Tag Archives: reading

Crowdsourcing: Graphic novels! edition

Here’s the scoop: Despite the fact that I am sort of a cartoonist and “into” graphic art, I am, sadly, not totally on the up-and-up when it comes to comics and graphic novels! So, I need recommendations from you fine FWD commenters for a project that I will be starting on rather soon. I am mostly looking for autobiographical comic/graphic novels, comics/graphic novels having to do with illness or disability, race, and/or gender and sexuality (I prefer non-fiction for these categories),  and comics/graphic novels that cover awkward situations in childhood, adolescence, or young adulthood (fictional or not).  Also, how-to books (such as Eisner’s Comics and Sequential Art, which I already own and have dog-earred to infinity) are also welcome as suggestions, as I will definitely need inspiration.

Here’s a list of stuff I already have that is in one or more of the above categories: One! Hundred! Demons! (Barry, 2002); Fun Home (Bechdel, 2006); Funny Misshapen Body (Brown, 2002); The Spiral Cage (Davison, 1992); Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person (Engelberg, 2008); Jokes and the Unconscious (Gottleib and DiMassa, 2006) Stitches (Small, 2009), American Born Chinese (Yang, 2006) [thank you to my fellow blogger Anna for reminding me of this one].


[Cross-posted to ham blog in a slightly different form]

A conversation

Recently, I was on the commuter train home. I happened to be reading Susan Schweik’s book Ugly Laws: Disability in Public for a research paper. Two middle-aged women sat down opposite me, and one inquired as to what book I was reading.

Me: It’s a book about 20th-century ugly laws in the U.S.

Woman #1: What’re those?

Me: Oh, they were regulations that prevented people with visible disabilities from panhandling in public, but more generally, they also kept people with disabilities out of the public eye.

Woman #2: Wow, that is so interesting! Are you in school?

Me: Yes, I’m reading this for a grad school paper.

Woman #1: You’re lucky you’re in grad school! The great thing about being in school is that you get to learn about things you might otherwise never learn about.

Me: Yeah, I suppose so.

Woman #1: And…why are you interested in that topic?

Me: I’m interested in feminist theory and disability, and how those things intersect with race, gender and class, and other stuff. That’s the short version, anyway.

Woman #1 [After a long pause]: Of course, I didn’t mean to imply that you are disabled or have a deformity

Me: Uh, okay. [Pause] You can’t see it, but I do have chronic pain.

And the conversation sort of stopped after that. For some reason, I suspect that this is not an uncommon occurrence.

On Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter: It’s not ok for police to immobilise PWD for questioning

This post is not spoily for the Dexter TV series to date, except perhaps for the premise. It contains a very minor spoiler for an event that occurs at the start of Dexter By Design. Comments may contain spoilers up to the Chapter Ten of Dexter by Design, but no further please..

At the moment I’m reading Dexter by Design (2009), by Jeff Lindsay. It is the fourth book in the Dexter series, a thriller/crime series with a touch of spec fic, set in current-day Miami. Dexter Morgan and his foster sister Deb are both police officers working in homicide; Dexter a blood-spatter expert and Deb a sergeant. Dexter is also a serial killer, brought up by his police officer foster dad to follow “The Code”, to only kill murderers who have escaped justice, and to not get caught.

Last night I read the scene below, and it hit all my rage buttons. Coming on the heels of the Ayr incident where a police officer stolen a woman’s mobility scooter, and the episode in Colorado where a teacher duct taped a disabled 12-year-old’s only communicative hand to his wheelchair, it was all too much.

The scene is excerpted below the cut. Additional warning for lots of taboo language; NSFW.

Continue reading On Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter: It’s not ok for police to immobilise PWD for questioning

Recommended Reading for June 1, 2010

fiction_theory (LJ): The internet IS real life

The problem with impeaching someone’s anti-racism based on attendance at a specific march or even public rallies and protests in general is that it assumes that a) attending such events is a more real, valid, and important means of expressing anti-racism than any other means, specifically online and b) that attendance is a feasible option for everyone.

Marching at a rally or attending a protest is all well and good, but it’s not something that is an option for everyone. It’s quite ablist to ask such a question as though the privilege of being able to attend excludes the antiracist work of those who use other venues.

Mattilda at Nobody Passes: Closer

Somewhere between sleep and awake, a new day and last night and tomorrow, like they’re all in a circle around me but I’m somewhere in bed where I can almost read the sentences except they blur away from me, and I keep thinking maybe sleep, maybe this is more sleep except I don’t know if I want more sleep.

thefourthvine (DW): [Meta]: The Audience

I will not bring up my disability, because I don’t talk about it here, except to say that if that part of me appears in a story, it will be as either a clever gimmick (and a chance for a main character to grow as a person) or a sob story (and a chance for a main character to grow as a person). (No, there will never be a main character just like me. Most of the time I think that’s normal, and then I look at, say, SF and think standard-issue straight white guys must have a whole different experience on this issue. How weird would it be, to have basically all mainstream media written for you like that?)

Ian Sample (at The Guardian online): Bone marrow transplants cure mental illness — in mice

The team, led by a Nobel prizewinning geneticist, found that experimental transplants in mice cured them of a disorder in which they groom themselves so excessively they develop bare patches of skin. The condition is similar to a disorder in which people pull their hair out, called trichotillomania.

lustwithwings at sexgenderbody: Do I Owe Everything I am to The Internet?

Despite their lack of a body, my friends are still quite active in the world of Social Networking which acts on the physical world in much the same way things on our mind do. The contents of the Internet affect the physical world through many of the same processes as the contents of a mind, yet the contents of the Internet as a public mind can affect many more minds, and many more bodies than a private mind.

Thoughts On A Book: Scott Westerfeld’s ‘Uglies’

Spoiler Notes: This post does contain some spoilerish material about Uglies. If you haven’t read the book yet you might want to wait to read this because it mentions a big reveal which is rather central to the plot! I have isolated it in its own spoilery paragraph for the benefit of those who would like to go ahead and read this anyway.

I recently finished Uglies, which isn’t about disability, but does have some themes which I think are disability related, which I used as a justification for writing about it here because I think it’s a really interesting book and it touches upon some intriguing themes and material. It’s actually the first in a series, as I learned when I got to the end and was like “but what happens next?!” and then saw the bit advertising the next book in the series.

The world of Uglies is one in which everyone is surgically altered at 16 to look more or less the same. To look, in fact, “pretty.” This homogenised society is supposed to be less filled with strife and argument because everyone is beautiful and has also had the experience of being “ugly,” and the logic of the modifications is very much based in evolutionary psychology; people are modified to be highly symmetrical and to appear “vulnerable” and so forth.

When the story opens, we are introduced to the lead character while she is still an “Ugly” and eagerly looking forward to the surgery. But she meets another character who introduces her to an alternative: Running away to join a community of people who do not undergo modification. This character, Shay, is very opposed to the very idea of modification, even repulsed by it. Our hero just wants to be pretty and go to all the pretty parties and is very resistant to the whole idea.

As a reader, I immediately felt a parallel here with cure evangelism. In the society we live in, it is assumed that everyone wants to be cured and in fact cures are forced upon us, just like the surgery in Uglies. “It’s for your own good,” the argument goes, and ample arguments are mustered to show you how terrible things will be if you are not cured. In Uglies, children are taught from birth that the worst thing in the world is to be “ugly” and they are presented with “Pretties” as models of perfection.

The “Uglies” give each other nicknames based on supposedly ugly aspects of their bodies. They bodyshame themselves and each other and eagerly look forward to the time when they will be “Pretties.” Once Prettified, people are modified later into Middle Pretties, once they reach adulthood and start working, and then again as they transition into old age, but naturally aged people don’t exist. A society of perfection is hardly a new thing in science fiction, but it’s still interesting to see how different authors play with the concept.

One of the great parts of the book is one in which some sly arguments against evolutionary psychology are presented. Our lead character, Tally, insists that she’s genetically programmed to like the Pretties and that it’s just natural, and one of the characters who  has chosen not to be modified is highly skeptical. As she’s arguing with him, she starts to realize that his unchanged body actually has some appeal of its own despite the fact that he is an “Ugly.” He points out that she’s been taught and trained to hate herself and that her “Ugly” body is actually beautiful in its own right, and she starts to think about how maybe the things she hates about herself are things which will resolve as she gets older and grows into her body.

[Spoilery paragraph!]The big reveal in Uglies is that the surgery doesn’t just modify the body. It also alters the mind. Most people who undergo the surgery are left with  lesions which change their personalities, literally taking parts of themselves away. This, too, reminds me of cure evangelism. It is assumed that a cure holds no costs, that people remain themselves after being cured and thus that everyone should desire to be cured, when in fact this is not the case. The book also points out that some people die during the surgery, just as some people die in medical treatment; these decisions are not without costs.[/spoilery paragraph!]

Uglies unfortunately doesn’t touch upon racial issues very much. I’m hoping that this changes with the series because it seems like an obvious thing to explore in a book series about a society which is homogenised to an extreme degree. Uglies seemed to be leaning in the direction of a whitened world, and I would really like to see some people of colour introduced in later books; the story of this book has parallels with both racial identities and disability, and the erasure of both, along with cultural assumptions about erasure being beneficial or even desirable.

At its root, Uglies is about norming and insisting that everyone fit into that norm, no matter what the cost might be, and having people outside the norm challenge this social attitude. I know that’s something which resonated with me as a reader, and I suspect that the same might hold true for some of you as well.

Question Time: What Do You Like to Read?

Question Time is a series in which we open up the floor to you, commenters. We invite you to share as you feel comfortable.

Bookwise, I mean.

By which, I mean, what kind of books do you like to read? Do you read different books at different times, depending on your mood and what else is going on? Are there specific genres you are drawn to? Do you  need to read one book at a time, or can you read multiple books at once? For people who have the choice, do you prefer to read books, or listen to them? Do you sometimes use books as assistive devices, and, if so, how?

Book Review: Bright-Sided: How Positive Thinking Has Undermined America by Barbara Ehrenreich

A word of caution: This review is going to be quite short, as I have been struggling with “getting words out” for the past few days. Regardless, I think this is an important book, and might be of interest to my fellow FWD-ers (bloggers and commenters!).

I touched upon the whole positive thinking movement (and why it offends me) at this very blog a while back; I’ve long had problems with the “Just think POSITIVE!” suggestion and attendant movement, and one piece that really got to the root of things, at least for me, was Ehrenreich’s 2001 essay, “Welcome to Cancerland,” which is about how positive thinking–bejewelled and be-ribboned with a heaping helping of traditional femininity and stereotypes about women, and particularly women who have survived breast cancer–has, for lack of a better word, swallowed the breast cancer “awareness” movement. [The essay is available at her website.] A revised version of the essay appears as the opening chapter to Bright-Sided, and Ehrenreich adds just enough salient facts to make reading the newer version worthwhile and not at all confusing to non-sciencey types like myself. (Ehrenreich has a PhD in Cell Biology.)

That said, the remainder of Bright-Sided proved to be a fast, engaging read. In fact, I wish it had been longer, and one chapter that could have used an expansion was the closing chapter on positive thinking’s effect on the recent U.S. economic crash. The book is also extremely U.S.-centric, but since positive thinking is one of those things that seems to have really taken flight in the North American consciousness, this is not particularly surprising. Unfortunately, with the exception of the breast cancer chapter, Ehrenreich does not specifically cover disability and/or chronic illness issues as they relate to the positive thinking movement. However, her book as a whole may have been designed to be rather “general” since the positive thinking movement impacts many people (for better or worse), not just those with disabilities. This generality is both a strength and a weakness, and I think Ehrenreich’s writing saves her points from being too non-specific.

I will leave you with a quote that stuck with me, from the book’s second chapter:

But in the world of positive thinking other people are not there to be nurtured or to provide unwelcome reality checks. They are only to nourish, praise and affirm. Harsh as this dictum sounds, many ordinary people adopt it as their creed, displaying wall plaques or bumper stickers showing the word “Whining” with a cancel sign through it. There seems to be a massive empathy deficit, which people respond to by withdrawing their own. No one has the time or patience for anyone else’s problems…When the gurus advise dropping “negative” people, they are also issuing a warning: smile and be agreeable, go with the flow–or prepare to be ostracized. (56-57)