT until 8:30 PM as I have to make my way back from Center City first.
Now the rant: Dammit, Mr. Card!
I saw the link to Orson Scott Card's rather impressively nasty rant on the subject of gay marriage last night, and have been thinking over carefully a) what he said b) what people have been saying in response to it. I have come to the following conclusions: 1) he is being bigoted, biased, homophobic and unfair. 2) So are the people I've seen commenting on his rant. I haven't seen any intelligent criticism yet beyond 'Well, I never liked his books'.
Hi. I do.
I've read about two-thirds of his work at this point, and have loved some of it very deeply since childhood. There is one thing that becomes absolutely obvious upon reading any significant quantity of Orson Scott Card whatsoever: the man is an extremely devout Mormon. His religion informs his outlook so deeply that the thing I have always found most remarkable about his writing is the fact that his religious beliefs are not more obvious in his work than they are. His finest work (in my opinion Ender's Game, Wyrms, Pastwatch, and the Alvin Maker series) either shows no trace of his religious affiliations or uses them in an interesting and universally relevant way. I admire this: he doesn't believe that fiction should be didactic, even though he occasionally slips into preaching when he does not intend to.
However. The man wrote a play on the life of Joseph Smith. The man wrote a textbook on the history of Mormonism. The man lives in Salt Lake City. Given that his essay on gay marriage is *not* his fiction, given that he is *not* trying with it to create art for a universal audience, given that his religion *does* turn up in his weaker fiction on a regular basis... was anybody expecting anything else from his essay than what it is?
I was expecting it, and it still made me cry. I found portions of it really quite deeply wounding, because they are the descent into irrationality by a man whose intelligence I have had cause to respect, and that is painful to see.
But. He has done great work in his field (whether you like his books or not, you've got to admit the importance to SF and the lasting influence of Ender's Game). He is an artist and has spent his life trying to be an artist. An artist deserves to be read and criticized by a thinking audience. An artist deserves to be wrestled with, to be mulled over, and to have artistic work evaluated on its own terms. An artist does not have to be agreed with. Many of the most important things I have learned from works of art have been in a white-hot fury of rage at the idea that anyone could possibly believe the things the creator of the work did. Tolstoy hated women: this does not make him a bad writer; this means that he is a great writer with whom I have serious contentions. Card is not one of the all-time greats. I don't think his prose will stand the test of time. But he is an important and interesting writer now, and will probably continue to be so for some while into the future. I will continue to read his work, and, if I like it enough, I will continue to buy it, because the work is not the man.
And it should not be treated as though it is.
Now the rant: Dammit, Mr. Card!
I saw the link to Orson Scott Card's rather impressively nasty rant on the subject of gay marriage last night, and have been thinking over carefully a) what he said b) what people have been saying in response to it. I have come to the following conclusions: 1) he is being bigoted, biased, homophobic and unfair. 2) So are the people I've seen commenting on his rant. I haven't seen any intelligent criticism yet beyond 'Well, I never liked his books'.
Hi. I do.
I've read about two-thirds of his work at this point, and have loved some of it very deeply since childhood. There is one thing that becomes absolutely obvious upon reading any significant quantity of Orson Scott Card whatsoever: the man is an extremely devout Mormon. His religion informs his outlook so deeply that the thing I have always found most remarkable about his writing is the fact that his religious beliefs are not more obvious in his work than they are. His finest work (in my opinion Ender's Game, Wyrms, Pastwatch, and the Alvin Maker series) either shows no trace of his religious affiliations or uses them in an interesting and universally relevant way. I admire this: he doesn't believe that fiction should be didactic, even though he occasionally slips into preaching when he does not intend to.
However. The man wrote a play on the life of Joseph Smith. The man wrote a textbook on the history of Mormonism. The man lives in Salt Lake City. Given that his essay on gay marriage is *not* his fiction, given that he is *not* trying with it to create art for a universal audience, given that his religion *does* turn up in his weaker fiction on a regular basis... was anybody expecting anything else from his essay than what it is?
I was expecting it, and it still made me cry. I found portions of it really quite deeply wounding, because they are the descent into irrationality by a man whose intelligence I have had cause to respect, and that is painful to see.
But. He has done great work in his field (whether you like his books or not, you've got to admit the importance to SF and the lasting influence of Ender's Game). He is an artist and has spent his life trying to be an artist. An artist deserves to be read and criticized by a thinking audience. An artist deserves to be wrestled with, to be mulled over, and to have artistic work evaluated on its own terms. An artist does not have to be agreed with. Many of the most important things I have learned from works of art have been in a white-hot fury of rage at the idea that anyone could possibly believe the things the creator of the work did. Tolstoy hated women: this does not make him a bad writer; this means that he is a great writer with whom I have serious contentions. Card is not one of the all-time greats. I don't think his prose will stand the test of time. But he is an important and interesting writer now, and will probably continue to be so for some while into the future. I will continue to read his work, and, if I like it enough, I will continue to buy it, because the work is not the man.
And it should not be treated as though it is.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-27 09:24 am (UTC)The fact that his religious beliefs clash with my world view does not make Unaccompanied Sonata any less beautiful, or A Plague of Butterflies any less intruiguing, or diminish the importance of Ender's Game in my development as a scifi/fantasy reader.
I think he has had some interesting things to say about faith and pressure and passion, but I'm sick and tired of the assumption that person=author=book.
-Amanda
no subject
Date: 2004-02-27 09:49 am (UTC)But, I was amazed at how consistently *not* religious his other books are; it's just not there. I can imagine a religious man writing books with some other type of religion in them, but I think it's impressive that he created books where religion doesn't play any role whatsoever, and the thought doesn't even really come up. For someone for whom religion is clearly so all-important to write a book without religion at all, I think that's fascinating.
-Phoenix
Card and God and Fiction
Date: 2004-02-27 10:09 am (UTC)What I find fascinating about his best works (in my opinion(Ender's Game, Unaccompanied Sonata, and especially Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus--I have not yet read enough of the Alvin Maker series to comment intelligently on it) is that I feel that they are inherently Christian in worldview, without being diadactic. (When I say Christian here, I mean it not in the sense of organized religious movements, but rather in the sense of grappling with your God and yourself--and committing to live a life where building a relationship with God and where love-of-and-respect-for-others are the central tenents and goals).
The issue of "the work is not the man" is one I have often wrestled with in my own thinking and writing, and in reading the fictions of others. In some respect, it must be true: I routinely write characters who are addicted to various types of drugs. These characters are not me, nor would I want them to be seen as such. However, I also believe that in each work of art, be it fiction, sculpture, or what-have-you, you consciously put a piece of yourself into the work--and in that respect, the work is the man (or woman). It's a very tricky question not easily answered, and I think that anyone who produces art of worth recognizes the possible duality of that statement and tries to work accordingly with it within their capacity to learn about themselves.