At the Blue Met: The Children of Mary Shelley

This past literary season, I attended several events, including the Blue Metropolis festival and Le Congrès Boreal. Posts on each event are forthcoming. Today’s post is about the panel discussion I attended at Blue Met entitled “The Children of Mary Shelley.”

Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein
Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein

Frankenstein, which celebrates its 200th publication anniversary this year, has often been called the first science fiction novel. While Frankenstein’s monster is a recognizable figure in pop culture, it has its origin in the nested epistolary narratives of Shelley’s Gothic bildungsroman. To what extent can today’s science fiction trace its roots back to Frankenstein, given the vital, diversified, and increasingly popular genre it is today?

The moderator, Su J. Sokol, asked the panelists what was so groundbreaking about Frankenstein when it first appeared in print in 1818. Was it the first SF novel?

Amal el-Mohtar, the first panelist, responded that it was certainly “a first,” even if not “the first” SF novel. She referenced Awaj bin Anfaq, North African alien contact story written in the thirteenth century, to suggest that science fiction has much earlier, non-Western origins. However, there is something to be gained, she said, in tracing SF’s origins back to Mary Shelley, since women authors tend to be underrepresented in SF, a genre often defined by how “STEM-y” it is.

Cyrano de Bergerac’s Voyages to the Moon and the Sun could qualify as science fiction avant la lettre, so I would concur with Amal: Frankenstein is by no means “the first” SF novel, even in the West. But it remains a politically meaningful gesture to trace the genre’s origin’s back to Mary Shelley.

Melissa Yuan-Innes, the second panelist, made the interesting point that Frankenstein is not terribly “STEM-y” when you look at it closely. Though there is some (pseudo)science in what Victor does to reanimate the dead, he is highly irresponsible ethically. Furthermore, he works in isolation, while scientists typically work in research teams, sharing the results of their knowledge. Perhaps it is this isolation that makes Victor’s experiments with reanimating the dead seem so wrong.

David Demchuk, the third panelist, dissented. He paraphrased Samuel “Chip” Delaney’s observation that Frankenstein isn’t really science fiction at all–it’s Gothic fiction. The book is less about hard scientific inquiry and more about an ethical question: “How do you imbue something with the spark of life, and if you do that, what is your responsibility?”

David also pointed out that Victor tends to look towards past knowledge, such as alchemy and the works of Paracelsus and Galen. However, science fiction is a genre that typically looks toward the future. Thus, Frankenstein exists simultaneously as a past-focused Gothic novel and future-oriented proto-science fiction novel; it stands at a crossroads between old and new ways of understanding nature.

Listening to the panelists, I remembered just how different the novel is from various Frankenstein films. Amal pointed out that the monster’s interiority is mediated through several levels of epistolary narration, which is usually lost on film. (As an aside, I remember that the Frankenstein episode on the 90s children’s TV show Wishbone showed the framing narrative, which takes place in the Arctic.)

The monster’s self-education is another feature of the novel that doesn’t get enough attention. In Shelley’s novel, the monster learns how to speak clearly and in an erudite fashion by reading Milton’s Paradise Lost. Though he may be ugly, he speaks like a rational soul. Melissa underlined this point, stating that the monster’s physical ugliness should not be taken to correspond with an ugly morality, just as Victor’s handsomeness does not mean he is a moral person.

What really interested me was when Amal pointed out that feminist scholars have interpreted the monster’s self-education as an analogy for the reality of women’s education at the time. Mary Shelley was self-taught and read novels on her own because women were denied the full education men received. Furthermore, at the time it was thought that women should be discouraged from reading, because reading novels “inflamed” women’s minds, much like reading Milton “inflames” the monster’s mind. But really, the reason the monster acts violently is because of educational neglect, suggesting how detrimental the neglect of women’s education can also be.

This argument appealed to me because I’d assumed most femininst interpretations of Frankenstein followed the idea that the monster’s story is an allegory of childbirth-gone-wrong. The monster’s education as an analogy for women’s education seems a more authentic analogy for women’s actual experiences, especially the experiences of a self-educated, literary woman like Mary Shelley.

All this goes to show that Victor Frankenstein’s monster is not really a monster, but a creature who has suffered horrendous neglect. And it is Victor’s neglect of his creation that turns him into the true monster.

Overall, “The Children of Mary Shelley” was a highly productive and fascinating panel. Although the Blue Metropolis festival tends to focus more on literary fiction, I hope to attend more science fiction and fantasy-based panels at the festival in the future.

If you liked this post, you might like

 

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Weird #1 The Other Side (excerpt) by Alfred Kubin (1908)

Underworld as Otherworld: Combined and Uneven Development in Charles de Lint’s Urban Fantasy Fiction

World Fantasy Convention 2015, Part III: Challenging the Canon

 

 

 

Advertisements

Not all Traps are Ancient: “In the Ruins of Shambhala” and Cultural Heritage at Risk

In my flash fiction story, “In the Ruins of Shambhala” (published in audio format with 600 Second Saga), UN employee Amar Chatterjee encounters a booby trap while exploring an ancient Buddhist temple. But the trap Amar encounters is far from your typical Indiana Jones-style booby trap. It’s something much more real and sinister.

Indy might step on paving stones that shoot blow darts through slots in the wall and he might run away from giant rolling boulders, but these traps are unrealistic and not the kind I’m talking about.

While researching “In the Ruins of Shambhala,” I wanted to know more about the all-too-real dangers archaeologists actually face. But archaeology rarely involves greater dangers than you might encounter on a camping trip: snakebite, heatstroke, dehydration, and other environmental and health hazards.

However, there are some cases where archaeologists do run great safety risks. The difference here is that these traps typically use modern technology. I’m talking about landmines and unexploded ordnance (UXO) here.

Many countries with a rich distribution of archaeological deposits also happen to have endured highly destructive–and explosive–wars. Nations like Afghanistan, Cambodia, Iraq, Syria, and Georgia have extensive minefields that occasionally make archaeology a highly risky profession.

The landmine Amar defuses is much more than a new spin on a cliché. It provides a commentary on the issue of cultural heritage at risk–a theme I believe archaeological thrillers could explore more fruitfully.

Mes Aynak in Afghanistan, the site of an ancient Buddhist monastery, is one prominent example of a threatened cultural heritage site. Brent E. Huffman’s documentary Saving Mes Aynak tells the story of the bold Afghan archaeologist Qadir Temori, who leads an excavation of this monastery. The site itself is currently threatened by the development of a Chinese copper mine. To add to his difficulties, Qadir must endure repeated death threats by the Taliban to cease his excavations.

Landmines enter into it because the hill of Mes Aynak contains many of them, buried right alongside the artefacts. At one point in the film, the director interviews a digger who once swung a pickaxe directly onto a landmine, triggering an explosion. He was badly maimed, but other diggers were not so lucky.

What Saving Mes Aynak shows is that the real archaeologists who face danger in their jobs are not guys like Indiana Jones. They’re guys like Qadir.

Archaeologists working in war-torn countries, under the pressure of dictatorships, or in the presence of ongoing civil wars–those are the ones who run the greatest risks in their profession. The explosive legacy of present-day wars alone makes learning about the distant past a dangerous job. No tombs with pressure-triggered blow darts required.

Initiatives have attempted to correct the problem of unexploded ordnance in Afghanistan, notably in the region of Bamiyan. Bamiyan is the site of a medieval fortress and the gigantic niches where the famous Buddhas of Bamiyan once stood, before they were destroyed by the Taliban in 2001. As Lindsay Aldrich, Suzanne Fiederlein, and Jessica Rosati report in The Journal of ERW and Mine Action, action was taken in 2008 and 2009 to demine the region.

This operation, led by the Mine Action Coordination Centre of Afghanistan (MACCA), in coordination with UNESCO and the United Nations Mine Action Service (UNMAS), was an initiative that parallels my own fictional treatment of the demining of the mystical city of Shambhala in the aftermath of skirmishes between Tibetan insurgents and the Chinese army.

The Amar Chatterjees of this world are the kinds of people who work with organizations like MACCA and UNMAS, the ones who, like Qadir, face extreme danger for the sake of cultural heritage preservation. They are the ones who rally under the 1954 UNESCO Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict, which states that “cultural property has suffered grave damage during recent armed conflicts and that, by reason of the developments in the technique of warfare, it is in increasing danger of destruction.”

Amar is courageous, a workaday hero who preserves ancient antiquities at great personal risk, all while operating within the mission statements of international conventions. I hope you will listen to my story and enjoy my attempt to find an alternative to the fedora-swaggering heroes of yesterday.

If you would like to donate to help raise awareness about Mes Aynak, check out their donation page.

Diggers at Mes Aynak, Afghanistan
Diggers at Mes Aynak, Afghanistan

 

If you enjoyed this article, you might like to read:

 

Archaeological Adventure Fiction I: Indiana Jones and the Genre of Enlightenment

Archaeological Adventure Fiction II: Uncharted: Poe’s Fortune

 

Call for Submissions: Scrivener Creative Review

Scrivener Creative Review is calling for submissions. In the past, we have published poetry by Leonard Cohen, Louis Dudek, and P.K. Page. Today, Scrivener is dedicated to uncovering emerging Canadian writers and publishing established talent.

Writers from across the globe are welcome to submit. Scrivener publishes high-quality, literary writing in three genres: poetry, prose, and book reviews. Also, your black and white art/photography submissions are always welcome.

As Book Reviews Editor this academic year, I am in charge of all reviews for recent books. Book reviews should be of novels, short stories collections, poetry, or graphic novels. Scrivener strives to give publicity to deserving books from small Canadian presses.

To submit your poetry, please send no more than five (5) poems to poetry.scrivener@gmail.com. Each individual poem may be no longer than four (4) pages single-spaced in length.

To submit your short fiction, please send no more than four (4) submissions per author to fiction.scrivener@gmail.com. Works must be no longer than 2500 words.

If interested in writing book reviews, please send a short writing sample and a topic of interest for a potential review to reviews.scrivener@gmail.com. Reviews should be no longer than 2500 words.

To submit your art and/or photography, please send no more than five (5) images per artist to artphoto.scrivener@gmail.com. Art and photography submissions must be in black and white. Please submit your work in the highest possible resolution.

That is all! We will be publishing online and in a print edition in Winter/Spring of 2015. Due date for the print edition is March 9 2014. Good luck!

UPDATE:

Here is a list of books interested reviewers can read. Contact me at reviews.scrivener@gmail.com:

*New: Hypocritic Days by David Fiore

*New: The Women of Shawa Island by Anthony Bidulka

*New: Dancing Nude in the Moonlight by Joanne C. Hillhouse

Notes and Dispatches by Rob Mclennan

 Blind Items by Dima del Buccia

Date with a Seesha: A Russell Quant Mystery by Anthony Bidulka

Rabbit Punch! by Greg Santos

Butterfly in Amber by Kenneth Radu

A Traveler’s Tale by Byron Ayanoglu

All I Can Say For Sure by John McAulay

The Scarborough by Michael Lista

 

.

Leonard Cohen

On Monasticism and New Monasticism

A Pilgrim in Narnia

I am posting this from the Gladstone’s library. This is a relatively new library for Wales (the 19th century), and is the Prime Minister’s own library, though he isn’t here at the moment. I am sitting in the theology reading room looking out wrought-iron framed glass to the red sandstone residence across the lawn. A cobweb traces from Raymond Brown’s Introduction to the New Testament to my banker’s light. Except for the shuffle of feet and an occasional whisper it is absolutely silent. My fingers on the keyboard feel harsh.

It is supposed to be quiet. It is a place of study.

As I was finding my seat, this month’s copy of The Tablet caught my eye. The Tablet is a British Catholic journal, and the 13 Sep 2014 issue is all about the “New Monasticism.” It is subtitled, “The Archbishop of Canterbury’s bold experiment for a restless generation.” This…

View original post 284 more words

The Vinciolo Journal’s First Anniversary!

1st birthdayIMAG1039_1Today is a special day in the life of a blogger: the day his baby turns one. Although I once had another blog that I updated infrequently, this has been my first serious attempt to blog. Was this year a success? In celebration of this great anniversary, let my reminisce a retrospective over the marking events of this year. And when I am finished being nostalgic,  let me look to where the blog stands now and to where it might fly in the future.

I began The Vinciolo Journal exactly a year ago today with a post promising content of a literary and historical variety. If I had a target audience, I was not conscious of targeting one, which was probably a fault. For the record, I now state that my ideal reader is, like me, in his twenties (or thirties), a university student or graduate, and an avid reader of fantasy novels, particularly historical fantasy. Basically, I set out to write for someone like myself, who has interests similar to mine.

Many of the promises I made in January never saw the light of day, but other subjects I returned to with frequency. My first few posts were sporadic, seeing as I was working on my Honours thesis at the time. However, I managed to create three posts that remain successful to this day. Probably the most famous ever is Nothing is True; Everything is Permitted: Historical Reality and the Creation of the Myth behind Assassin’s Creed, likely because of its popular appeal and how it pushed aside the veil of fiction spun by the famous video game franchise. My stats display 519 specific hits to that page. A distant second in popularity was my treatment of the Marlowe assassination, at 168 hits.

I thought it would be brilliant to keeping writing these long posts, much longer than the 600 or so words that are normal to bloggers, in the interest of presenting researched information on historical subjects that interested me. I was not going to be one of those self-absorbed critics spitting out polarizing doggerel. Although I enjoyed doing research, however, my posts soon became very long and I began to realize that my audience–many of whom began  to follow after my first few successful posts in April and May–did not have the necessary attention spans.

One of the more memorable moments of 2012, which is still significant to this blog begun in 2014, is when I met Guy Gavriel Kay at Salon du Livre.
One of the more memorable moments of 2012, which is still significant to this 2013 blog, is when I met Guy Gavriel Kay at Salon du Livre.

After publishing my post on my Honours thesis, which is still in my top-ten posts at 66 hits (receiving some of my first serious comments), I began to write book reviews. I focused on historical fantasy novels currently in my library, but did not limit myself to that genre. These reviews covered most of my summer campaign. Highlights of my reading experience include Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco and the Fionavar Tapestry by Guy Gavriel Kay, which I covered in a series of three posts (I, II, III), one for each book. Such was the regularity of these book review posts that I temporarily re-branded myself as a book review blog. I was even asked to review William Harlan’s Antioch.

At the end of the summer, I returned to the triple-feature format for a dip into Scottish history with my posts on the lead up, action, and aftermath of the Battle of Culloden. This battle had featured prominently in two book I reviewed: one from Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series and the second being No Great Mischief by Alistair MacLeod. I enjoyed writing the post series, adopting a trademark pictures-and-text style to ease the lengthier treatment of historical subject matter. Readers would return to these, but they would not be as famous as my posts on Masyaf castle or Christopher Marlowe.

When my final semester began at McGill, I swore to pick up the pace. I could publish one post every two weeks like it was nothing, sometimes including an extra post before the fortnight. As such, I challenged myself to put a Friday article online every week until Christmas. I succeeded by cleverly scheduling a three-parter on Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot to post during the most stressful period of my semester. I managed to post a few poems that were published in student literary journals, which began to draw people back to my site.

Finally, after publishing an assortment of material, from a post on wainscot societies to an essay on Machiavelli, from a poetry reading in which I participated to a silly picture I drew of The “Beet” Generation, I survived until the New Year and published a series of posts loosely related to J.R.R. Tolkien, whose birthday was January 3rd.

A little less memorable was briefly standing near Neil Gaiman at the Rialto Theatre. Not enough time to talk. Too many people.
A little less memorable was briefly standing near Neil Gaiman at the Rialto Theatre. Not enough time to talk. Too many people.

It was a long haul, but we made it! I have nearly 4,000 views so far and 116 followers, which includes WordPress, Facebook, Tumblr (http://www.tumblr.com/blog/thevinciolojournal), and Twitter (@matthewrettino). My following is a modest achievement, but I count my real victory in the devoted hours I spend posting top-quality content. Whatever followers I have will continue to receive more of the same posts: historical overviews, book reviews, essays, and every once in a while a poem. I actually intend to post quite a few more book reviews: Canadian poetry books, literary fiction, and, of course, fantasy novels. This Friday, for example, I will be reviewing a classic: Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

This blog has always been about historical fantasy in one way or another, attempting to find answers to the ways in which historical narratives are shaped by our desires and “fantasies.” History is written by the victors, we often say, but it is also true that history is written by anyone with an interest in it. Even victims include their distortions. I do not always so seriously probe these hard, philosophical ideas, but I do engage with them in an on-and-off basis within my posts. I hope to explore these ideas a little more explicitly in the future.

A definite of highlight of 2013 was reading my poetry at Le Cagibi in November and, earlier that year, reading at the April Veg launch.
A definite of highlight of 2013 was reading my poetry at Le Cagibi in November and, earlier that year, reading at the April Veg launch.

At the bottom line, though, what I really want is to have fun. Fun with a bit of intellectual stimulation thrown in. I hope to publish more poetry, more artwork. I have an entire other talent related to the visual arts in which I am passionate, if unschooled. (See the bottom of the page for one example.)

This is the purpose of my blog, but I have yet to finally explain the title. Why is it called “The Vinciolo Journal”?

To answer this question, I must explain my novel-in-progress. I have already written its roughest draft, though I am rewriting many of the scenes, in preparation for line editing. One day I may self-publish this book as physical copy or an e-book, but I cannot promise a specific time when, or if, this will be possible. The premise is as follows:

An alchemical woodcut.
An alchemical woodcut.

Intelligence, or The Stars Move Still is about Marco Vinciolo, the son of a Venetian alchemist, who has ambitions of becoming his family’s Maestro, a master alchemist. His father, Jacopo, was blinded in an accident, setting the future of the small family–which he runs almost like a mafia–into uncertainty. Then things get worse. A family friend exiles himself from Venice the day that the heretic Giordano Bruno is arrested by the Inquisition (26 May 1592). The Vinciolo family is warned to flee Venice, when the authorities charge Jacopo not only with heresy, but treason, supposing he was involved in a plot to assassinate Philip Hapsburg, the King of Spain. Marco must flee his pursuers, protect his disabled father, and fight for his and his family’s innocence, while uncovering the roots of the conspiracy, which have literally earth-shattering consequences.

No, not figuratively earth-shattering. Literally earth-shattering. How? You’ll have to read my book to find out.

The blog is, of course, based on the name of Marco’s family, specifically a reference to the precious journal of alchemical lore that the Vinciolos have kept in safe storage for a hundred years. Legends tell that Marco’s ancestor Marconni Vinciolo not only created the Philosopher’s Stone, but even wrote down the recipe for it between the Journal’s covers.

Perhaps this means my blog has a Philosopher’s Stone buried somewhere within it. Perhaps it is a reflection of my desire to create a mythic counterpart to my father’s side of the family, which is Italian (from a village near Naples). Whatever the true meaning, just remember that my novel is a historical fantasy, one of the main tags for my blog.

Here’s to a fresh start in the New Year. Who knows what untold wonders might await us now?

.

A pencil drawing that might serve as an illustration to my novel: Marco Vinciolo hides under a horseshoe arch, rapier drawn. But who hunts him?
A pencil drawing that can serve as an illustration to my novel: Marco Vinciolo hides under a horseshoe arch, rapier drawn. But who hunts him?

Photo Credits:

Alchemy: http://members.ozemail.com.au/~clauspat/stonea.htm

Candle: http://www.partysrus.ca/party-tips/first-birthday-party-ideas

Preview of The Vinciolo Journal

Welcome to The Vinciolo Journal. This blog gets its name from the infamous and legendary old book that forms the center of the alchemical knowledge of the Vinciolo family, whose saga forms the basis of some of my (as yet unpublished) novella and my (still in the draft stages) new novel. As you can probably tell if you read parentheses, there is a lot of work for me to do if my writing career is to get off the ground (but isn’t the whole point of parentheses that you don’t have to read it?). While I do the hard work, though, I will be posting about many things, while transitioning my main authorial website from its older Freewebs address.

What you can expect from The Vinciolo Journal:

-Excerpts from my Present Writings, which can Include Poetry, Short Stories, or Novels

-Historical Database Files

-Book Reviews of what I’ve been Reading

-The Odd Insight into my Writer’s Life (though I shall refrain from posting advice–just see writersdigest.com for that.)

-Opinion Pieces on Certain Newsworthy Items

-Artistic Paintings, Drawings, or Photographs. And the occasional link to my Pinterest page.

-Perhaps the occasional Fan Fiction or Experiment

-And… the odd post written archaically, in the mode of “Middyle Ynglisshe,” “feventeenth-century printing” (which uses ‘f’ for ‘s’ sometimes) or “eighteenth-century Capitals,” (Enlightenment people like to emphasize their words). For a superb Middle English blog, see 14th-century author Geoffrey Chaucer’s blog here.

Y shalle attendeth to thys blogge with fuperb focuf and due Diligence, for all of my dear Readers and Fans.

This means posts will be bi-monthly (twice a month). I have tried before to post more frequently, but other preoccupations always get in the way.

That is for now.

MR