This weekend’s reading was a selection of classic science fiction texts, and the first in the convergence section of my current course. They include Borges’ “The Garden of the Forking Paths” (1941), Clarke’s “The Nine Billion Names of God” (1953) and ”The Star” (1955), and Gibson’s “The Gernsback Continuum” (1981). A common theme throughout these four stories is that one person’s dream is another’s nightmare. These stories ask us to consider the stories, ideas, and beliefs that make up our realities and what effect they have on us and those around us. Do we share any common dreams, or does the Dream negate our dreams?

Read more on Big Jelly.

After a couple of years and several recommendations, I finally read Dan Simmon’s Ilium. I’ve been a Homer aficionado for most of my life (thanks, Mrs. Farmer!), and an “expert” ever since I took my first class in graduate school on epic poetry. I’ve written quite a bit on Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey — not to mention other epics — but Simmons’ knowledge of Homerica makes me feel like a novice.

Read more on Big Jelly.

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I had not read Jack McDevitt until I heard he was coming to this year’s Crossroads Conference. I’m embarrassed because I’m supposed to be up on all things science fiction. His novel Seeker won a Nebula award in 2006 for best novel (and most of his other novels have been nominated), and I have come to thoroughly enjoy his writing. I did manage to read two of his novels before meeting him.

I met Jack McDevitt early on Saturday morning. I was hurrying to hear him speak, and I saw him rushing out the door. He was going the wrong way. I said, motioning toward the door, “I think this is where you want to be.” He smiled: “I know. I’m just going to get my wife.” He did, and I began deciding how I was going to photograph the day. Yes, I was not really there as a writer, but as a volunteer photog. He soon returned with his wife Maureen. I snapped away while he gave the audience advice on how to publish. He reminded me of professors I most enjoyed in graduate school: ones who were no-nonsense – who just wanted you to know what you needed to know to be successful.

It wasn’t until the panel at 11:30 — “The Long and Short of It: Crafting Fiction” — where I finally introduced myself. I was scheduled to act as moderator, but this was a role I thought would require little more than my introducing the panelists. I was wrong. Since the panelists did not have prepared statements, they expected questions. Therefore, I put on my best Neal Conan hat, something I’ve done many times before. While the session was well attended, it took a while to get the audience asking questions that were actually germane to the panel’s topic. So, I ran things. No big deal, since I’m an academic conference veteran, but I did hope to take photos.

Afterward, I finally got to talk with McDevitt. I had many questions about his work, but I didn’t want to seem too forward or obnoxious — you know, fan-like. I think he sensed my enthusiasm, but he invited me to lunch anyway!  I graciously accepted, and he, Maureen, and I went downtown to Market City Café. We talked about sf, politics, and life. He asked me questions, and we had a pleasant meal. At one point, he said to me: “Jerry, life is good.” At that moment, I totally agreed. I just wish Autumn could have been there.

Next stop was the Golden Bough for McDevitt’s reading. Eric was waiting, but not many festival-goers were. I was disappointed in the low turnout, but it was a real pleasure to hear McDevitt read. He reminded me a bit of Asimov, though less Brooklyn Jew. He read two AI stories — “The Candidate” and “Henry James, this One’s for You” — both out of his Outbound collection. They are near-future stories about artificial intelligences: the former is George Washington running for president again and the latter is, well, you should read the story. There were only a couple of people in the audience, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the event. How often do you get a Nebula winner reading to you one-on-one? I’m glad I went to the bookstore, too, so I could get a book for McDevitt to sign: Time Travelers Never Die. I hope to start it this week.

After the Golden Bough was the book signing at the conference. I got Time Travelers signed. Since I enjoyed the stories from Outbound, I wanted a copy of that, too. I purchased a book from Lauretta Hannon (blog entry about that coming), so I only had $10 left. I told McDevitt that I was going to find an ATM, and he said “How about just taking the book?”

“No,” I replied, “I couldn’t do that.”

“OK,” he searched for one of his business cards and handed it to me: “you can send me a check.” What a guy.

So, I have two books inscribed by my current favorite sf writer. I attended his last panel, but had to duck out quickly afterward to photograph Steve Almond. Jack McDevitt came into the chapel, and I was able to say good-bye.

What a great experience. Thanks to Jack and Maureen for being so gracious with me — just a sf fan. You know I’m gonna have to read all of his books now, right? That’ll make up for my finding his writing so late.

It took me a month. Perhaps longer. However, I finally finished Neal Stephenson’s Anathem.

It was not my favorite book. I’m not even sure I’d recommend it to anyone who wasn’t already a Stephenson enthusiast. I’d probably say: “Read Snow Crash, or The Diamond Age.” The former is a brilliant, fast-moving, and smart book — perhaps the most important work of cyberpunk next to Gibson’s Neuromancer.

Yet, I’m sad it’s over. I think this sentiment has more to do with long books. There’s something about a 1000-page novel that really brings me into it — in a way that no 200-pager can. It probably has something to do with the detail, but perhaps more with the commitment it takes to read it. Other books that I have felt the same way after finishing are: Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, Tolstoy’s War and Peace, Herbert’s Dune (though it wasn’t particularly long), Brook’s original Shannara Trilogy (particularly Sword and Elfstones), any of Donaldson’s fantasy, like the Thomas Covenant books or the dream mirror ones). Yes, a long series can leave me with the same feeling. Perhaps this feeling has something to do with the popularity of the Harry Potter novels?

Still, I don’t think I’d want to reduce Anathem to the likes of Harry Potter. It is a very strong novel that deals with politics, religion, technology, academics, history, devotion, space travel, and quantum mechanics. I’m glad I spent the holiday with this novel, though it would have been nice to have gotten in another read or two.

J.G. Ballard died today after a long battle with prostate cancer. He is perhaps best known for his autobiographical novel The Empire of the Sun, but I will always remember his work from the seventies and early eighties, beginning with Crash and ending with his collection of short stories War Fever. It was these edgy, controversial, and surreal stories that will always signify Ballard for me. Not only has speculative fiction lost one of its more significant names, but so has world literature.

Read more about Ballard. There’s some particularly good stuff on Ballardian.

It was my privilege to photograph this year’s Macon State College Arts Festival “Borderlines: Reading, Writing, Performing within American Spaces.” All of the speakers were excellent; I particularly enjoyed the stories of Tayari Jones and Carman Agra Deedy, though poets Lillian Allen and Lorna Goodison were also entertaining and poignant. My thanks to festival organizers Sharon Colley and Derrilyn Morrison for asking me to document the event. Check out the gallery.

Photographing this event taught me that I really need a fast 70-200mm lens. Hm.

Many thanks to Giles for helping me with the poster.

Arts Festival, 2009

It’s the birthday of Voltaire, (books by this author) the man who helped spark the Enlightenment in France, born François-Marie Arouet in Paris (1694). He was a well-known playwright and poet. He spent most of his late life in exile, and he wrote most of his work from England. In the last year of his life, 1778, he was allowed to return home to Paris. More than 300 people came to visit him his first day in the city, including Benjamin Franklin.

Voltaire wrote, “God is a comedian, playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”

And, “To succeed in the world it is not enough to be stupid, you must also be well-mannered.”

And, “Let us read and let us dance … two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.”

The featured poem, Fanning’s “A Deer in the Target,” is also worth a read. Also, check out “Snow,” by George Bilgere, from two days before.

Kafka presents Gregor’s metamorphosis in such a way, and he gives textual clues to this rhetorical function based around how women are framed in the narrative.

Read more on HumX.

Beowulf is a Christ-like figure both in this revision and the original epic, sacrificing himself for the good of the people but not before, as Gilgamesh would say, his name was stamped on bricks. Yet, while he did vanquish Grendel in the film, he gave in to temptation as that young hero (you have to see the film). His attempt to atone for his sin as an older king does free his people, but brings down his son, and by implication, his way of life as well. With the death of Beowulf and his son (you have to se the film), the age of heroes comes to a close. A new king has been crowned and the old ones must pass into legend.

I’m reminded of the end of John Boorman’s Excalibur: Arthur kills his son Mordred, but sacrifices himself in the battle. Both Kings (Beowulf and Arthur) are left without heirs, so their reins must come to an end with their respective deaths. Both kings, too, are laid to rest on boats, but while Arthur is destined for Avalon and perhaps a return some day, Beowulf sinks beneath the waves as his ship becomes his pyre. Boorman and Zemeckis both tell the stories of the end of epochs — not the demise of patriarchy, but a change — perhaps with one superstitution being replaced with another.

Zemeckis’ film deals with the guilt of the father. The human women are chattel, as one would expect in an epic, but they are sympathetic and strong, demanding respect from the heroes. (There is a scene where one of Beowulf’s men — who we know is married — tries to have his way with a girl. She says “no” and struggles out of his grasp, delivering a final slap across his face before leaving. Cool.) Grendel’s mother is the most interesting: she is the demon of a heroic age (I can’t help but think of Circe, the sirens, Helen, Eve, Medea, Dido…) that has a magical influence over even powerful men. She desires a son, too, like a king — an heir to her kingdom. She represents disorder to the patirarchs Beowulf and Hrothgar, but she also has a potency that neither can resist.

The end of the film is fascinating. It’s a transition, but one that’s bittersweet and ambiguous. I didn’t think I’d like this film very much; I’m not a fan of the go-motion animation. However, this one is provocative and exciting, both in a viscreal and a thoughtful way.

It makes me want to go read Beowulf again.

For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command or faith a dictum. I am my own God. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us. –Charles Bukowski

I discovered this quotation through one of my Flickr contacts (thanks, Claire), and figured it would fit very well with the Mailer paper I’m writing for next month’s conference. This sounds like something I might say at the beginning of my first-year composition course — I didn’t know until now that I was channeling Bukowski. To me, this sounds like something I heard Mailer say about existentialism: that it’s a continuous asking of questions — an unease with absolutes. I belief this idea is in his last book On God.

The “drink beer” part will also fit in with my personal experiences with the legislation of morality here in Georgia: the law that does not allow alcohol to be sold on Sundays, except in restaurants.

I’ve also discovered a treasure-trove of church signs at Church Sign Generator. Yes, it allows you to make church signs, but it also has pages of real signs. Nice.