- Ursula K. Le Guin on “Calling Utopia a Utopia“:
To define science fiction as a purely commercial category of fiction, inherently trashy, having nothing to do with literature, is a tall order. It involves both denying that any work of science fiction can have literary merit, and maintaining that any book of literary merit that uses the tropes of science fiction (such as Brave New World, or 1984, or The Handmaid’s Tale, or most of the works of J.G. Ballard) is not science fiction. This definition-by-negation leads to remarkable mental gymnastics. For instance, one must insist that certain works of dubious literary merit that use familiar science-fictional devices such as alternate history, or wellworn science-fiction plots such as Men-Crossing-the-Continent-After-the Holocaust, and are in every way definable as science fiction, are not science fiction — because their authors are known to be literary authors, and literary authors are incapable by definition of committing science fiction.
- Theodora Goss gets at a problem I’ve seen with at least a couple of submissions to Kaleidotrope in her quick review of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan of the Apes, calling it
…both gripping and dull at the same time. I wanted to know what was going to happen, but at the same time I didn’t care all that much; the narrative structure kept me going, but the narration didn’t particularly engage me.
- Gwenda Bond shares an interesting feature she wrote for Publisher’s Weekly on trends in the romance genre:
Let’s face it–romance is probably the most ghettoized, dismissed genre around and yet it’s full of smart writers and editors doing extremely interesting things, AND without romance to buoy sales the rest of publishing would probably sink like a stone. Romance readers will visit other sections of the bookstore without a blink, read tons of books a month, and yet face constant disrespect.
I read the article on the train last week, and it’s fascinating because romance is a widely popular and hugely profitable section of the publishing world, and I don’t think I’ve ever read a single book in it. I think we ignore and marginalize romance novels at our peril, yet honestly, I still don’t want to read any of these books. Is that wrong?
- I have to agree with Irene Gallo. This week’s New Yorker cover is distinctly unimpressive, even more so on the physical magazine than online. It’s certainly not a ringing endorsement for creating more professional artwork on the iPhone.
- And, speaking of The New Yorker, here’s an interesting tale from Dan Baum, who used to work there. It’s a story he told initially via Twitter, hence the sometimes choppy sentences, but it’s an interesting (albeit one-sided) insight into the magazine. I’m most fascinated by the work-for-hire nature of the employment: writers like Baum are exclusive to The New Yorker but receive no retirement or health benefits, just the prestige of working there. [via]
Personally, I’m a subscriber, but all too often I find myself not reading much of an issue. I often wish it was a monthly magazine.