Margarine

The place was called The Bakery, and it was something of a Chicago institution.  Insofar as Valabar & Sons is based on any real place, it is The Bakery.  We used to drive from Minneapolis, eat there, then turn around and drive home.  It was well worth the journey.

Chef Louis — Lájos Szathmary — was an immense man with a massive gray mustache.  Periodically, during dinner, he would come out to meet the patrons and say hello.  Once, while he was chatting with us, it came out that I was a writer and we spoke about that for a bit.  From there, we got onto the subject of art in general, and I brought the conversation back to cooking.  I expressed the opinion that he was an artist.  He considered for a moment, then said, “I am an honest cook.”

“Can you explain that?” I said.  “I understand what honesty means in writing, but what does it mean in cooking?”

His Hungarian accent was thick, but his English was perfectly understandable.  He frowned a little, then said, “Every year, we use one pound of margarine.  For everything else, we use butter.”

Obviously, I had to know.  “What do you use one pound of margarine for?”

“We have a Christmas show once a year,” he explained.  “And to do it, we have to open up the building behind us.  The walkway is always icy, so we put margarine on our shoes so we don’t slip on the way.”

That’s what margarine is good for, you see.  For actual cooking, you use butter.  You use the best ingredients you can find.  You don’t scrimp on the details, and you don’t try to pull a fast one on the reader–excuse me, the customer.  If you ever find yourself thinking that the person you’re cooking for can’t taste the difference between butter and margarine, you’ve started down a road that leads to McDonald’s.

If there is joy in the story, let it flow naturally from events that feel inevitable, because the ingredients you have acquired and prepared and mixed together have formed that way.  The same if there is sorrow.  If there is death, make it real, make it meaningful.  If there is love, earn it.  If the food is spicy, let it be because the flavor combination you wish requires it, not because you added extra peppers to show how hot you can cook.  Sweet confections are fine, but you know and I know that there is a cloying, over-sweetness that can ruin the best dessert.  And if someone doesn’t care for your concoction because there isn’t enough sugar, or because it is too spicy, or there wasn’t enough action, or there was too much dialog, then at least you can know that what you set on the table was truthful.

The point is not to impress the reader with how good you are, but rather to delight, amaze, move, and even, if I may, epiphanize.  I am not the best writer whoever set fingers to keyboard, and sometimes my dishes don’t emerge from the kitchen tasting the way I want them to.  But I don’t cook my stories with margarine.  And neither should you.

A Brief Comment Inspired by SFWA Stuff

I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that almost no one would say, “I am on this side of the issue, and therefore it is all right to harass, bully, and abuse anyone on the other side.”  We wouldn’t say that, but sometimes we act like it. It seems to me, right now, that Mary Robinette Kowal is being bullied, and that pisses me off. I think Malzberg and Resnick were victims of bullying, and I don’t care for that, either.  And I don’t believe there is anything to do about it.  When a certain person made an idiotic (and insulting and degrading) comment about Mary, how can those who are either her friends or supporters of her position not object?  But then, at some point, the person who made the offensive comment finds the entire fucking internet coming down on his head until one wants to say, “Enough, already.”

Yeah, yeah, I know.  Cause and effect and actions and have consequences and blah blah.  I get that.  If you’re going to be an asshole in public, you should wear your flack-jacket.   And it seems to me that part of being a decent human being requires objecting, loudly, when women are shouted down, bullied, abused, and threatened for daring to suggest they ought to be treated as people.  BUT.

Isn’t there a point where we should say, “People on my side of this issue are getting abusive”?  I don’t know.   It’s hard to do.  I mean, it isn’t like there is some central organization that can put out a memo saying, “Okay, we’re done now.”  I know that when someone pisses me off (such as the recent attack on Mary, or certain offensive comments a while ago on “women sf writers”) I want to say something.

It is easy to decry bullying and abuse when the bullies are on the other side of the issue from you.  But I wish that, earlier, I had said, “I disagree with a great deal of what Malzberg and Resnick said in the Bulletin, but I think we’ve piled on them enough, and we ought to stop now.”

 

How to Respond to this Blog Post

I’ve noticed that several of my blog posts have resulted in discussions that haven’t gone the way I’ve wanted them to go.  I was pondering this when it hit me that, of course they haven’t, because I’ve never told you, the readers and commenters, what I wanted.  How can I expect you to react the way I want without telling you how?

Therefore, for this post, I’m going to explain exactly how I want the discussion to go.

1. Express surprise at my opinion, but remark that it is a new way of looking at things that you hadn’t before considered.  (You may, if you wish, make a few flattering asides about my prose style, but that isn’t necessary.)

2. Express polite, reasoned disagreement (ideally, this disagreement will be something really stupid so I can answer it easily).

3. When I reply, say that I’m right, and you’re wrong, and that I’ve completely changed your mind about the issue.

4. Direct others here, making sure they are people who will, as the kids say, “get with the program.”

There.  That isn’t hard.  Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

 

And Again, SFWA

Note: In between the time I wrote this and the time I posted it, SFWA President Steve Gould released a statement to the effect that the thing the petition (see below) is designed to prevent was never going to happen. My point, however, is the nature of the discussion, so I’m posting this anyway.

 

I think to get involved in this latest SFWA kerfuffle is to demonstrate beyond doubt that one has no sense of priorities, no sense of self-preservation, and, in general, no life.  So, of course, here I go.

A petition is circulating concerning God-help-us-all the SFWA Bulletin.  Let’s start at the beginning: SFWA is the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, an organization that is the butt of many jokes focusing on how little it does, but that, like a good super-hero, does its real work in the shadows.  I mean it–the SFWA Grievance Committee, for example, has solved innumerable problems for a lot of writers, and done so quietly and efficiently.  SFWA has provided money for health care to writers who otherwise would have been stuck.  And so on.  Generally, SFWA only appears to the public when someone is doing something stupid aimed at it, or it is doing something stupid.  This one might be both.

Several things happened a few issues ago in the SFWA Bulletin, a publication no one reads.  Many people felt that a number of things in recent issues had been offensive and degrading to women, and that feeling isn’t unreasonable. SFWA responded with a discussion of What To Do About It.  The idea was to come up with a sort of review board that would oversee what went into the Bulletin to prevent things that would be offensive to groups of members.  My immediate reaction was to wonder how anyone could object: I mean, it’s our organization, do we want it spewing, for example, overt racism?  Now, something in the back of my head was wondering, “But isn’t that the editor’s job?  Why do you need a separate committee for that?”  And, I’ll admit, the idea of a review board to watch out for Dangerous Politics in the Bulletin seems chillingly Orwellian.  But then, articles that leave huge sections of the membership feeling hurt, left out, and insulted don’t seem like such a good idea either.  Hell, I dunno.  This is where I am very proud of myself for never having put myself in the position of having to decide this kind of thing.

Others differed.  A guy named David Truesdale (amusingly, as I understand it, he isn’t a SFWA member) got up a petition.  When I first heard about it, my immediate reaction was to oppose the petition and support the decisions by the SFWA board, mostly on the simple basis of, “We really don’t want to make a bunch of our members feel like the organization doesn’t include them, and many were clearly feeling that way, and we need to do something about that.”  I made a snarky comment or two on Twitter about it.  There were a couple of versions of the petition.  The first draft of it was, to say the least, problematic.  There is a discussion of that here.

And that discussion is what has gotten me involved.  I mean, my initial reaction, as I said, was something like, “I don’t know, but I’m certainly more sympathetic to those opposed to the petition than the supporters.”  That lasted until fairly late yesterday evening when I read the entire discussion.

Here are some highlights:

This from a publisher: “all parties who have signed that petition can go ahead and recuse themselves from any projects (including paying ones) that I control.”

Yes, that happened.  A publisher just said, “If you express these opinions, you can’t get work.”  Does he have the right to make that decision?  Sure.  And I have the right to feel a chill down my spine when he does.  Worse, throughout the rest of the discussion, no one mentions being the least disturbed by it.

Will Shetterly writes: ‘strongly recommend reading the ACLU’s “What is censorship?” Here’s a bit from it:’ followed by a two paragraph quote. The reply is: “@Will Shetterly: You’re not welcome here. Please do not attempt to comment further.”  Again, you get to decide who comments on your page, and for all I know there is a history there; but I get to be disturbed by this response (and no other!) to a discussion of Free Speech by the ACLU.  In fact, that’s what convinced me to make my remarks here instead of there.

Also, en passant, while those on one side of the issue often seem confused about where the First Amendment does and doesn’t apply, those on the other side often seem to believe that the concept of Free Speech and Free Expression begins and ends with the First Amendment.  Though I am far from a free speech absolutist, I take issue with that belief.  News flash: Sometimes it is possible to do something wrong without breaking the law.

But let us return to the discussion.

There is some discussion along the lines of, “I signed the first, objectionable draft, but asked for changes,” “well then, why did you sign the first draft at all?”  This one is interesting.  The reply is an entirely valid answer to the question, “Why are you mad at me?” but says nothing at all useful about, “is the petition a good idea?”  There seems to be some confusion about this.

But what made me suddenly rub my eyes and go, “What the fuck?” was this exchange among four commenters:

Commenter A:”The members complained, overwhelmingly, about lack of oversight for the Bulletin, so the officers promise to take a more active role in overseeing production while a new editor gets started.”

Commenter B:”As for the outcry by an overwhelming group of SFWA members about the original BULLETIN items, my impression, subject to correction by someone closer to the workings of the organization than I am, is that it was a vocal minority that did the complaining, rather than any overwhelmingly large body.”

Commenter C [quoting Commenter B]:’“And if anyone here thinks that my objections to the appointment of a board of advance review constitutes my support for the publication of racist or sexist material in the BULLETIN or anywhere else, that person simply just doesn’t know me. ”

We’re inferring that not just from your objection to a board of advance review, but from other things you say, like this:

“As for the outcry by an overwhelming group of SFWA members about the original BULLETIN items, my impression, subject to correction by someone closer to the workings of the organization than I am, is that it was a vocal minority that did the complaining, rathe than any overwhelmingly large body.”’

Commenter D: ‘“As for the outcry by an overwhelming group of SFWA members about the original BULLETIN items, my impression, subject to correction by someone closer to the workings of the organization than I am, is that it was a vocal minority that did the complaining, rather than any overwhelmingly large body.”’

So if I am to understand you correctly, it is all right to be dismissive of the oppression or subjugation of a group if their numbers are small?’

There.  That.  WTF?

The level of confusion and disingenuousness here is astounding.  A makes the argument that an overwhelming number of members complained. B suggests that, perhaps, it was not an overwhelming number. C and D then turn this suggestion into support of oppression on the part of B (who, for the record, deserves props for being entirely reasonable and gentlemanly while being jumped on by all and sundry).

And then there was the guy who listed all the birth years of those who signed the petition, thus establishing that it was just a bunch of “dinosaurs.”  Heh.  Nothing offensive there.

Summation: I am not, at this point, signing the petition, because my only objection to SFWA’s policy is from my gut (that “Orwellian chill” I mentioned earlier), not from rational belief; and because I feel considerable sympathy for people who were offended by some things in the Bulletin; and because I recognize that the SFWA president and the board had to do something, and I’m not convinced that there was anything better they could have done; and because, in spite of my comments above about free speech, I’m not convinced that this is a free speech issue.

But the irrationality and personal attacks by many of those opposed to the petition both disgust me and make me deeply suspicious of their motives in all of this.