Songmaster (Orson Scott Card, reread)
Apr. 15th, 2013 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cahn3+/5. Um. Yeah. My parents brought me a bunch of books from my bookshelf at their house last year, and this was one of them. It’s my favorite of Card’s early work, for what are probably obvious reasons. (Songs! Singing! A boarding school where they teach singing!)
This book made me really sad, but not (just) because of the elegiac nature of the book itself; it reminded me that Card used to be able to write, and write really well. It’s clearly work where he’s still struggling to find his feet as a novelist — this was first a novella that got expanded to novel form, and the seams are pretty clear. For example, there’s a whole huge plot thread that is introduced for shock value (it was the twist ending of the novella) and that then dangles helplessly in the wind, never actually going anywhere or (as far as I can tell) being referred to again. But much of the writing is really excellent, and it made me sad for the writer he used to be but isn’t anymore, a writer who could do subtlety and subtext and characters who weren’t just authorial voices and characters whom you loved even when they did terrible things. Oh Card, I miss you.
Now for the elephant in the room.
This is Card’s only book where the protagonist is queer (it’s not entirely clear whether he’s gay or bisexual, probably the latter), and also the only one where we see a mutually loving and respectful same-sex relationship on-screen. Interestingly, this was one of three authors I read as a kid (the others being L’Engle’s House Like a Lotus — andollipop, I haven’t forgotten I owe you a post on L’Engle, and I am working on that — and Mercedes Lackey’s Arrows trilogy) that taught me that queer sexualities were perfectly normal and homophobia is wrong, which let me tell you, was not a message I was getting from real life (hello, small city in the South, conservative Korean parents, and church!)
Because of this book in particular, I’ve always given Card a lot of leeway when it comes to people ragging on him because of his stance on gay marriage. (The other reason I give him a lot of leeway is that, well, it’s really hard to explain to people who aren’t inside it what it’s like to be inside of Mormonism. I’m not really inside it in the way that Card is, either; it’s easy for me to be in favor of gay marriage, or whatever, because of that.) Because Card clearly has a lot of empathy and sympathy for Ansset, the protagonist.
However.
I think I’ve seen people who were disturbed that the gay guy (Ansset’s lover Josef) gets tortured and later commits suicide. This on the surface I’m actually fine with, because if you’ve read any Card at all, you can see that the characters he loves are the ones who get the most tortured angst (and in some cases physical torture). One character has his body literally fall apart and crumble away. Another character grows monstrously until he pretty much can’t move anymore. There’s even a short story where the protagonist — who is portrayed as misguided but fundamentally well-meaning — gets all his body parts cut off. Yeah, Card is all about torturing his protagonists. I’m cool with that.
So here’s the thing, though. This is the only Card book, as I’ve said, with a mutually loving same-sex relationship. What happens to them? One of them is rendered permanently sterile and can’t ever have sex again. The other has his genitals cut off. Now, there are reasons for this in terms of culture (the book-culture is severely homophobic) and plot (it had to be over-the-top for the next scenes to happen, and the sterility/sex thing had a plot reason as well), but… the thing is, this was back in the days when Card actually did subtext, when he knew how to do subtext. And I wouldn’t have seen this five years ago, but on this reading, and having read other things Card has to say on the subject, I find it really hard to believe that the subtextual imagery of homosexual sex being sterile and cutting oneself off from the human race isn’t intentional.
(I find Card’s take on this, which I’ve seen elsewhere, to be both objectionable and inconsistent, even within Mormonism itself. I have Mormon friends who are actually, physically sterile. Have they cut themselves off from the human race? What about those Mormons who never find a partner? Are they cut off? Well, then, can you shut up now? I don’t particularly agree with the kids-need-a-mom-and-dad schtick that I normally get at church, but at least it is marginally more consistent within the religion itself — because in the divided-spheres culture/theology of Mormonism it actually does kind of make sense that it’s better to have both a female and male parent -- than Card’s illogic.)
This subtext is contradicted at the end, of course, where Ansset does, indeed, give of himself to the entire galaxy in a way that doesn’t involve having biological children. (Which is another of Card’s Big Themes, the power of art to contribute to society. See also “Unaccompanied Sonata” and possibly parts of Folk of the Fringe.) So now I’m not really sure what to think. Was Card aware that he contradicted his own subtext within the book? (He had to be, right? I mean, MAJOR THEMES here.) Did he therefore not intend one of them? Was he trying to make a point that things can be complicated and contradictory? It’s certainly true that he himself is a contradiction in terms — a man who has written a gay protagonist, who (I was surprised to find) has at least one very close queer friend (see also Society’s Child, Janet Ian’s autobiography), and who speaks out quite a lot against gay marriage.
tl;dr : I like this book very much, and Also Music Yay, and Big Severe Issues, and Confusing Issues, and I don’t even know what to think about it.
This book made me really sad, but not (just) because of the elegiac nature of the book itself; it reminded me that Card used to be able to write, and write really well. It’s clearly work where he’s still struggling to find his feet as a novelist — this was first a novella that got expanded to novel form, and the seams are pretty clear. For example, there’s a whole huge plot thread that is introduced for shock value (it was the twist ending of the novella) and that then dangles helplessly in the wind, never actually going anywhere or (as far as I can tell) being referred to again. But much of the writing is really excellent, and it made me sad for the writer he used to be but isn’t anymore, a writer who could do subtlety and subtext and characters who weren’t just authorial voices and characters whom you loved even when they did terrible things. Oh Card, I miss you.
Now for the elephant in the room.
This is Card’s only book where the protagonist is queer (it’s not entirely clear whether he’s gay or bisexual, probably the latter), and also the only one where we see a mutually loving and respectful same-sex relationship on-screen. Interestingly, this was one of three authors I read as a kid (the others being L’Engle’s House Like a Lotus — and
ollipop, I haven’t forgotten I owe you a post on L’Engle, and I am working on that — and Mercedes Lackey’s Arrows trilogy) that taught me that queer sexualities were perfectly normal and homophobia is wrong, which let me tell you, was not a message I was getting from real life (hello, small city in the South, conservative Korean parents, and church!)Because of this book in particular, I’ve always given Card a lot of leeway when it comes to people ragging on him because of his stance on gay marriage. (The other reason I give him a lot of leeway is that, well, it’s really hard to explain to people who aren’t inside it what it’s like to be inside of Mormonism. I’m not really inside it in the way that Card is, either; it’s easy for me to be in favor of gay marriage, or whatever, because of that.) Because Card clearly has a lot of empathy and sympathy for Ansset, the protagonist.
However.
I think I’ve seen people who were disturbed that the gay guy (Ansset’s lover Josef) gets tortured and later commits suicide. This on the surface I’m actually fine with, because if you’ve read any Card at all, you can see that the characters he loves are the ones who get the most tortured angst (and in some cases physical torture). One character has his body literally fall apart and crumble away. Another character grows monstrously until he pretty much can’t move anymore. There’s even a short story where the protagonist — who is portrayed as misguided but fundamentally well-meaning — gets all his body parts cut off. Yeah, Card is all about torturing his protagonists. I’m cool with that.
So here’s the thing, though. This is the only Card book, as I’ve said, with a mutually loving same-sex relationship. What happens to them? One of them is rendered permanently sterile and can’t ever have sex again. The other has his genitals cut off. Now, there are reasons for this in terms of culture (the book-culture is severely homophobic) and plot (it had to be over-the-top for the next scenes to happen, and the sterility/sex thing had a plot reason as well), but… the thing is, this was back in the days when Card actually did subtext, when he knew how to do subtext. And I wouldn’t have seen this five years ago, but on this reading, and having read other things Card has to say on the subject, I find it really hard to believe that the subtextual imagery of homosexual sex being sterile and cutting oneself off from the human race isn’t intentional.
(I find Card’s take on this, which I’ve seen elsewhere, to be both objectionable and inconsistent, even within Mormonism itself. I have Mormon friends who are actually, physically sterile. Have they cut themselves off from the human race? What about those Mormons who never find a partner? Are they cut off? Well, then, can you shut up now? I don’t particularly agree with the kids-need-a-mom-and-dad schtick that I normally get at church, but at least it is marginally more consistent within the religion itself — because in the divided-spheres culture/theology of Mormonism it actually does kind of make sense that it’s better to have both a female and male parent -- than Card’s illogic.)
This subtext is contradicted at the end, of course, where Ansset does, indeed, give of himself to the entire galaxy in a way that doesn’t involve having biological children. (Which is another of Card’s Big Themes, the power of art to contribute to society. See also “Unaccompanied Sonata” and possibly parts of Folk of the Fringe.) So now I’m not really sure what to think. Was Card aware that he contradicted his own subtext within the book? (He had to be, right? I mean, MAJOR THEMES here.) Did he therefore not intend one of them? Was he trying to make a point that things can be complicated and contradictory? It’s certainly true that he himself is a contradiction in terms — a man who has written a gay protagonist, who (I was surprised to find) has at least one very close queer friend (see also Society’s Child, Janet Ian’s autobiography), and who speaks out quite a lot against gay marriage.
tl;dr : I like this book very much, and Also Music Yay, and Big Severe Issues, and Confusing Issues, and I don’t even know what to think about it.
no subject
Date: 2013-04-17 04:25 am (UTC)This is a long-winded way to say I didn't read your spoiler paragraph. :)
But how much do I want to read House Like a Lotus now? Possibly only you know how much.
no subject
Date: 2013-04-17 05:07 am (UTC)I don't knooooow what you'd think about Songmaster. I think it has a great deal to do with a) how sensitive you are to subtext, and b) what you feel about torture. Because gosh, does Card like his physical and emotional torture, not just in this book, in practically all of them. If you're not terribly sensitive to subtext, it probably wouldn't ping your buttons too badly -- it never pinged mine until this reread, and even so I'm not entirely sure I am not maligning him by my interpretation of the subtext, given another subtext with contradicts it. There, how was that for waffling? That's an extremely vague version of what was in the spoilery section.
But anyway, he's one of my favorite authors, or used to be. His writing just grabs me in and never lets go.
Oh, Card on gay marriage. The short version of this is that I think he is sympathetic to queer sexualities (see next paragraph) and left to his own devices he would probably be fine with it. However, he happens to have this extremely strong spiritual tie to a church (hi, my church!) that has decided to fight it in a highly visible way. (This is the part i can't really explain to you, even though I understand it myself, the nature of this strong spiritual tie.) This church also has a history of persecution (and Card himself is kind of stubborn), which means that whenever anyone argues with him about it he only becomes more convinced he's right.
Oh, here's a part which was under cut but which I should take out of cut: "It’s certainly true that [Card] himself is a contradiction in terms — a man who has written a gay protagonist, who (I was surprised to find) has at least one very close queer friend (see also Society’s Child, Janet Ian’s autobiography), and who speaks out quite a lot against gay marriage."
I don't know if that was at all clarifying, or just muddying, or simply wearisome...
So can you elaborate on "problematic sci-fi tropes?"
no subject
Date: 2013-04-18 09:15 pm (UTC)Maybe after rarewomen. :)
As for subtext, I think my subtext-ometer is dialed up way too high due to professional concerns and some generalized anxiety. The right meds and a job change would probably let me enjoy the heck out of Card. As it is, I'll take a pass for the moment.
Geez, where do you find the time to read? (says the writer who is guzzling blogs full of fanfic on a daily basis)
no subject
Date: 2013-04-24 09:18 pm (UTC)Oh, you do realize that these posts are of things I read two months ago, right? I am two months behind on life! (Though the real answer is: this kind of thing is iddy-fic and so I read it concurrently with doing real-life stuff like folding the laundry. When I should be thinking about writing, naturally :) )
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 03:04 pm (UTC)Reactionary fantasy always centers around the beneficiaries of progressive social movements in order to subvert, mock or demonize them.
Just like how Jeannie and Samantha from 60s TV are punished for expressing their supernatural talents, (not suppressing them, hiding them away from the world like a good modest wife should!! hint hint nudge nudge) the main characters in Songmaster are punished though 'poetic justice' for acting on their homosexual natures.
If you read his writings about homosexuality, Card often cites having homosexual urges as an adolescent, but acts as if it's normal for boys to have sexual urges for 'anything that moves'.
Orson Scott Card is the prototypical self-hating queer, writing in the poetic justice queer characters get for expressing their 'shameful homosexual crimes against nature', in the same way he believes his god punishes queer people for their homosexual encounters.
Don't believe me, here's a section he wrote from The Hypocrites of Homosexuality...
"And if it happens that they never repent, then in the day of their grief they cannot blame us for helping them deceive and destroy themselves. That is how we keep ourselves unspotted by the blood of this generation, even as we labor to help our brothers and sisters free themselves from the tyranny of sin. "
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 05:17 pm (UTC)I've never seen either of those TV shows (sorry, I'm very bad with TV), but eh, let me tell you, if I Dream of Jeannie were the first or second TV show I'd ever seen in my entire life that a) had a female as the main character, and b) treated her wishes and her experience of being female as sympathetic, I'd give it a huuuuuuuge pass on subtext of punishment and authority and so on. I wouldn't call IDoJ feminist, perhaps, but neither do I call this one super-queer-progressive-tolerant. I'm simply saying that for me, it was one of my first experiences ever with a sympathetic queer protagonist, and Card deserves credit for one of my first realizations that hey, being gay can be, like, a normal thing. If he hadn't done it, who knows who would have? (Except Lackey and L'Engle, thanks guys!) Just because you don't like the way he went about it (which I totally understand) doesn't mean that it wasn't a good thing. Think also Star Trek and race -- ST was terrible with race by today's standard, but I'm sure there were people for whom it was eye-opening.
Except that I think I should actually give Card more credit than I gave him in the post, because the way in which he "punishes" Ansset with sterilization actually becomes an extremely moving valediction, as he has an effect on the entire galaxy in a way far more essential and far-reaching than if he'd simply had babies (like Kyra, the heterosexual-married-with-kids-standin). So... yeah, I am actually coming around to thinking this is more progressive than I thought it was.
As for punishment, if you're willing to also go after Card for punishing people for a) making hard moral choices (Kingsmeat, all limbs lopped off), b) getting married heterosexually (Ender saga, dies by body literally falling apart when his wife leaves him), c) having musical talent (Unaccompanied Sonata, is blinded and hands broken and maybe more stuff I forget)... then, okay, fine, he also punishes gay people. But yes, the specific way in which he punishes them is a little side-eyeing (though not as much as I thought on first read, see above paragraph on Ansset), and I cover that in my post.
Ha, that's actually kind of funny, because I didn't know he had homosexual urges as an adolescent, but both my sister and I strongly suspected as much because of the way he writes about it. (Tangentially, I can say from experience that the fact I am probably not monosexual, and in general my sexual attraction tends to be triggered by things other than physical attributes, made me at one time much less understanding of people who were strongly physically attracted to other people -- I used to think, why can't you choose which physical attributes, gender or otherwise, you're attracted to? Because I can! It took me a very long time to realize that Other People Are Not Like Me, and quite frankly I think Card is past that stage in his life where he can figure out things like that.)
Ehhhhh, I've read "The Hypocrites of Homosexuality," and I find it hard to get too riled up about it. But I'm LDS (agnostic, so therefore not subject to the same kinds of pressures) myself, and it's really hard to explain to other people the nature of LDS faith, and how it can lead people to say things like that.