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silveradeptPrompt number 2 for this month's Sunshine Challenge is Eos, Goddess of the Dawn.
It's kind of challenging to think about joyous things that bring pleasure, given that it is so much easier to recognize what kind of trouble we're all in and have been for some time, as well as recognizing that very few individuals have both power and will to make changes for the good of humans by themselves. The feeling of helplessness can be compounded by the understanding that no one person can fight all the fights on all the fronts that besiege them effectively. At a certain point, there has to be trust that others will be there for that fight so you can concentrate on yours. And that there will be reinforcements to help when you need to take care of yourself and step away from the front floor a moment. (Being able to step away and trust that the line will hold is self-care, because someone cannot be at the skirmish at all hours.)
And in a context like this, I want to talk a little about one of the overlooked aspects of Seanan McGuire's Newsflesh series. It's published under the Mira Grant nom de plume because that way Seanan McGuire writes urban fantasies and Mira Grant writes meticulously-researched science fiction of science gone horribly right. There's an aspect of the worldbuilding in Feed, the first of the After The End Times trilogy that gets mentioned but never really explored, because Georgia Mason is a Newsie and Shaun Mason is an Irwin and [SPOILER FLUFFY BUNNIES FRIGIDAIRE MOVE ALONG CITIZEN COMCAST!], so there's never really a thorough explanation or a solid connection made, and I don't think the narrative talks a whole lot about them after the first book, but the world after the zeds appear divides itself into people who report facts, people who craft opinions, people who do stupid stunts as part of field research and viewership, people who share personal stories and recipes, and people who craft fiction and poetry. While Georgia doesn't understand the Aunties and the Fictionals all that well, she does understand they're essential to keeping the society running and giving it some bright spots or escapes from the reality outside.
It might seem self-serving for to include authors, poets, singers and tale-spinners in the world after zed, but it's also a detail that a lot of apocalypses and post-apocalypses don't think about, or only think of in terms of prophecies and myths that turn out to be plot relevant. The human experience is one of conflicting stories, and while history is written by the winners, there are several counter-narratives firmly woven into the fabric of humanity. Through myth, religious teaching, imagination, and/or the Pratchettian lies, both Big and Little, humans dream into being the world they wish to see and vicariously live the experiences of others, humans, humanoids, and non-humans alike. The Aunties and the Fictionals are essential, because they give us joy and happiness and teach us about justice and mercy and the like, and I'm glad that even though they're seen as weird from Georgia's perspective, they're there and interwoven into the fabric of the society.
But how do you find joy, pleasure, and the dawn when the context seems to be an eternal, endless night of malevolence and its far more harmful cousin, indifference? If I am not to be one of the Great Humans remembered for my words, deeds, or the fact that I sold many people copper of questionable quality, and there will be no apparent movement on the things I put my effort to ("It always seems impossible until it is done," says the poster on my wall, and attributes it to Nelson Mandela, a man who would understand intimately how even small effort over time erodes even the strongest-seeming things until they fall.), it seems an absurdity to believe that there is happiness and joy to be found anywhere. (And that is before we take into account any variations of body and brain chemistry that might mean dopamine and other euphoric chemicals are mismanaged or less effective.)
I think fandom is one of those things that people do to make themselves happy. Or, at least, I really hope fandom is something that people do to make themselves happy. I know that sometimes other people being terrible and claiming that People Like You don't belong in fandom makes participating in the wider fandom community more fraught. Or, sometimes a vocal and terrible group of people who look like you poison the well sufficiently that even if you're not them, everyone else is warranted to treat you with suspicion if they don't know you, and even if they do. (I do not really forgive the Brony phenomenon for taking up all the oxygen in the room during the televised run of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, because I suspect there were a lot more people than them who wanted to enjoy the show and possibly use it as a vehicle for explorations of their own. Unfortunately, fans of a particular gender presentation and age probably never got to have those conversations, because the risk of being identified and treated as a Brony was too great. We lost an opportunity for greater dialogue there.) Or sometimes, those people with power decide they want to suppress you and your fandom, and they will find whatever pretext they can to try and make the rest of the world turn against you. And yet, through those things, fandom persists all the same. And while it can be isolating to enjoy a fandom where most of the interactions happen on a different website, or a place you don't really rant to go, the fandom part itself continues to go strong and provide enjoyment. (Barring the creator or the thing itself becoming a milkshake duck, and often, in those cases, fandom turns to spite as enjoyment.)
And yet, still I write and read, code and game, make music and listen to others' music making, and appreciate the skill of those who can make visual arts while I provide object lessons to children that being a grown up does not necessarily translate into any additional skills at visual arts. Joy, pleasure, and many lovers describes the multifannish reasonably well, I think. I tell stories and experience other people's stories and we share community and humanity with each other and there is joy and pleasure in doing this. I chase digital badges that say little about me other than that I have put in the work of training my brain and hands (or feet) to accomplish a specific task on a screen however many times it has been demanded. It's frivolous and it contributes nothing toward any worthy or greater goal and it doesn't bring anything physical into existence, but, y'know, they call them achievements because you get the satisfaction of having achieved a thing. Plus, I think it's a wise course of action to live a life that takes seriously the ideas that not all hobbies have to become side hustles, and that worth is not determined solely by capitalist output and productivity. If it's something that makes you happy and it doesn't hurt sentients to do it, then it's probably a good idea.
If I have to sum it up, I suppose I would do it this way:
These nine words fandom's manifest:
"Cheer what works,
fix what's broke,
discard the rest."
The dawn goddess Eos was almost always described with rosy fingers or rosy forearms as she opened the gates of heaven for the Sun to rise. Eos had a team of divine horses to pull her chariot, providing daylight as they climbed the arc of heaven scattering sparks of fire across the sky (she was also sometimes depicted aloft by the power of her own wings). Eos is known for having had many lovers, which has led to Eos being known by some as a goddess of joy and pleasure in addition to being the goddess of the dawn.
It's kind of challenging to think about joyous things that bring pleasure, given that it is so much easier to recognize what kind of trouble we're all in and have been for some time, as well as recognizing that very few individuals have both power and will to make changes for the good of humans by themselves. The feeling of helplessness can be compounded by the understanding that no one person can fight all the fights on all the fronts that besiege them effectively. At a certain point, there has to be trust that others will be there for that fight so you can concentrate on yours. And that there will be reinforcements to help when you need to take care of yourself and step away from the front floor a moment. (Being able to step away and trust that the line will hold is self-care, because someone cannot be at the skirmish at all hours.)
And in a context like this, I want to talk a little about one of the overlooked aspects of Seanan McGuire's Newsflesh series. It's published under the Mira Grant nom de plume because that way Seanan McGuire writes urban fantasies and Mira Grant writes meticulously-researched science fiction of science gone horribly right. There's an aspect of the worldbuilding in Feed, the first of the After The End Times trilogy that gets mentioned but never really explored, because Georgia Mason is a Newsie and Shaun Mason is an Irwin and [SPOILER FLUFFY BUNNIES FRIGIDAIRE MOVE ALONG CITIZEN COMCAST!], so there's never really a thorough explanation or a solid connection made, and I don't think the narrative talks a whole lot about them after the first book, but the world after the zeds appear divides itself into people who report facts, people who craft opinions, people who do stupid stunts as part of field research and viewership, people who share personal stories and recipes, and people who craft fiction and poetry. While Georgia doesn't understand the Aunties and the Fictionals all that well, she does understand they're essential to keeping the society running and giving it some bright spots or escapes from the reality outside.
It might seem self-serving for to include authors, poets, singers and tale-spinners in the world after zed, but it's also a detail that a lot of apocalypses and post-apocalypses don't think about, or only think of in terms of prophecies and myths that turn out to be plot relevant. The human experience is one of conflicting stories, and while history is written by the winners, there are several counter-narratives firmly woven into the fabric of humanity. Through myth, religious teaching, imagination, and/or the Pratchettian lies, both Big and Little, humans dream into being the world they wish to see and vicariously live the experiences of others, humans, humanoids, and non-humans alike. The Aunties and the Fictionals are essential, because they give us joy and happiness and teach us about justice and mercy and the like, and I'm glad that even though they're seen as weird from Georgia's perspective, they're there and interwoven into the fabric of the society.
But how do you find joy, pleasure, and the dawn when the context seems to be an eternal, endless night of malevolence and its far more harmful cousin, indifference? If I am not to be one of the Great Humans remembered for my words, deeds, or the fact that I sold many people copper of questionable quality, and there will be no apparent movement on the things I put my effort to ("It always seems impossible until it is done," says the poster on my wall, and attributes it to Nelson Mandela, a man who would understand intimately how even small effort over time erodes even the strongest-seeming things until they fall.), it seems an absurdity to believe that there is happiness and joy to be found anywhere. (And that is before we take into account any variations of body and brain chemistry that might mean dopamine and other euphoric chemicals are mismanaged or less effective.)
I think fandom is one of those things that people do to make themselves happy. Or, at least, I really hope fandom is something that people do to make themselves happy. I know that sometimes other people being terrible and claiming that People Like You don't belong in fandom makes participating in the wider fandom community more fraught. Or, sometimes a vocal and terrible group of people who look like you poison the well sufficiently that even if you're not them, everyone else is warranted to treat you with suspicion if they don't know you, and even if they do. (I do not really forgive the Brony phenomenon for taking up all the oxygen in the room during the televised run of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, because I suspect there were a lot more people than them who wanted to enjoy the show and possibly use it as a vehicle for explorations of their own. Unfortunately, fans of a particular gender presentation and age probably never got to have those conversations, because the risk of being identified and treated as a Brony was too great. We lost an opportunity for greater dialogue there.) Or sometimes, those people with power decide they want to suppress you and your fandom, and they will find whatever pretext they can to try and make the rest of the world turn against you. And yet, through those things, fandom persists all the same. And while it can be isolating to enjoy a fandom where most of the interactions happen on a different website, or a place you don't really rant to go, the fandom part itself continues to go strong and provide enjoyment. (Barring the creator or the thing itself becoming a milkshake duck, and often, in those cases, fandom turns to spite as enjoyment.)
And yet, still I write and read, code and game, make music and listen to others' music making, and appreciate the skill of those who can make visual arts while I provide object lessons to children that being a grown up does not necessarily translate into any additional skills at visual arts. Joy, pleasure, and many lovers describes the multifannish reasonably well, I think. I tell stories and experience other people's stories and we share community and humanity with each other and there is joy and pleasure in doing this. I chase digital badges that say little about me other than that I have put in the work of training my brain and hands (or feet) to accomplish a specific task on a screen however many times it has been demanded. It's frivolous and it contributes nothing toward any worthy or greater goal and it doesn't bring anything physical into existence, but, y'know, they call them achievements because you get the satisfaction of having achieved a thing. Plus, I think it's a wise course of action to live a life that takes seriously the ideas that not all hobbies have to become side hustles, and that worth is not determined solely by capitalist output and productivity. If it's something that makes you happy and it doesn't hurt sentients to do it, then it's probably a good idea.
If I have to sum it up, I suppose I would do it this way:
These nine words fandom's manifest:
"Cheer what works,
fix what's broke,
discard the rest."
no subject
Date: 2021-07-06 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-07-06 02:53 am (UTC)For as much as the Geek Social Hierarchy was supposed to be a joke, there are still more than enough people who tend to take it seriously, even if they don't know that's what they're replicating. For the most part, at least to my Ancient of Fandom eyes, it seems like the people who are most invested in policing others' fandoms and their enjoyment thereof are the people who are least secure in their own fandom and likes and have the least experience at having the nuanced conversation with fellow fen about the bits that are squee-worthy and the bits that are complete trash.
Unfortunately, if that's the case, I'm not sure we can do much for them but be patient, wait for them to grow into themselves, and be helpful when they can use it and protective when they need to learn they're in the wrong.
no subject
Date: 2021-07-07 08:43 am (UTC)"Fix what's broke" makes me think of the bug vs feature argument, with different people giving different/contradictory answers to the "what do you think is broken" question.
no subject
Date: 2021-07-07 03:00 pm (UTC)The spoiler is about what ultimately happens as a result of After the End Times having a mole and what role the spy played in the blogosphere categories.
I think, in a healthy fandom ecosystem, the question of what's broke and what the solutions to it are coexist with each other, and occasionally writers of one solution read writers of other solutions and gain perspective and appreciation, even if they're not ultimately sold that this particular thing is broke and needs fixing. When the problems start ascending to -ism levels, the coexistence system isn't as good an idea, but I also think a healthy fandom environment is able to quickly conclude "Even though I don't see it, that doesn't mean it's not there." and goes to do some further research in search of understanding.