Timewaster's Guide Archive

When I went to visit my brother and his family this past weekend, I thought it might be fun for them to go to Brandon Sanderson's book signing since he happened to be in town that day. I thought is might be more fun if they had a clue who he was and what he'd written, so I took along the Alcatraz book to read to Aidan. I figured I'd get a few chapters read, and if he liked it, we'd go to the signing and get him his own copy to finish. Well, we were so engrossed in the reading that we forgot to leave in time to get to the signing. I did ask Aidan to draw a picture for Brandon though.

Here it is. This is the scene where Bastille and Quentin are fighting the Alivened Paper Monster. You can see the monster, Bastille's broken sword coming out of its chest, Quentin with his gym bag full of guns, and Bastille with her dangerous handbag. I'm not sure why they're wearing helmets. I think that Aidan just thinks helmets are cool. link

http://theboard.byu.edu/index.php?area=viewall&id=36051

If you don't know what the Board is, and why it's so cool, look here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/100_Hour_Board

Edit: Sorry for those of you that saw the non working link.  I think I've fixed it now.  Also, it seems that this is not the first time he's made the Board. He's also mentioned here http://theboard.byu.edu/index.php?area=viewall&id=31453


-Karen

Hi,

I know I don't write in this forum a lot, but I do read it a lot, and Peter often adds my comments to his posts...

So anyway, I wrote the following letter to Orson Scott Card this week.�  I sent it through his website, where I read the review, so I don't know if he'll even see and/or read it.�  All the same, it's about something that has been bothering me for a few weeks, and I wanted to get some input from other people on the subject, so here it is.�  You can read the original review here: http://www.hatrack.com/osc/reviews/everything/2005-01-09.shtml and he repeats his endorsement here: http://www.hatrack.com/osc/reviews/everything/2007-01-14.shtml�  The actual book in question was an OK minor-character-in-a-fairytale-becomes-heroine-of-fantasy-novel outing, but it was very dark, I didn't like the main character, couldn't believe in the motivations of several supporting characters, and hated the ending.

Dear Orson Scott Card:

After reading your review of Mira Mirror, I checked it out from the library and read it.�  I pretty much agree with your review right up until the ending.

When Mira realizes that the witch is her "sister" who's still around after all this time, she naturally compares their relationship to the relationship of the two girls whose lives she's messing with.�  She sees that they can overcome the damage done by lies and betrayal because they truly love and trust one another.�  That's fine -- even if I find it hard to believe the series of events that led to this relationship.

The problem comes when Mira discovers, in her own memories, that all her “sister” needed from her was that same unconditional love.�  Then, when she offers it at the climax, it magically fixes everything and redeems everybody and they all die happily ever after.�  I agree that love can be powerfully transformative, and that just loving somebody regardless of their faults is, in general, a good way to be happy in life.� 

But Mira's sister was evil, manipulative, abusive murderer.�  All through her childhood, Mira loved and trusted her against all rational reason to do so.�  The fact that there was a noticeable barrier between them was not Mira's fault for not loving enough, but her sister's fault for constant betrayal.� 

I have read several of your essays that condemn "evil" books and movies for subtly perpetuating lies that lead to violence.�  I remember hearing you speak years ago (at Life The Universe & Everything at BYU) about how the redemption at the end of Return of the Jedi ignored the fact that Darth Vader was a genocidal warlord cut from the same cloth as Hitler’s general Herman Goering, and that just suddenly saying he was sorry wasn't good enough.

This book is evil in exactly the same way.�  It perpetuates the lie that if an abused person could just love their abuser enough, they'd change and become the good person that only the abused seems to be able to see.�  This is the lie that keeps women going back to abusive boyfriends and husbands even after they've had broken bones or worse.�  This perpetuates the lie that the abusers tell their victims--that the abuse is somehow their fault.

It may be possible that you didn't see this because you've never been in a position to see that sort of relationship in action.�  If you've never been abused, then that's a wonderful thing.�  I hope you'll thank your lucky stars, and then stop recommending books that glorify the "noble self sacrifice" and "unconditional love" of victims who are so blinded and trapped by their abusers that they keep going back for more until it kills them (other notable works in this category that are often glorified, though not necessarily by you: the musical Oliver! and Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree).

The thing is, that I have been there.�  I was emotionally and physically abused by my college roommate.�  I say this, not to get your pity, but to let you know that I know from experience how incredibly hard it is to get out of this sort of relationship.�  Jenny was the very best friend I had ever had in my whole life, and I still mourn losing her friendship more than I regret getting divorced from my first husband--and this is the person who regularly had me in tears for days, sleeping under my desk at work, and afraid to come home until I could work up the guts to apologize for saying the sort of thing that would make her hurt me.�  We don't need more books out there--especially ones marketed to preteen girls--that tell people like me that we could have made everything all better if we'd just love the person more.

I'm sorry if I've annoyed you by writing this letter -- I know you were expressing your opinion about a book that to you seemed to show the "healing power of love and kindness."�  I've tried for weeks to just get over it and let it go.�  But I respect you too much not to let you know when something you say (innocently in all probability) could cause more harm than good, and I hope you'll take this letter in that spirit.

We had a talk in church today that really bothered me.

In it, there was a story of a woman who was a farmer's wife.  When she and her young husband had taken over his father's farm it already had a huge mortgage.  They had big plans, but by the time the story took place, they were both overworked and falling behind.  She didn't have tome to do laundry, and keep house, and take care of the chickens, and get the tomatoes picked and taken to market, and take care of the children, and get all the fruit in from the orchard before it rotted.  

So she did what she could, but the house was a mess, and the mortgage payment was overdue, and the children were unwashed, and she was too tired to even care anymore.

Then one day while she's struggling to haul in a load of tomatoes to take to market, a car comes down the road, and a beautifully dressed lady comes to the door and wants to buy some apples, so the farm wife takes her out to the orchard, and starts to haul out the big ladder to get at the good ones, and the lady is all, "No don't do that, it's too heavy for you, that's man's  work."  and the farmwife laughs in her face and says, "Look lady, you're all fine in your pretty grey wool suit, but if I don't do a man's work around here, we just won't make it."

Then the lady says, "When we were first married, and my husband was first starting out his company, he wanted me to keep my job as a secretary while he went out and did sales, but I knew that if we did that, we'd both be tired at the end of the day and we'd only eat takeout, and we'd both be miserable, so I stayed at home and made sure we had a feast on the table every night, even if it wasn't out of much, and we had some hard times, but we got by."

So then the lady leaves, but accidentally drops her perfumed handkerchief on the way out, and when the farmwife finds it, she decides to ignore the tomatoes, and let them rot in the barn for all she cares, and she puts on her one pretty dress, and cleans the kitchen, and makes a good meal, and when her husband comes in from the fields that night, and she's looking all pretty and serves him that nice meal he looks more grateful than he did when she hauled in all those potatoes last fall, and she knows now what her husband really wants from her: a clean house, a good meal, and a smiling face.

Is it just me, or is this story of the devil?

It totally sets up unrealistic expectations for women, and implies that if they can't get the laundry done that they've failed in their true calling in life, and maybe lost the love and respect of their husbands as well.  It was further compounded by the fact that the next song we sang was "There is Beauty All Around" which implies that if you can't see the roses blooming beneath your feet, you must not have enough love in your family.

Maybe it's just because I'm having trouble even jugging work and keeping house, let alone the fact that everybody that hears I'm newly married makes me feel guilty about putting off having kids until Peter's job offers him benefits, and I'm just jealous of my cousins and sisters in law who can stay home and have beautiful little blonde babies, but I was seriously in tears by the end of sacrament meeting.

Any thoughts?

-Karen