11corvus11's reviews
904 reviews

 When I see people ask each other what their guilty pleasures are, I immediately know what comes to mind as my own, even though my experience with it is often far from pleasurable. Crime media. I am an anarchist that loves crime dramas, even as I watch them complaining to myself about the overt and insidious copaganda. I am also attracted to documentaries including those that include true crime and violence against women. To say I "love" them would be incorrect. I often have a terrible experience watching/listening to/reading about them. I believe that, as a person who tends to run towards things as a coping mechanism, it's a mix of trauma as well as my unadmirable attraction toward human spectacle as a former student of psychology. I know that this is not an uncommon thing, but I often sit there as I binge watch horrible docuseries going, "why am I doing this to myself?" When I saw the blurb for Nerea Barjola's book, The Sexist Microphysics of Power- particularly the line, "A groundbreaking feminist text that frames our obsession with true crime as a form of sexual terror," I knew I had to read it.

I am no stranger to feminist and anti-authoritarian critiques of true crime and as a result, this book at times did not bring many new things to my consciousness. As an academic text, though, it must properly set up the entire scene in order for the argument to make sense. This makes it more accessible to a person new to many of these ideas, but it still falls into the realm of academia, and thus will be read predominantly by people in a field where many things therein are agreed upon. It's very academic but not offensively so- there is a point to it and all of the jargon. It is also very specialized around an event that I had never heard of. The author does not tell us exactly what happened until around 60 pages in, so in the beginning I did feel a little lost in understanding what some of her arguments were pertaining to. That said, to create a critique like this is to walk a very fine line. How does one write about this spectacle without doing further harm? How does one create this narrative without using information that was so gratuitously used for entertainment purposes by the media being critiqued? I do not envy Barjola in this task.

As you may have already guessed, this is a rough read. I took frequent breaks. The abuse and murders of Miriam García Iborra, Antonia Gómez Rodríguez and Desirée Hernández Folch occurred in 1992 and were subject of abhorrent media spectacle which included exploitation of survivors, displaying of gratuitous imagery, sharing of unnecessary horrifying detail, amplifying of misogynistic critique and punditry, and the crafting of a narrative that furthered the trauma of the event far outside the initial victims and placed blame in all of the wrong places. Barjola's decision to only name the girls in the beginning and end is one I understand but disagree with. She discusses in the epilogue the inability of media to share the girls' stories without being flawed, but I found the lack of naming to actually contribute to their objectification in ways the author wanted to fight. Outside of this though, Barjola painstakingly details the ways the media took a horrific event and turned it into an even larger cultural trauma.

Barjola details and critiques the myriad of ways that the media exploited and reframed the narrative to place blame on the girls and on deviation from heteronormative society (in terms of the murderer.) Much of this was obvious to me, but a couple of her assessments really stuck out and gave me that aha! feeling. One was her collection of interviews with local or adjacent girls and women and their discussions of how the events and coverage affected them. We know that these events of course create fear and the media coverage of that affects how that manifests. But, these interviews, more than any analysis in the book, really showed how abhorrent and irresponsible coverage of violence can literally traumatize and create victims far outside the inner circle. I don't have the answer as to what perfect coverage looks like, but I know what it doesn't look like. This book details that and the interviews wrap it up.

Another point Barjola made that really grabbed me was in her discussion of conspiracy theories surrounding the coverage. 1992 was nothing like the internet age we have today, but the media coverage and discussion of these events still birthed plenty of conspiracy. The idea of snuff was one topic that came up, and Barjola state what in hindsight should have been obvious to me. The media is the snuff film. The way true crime media in general, but especially in this case displayed the suffering of these girls while finding ways to blame and humiliate them (and in turn all girls and women) is far more affecting and terrifying than the idea of an under the table VHS of violence. We are watching snuff when we watch this footage. This part of her argument meant a lot to me and I will be using it when asking myself in the future what kinds of media I want to consume and how.

In the epilogue added to this edition, Barjola discusses the Netflix docuseries on the case which I did not see myself. She discussed the very interesting interplay of what might be called neoliberal feminism true crime or something of the sort, where a woman creating a show like this sees it as a feminist act despite being similarly exploitative. Barjola did not take part despite being invited- if one can call it that given that they weren't actually going to feature her- as it became clear that the series was another exercise in exploitation. She discusses the importance of counter-narratives to combat the flood of violence-against-women and women/girls-as-victims media coming at us from all angles. However, while there was a short section of the book discussing some women reclaiming things like hitchhiking, going out at night, and so on, I was also left wondering how this book itself fit into the spectacle. Barjola considers it a counter-narrative, but my experience of reading it did not quite match that. I did not leave it with images of happy women and girls in Spain going out together at night or of feminist resistance. I left it with a horrible story, an anger at so many (especially men) involved, and a question of how academia plays into true crime. Perhaps that says more about me than the book, though. I do not know.

It feels as if this book is both necessary as an exposure of the horrible ways in which media can create and amplify trauma as well as another chapter of true crime media. I do not know what the answer is to how to do this "right" as I do not think there is one. Barjola seems to believe the same thing in her discussion of using the girls' names. There is no way to perfectly write about misogynistic atrocity. But, there sure as hell are ways not to. I think this book is an important exercise in exposing those mistakes and also for the reader to think hard about the media they consume. I will be asking myself more going forward what things will do to me if I choose to venture into another episode of unpleasurable guilty "pleasure" that is crime media

This was also posted to my blog and goodreads. 

This is my first ever dnf collection from AW. I found many of the essays problematic for multiple reasons. I mentioned the issue with the animal essay already. There is a shallow identity politics woven throughout so many of these where people just repeat the same few labels over and over and over without engaging much more with them than that- as if the labels themselves are revolutionary and not what it means to exist within and outside them. There's one essay from someone- whose work I'm increasingly liking less and less- who is diagnosing her mom with her own self diagnosis and calling a straight woman a femme. I'm just not getting much out of it too balance out how annoyed I feel. I'm not sure if this makes me more conservative or less.

I love encountering books that span genres and cultures, especially in the nonfiction realm. Birding While Indian by Thomas C Gannon is one of those books. Labeled as a "Mixed Blood Memoir," I expected less birding than there was in it. I was pleasantly surprised at how much of the book functioned as sort of a birding travelogue divided by species with philosophical and political commentary mixed in. He mentions the impossibility of discussing birds without being political- something I wish far more birders understood. I am frequently frustrated by the boring or even insultingly one-dimensional ways many writers discuss other species.

Gannon was kind enough to join us at VINE book club where I learned that the publisher really wanted him to lean in more to the memoir side of things when editing down a much longer initial draft. Based on my own experience and that of other reviewers, this seemed an odd choice on their part since it seems most of us wanted the birding/philosophical/political stuff and more of it! That said, the memoir outside of birding adventures was very interesting and engaging. The life Gannon has led is immensely interesting and often harrowing. This memoir shows how birding and nature can truly save us from the struggles of life that may otherwise destroy us. I can't express how much I relate to the idea that birding- and in relation, the existence and importance of the avian world and their sharing space with us- as being a life and sanity saving venture.

At the book club, Gannon mentioned his surprise that he received little critique on the structure of the book since to him it sometimes felt like a first draft. I had already spoken a lot, so I didn't get to mention in group that I would have liked a bit more structure. I would not say it reads like a first draft, it feels more organized than that. But, the book does jump from one category into another often by paragraph. This made things hard to follow or left me thinking, "Wait! Finish your thought on that," or, "I wanted to hear more about that." I would have liked it to be divided by chapter rather than hopping so quickly between paragraphs which, for instance, could go from experiences of childhood familial and boarding school abuse to a birding walk.

I also have criticism, as I do with 99% of birding and nature books, of Gannon referring to other birds as "it," even when they are dimorphic and very easy to refer to as s/he/they. He has valid criticisms of humans pushing systems onto other animals, which I generally agree with. But, I believe calling birds "it" is still pushing objectivity onto them rather than acknowledging them as living beings.

Gannon overall though navigates the complexity of his own identities and beliefs as well as that of his family and others around him deftly. There are no surefire, set in stone analyses in this book. He dwells in the contradictions and asks more questions than are answered, which to me, shows great self awareness and honesty often lacking in memoirs.

Something I thought of a lot was how he relates being a "lister" birder like myself to his other life experiences and beliefs. It's something I think about constantly in my own life. The book offers excellent analysis of colonialism and animality among other things. The discussions had about this in the book club were enriching as well. How do we as birders justify our exercise of a hobby which was in part highly designed or influenced by colonizers and slavers? Can we be more in touch with indigenous interpretations of birds without abandoning birding? At what point are we, also, as animals in this world, simply living in and experiencing these environments and when are we taxing resources or causing more harm than good?

A final side note: I was quite surprised to see so much Pittsburgh area action in the book! The book begins referencing a local birder, Frank Izaguirre's excellent labeling of the lifelook and fantastic cover designer- Melissa Dias-Mandoly who I had to Google- is Pittsburgh based as well.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of reading about Gannon's life and his travels birding across many locations. This book would hit the spot for both birders and people interested in memoirs and thoughts about indigeniety, identity, and the greater than human world. His analyses were engaging and refreshing even when the structure was a bit tough to follow. I hope that he pursues more writing and I look forward to reading more from him in the future.

This was also posted to my blog and goodreads.

Review to come

Mostly note to self. Was going to audiobook this, but can already tell that I will have to read it in print if I do at all. Grabbed it because I saw it compared to the revelation space series, but I am not sure that's apt.

 This was very focused on the sorts of feminist efforts one might call "above ground" or "mainstream" in that they were very focused on laws as solutions and made up of many stories from accidental feminists. It taught me a ton about many of the things women in South Korea face though, some similar to what I have seen and experienced in the USA, and some unique all their own. Some of it was so sickening and infuriating I felt the misandry of my youth bubble to the surface. I really would have liked more underground and lgbtq based movement history. Given how divergent the above ground stuff is, I am sure there is amazing organizing creativity and successes that I am missing out on through ignorance. This book is worth reading for sure, though. 

Audiobooked this. It was a nice little pop-psychology book accessible to people without any background in it. The author emphasizes kindness and also discussed some treatments often seen as extreme (TMS, ECT, etc,) but in my opinion are often not any more extreme than a lifetime on life altering psych meds. Case study books always feel a little iffy to me because while they claim to change enough about the stories so that people are not recognizable, I always imagine myself reading a book like this and finding my own story in it and how I would feel. But, I also think individual cases provide more understanding for most people than aggregated statistics.

 

Izzy Wasserstein's debut novella, These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart is what I would call a great start. It's a book I wanted more from, but there is something here worth expanding upon.

The cover and title really caught my eye, both are great. The description sealed the deal- cyberpunk with an anarchist commune. The thing is that I believe this book had to be novel length to build the technothriller world the author wanted to create. Wasserstein's previous work is with short fiction, so it makes sense that she'd stick to a method she's familiar with. But, more time seemed to be spent on the political attributes which felt more real to me.

Whenever I see a debut novel with a trans author and trans characters, I admit that I really want it to be good in a more personal way than other texts. I wanna give other trans folks praise, but I also don't write fake reviews. Luckily this book was at least giving me something to work with even if it wasn't perfect.

As other reviews have stated, Wasserstein makes the same error that many new writers do in not implementing the "show don't tell" aspect of good fiction writing. This is not the worst example I've seen, but I did frequently feel a rollercoaster of being immersed in the story then pulled back out by the telling aspect. I think, for instance, we could have understood the workings of the commune and corporations by what they were doing and how it felt to experience it rather than being told what they are and what they do and why like a pamphlet some of the time.

There are lots of common cyberpunk noir themes that were executed ok enough to be enjoyable. But, they could have been expanded upon and meshed better with the world. I liked the juxtaposition of the commune life against the world of corporate rule though, it felt genuine.

I liked the way being trans was used as a plot point in ways I won't expand too much upon to avoid spoilers. She might have gone a little too heavy on pre transition references (I heard more about the pre-t main character more than the present.) There is an interesting nature/nurture thing going on that also allows for choice rather than biological determinism (as should be our right) which I like. I like the idea of being faced with what others wanted us to be and learning to love all versions.

I really did not like the sexual relationship that developed. If the book were not so mired in radical politics even in the ways character flaws were portrayed, it could have fit into high tech low life cyberpunk. Instead, the book portrayed something that was an inappropriate power dynamic at best as gee golly good and I felt a bit sick reading it.

I found the afterword, written from the actual authors pov, to be somewhat off putting for this reason. It takes the tell over show thing to an even higher level by further analyzing her own story in language that is pretty academic when read right after the book. It then goes on to explain why said sexual relationship had to happen. I think the book would have been much better if a caring, platonic only relationship replaced it. Our culture always teaches us valid relationships have to be sexual.

I really do think this book has a good foundation though. The closing paragraphs before the afterword were very affecting. I really felt the last few melancholic sentences on a very intimate level. I wish it had ended there. I think this would be a great outline for a comic book or video game that has other media to help with world building. I think with some more time and practice that this author could put out a novel that really captures the world she has devised in her imagination.

In the end, this book is short and imperfect, but interesting enough to give a chance especially given its length. I would definitely read the authors next book if it is written with things she learned from writing this one in mind and more time is spent with world building and show over tell.

This was also posted to my goodreads and blog.

Constructing Worlds Otherwise: Societies in Movement and Anticolonial Paths in Latin America, written by Raúl Zibechi and translated by George Ygarza Quispe is a welcome window into the worlds of many radical movements and autonomous communities of resistance in Peru, Mexico, Brazil, Colombia, and Bolivia, as well as some non-latin America locations. Zibechi places much of his focus on movements that center indigenous resistance, womens liberation, Black liberation, and other such struggles. While he does also include the words and experiences of bigger name revolutionaries whose groups may have been more patriarchal in nature, he makes sure to discuss and include why the centering of women, Black, and/or indigenous people is not only ethically critical, but is strategically so as well.

Let me first say that the translation by Quispe is quite good. I have not read the original as my Spanish is quite limited by what I have learned alone from duolingo and online classes, but I have read many translated texts from all over the world. One can often tell when a translation is dry, inaccurate, or simply a word for word reproduction that doesn't quite make sense to the new audience. Translation is an art form in both words and culture and I believe the passion of Zibechi was conveyed very well in this book. The book grips you from the start.

I also like to inform the reader of my very unofficial assessment of the text's difficulty in terms of academia. On a 1 to 5 scale where 1 is "8th grade reading level" and 5 is "inexcusable big word crotch measuring contest," I would nestle this book somewhere around a fair 2.5. There are some words or referenced movements that a complete beginner may be unfamiliar with, but it is navigable with attention and effort.

I really enjoyed learning so much non-eurocentric history. As a USAmerican, even one who would like to know more about the world, we still tend to get buried by our country's false idea that we are the center of it and that there are a few other homogeneous continents. The variety of movements from different countries and cultures of Latin America as well as Rojava and Kurdish resistance are critical in understanding and thinking about how to build new worlds without capitalism and the state. I enjoyed learning a lot more about the Zapatistas, which I always knew I should know more about as well. It was also interesting to read more indepth about how critical women have been in these movements despite the universal assumption of maleness often hiding their efforts.

Zibechi is the kind of theorist that seeks out real life structures and analyzes them in order to ask new questions, rather than relying on idealist hypotheticals. While I am regularly accused of being an idealist, I also see how many of us can be naive when it comes to implementation of sustainable, long term, anti-authoritarian and autonomous communities. He discusses ways of resisting neoliberalism while avoiding stepping into the shoes of the oppressor (such as is the case with authoritarian communisms.) What stuck out to me in these ethnographies was how words and structures I often associate with authoritarians took on different meaning. There is discussion of the holding of territories and keeping them independent from paramilitary, authoritarian, and abusive structures. There is discussion of several different kinds of organized guards of communities that protect them without turning into cops. While I would like to read a larger book about the specifics of how these structures keep from turning authoritarian, we do get an idea of many of the ways that they both protect autonomous communities and resolve conflicts in ways that are needed. There is acknowledgement that even if we were to dismantle all oppression, people will still be human- flawed and conflicted at times - in need of guidance and occasionally ostracism or defense.

The way Zibechi discusses nonhuman animals could have been better. There are sections where other animals are discussed solely as items of trade as if they are the same as inanimate objects. In another section, he mentions the importance of relationships with the nonhuman world, but I did not see this described much in practice. I do also think he falls a little bit into the infallible indigenous people trope, even though he is able to fairly critique the ways in which other movements may have issues with patriarchy for instance. He does acknowledge that indigenous people are highly variable, but seems to default to them having it "correct" so to speak. Being that things such as extinction of hunted species, various versions of strict gender roles, and other issues have followed humans everywhere they have migrated since leaving Africa, I would have liked more in depth analysis of those things in his discussion of indigenous communities. That said, this is a 200 page book and in that space, he can only cover so much.

Constructing Worlds Otherwise is an great look into the way new things can be created from the ashes of the old or simply outside of them. It is passionately written, well researched, and translated with great skill. I learned a lot and definitely recommend it to anyone seeking ways of being outside of oppressive systems of control and exploitation.

This was also posted to my goodreads and blog.

Even though this introduced even more complex beings, I found it better executed than the second (which I had a little trouble with.) All of the philosophical musings about sentience and consciousness were peak space scifi that I love. I adored the corvids debating their own sentience with each other and how mimickry was discussed. I'm a birder and there's a ton of evidence that what we reduce to "mere" mimicry by some species is more complex language/communication. So the idea of skilled mimids having this debate regularly along themselves was a cool idea.

There's also still plenty of action for those who aren't into that philosophical dialogue sorta scifi. Such a creative series. Really enjoyed it.