Fangasm
Despite having zero free time and scary upcoming exam, I just mainlined Fangasm in two days, which I seem to always do here. There isn't much to do on the rock other than study and play Minesweeper, so whenever I give myself permission to have some new TV show/book/whatever, it ends up a marathon experience.
That was a pretty cool book, and I'm glad it's out there now. I'm not sure if it was exactly what I wanted, but then again, it's hard to define what I wanted. The book attracted me by the promise of reports of the cast and crew's attitude on fans and fanfiction and by the exploration of what it's like to be a fangirl. What I immediately liked about it was that it was written by two fellow fangirls who put their biases and their own story on the pages and didn't try to be objective and all-inclusive. I'm looking at you, Margaret Atwood, with the massively disappointing book about writing that presented a bunch of dry academic viewpoints and no opinion whatsoever. This one was half-way about a personal journey, and I liked that a lot. Biased, personal stories is why I want to read books like this. I know how I feel, and I couldn't care less about hypothetical ruminations of modern academia on the dual nature of a writer.
It also helped that the authors were "my crowd", that is, at least in part wincesters. They did write about the fandom in general and mentioned all kinds of fangirls, but for me, I much preferred to read a narrative by people biased toward RPF and wincest than, say, D/C. Because nope. So much nope, especially not with the latest Destiel crowd being so vocal. And by mentioning the wincester/RPF bias, I don't mean that they were interpreting every move as subtle validation of their ship. I mean that they were interested in Sam and Dean, their dynamic and their on-screen chemistry.
In looking at what it's like to be a fangirl, the book is definitely biased toward older women, with husbands, kids and careers. But like I said before, bias is good. I want to read about what it's like for somebody else. The book talks a lot about how a fandom is a way out of a crisis for some, how it's viewed as an immature, shameful hobby for a grown woman, and how enjoyment of things like hot men, conventions and fanfiction comes with a dose of embarrassment, like you're supposed to be doing something else, like you're only allowed to take some enjoyment for yourself after you've tended to your family. Their experience is mostly not my experience. I did start during a prolonged crisis, but the said crisis was in its sixth year by then, and I was a fangirl of various things long before it even begun. It also makes a difference that I failed to fall in love, get married or have children, that I turned adult by myself and nobody was questioning what I did in my free time. The book did have some great insights into what it's like to be an adult woman with a family and a career and to suddenly develop a deep fannish love for something. The authors mention losing a friend and a partner, and I wonder if that would've happened if their new hobby was gardening.
Another thing I loved about this book was the discussion of desire and shame for women. It's okay for grown men to ogle barely dressed younger women on TV and objectify them, but oh my god, how terrible it is for women to do the same! So I love that the authors just rolled with it without shame. A lot of the discussion of shame also had to do with being a fangirl, among all the stereotypes, as one stands next to a crazy, embarrassing fan at a con. That resonated.
There were viewpoints that I couldn't relate to or that missed the mark for me, like the celebrity worship. I didn't much care for the outpouring of adoration toward the cast and crew, mainly because I like the story and don't much care who makes it or how. But I guess that went along with the spirit of enjoying what you love in the way you love it and having no shame about it. Overall, it was the type of book I wanted to read, written about very biased, personal experience of fandom with some fantastic insight. I probably would've enjoyed it more if more things in it resonated with my own experience, but hey, to read about someone else's experience was the idea. Also, now I want to go to a Wincon. To talk to other fangirls who created fic, vids and art? YES PLEASE.
(As a completely random aside, there was Ten Inch Hero that the book mentioned and that I once caught on TV. Jensen was in it. This has nothing to do with the book, but man, that movie sucked. Cheesy and sappy, with the attitude of feeling very special about itself. Gah! When you're in a dark alley, talking to your scary, douchey ex-boyfriend with a recent history of violence against you, the thing to do is tell him how he needs to embrace his repressed gay love for his best friend. Love yourself, scary douchey ex-boyfriend! Admit that you're hot for a man! That's totally the best idea ever for a dark alley conversation with a violent asshole: tell him to suck dick, lovingly. I might have a strong opinion about that movie.)
And now I need to get back to my seriously neglected RL. Fuuuuuck. Loved the chance to wander off for a few hours, though.
That was a pretty cool book, and I'm glad it's out there now. I'm not sure if it was exactly what I wanted, but then again, it's hard to define what I wanted. The book attracted me by the promise of reports of the cast and crew's attitude on fans and fanfiction and by the exploration of what it's like to be a fangirl. What I immediately liked about it was that it was written by two fellow fangirls who put their biases and their own story on the pages and didn't try to be objective and all-inclusive. I'm looking at you, Margaret Atwood, with the massively disappointing book about writing that presented a bunch of dry academic viewpoints and no opinion whatsoever. This one was half-way about a personal journey, and I liked that a lot. Biased, personal stories is why I want to read books like this. I know how I feel, and I couldn't care less about hypothetical ruminations of modern academia on the dual nature of a writer.
It also helped that the authors were "my crowd", that is, at least in part wincesters. They did write about the fandom in general and mentioned all kinds of fangirls, but for me, I much preferred to read a narrative by people biased toward RPF and wincest than, say, D/C. Because nope. So much nope, especially not with the latest Destiel crowd being so vocal. And by mentioning the wincester/RPF bias, I don't mean that they were interpreting every move as subtle validation of their ship. I mean that they were interested in Sam and Dean, their dynamic and their on-screen chemistry.
In looking at what it's like to be a fangirl, the book is definitely biased toward older women, with husbands, kids and careers. But like I said before, bias is good. I want to read about what it's like for somebody else. The book talks a lot about how a fandom is a way out of a crisis for some, how it's viewed as an immature, shameful hobby for a grown woman, and how enjoyment of things like hot men, conventions and fanfiction comes with a dose of embarrassment, like you're supposed to be doing something else, like you're only allowed to take some enjoyment for yourself after you've tended to your family. Their experience is mostly not my experience. I did start during a prolonged crisis, but the said crisis was in its sixth year by then, and I was a fangirl of various things long before it even begun. It also makes a difference that I failed to fall in love, get married or have children, that I turned adult by myself and nobody was questioning what I did in my free time. The book did have some great insights into what it's like to be an adult woman with a family and a career and to suddenly develop a deep fannish love for something. The authors mention losing a friend and a partner, and I wonder if that would've happened if their new hobby was gardening.
Another thing I loved about this book was the discussion of desire and shame for women. It's okay for grown men to ogle barely dressed younger women on TV and objectify them, but oh my god, how terrible it is for women to do the same! So I love that the authors just rolled with it without shame. A lot of the discussion of shame also had to do with being a fangirl, among all the stereotypes, as one stands next to a crazy, embarrassing fan at a con. That resonated.
There were viewpoints that I couldn't relate to or that missed the mark for me, like the celebrity worship. I didn't much care for the outpouring of adoration toward the cast and crew, mainly because I like the story and don't much care who makes it or how. But I guess that went along with the spirit of enjoying what you love in the way you love it and having no shame about it. Overall, it was the type of book I wanted to read, written about very biased, personal experience of fandom with some fantastic insight. I probably would've enjoyed it more if more things in it resonated with my own experience, but hey, to read about someone else's experience was the idea. Also, now I want to go to a Wincon. To talk to other fangirls who created fic, vids and art? YES PLEASE.
(As a completely random aside, there was Ten Inch Hero that the book mentioned and that I once caught on TV. Jensen was in it. This has nothing to do with the book, but man, that movie sucked. Cheesy and sappy, with the attitude of feeling very special about itself. Gah! When you're in a dark alley, talking to your scary, douchey ex-boyfriend with a recent history of violence against you, the thing to do is tell him how he needs to embrace his repressed gay love for his best friend. Love yourself, scary douchey ex-boyfriend! Admit that you're hot for a man! That's totally the best idea ever for a dark alley conversation with a violent asshole: tell him to suck dick, lovingly. I might have a strong opinion about that movie.)
And now I need to get back to my seriously neglected RL. Fuuuuuck. Loved the chance to wander off for a few hours, though.