Wednesday, August 28, 2024

Sci-Fi Fantasy Novel with a Caribbean Culture/Folklore Influence

 Blackheart Man by Nalo Hopkinson

Nalo Hopkinson at the Hugo Awards by Sanna Pudas, CC BY 4.0 

Blackheart Man cover by Saga Press



Big thanks to Saga Press and Netgalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Nalo Hopkinson’s new book Blackheart Man. I initially requested this book for a few reasons. The first was reading Hopkinson’s short story “The Most Strongest Obeah woman of the World” in Jordan Peele’s Black horror anthology Out There Screaming. The story stood out for being strange and somewhat like cosmic horror, but also rooted in Jamaican and Caribbean folklore and traditions, while also challenging some of the patriarchal ways and ideas. I really enjoyed the bizarre and creative writing from Hopkinson and grew excited to learn that this book was also titled after the Blackheart Man myth of Jamaica. Reading Hurston’s Tell My Mule about Caribbean myths and folktales, I was really interested in this story that was frequently told to children to regulate their behavior—kind of like a boogeyman. Hopkinson’s book takes this mythological character and reinvents him for a fantastical world of magic—the island of Chynchin. In particular, the story follows Veycosi, a student of history and folklore who must record stories to earn his title as a griot. Hopkinson’s imagining of the world of Chynchin is descriptive and creative, yet also rooted in traditions and folklore of the Caribbean. She incorporates obeah practices, as well as important creatures like hummingbirds and caimans. While the society in Chynchin also bears resemblance to Caribbean cultures, there are also unique touches like the fact that it is a predominantly matriarchal society where women often take two husbands, who share not only the wife, but also the responsibility of raising their children. While the story focuses on Veycosi’s struggles to master magic and folktales, we also learn about some of the problems in Chynchin, especially as more and more children (Pickens) go missing. Eventually some return, but Veycosi seems to be the only one who can command and control them. Furthermore, Chynchin is under attack, where an ancient (or at least older) threat is seeking to be unearthed, possibly returning the island to enslavement. Hopkinson uses the history and culture of Caribbean nations in a unique way, building on what is there to craft her own world and traditions of magic and power. Furthermore, the mystery of the Pickens disappearance and trance-like state becomes a compelling story about Veycosi’s own motivations and challenges to survive and make a name for himself in Chynchin. I really enjoyed the fact that there’s so much of Caribbean culture in this book, but I also found this to be a challenge to reading the story early on. I felt a little lost in the world of Chynchin in the first quarter of the book, adjusting not only to the differences in the culture, but also in the language the characters speak. I eventually grew accustomed to it, in much the same way I also adapted to Marlon James’s A Brief History of Seven Killings and Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. However, my initial reading was a little slow. I also felt like Hopkinson’s in-cluing of the world of Chynchin left me a little confused early on as well. I think I prefer more world building in these kinds of fantasy works, where I am able to learn more about the history and culture of the place. However, as I read on, Chynchin also became more familiar and relatable. I think the strongest part of the book are the various characters—Veycosi has a lot of unlikeable characteristics, yet, I also found his suffering and challenges to be somewhat harsh. He was entertaining and humorous at times, and there were other funny moments, as well as some shocking and scary moments as well. Other characters served different roles, but were as compelling and interesting. Their language and actions made the story more entertaining and enjoyable. I look forward to reading other books and stories by Hopkinson, and I hope that she revisits Chynchin with some stories that feature other characters.


Thursday, August 22, 2024

Preserving Endangered Languages

 Language City: The Fight to Preserve Endangered Mother Tongues in New York 

by Ross Perlin

Language City cover by Ross Perlin

"Will cities just be last-minute outposts for endangered languages, or can they become sustainable sites for linguistic diversity?”

“We won’t all learn to speak each other’s languages, but a few words can go a long way, and at a minimum we need to grow familiar and comfortable with hearing them all the time”

 

Major thanks to Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Columbia linguist Ross Perlin’s passionate and detailed study of the linguistic diversity of New York City titled LanguageCity: The Fight to Preserve Endangered Mother Tongues in New York. Perlin applies his expertise in linguistics and documents his work with the Endangered Language Alliance (ELA) to share the incredibly diversity of NYC, as well as to call attention to the need to preserve many of the endangered languages that are a part of smaller communities in the 5 boroughs and surrounding areas. This was a great book in many different ways. Perlin begins by discussing his own background as a multilingual speaker, discussing his experiences learning Yiddish from his family and studying Chinese in Beijing. One of the speakers he profiles later, Boris, is a Yiddish speaker and writer, and Perlin uses his own experience to challenge the ideas that Yiddish is a form of broken English or a dialect, presenting grammatical rules and a body of literature to define its linguistic existence, however, precarious. However, it was in China where he learned about the Trung language, spoken in a rural area at least a day’s journey from Beijing, detailing how Trung is related to several different languages in the surrounding area. As Perlin notes, Trung has no teachers, dictionaries, or other learning materials, so the only way to learn the language was to live among the people. It is here where he learned the field methods of building relationships, documenting, and creating his own materials for preserving and potentially teaching the language to others by borrowing methods from anthropology. This also sets up much of his ethnographic reporting of his work with the 5 speakers who worked with the ELA . The book also provides a great description of NYC, especially focused on Queens, from the linguistic lens to demonstrate its incredible diversity. I loved thinking about NYC from this perspective and learning more about the history of different immigrant groups. Perlin also provides some background on many different languages and how languages act almost as organisms which mutate based on their location and social standing, among other factors (including technology). This was fascinating and helps us understand how these endangered languages both languish and persevere through the efforts of the speakers from the ELA. Perlin details the work of 5 individuals, all multilingual speakers of these languages. It was fascinating to learn about their languages and their stories, immigrating to America, and then looking to preserve their native language. It’s hard to say which story is the best since all of the speakers have amazing stories. For example, Rasmina, a speaker of Seke, a Himalayan language from Nepal, documents her work to share Seke, and how Perlin traveled to her village to record other Seke speakers. Husniya, a speaker of Wakhi, was originally from a village between Tajikstan, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and China, and amazingly, she moved to America, studied and worked as a teacher, and eventually became a realtor. Yet, she still found time to work with the ELA to document and preserve Wakhi. Like Rasmina and Husniya, the other speakers (Boris -Yiddish, Ibrahima -N’ko, Irwin- Nahuatl, and Karen-Lunaape (or Lenape) experienced various forms of migration and/or land loss. Some experienced tragedy and rapid political change or war in their homelands, forcing migration. Others experienced a kind of stigmatization from the status of their language and culture, which is something that Perlin also explores—the nature of privileging certain languages, especially written languages, over others. Yet, all of these individuals are incredibly persistent and energetic about preserving and sharing their language and culture. I loved learning about the different aspects of their culture. Reading about Irwin’s culinary connections to Nahuatl not only took me back to swimming in a cenote and visiting Chichen Itza, but also made me crave authentic Mexican food. I also did not realize the extent of indigenous languages in Mexico (as well as some of the other regions explored in the book) and how these languages have contributed to the Spanish spoken in Mexico. Just looking at certain regions, especially in the Yucatan, I could see how influential indigenous languages like Nahuatl are. As someone who has taught English to speakers of other languages, I can appreciate the significance of maintaining a native language; I frequently tried to use L1 as a reference point for learning. However, Perlin makes a strong case for how important it is to maintain a native language, and how cities like NY can help in the efforts. The patterns of migrations and neighborhoods that frequently maintain a regional or cultural group can serve as an nexus. It’s also important to our culture and history to work to maintain these, and Perlin rightly points how recent social and health challenges like COVID have limited migration, which in turn can put these languages at risk. This was an incredible book that documents the work of incredible people, as well as highlighting the important connections between language, culture and identity. I loved learning about the ELA, as well as the different languages and cultures featured throughout the book. Despite seeming like an academic/ethnographic study of the fight to preserve various languages, Perlin has written a highly engaging and personal story, often making complex academic/linguistic topics understandable and relatable.   

 


Wednesday, August 21, 2024

Witches and Witch Hunts Through the Ages

 Witches and Witch Hunts Through the Ages

by Phil Carradice


Witches Giving Babies to the Devil CC BY 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Macbeth Seeing Three Witches, CC BY 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons


Thank you to Pen and Sword and NetGalley for allowing me to read a preview copy of Phil Carradice’s informative history of witches in his book Witchesand Witch Hunts Through the Ages. Prior to this, I finished reading TheDevil’s Best Trick by Randall Sullivan, another book that looks at both ancient and modern forms of evil, and how societies and those with power often seek to justify violence through labeling differences. Carradice’s book focuses more specifically on the role of witches over time, and how Christianity largely changed our views of witches and witchcraft, specifically in the Medieval Times. Carradice’s book begins with an overall explanation of our modern ideas about witches and witchcraft and how it has shifted. I really appreciated how much he used literature, especially Shakespeare, to identify the kinds of different roles that witches and cunning folk played in literature, and how it often has affected our views of what witches look like and how they behave. He then takes a historical look across different cultures and time periods, examining the role that witches played in societies, starting with the ancient world of Babylon and how witches (and priests) were often facilitators of the rituals that were such a significant part of ancient people’s lives, eventually moving into the world of Ancient Greeks and Romans. This is not the popular image of witches, but it helped to provide a different context and show how they were powerful people with a direct connection to the gods in the ancient world. This also might be why Christianity shifted the perspective to reconsider witches as evil, as those who are often using the black arts to gain power over others. Interestingly, Carradice goes on to show how Morgan LeFey, from Arthurian legends (and Merlin) could be considered witches due to their knowledge and powers in the stories. Although Arthurian legends are not real, Carradice makes effective use of the literature (as he did with Shakespeare) to serve as evidence of perceptions and attitudes towards witches, especially when there are contrasting views about Morgan’s actions and motives as both a healer and a harmer of Arthur. Carradice then gets more historical by analyzing the real witch hunts that started in the late Medieval Times, examining the Inquisition. He explores how witch hunts throughout Europe terrorized those who often were outsiders and did not have the support or power to speak up or defend themselves. Furthermore, I found it interesting to learn how many of the accusations stemmed from rivalries or desires for land ownership. Additionally, Carradice examines the life of the Witchfinder General, a self-appointed title for Matthew Hopkins. I didn’t know about the many trick that he and John Stearne employed to “identify” witches, nor that they were frequently paid by towns they went to. Carradice explains how witch finding was a lucrative business at the time, and we can see how those with power often benefitted from the loss of others. I also liked learning that these witch hunts were not relegated to Spain or England, but happened all over Europe. He uses both more famous examples, like the Loudun possession in 17th century as well as more obscure cases. It was also amazing to learn that royalty were also not exempt from these accusations by examining and detailing the lives of some wealthy landowning individuals (often women) who were accused of being witches. Although primarily focused on England, Carradice examines the case of Salem, MA in Colonial America, and provides some factual rebuttals that challenge the idea of witchcraft, specifically examining the difficult and conformist lives of the Puritans, especially those who experienced violent encounters with the Native Americans. Interestingly, Carradice ends the book with exploring more of the secular “witch hunts” in politics, examining the McCarthy Hearings and some modern uses of the terms, as well as the movement to reclaim witchcraft as a spiritual community connected with nature and knowledge. I really enjoyed this book and the detailed research and history that Carradice supplies to understand the various perspectives and experiences of people from different time periods. I also appreciated his use of both history and literature to examine the attitudes towards witches and those who were different or often did not conform to society’s dominant expectations. I would have liked to learn more about modern witchcraft and how it developed from the 19th into the 20th centuries. The last chapter covered a lot of ground, but also left me wanting to learn more about this shift in perspective and attitudes. Nevertheless, I would recommend this book for anyone interesting in history, religion, and social movements. 


Saturday, August 3, 2024

The Revolutionary Life and Practices of Frantz Fanon

 The Rebel's Clinic: The Revolutionary Lives of Frantz Fanon by Adam Shatz


Frantz Fanon Hospital in 1933 by amekinfo, CC BY 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Frantz Fanon at the Writers Congress in Tunisia 1959  Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons




In college, Frantz Fanon was like a mythological character. So much of the literature and criticism I was reading mentioned him, but I had trouble finding his books. I was in college in the late 90s and there weren’t many book stores around me at the time. I don’t think it was until after college that I was able to get a copy of The Wretched of the Earth. I also felt like the perspectives I read about Fanon were vastly different, and the details of his life were not all completely clear. I was never really sure if he was someone who advocated violence or if he was someone who was full of hatred, but he seemed to be a powerful figure in the decolonization movement of the 1950s and 1960s. Adam Shatz’s biography of Fanon is important in helping to reframe and contextualize Fanon’s significance, not only to these monumental movements that helped to reshape the world in the mid-20th century, but also to reconsider how Fanon continues to be an important figure in more recent movements that question how large and powerful countries continue to take advantage of developing countries and groups like Black Lives Matter, that examine how state power is used to continue to maintain power for the privileged and oppress those disenfranchised. Shatz’s biography examines more of Fanon’s revolutionary life rather than going through his entire experiences. I appreciated that this book spent more time looking at Fanon’s experiences in Algeria and other African countries that sought out independence from colonialism. It was interesting to see how Fanon used his psychiatric training to explore the emotional trauma that colonial subjects experienced. I was really surprised to see how Fanon’s work in clinics with Algerians helped to dismiss some of the inequalities and stereotypes that they experienced in receiving health care. Furthermore, it was amazing to see how experimental and revolutionary some of his treatment views were regarding mental health therapy. Shatz’s book not only examines Fanon’s life, but also explores how Fanon’s ideas and philosophies were shaped and influenced other theorists and movements of the time. With his opening of the clinic, Fanon challenged typical views of health care proposed by theorists like Foucault. Other writers like Sartre and Camus, who were involved with the Algerian freedom movement in some ways, play an important role in both influencing and being influenced by Fanon’s writing and action. I loved learning more about the Algerian independence movement and how this battle to move away from French colonialism was influential to other African countries as well as other colonial holdings like Vietnam. I sometimes fail to realize how much change was happening in the 1950s and 1960s, and reframing these movements as challenges to colonial hegemony helps to better understand the history and significance of the violence and battles that erupted. It was also interesting to see how Fanon’s writing and action influenced other movements and civil rights advocates in America. Shatz mentions how Malcolm X was influenced more by the Algerian independence movement, but also by Fanon’s writing and action. Fanon also seemed to influence the Black Panthers, noting how their focus not only on civil rights, but also on adequate health care for the oppressed was likely based on Fanon’s clinics. I really enjoyed this biography, especially since it was more of a contextualization and helped me understand how Fanon’s actions and revolutionary work in the clinic led to change in Algeria and other parts of Africa. It was interesting to learn more about Fanon’s life and work, and especially to see how he worked in countries like Tunisia and the Democratic Republic of Congo. One of the most fascinating elements of Fanon’s thinking was about the challenges that newly independent countries face. Fanon predicted that independence would bring joy and hope but was also subject to internal fighting and further battles, and this was something that was seen in many African countries that gained their independence. This book helped to recontextualize Fanon and challenge some of the misconceptions and misunderstandings of his life, seeing how his ideas and philosophies about those who experience state oppression are applicable to our lives today, especially

Exploring Kafka's Themes in Modern Short Stories

A Cage Went In Search of a Bird 

by Various Authors



Franz Kafka's Sculpture by Dudva, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Franz Kafka by socolorization, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons









Thank you to Catapult Press, Penguin Publishers, and NetGalley for the opportunity to preview this unique compendium of stories from some of my favorite authors. I was very excited to learn about this anthology, and even more excited to see that Yiyun Li and Tommy Orange are among the contributors. I also was interested to learn more about what these Kafka-inspired tales would be like. It’s been a while since I’ve read Kafka, and I remember being challenged by some of Kafka’s short stories and tales, especially those that were somewhat allegorical. Apparently, this collection was somewhat inspired by Kafka’s notebooks among his other writings. Although this book is also published around the 100 year anniversary of Kafka’s death, it’s amazing to see how relevant some of the themes and ideas from his writing are to today’s society. While I liked some of the stories in this collection, I felt like it was a little uneven. The earlier stories were not as strong as those later in the book. I really enjoyed Elif Batuman’s story. As someone who has lived in different states, it’s interesting to see the kinds of rules and processes that are involved in buying and selling a home, as well as the kind of written and unwritten rules that go into home ownership and joining a community. The narrator of this story faces the kind of absurdity of needing experience of home ownership/property ownership to become a home owner. I think it speaks to that kind of uncertainty of buying a home, but also the kind of challenges that people experience when trying to own a home in today’s economy. Keith Ridgway’s story was also a kind of strange narrative about home and identity, where the narrator interacts with his landlord. However, his landlord seems to define him, mispronouncing his name but eventually questioning his preferred name. There were also interesting views of the landlord’s wife, and her anxieties about war—being worried that there is no war for young men to fight. It kind of added to the absurdity and paradox of modern society. I think that Leone Ross’s story was also one of the strongest in the book. Anyone who has experienced the kind of bureaucracies and red tape of health care can appreciate Kinshasa’s experience. While there were some strange and absurd experiences with the doctors, nurses, and paperwork, the ending of the story was especially terrifying considering the kinds of barriers and inequalities that women and minorities experience with health care. I also really enjoyed Charlie Kaufman’s story that ended the book. I was surprised at how entertaining this one was—it reminded me, at times, of a Murakami story, with the narrator and character exchanging places and almost fusing. I loved how the main character seemed to suddenly arrive at his own book signing, unaware of what exactly was in his book. It’s definitely reminiscent of Kaufman’s film work like Being John Malkovich and Adaptation, blurring the lines between fiction and real life. Both Helen Oyeyemi and Yiyun Li have stories that experiment with form. Oyeyemi’s story traces the relationship between 2-3 people through instant messaging and email, bringing in some lovely poetry towards the end of the story that one of the characters questions. It also kind of presents this absurd idea of how we use technology to communicate, but also raises questions about how we qualify relationships. Yiyun Li’s story was creative, imagining a discussion among different punctuation marks, attempting to organize and promote their use and continued existence in language. I was amazed at how she imbued the different marks with character and individuality that represented their purpose by only using dialogue. The story is written almost like a play. Overall, there were some interesting stories, and I could see using some of these stories in a class. However, not all of the stories stand out. If anything, it was really interesting to see how relevant and applicable the themes and ideas from Kafka’s writing remain over 100 years after his death.

Thursday, August 1, 2024

Exploring Cults in Society

 Cult Following: The Extreme Sects That Capture Our Imaginations - and Take Over Our Lives 

by J. W. Ocker

Author J.W. Ocker 

Cult Following book cover

An adherent of Aum Shinrikyo

Many thanks to Netgalley, Penguin Random House, and Quirk Books for allowing me to preview J.W. Ocker’s latest book exploring subcultures and the people who dedicate their lives to these strange and sometimes terrifying groups. Ocker’s Cult Following: The Extreme Sects That Capture Our Imaginations -and Take Over Our Lives is a brief, but wide overview of some of the most infamous cults (Branch Davidians, The People’s Temple, Aum Shinrikyo), as well as others that may not be as well known (Ho No Hana Sanpogyo, The Seekers, Breatharianism). Having recently read Ocker’s The United States of Cryptids, a book that humorously explores cryptids and other strange tales in each state, I was excited to read Ocker’s exploration of cults, a topic that is fascinating to me. Ocker not only provides a history of the cults, exploring how they formed and often providing some biographical information about the cult leaders to try to gain more insight into their motivations and desires for leading and sometimes exploiting others, but also shares historical and contextual information that allows us to better understand the social conditions that may also influence people’s susceptibility to joining cults. Ocker’s background and contextualizing are often done in a humorous way, like his book on Cryptids, although with some of the cults involving abuse, exploitation, and murder, he seems to know when levity is needed, and when to provide a more serious tone. Nevertheless, Ocker’s book is not academic or technical, but he does provide information from psychological concepts and researchers to further inform readers. I was glad to see that Ocker cited Robert Jay Lifton, one of the most prominent researchers in cults and group think, to give some key criteria for cults and cult leaders, helping to differentiate them from religions as well as popular movements, something that Amanda Montell also explored in her excellent book Cultish. I really appreciated the humor and research that Ocker provided with these cults, especially those that were not as well known. Furthermore, Ocker was able to provide more insight and information for me about more well-known cults and the consequences of their often devasting consequences. While it may seem like there are a lot of books, documentaries, podcasts, and series on cults, Ocker’s book also provides a great case for the need to constantly investigate and interrogate these kinds of movements and groups that arise, frequently when social or economic conditions deteriorate, and people are left searching for answers and ideas. As Ocker explores the differences between cults before and after the internet (and those like Heaven’s Gate that were early adopters), I was left wondering whether technology makes us more or less likely to gravitate towards more group think and embracing the kinds of beliefs and ideals that are like cults. While most of the cults had unfortunate endings, it was interesting to read about the Planetary Activation Organization, a UFO cult that mostly functioned online, yet had no real negative outcomes for its members. This cult was the exception though, and reading about the financial and sexual exploitation, as well as the murder and suicides in many of these cults can be somewhat dark and depressing. Ultimately, the book can serve as a kind of warning, since Ocker continuously stresses how it’s not necessarily personality types that are more susceptible to cults, but rather our emotional states and the kinds of experiences we are having. It seemed like cult leaders frequently sought out those who were experiencing problems, whether they were emotional, personal, or financial, and preyed on those weaknesses. They also seemed to exploit our desire for understanding and knowledge, or attempted to frighten followers into the idea of a nearing apocalypse. However, the most common criteria that these cults shared was the general human desire for fellowship or connection, and I can see how recent events like the pandemic and social distancing might increase our desire for connection. Just like The United States of Cryptids, I really enjoyed Ocker’s overview of cults and learned a lot from his research and insights. As I mentioned, I find this topic fascinating, and this was an easy, yet insightful book that examined different elements of cults, cult leaders, and the kind of historical and psychological contexts that help to usher in cults into society. The one thing I would have liked to see more of with this book is a better organizational strategy for the cults. It was hard to see how the presentations of the cults were organized. At first, I thought the book would focus on UFO cults, but then it moved into some other cults, like doomsday cults or self-improvement cults. I think that finding some kind of organizational strategy to present the cults and then comment on some common underlying connections would have strengthened the book.  Nevertheless, this was a great read, and something I recommend for others who are interested in the study of human behavior and cults.