With the rise of booktok/booktwt, there's been this weird movement against literary criticism. It's a bizarre phenomenon, but this uptick in condemnation of criticism is so stifling. I understand that with the rise of these platforms, many people are being reintroduced into the habit of reading, which is why at the base level, I understand why many 'popular' books on booktok tend to be cozier.

The argument always falls into the 'this book means too much to me' or 'let people enjoy things,' which is rhetoric I understand -- at least fundamentally. But reading and writing have always been conduits for criticism, healthy natural criticism. We grow as writers and readers because of criticism. It's just so frustrating to see arguments like "how could you not like this character they've been the x trauma," or "why read this book if you're not going to come out liking it," and it's like...why not. That has always been the point of reading. Having a character go through copious amounts of trauma does not always translate to a character that's well-crafted. Good worldbuilding doesn't always translate to having a good story, or having beautiful prose doesn't always translate into a good plot.

There is just so much that goes into writing a story other than being able to formulate tropable (is that a word lol) characters. Good ideas don't always translate into good stories. And engaging critically with the text you read is how we figure that out, how we make sure authors are giving us a good craft. Writing is a form of entertainment too, and just like we'd do a poorly crafted show, we should always be questioning the things we read, even if we enjoy those things.

It's just werd to see people argue that we shouldn't read literature unless we know for certain we are going to like it. Or seeing people not be able to stand honest criticism of the world they've fallen in love with. I love ASOIAF -- but boy oh boy are there a lot of problems in the story: racial undertones, questionable writing decisions, weird ness overall. I also think engaging critically helps us understand how an author's biases can inform what they write. Like, HP Lovecraft wrote eerie stories, he was also a raging racist. But we can argue that his fear of PoC, his antisemitism, and all of his weird fears informed a lot of what he was writing. His writing is so eerie because a lot of that fear comes from very real, nasty places. It's not to say we have to censor his works, but he influences a lot of horror today and those fears, that racial undertone, it is still very prevalent in horror movies today. That fear of the 'unknown,'

Gone with the Wind is an incredibly racist book. It's also a well-written book. I think a lot of people also like confine criticism to just a syntax/prose/technical level -- when in reality criticism should also be applied on an ideological level. Books that are well-written, well-plotted, etc., are also -- and should also -- be up for criticism. A book can be very well-written and also propagate harmful ideologies. I often read books that I know that (on an ideological level), I might not agree with. We can learn a lot from the books we read, even the ones we hate.

I just feel like we're getting to the point where people are just telling people to 'shut up and read' and making spaces for conversation a uniform experience. I don't want to be in a space where everyone agrees with the same point. Either people won't accept criticism of their favorite book, or they think criticism shouldn't be applied to books they think are well written. Reading invokes natural criticism -- so does writing. That's literally what writing is; asking questions, interrogating the world around you. It's why we have literary devices, techniques, and elements. It's never just taking the words being printed at face value.

You can identify with a character's trauma and still understand that their badly written. You can read a story, hate everything about it, and still like a character. As I stated a while back, I'm reading Fourth Wing; the book is terrible, but I like the main character. The worldbuilding is also terrible, but the author writes her PoC characters with respect. It's not hard to acknowledge one thing about the text, and still find enough to enjoy the book. And authors grow when we're honest about what worked and what didn't work. Shadow and Bone was very formulaic and derivative at points, but Six of Crows is much more inventive and inclusive. Veronica Roth's Carve the Mark had some weird racial problems, but Chosen Ones was a much better book in terms of representation. Percy Jackson is the same way. These writers grow, not just by virtue of time, but because they were critiqued and listened to that critique. C.S. Lewis and Tolkien always publically criticized each other's work. Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes had a legendary friendship and back and forth with one another's works which provides so much insight into the conversations black authors and creatives were having.

Writing has always been about asking questions; prodding here and there, critiquing. It has always been a conversation, a dialogue. I urge people to love what they read, and read what they love, but always ask questions, always understand different perspectives, and always keep your mind open. Please stop stifling and controlling the conversations about your favorite literature, and please understand that everyone will not come out with the same reading experience as you. It doesn't make their experience any less valid than yours.

it's like, yes, i do read a lot of books that are inherently about social and political issues. books that respond to the questions that identity politics raise. didactic books that make a point about #diversity and #representation. this is important. but i don't want that to be mistaken for the idea that "all books have to be moral or didactic". i believe novels are primarily meant to, as ottessa moshfegh puts it, "expand consciousness" and teach us as individuals about the best and worst of ourselves. critical readings of novels will of course consider the social and political context and ramifications of a work and its ultimate reception by readers. but to limit a work to only its potential real life implications is in itself a sign of a lack of media literacy. it's not some "superior critical reading skills" bro. some novels are simply meant to reveal, not to teach or to respond, and that's not in the least a critical shortcoming.

I personally am thrilled and think it’s super neat that I’m seeing more and more depictions of remus as a brown boy

BUT

it’s important not to lose sight of conversation within that about what that means for a character who is at various moments coded by his narrative as a) othered and distrusted by his society, b) “animal,” and c) hiding his true nature most of the time

I’m not saying don’t do it! I’m saying KEEP doing it! but with awareness of dehumanizing tropes and an aim to deconstruct them

I NEED ADVICE!

This is my third pass at this character and this is where I’m at so far!

In case you didn’t see my previous posts, I’m writing a comic based in post-apocalyptic Peru. It’ll have major elements of the Inca empire mixed with modern elements but also more cyberpunk elements.

I know it’s a lot but I’m convinced it’ll create something unique and really interesting.

The man below will be the leader of the last surviving peoples and father of one of the main characters!

Keep in mind that their society isn’t struggling, they’re thriving. The nuclear explosion happened years prior and they’ve already rebuilt while taking inspiration from the Incan empire to run things.

So this man is their Sapa Inca, or their King. He’s meant to represent traditionalism but also the control over machinery. As he believes cybernetics and hardware are merely tools for people to use.

Just thought I should give a bit more of a backstory!

With this pass of the design I added far more details and cybernetics to him but I’m really more sure if it’s too much?

Someone said his face looked too busy and I do see that but I think I’ve been staring at it for too long.

Also, all of the textiles and patterns I’ve drawn are really just placeholders as I can only do so small with my markers and the comic will 100% be done digitally, so I’ll have far better control and fully plan on either finding or creating specific brushes for all the patterning.

Most circles in his design will actually be glowing stones that’ll shift in hue depending on the tone of the scene he’s in.

There’s some parts I don’t like about his design like his boot and I’m not fully sold on the design of the cybernetics as I’ve seen some more sleeker designs that I might use instead. But I’m really not sure.

If anyone has any advice or ideas or even critiques them I’d love to hear them!

Being culturally accurate is also extremely important to me, so if anyone who is more versed in that department has any advice or criticisms then please let me know.

Especially if anything is offensive.

@andeanbeauties

@thebeardedladyofthelake

@batmeringue

Sorry for the tagging but you all commented on the last part and I thought you might want to see the next one! There was also others I wanted to tag but for some reason tumblr wasn’t letting me! So I’m so sorry for that!!

The most disappointing thing about Stephenie Meyer's Midnight Sun was how little Edward's psyche and internal world were affected by the ability to know people (generally and individually) at a much deeper level than anyone else.

imo, Stephenie took an incredibly reductivist view of who people are in their own heads, and Edward's absolute disinterest in the people around him was both surprising and off-putting to me. I think he would have been a much more interesting character if he was actually deeply, obsessively interested in people, had a really robust model for categorizing people according to different patterns of thought, and was constantly anxious about his ability to identify and manipulate problem people perfectly and expertly on the fly.

Because Edward SHOULD have (for interesting story purposes) gotten his entire sense of value and belonging in the Cullen clan—despite his wretched past—FROM those skills and the way they benefited the group. It makes sense, with how melodramatically tortured and self-loathing he is, that he would have to have an equally self-loathing workaround that let him disbelieve every loving thought that's ever been absently directed at him, maybe attributing his family's generosity and good feeling to a base instinct to keep around people who increase chances of survival. He should believe people love him Because of his ability to protect. We even see this pattern in how he'll later interact with Bella, hating himself constantly for every ounce of danger he puts her in, sabotaging their relationship when the risk becomes too great that she'll realize what a shit choice he is and leave him for it.

And then of course there's the fact that reading EVERYONE'S MIND ALL THE TIME should drive you a little bit mad. You get 100x, 1000x the information listening to a conversation between friends than anyone else. You know people in ways they don't even know themselves. Everyone is Highly Predictable because you are highly obsessed with paying enough attention to make sure they are predictable, and you do not experience relationships like anyone else on the planet. Trust is not a thing, because you have All The Information. Not knowing how someone will react is not a thing, because you have A Humanity's Worth of Predictive Data On How Other People Like This Person Have Reacted. You're not a person, you're God In A Person's Body, But If You Slip Up No One Will Love You, and it is just frankly hard to find people who relate.

So with all that in mind, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN REALLY FUCKING AWESOME to watch him, after discovering he can't read the new girl's thoughts, become first frustrated then manically, tortuously OBSESSED with Bella because she threatens absolutely everything he believes about himself. What if she's dangerous and I can't warn them? What if they realize I'm a fraud???

So he starts stalking her, talking to her, trying frantically to figure out what the physical and verbal cues are that signal all the mental patterns in people that he knows like the back of his hand, searching desperately for the warning signs he can't read in her mind, like someone who's gone unexpectedly blind. Complicated, of course, by the fact that HOLY SHIT SHE SMELLS DELICIOUS. And slowly, slowly, as he interacts with a human being like HE'S a human being for the first time, he starts to fall in love with her and how she makes him feel. He falls in love with her because she and she alone can make him human again.

The second most disappointing part of Midnight Sun was that Edward fell in love with Bella because "she's a good person" according to an equally boring, reductive, Mormon-culture-inspired view of feminine goodness. I mean, in the text, all she does is make a single comment about how comicon is Pretty Cool Actually™️. As though nerds who go to comicon are a particularly risky group of people to stand up for, as though there are not dozens of people at this school who wouldn't have said the same thing, who are not, at the very moment the interaction happens, also Being Nice™️.

No, no, no, no, fellow vampire fans. Edward should have fallen in love with Bella because, for the first time in his entire vampiric life, Edward is able to interact with another human the way people are meant to. Without knowing everything before it's said. Without knowing her so well from a clinical, objective point of view that he knows what she's going to think before she thinks it. He should have fallen in love with her because she IS normal in a way that's so rare for him that it's precious. Because she can change her mind and he won't see it coming. Because he can't break down every little flaw in her mental reasoning and just has to take her at her word. Bella represents Normalcy for a man who cannot have normal relationships, who is completely isolated and alienated from humanity by the voices in his head. Loving her because she was Nice™️ was just utter bullshit. He loves her because She Contributes Positively To His State Of Being.

In other news, this headcanon is also why I was absolutely devastated by the epilogue ending of Breaking Dawn, in which Bella learns to let Edward into her head. It felt like a punch to the gut for Edward. Like "no, wait, you don't understand how important it is to me that I DON'T see, that I am always able to feel human around you, without the clinical monster taking over. That I Have to trust you." That's what made the whole relationship for him, imo. Edward made her a vampire, and she made him human.

(Of course, I understand that this narrative would have broken the "hot guy is obsessed with normal girl and she has to make absolutely no effort and is under no pressure to be or do anything to continue to be deserving of that love" fantasy, but, well... That's why Midnight Sun should never have been written in the first place.)

Literary critic sections in bookshops: french edition

Saw a really bad take today that basically boils down to "why bother separating art from the artist when there's so much other art out there: just go enjoy the other art. Nobody cares if you have fond memories of the old art just go make new ones lol."

It’s bad for a few reasons. Let’s get down to cases. (Warning: I talk about Barthes.) 1) That's not how brains work. I can’t tell someone to stop being in love with someone. I can’t tell someone that their favourite city is a hellhole. I can’t even tell someone to stop enjoying kale. I mean... I can, but not with any expectation of a serious result. Neither you nor I can usually meaningfully affect the desires, wants, and tastes of others: we can provide counterfactuals to taste, such as ‘the person you’re in love with is cruel to me and other people you care about maybe you shouldn’t love them,’ or ‘LA is a vapid town full of vapid people and it smells bad you shouldn’t like going there,’ or especially ‘kale was forged in the darkest pits of Utumno by the dark lord Melkor in mockery of spinach and your mouth cringes at the flavour stop eating that shit,’ but that usually has no effect. And that’s fine. That’s how brains work. Especially in the neuro-divergent community, in which hyper-fixations are something people can have really no control over, swanning-in and telling someone to just... like something else, telling someone to just abandon the thing their brain has subsumed into its quintessence as a form of day-to-day stability, their wellspring of pleasure in a brutal word—that’s not going to work (and a smug little ‘lol’ at the end of your post does not change the fundamental rudeness of the imperative.)

2) Especially in regards to bigger media franchises (and speaking as someone who finds critique really important), there's something unhinged in acting like we can all just divorce ourselves from things that have had inescapable impact on culture because we don’t like them, either from a taste standpoint or a moral standpoint (although the two are far too often conflated these days.)

To pick an example at random: The Mists of Avalon is one of the most important books in all of feminist fantasy. It is extraordinarily influential and traces of it can be found in the writers who followed in its wake, writing homages, writing counters, all encouraged or driven by these later writers relationships to Mists. Mists of Avalon’s author is, alas, someone whom we would now, socially, very much like to shove down the memory hole, but we cannot reverse the effects of Mists. It will never go away, and to pretend that it has—to act as though it never existed, or that by not acknowledging it and its influence (or, perhaps more crucially, by not studying it or engaging with it to understand why everything that came after it owes it a debt) is the morally correct choice is an approach to art that I reject. It is based on a wrong-headed belief that art should only ever be a form of comfort, both textually and meta-textually. The viewpoint seems to be that if the art has a ‘problem,’ if it cannot be fully comforting, then it should be abandoned. Absurd. Idiotic. Juvenile. We hobble ourselves as critical thinkers (which we should always strive to be)  when we ignore these nested layers of understanding—the strata of pop culture—that everything is built on. I find that dangerous. If you don’t know what came before then you can’t understand what got you here or where you’re going, and you don’t really comprehend all that a text might be trying to say. All sorts of important things fall through the cracks when you start ignoring any art you find personally distasteful.

3) If you cannot separate art from artist then you're going to lose a lot of good, interesting, or challenging art, particularly in places where the divergence between your opinion and the artist is relatively small. For every criminal whose work you might reasonable find no longer palatable, there's other nuanced authors for whom you are simply not similar. I disagree with Tolkien in several major ways, but I think excising his art out of culture or simply my life results in a much poorer experience of living. Which leads to:

4) The farther back you go the more art and artist are intrinsically divorced because we simply don't know all that much about the artist. Most great paintings are functionally anonymous, and there are entire centuries where biographies (at least to the degree modern fandom content consumption seems to demand) essentially do not exist. We cannot study Shakespeare and know if the man was more distasteful than we might like in his personal life. I cannot promise you that Shakespeare was never gross to someone in a bar. I cannot promise you he never pressured people unduly, or scammed people out of money, or defended a really gross friend. I cannot prove that away from his writing he wasn’t gross to women, or queer people, or foreigners, that there was not the Tudor equivalent of Twitter receipts for scandalous, problematic behaviour lurking in his life.  We just don’t know enough about Shakespeare to speak with much certainty on his moral virtue as an artist—and that needs to be okay. We actually need to separate art from artist more, because the assumption that social media has brought is that we should have intimate, daily access to an artist’s life, opinions, political beliefs, and even location. That’s wrong. That’s grotesque, and intrusive, and it is just messed up! No! You don’t need to know anything about an artist to enjoy their work! Shit, you shouldn’t have to know anything about an artist to consume their work if the work gives you pleasure, or interest, or does anything to you that art is meant to do. Despite the extremely bad fandom interpretation, Roland Barthes’ Death of the Author (which, hey, opens with an sentence that some might well consider transphobic, so are we going to declare Barthes problematic and stop using Death of the Author to justify our awful fan fic choices? I mean that would require any of you to have ever read it, but, y’know...) does not argue that the author had no influence on the content of a work, that an author’s beliefs, politics, and choices can be separated from (or, more specifically, ignored-in)the text—especially if we don’t like it. Barthes’ argument is, in fact, that that act of transmission, the alchemy of art-creation, forever sunders a work from its author by the very nature of language itself. Even should I tell you the extremely autobiographical short story of “yesterday I went to see Bob’s Burgers: The Movie. It was a delight and I think you should go,” that sentence is not truly about me, but the crafted “I” of the story: I, the real person, am not the I of the thrilling tale of the trip to the cinema. The author is dead: they cannot live in their work because the moment it is transmitted is no longer a living moment. (Italo Calvino covers the same strange nature of I-as-Character in his seminal work of metafiction If On A Winter’s Night A Traveller...)

In other words, though the author can never be absent from their work, meaning in art can only ever come from what you, the observer, bring to it. As Barthes puts it: “Every text is eternally written in the here and now.” No understanding of an author as a person is needed, necessary, or arguably even desirable when approaching art: your connection to it, how you understand it, what it means and how you are shaped by that meeting, exists only in the present, in the act of engaging with the art. (For the record I think Barthes is somewhat too encompassing in his beliefs, I don’t agree with him in full, but the underlying point is: art can not only be separated artist, art is always separate from artist. The artist cannot be the art.)

5) Purity culture is boring. According to these bad takes, we must demand ideological compliance with all our consumed art, and we are somehow bad or stupid people when we form connections with art made by problematic, challenging, or perhaps even reprehensible people> This is such a childish complaint. This standard to which all artists and art-consumers must be held is an irrational one. Modern fandom culture seems utterly unable to accept artists as humans: people who err, who have biases, blind spots, and beliefs. I have been around ling enough to see the term ‘problematic’ lose all meaning, to mutate into a yimakh shemo, a denunciation from which there can be no remorse. Modern fandom culture frequently seems to expect a certain level of investment nomadism: you stick with a work until its author errs, at which points you are to immediately move on, abandoning the old thing completely. Again, it is the quote up at the top that inspired this whole tirade: we are to know all aspects of an artist, we are to judge those actions unceasingly, and at the first ‘error’ we are to just abandon the art and find something new. We should simply like something else at will. It’s tiring. It’s boring. And I am sick of the animosity, the smug judgement, the crucifixions and the damnatio memoriæ. I’m just tired of this puritan impulse in which I must justify my pleasures to the masses in order to prove that my free time is spent virtuously. I must be quick to denounce all that is ungodly, and allow no wickedness to sully my heart. I read no evil, I listen to no evil, I ship no evil. Piss off. [Edit: in response to some comments, I should note that yes, there is a distinction between engaging with the art of a problematic artist, and handing them money. While we cannot often just ‘stop liking something’ we discover comes from a morally complicated place, we can quite easily not support an amoral person financially.]

Heart and Sole: A Tri-Theory Literary Critique of Gatmaitan's Sandosenang Sapatos

Written by: Delos Santos, Cindy Etom, Airah Clare Nufable, Cleshen Panal, Mark Jade Pido, Zyron Sabado, Clark Ivan Santos, Hannah Levee

“Alay ko ang kuwentong ito sa lahat ng batang kinapos ng damdamin at kaluluwa, at sa kanilang nagkulang ng isang kamay, isang paa, isang daliri, isang mata. [I dedicate this story to all of the children who are lacking in feeling and soul, and to those who are missing a hand, a foot, a finger, and an eye.]” — Luis P. Gatmaitan, M.D.

In Gatmaitan's poignant narrative, "Sandosenang Sapatos," the readers are introduced to the world of a character called “Tatay”, a skilled shoemaker renowned in their town for crafting exquisite footwear. The story revolves around the central character, Karina, Tatay's daughter, who grows up surrounded by the intricacies of her father's craft. In this literary critique, the readers will explore the narrative through the lenses of Formalism, Psychological, and Biographical theories, in order to unravel the layers of symbolism, character motivations, and the profound influence of the author's own experiences on the story itself.

Formalism involved scrutinizing the story's structure, language, and stylistic choices. Gatmaitan's portrayal of Tatay's craftsmanship, the vivid descriptions of the shoes, and the recurring motif of footwear become essential elements to explore. On the other hand, through the lens of Psychological theory, the readers analyze the characters' inner workings and motivations. The emotional journey of the characters, especially Susie, Karina's sister who was born without feet, opens avenues to understand the psychological impact of physical differences and the resilience of the human spirit.

Meanwhile, Biographical theory provides a unique perspective as we consider Gatmaitan's own background and experiences. The author, who is also a pediatrician, infuses the narrative with themes of love, acceptance, and the complexities of parenthood. The biographical lens offers insights into how Gatmaitan's professional expertise and personal encounters may have shaped the portrayal of medical challenges and familial bonds within the story.

Through these three lenses, the readers aim to unravel the complexities of "Sandosenang Sapatos," examining not only its formal elements and psychological depth, but also understanding the impact of Gatmaitan's own life experiences on the creation of this heartfelt short story.

First, for the formalistic approach, the short story used the first person as its point of view. It utilized the pronouns “ako [I]”, “ akin [my]”, and “kami [we]” throughout the story. With these pronouns, the readers analyzed that the story was written based on the character’s perspective, which is Karina. Along with this, as the story progresses, the readers observe that the events are based on her experiences with her classmates, other people, and mainly, her family.

For the setting, the story is situated in a town where Karina and her family live. Their home symbolizes love and strength, showing how they support each other despite the challenges. Through the setting, the story explores the contrast between dreams and reality, particularly through Susie's dreams of beautiful shoes and the harsh realities of her disability. The setting not only provides a backdrop but also deeply influences the emotional atmosphere, allowing the readers to empathize with the characters journey of love, loss, and acceptance within their family and community.

For the structure, it is characterized by its plot, set in a town where the characters are introduced. As the plot develops, the readers can gain insights on what is happening in the family and the significance of the shoes as a symbol in the story through the first-point of view of the narrator. The narrator's viewpoint focuses on her interactions with her father and sister, Susie, providing readers with a deeper understanding of the events unfolding within the family. Additionally, symbolism is woven into the narrative, with shoes representing various themes, including identity, hope, and the bond between family members. Also, the setting provides context for the events that unfold, including societal judgment and the challenges faced by Susie's disability. Through its structure, the story effectively conveys its themes and messages, highlighting the importance of unconditional love and acceptance within a family amidst life's trials and tribulations.

For the characters, it involves Karina, her father, her mother, and Susie. Karina, who is the main character and the one who is narrating the story, is a loving daughter and sister. She is willing to do anything to make her family happy, especially her father. She is willing to go beyond her limits just to fulfill her father's dream. This is evident in the part of the story when Susie was born with deformities, and now cannot fulfill her father's dream for her to become a ballerina. Now as a loving daughter, even if she did not like ballet, she still decided to persuade her mother to enroll her in a ballet school. Moreover, Karina is a loving sister. Despite Susie's deformities, she did not treat her differently. She is willing to adjust and stand up for her. She became her wheelchair assistant and defender against her bullies. Furthermore, Susie’s condition never became a hindrance for them to make a strong bond. They found a lot of games that did not require the use of feet. With Karina’s statement, which is “Lagi nga niya akong tinatalo sa sungka, jackstone, scrabble, at pitik-bulag. [She always beats me in sungka, jackstone, scrabble, and pitik-bulag.]”, the readers understood that they really have a good relationship with each other.

In addition, Karina’s father, a supporting character, is a skillful shoemaker. He is well-known in their town for making creative, durable, and excellent shoes. It can be supported with Karina’s statement, which is “Ayon sa mga sabi-sabi, tatalunin pa raw ng mga sapatos ni Tatay ang mga sapatos na gawang-Marikina. [From what we heard, my father’s shoes were so much better than the shoes made in Marikina.]”. Tatay is also a loving father. Aside from the fact that he always made shoes for Karina on different occasions, he showed his love for his family in many ways. He is always willing to protect them from other people, especially when Susie got bullied by a guy when they went on a picnic. He even told Susie one bed time that he and her mother will always love her even if she had no feet. Most importantly, his love is unconditional. Knowing Susie’s condition, he still made shoes for her even if he knows that Susie cannot wear these. With his love and talent for shoemaking, he also wants Susie to be part of what he always does by making her beautiful shoes.

Karina’s mother, who is also a supporting character, is a loving mother. Same with her father, she is willing to keep her family from harm and did not treat Susie differently. The last character, who is Susie, is Karina’s little sister. Even if it is not her perspective, she is also considered as a main character since the story mainly revolves around her. Susie is born with deformities, in which she had no feet. However, her family showered her with the love she needed, and even more. Her family always makes her feel that she is very special and there is nothing wrong with her.

Each character has a significance in the story since each of them contributes to it as a whole. For the plot, the story introduces Karina’s father as a famous shoemaker in their town. His father made her many exceptional shoes for every occasion such as Christmas, birthdays, school openings. Now as the story goes on, it introduces her mother who got pregnant when she was in second grade. After her little sister, Susie, was born, they found out that she had deformities. This marks the beginning of the conflict, as her father's dream for Susie, to become a ballerina, crashes. To sum all things, each character really has a crucial role that makes the story as a whole.

Furthermore, the use of imagery is present in the story. It is highly evident when Karina described the shoes that her father made for Susie. She used the description such as “dilaw na tsarol na may dekorasyong sunflower sa harap [yellow patent leather shoes with sunflower upfront]”, “kulay pulang velvet na may malaking buckle sa tagiliran [red velvet shoes with a big side buckle]”, “asul na sapatos na bukas ang dulo at litaw ang mga daliri [blue open-toed shoes with her own toes peeking through]”, and many more. With this, while the readers were reading the story, the words used by Karina helped them to have an image painted in their minds on what the shoes would look like. Moreover, imagery is also used when Karina and her family went to the park for a picnic, and encountered a guy that criticized Susie for her condition. With the statement “Biglang namula si Tatay sa mga narinig. Tumikom ang mga kamao. [My father turned red. He clenched his fist.]”, the readers can visualize her father’s face in that situation. Through this imagery, the readers can imagine how mad he was with the guy that insulted his daughter.

In summary, "Sandosenang Sapatos" employs a formalistic lens that brings out the narrative's core. The use of first-person perspective, with pronouns like "ako" and "akin," roots the story in Karina's viewpoint, highlighting her experiences with family and the town. The setting, portraying a town marked by love and resilience, contrasts dreams and realities, notably Susie's aspirations against the challenges of her disability. The plot unfolds dynamically, shedding light on family dynamics and the symbolic role of shoes. Characters, from Karina's devotion to her father's shoemaking and Susie's resilience, play essential roles. Imagery, especially in describing Susie's shoes and intense moments, offers a visual connection for readers. "Sandosenang Sapatos" is a straightforward exploration of love, identity, and acceptance, prompting readers to engage with the emotional aspects within family and societal contexts.

Second, looking at the text using a psychological lens imparted to the readers what may be going through the characters' minds as the story progresses, especially the turmoil created by physical differences, and how familial love and the indomitable human will rise above these difficulties.

The characterization of Tatay in the story, particularly his passion for shoemaking and love of family, is a recurring theme, despite people insulting his daughter Susie as seen in the line “Tingnan n’yo o, puwedeng pang-karnabal ‘yung bata!”, or being the topic of gossip, as people try to create fantastical and unbelievable reasons why Susie was born without feet, he continues to create shoes for her regardless, showing his motivation to provide and care for his family, and his motivation to push through struggles in life.

Karina also follows the same thread, and this can be shown through her self-sacrifice, wanting to learn ballet to fulfill the dreams of her father, playing with her sister through games that do not need feet, defending her from bullies, pushing her wheelchair, and generally assisting her. Her dedication and grit once again triumphs over difficulties.

Nanay’s character also shows resilience and love all in the midst of all the adversity. “Nagkaroon kasi ako ng impeksyon anak.” Her inability to stop Susie's illness causes her to feel guilty and sad. She also experiences psychological effects from the gossip and judgment from society over Susie's condition, including a strong desire to protect her daughter from harm and protective instincts.

Susie is portrayed as a strong, creative person who finds comfort and happiness in her aspirations and goals. Susie's fantasies about these intricate and exquisite shoes show the psychological effects of growing up with a physical impairment. She may be using these dreams as a coping method, escaping the confines of her physical reality and finding solace in an idealized version of herself with a perfect pair of feet.

The recurring theme of Susie's dreams about shoes also indicate a longing for a sense of normalcy and the desire to experience activities she might not be able to in reality, such as wearing the ballet shoes her father wants her to have. Her ability to find joy in small moments, and her creative imagination are notable aspects of her character that reflected these coping strategies that yielded her to have a positive outlook in life.

The psychological lens reveals in the narrative the struggle, coping strategies, resilience and love of the characters. Tatay with his undying determination of making shoes for Susie despite her complications, Karina sacrificing her own ideals just to make his father’s wish come true, Nanay grapples with the emotional weight of Susie's condition and societal judgments, while Susie uses her dreams and imagination as a means of navigating and finding happiness in a world that sometimes fails to understand her.

Finally, the readers analyze the short story through the third and last literary theory lens, which is the Biographical Lens. This lens unveils a deeper layer of understanding as the readers examine the author's life, experiences, and personal context. This lens allows proper analysis of how the author's unique background and journey may have influenced the narrative, characters, and thematic elements within the short story. In this case, the readers explore the life of Dr. Luis P. Gatmaitan, the Filipino author of “Sandosenang Sapatos”.

Luis P. Gatmaitan, M.D., widely known as “Tito Dok” to his readers, has written more than 40 children’s books. Aside from being a Filipino children’s author, Tito Dok is also an accomplished medical doctor specializing in pediatrics. Currently, he chairs the Philippine Board on Books for Young People (PBBY), and is part of the National Council for Children’s Television (NCCT) as a child development specialist (Monde, 2022). Both of these positions are highly notable, as they serve as evidence for Tito Dok’s passion for pediatric healthcare and literary education.

Most of Tito Dok’s books contain themes that revolve around differently-abled people, senility, adoption, coping with death, coping with cancer, childhood diseases, and children’s rights. One of his popular works is “Sandosenang Sapatos” or “A Dozen Pairs of Shoes”. This particular book has won him an award in the 2001 Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature, which are a set of literary awards for Philippine writers. Furthermore, “Sandosenang Sapatos” was named the 2005 Outstanding Book for Young People with Disabilities by the International Board on Books for Young People (IBBY), which showcases the global impact of Tito Dok’s work. Recently, the short story was also featured as a musical play, solidifying its place in the Philippine literary industry. 

Tito Dok’s inspiration for writing this short story can be traced back to when he attended a training course in creating non-fiction books for young people in Japan. The author was amazed by how the Japanese people respected those with mobility issues, leading him to have an idea of writing about these kinds of people. One time, he had a patient who was born without feet. Tito Dok then thought, “What if this child was born to a father who worked as a shoemaker?" This then led to the writing of the aforementioned short story.

Tito Dok possesses a wide knowledge of medical information, which was evident in his writing. In his work “Sandosenang Sapatos,” the readers have read the part where Susie’s mother disclosed to her eldest, Karina, that she had German measles while she was carrying Susie, resulting in her youngest daughter to be born without feet. This particular scenario reflects the expertise of the author in the medical field. As a doctor himself, Tito Dok must have studied or witnessed that illnesses during pregnancy, such as German measles, could lead to birth defects (Leonor & Mendez, 2023). 

In the short story, despite missing her lower limbs, Susie grew up in a loving and caring family who never treated her less for being differently-abled. The author came up with this particular character trait after observing that “Some children grew up to be physically whole but emotionally disabled, or physically disabled but physically whole”. The author was able to convey this personal message to the readers, instilling hope in others about physically challenged people like the short story’s Susie. 

In conclusion, "Sandosenang Sapatos" by Luis P. Gatmaitan is a narrative that explores the concepts of human emotion, resilience, and familial love. The author's dedication, expressed in the heartfelt dedication to children facing physical challenges, sets the tone for a narrative rich in depth and compassion. Through the lenses of Formalism, Psychological theory, and Biographical insights, the readers have unraveled and given an in-depth critique and analysis of the work.

The lens of Formalism unveiled the structure of the story, with a first-person perspective amplifying Karina's experiences, while vivid descriptions of shoes become symbolic threads woven throughout the narrative. Psychological theory invited readers into the minds of characters, exposing their struggles, coping strategies, and unwavering love in the face of adversity. The characters - Karina, Tatay, Nanay, and Susie - each contribute significantly to the plot, portraying a resilient family facing life's trials with unconditional love.

And of course, the Biographical lens adds another layer of understanding, showcasing Dr. Gatmaitan's dual roles as a renowned pediatrician and a prolific children's author. His background in pediatric healthcare is reflected in the narrative's accurate portrayal of medical conditions, emphasizing the author's commitment to educating young minds. The story's origins in Tito Dok's encounter with a patient born without feet add a personal touch, infusing the tale with authenticity and empathy.

"Sandosenang Sapatos" stands as a testament to the power of storytelling to foster understanding, empathy, and hope. Dr. Gatmaitan's masterful blend of literary prowess and medical expertise creates a narrative that resonates beyond its pages, leaving an indelible mark on readers' hearts and minds. Through the holistic combination of formal elements, psychological depths, and biographical influences, the readers gain a comprehensive appreciation for the layers of meaning embedded in this heartfelt short story, celebrating the strength of the human spirit and the enduring bonds of family.

Critical Reread - ACOFAS Chapter 8

Join me for a critical reread of A Court of Frost and Starlight

Chapter 8 - Cassian

Cassian visits Emerie’s shop in Wind Haven. He buys out her entire stock of winter gear.

“Not a face of beauty, but striking.”

re: Emerie. Rude. 

“He refrained from mentioning that she was one of the few Illyrians who’d ever accepted his money. Most had spat on it, or thrown it on the ground.”

I know it’s been well established, but I just kind of don’t believe bastards are so uncommon that it would cause this kind of commotion.

“For the delivery charges.”

She didn’t even say she did deliveries.

“They don’t like me, either. You’re in good company.”

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t actually participate in their culture. Even this gesture is just walking in with money and walking away without actually engaging. 

reminder that you should consume media that is uncomfortable. that you should not avoid specific media just because it has problematic aspects. if you avoid all “problematic” media because interacting with it somehow taints your moral purity or makes you a bad person, you lack the ability to critically analyze media. i cannot emphasize how important it is to consume media you do not agree with. you must, MUST be capable of understanding nuance, of interacting critically with flawed works of art. it is a life skill. it is crucial to living in the world today.

My real problem with the New Adult genre as a whole is how similar these stories not just at a concept level, but the prose level. This is the biggest reason why New Adult always reads much younger than Young Adult or Middle Grade novels. Say what you will about the Hunger Games era — and even the Twilight era, but those stories were always only identical at the idea level. Divergent obviously comes in to capitalize off of Hunger Games, and those stories mirror each other on the surface level, but the writing of those novels reads completely different to one another. Shatter Me reads different from both of those novels, even if I can opinions about the writing decisions. The tropes might be similar, or diluted down from Hunger Games, but the stories still read like their own.

New Adult, as it is now, reads exactly the same not just at the idea level (courts, dark romance, magical Faeries, dark-haired love interest) but literally on the prose level. I remember when I reviewed Serpent and Dove for the first time and I realized just how similar the writing was the author who will not be named. These stories make the same grammatical mistakes, the same sentence structure, the same exact plot points. They’re ALL copying the same author’s prose and it’s so jarring. It’s the same narrative voice, the same syntax/sentence structure, the same exact character descriptions. Even when the story is trying to delve into the complex themes the stories all lean into the same moralistic, simplistic style of telling instead of showing.

The dystopian era of YA was always heavily generalized, but a lot of the stories always deviated at some point from one another. At some point these stories became their own narratives. And there was some very good literature to come out from that era. If you look you’ll find wholesome, original content. We’re not even getting that now. It’s literally so similar that if you give any random NA book that’s popular on TikTok any person could guess the plot points down to a T. All the way down the the ending of the story. Even down to the ‘plot twists.’ It sort of feels like insanity.

I could find a YA or MG book that reads much more mature in a heartbeat. Fourth Wing may be explicit in terms of sexual content, but it reads younger that Middle Grade. I was reading A School of Good and Evil and even that reads more mature than that book. I think authors need to really give themselves more time with their editors, because even when the books offer interesting ideas they end up being written in a way that’s exactly the same.

The Ideology behind the Hero’s Journey: Epistemology of Ignorance

Critique of Hero’s Journey: videography

Joseph Campbell and the Myth of the Monomyth | Part 1

Joseph Campbell and the N@zis | Part 2

Analyzing the Hero’s Journey | Fragments of an anarchist anthropology

Marvel’s Guardians of The Status Quo

The Myth of Heroic Masculine Purpose

Partial Bibliography | Alternatives and Critiques of the Hero’s Journey as compiled by Maggie Mae Fish (see descriptions of the first two videos above)

“Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction” by Ursula K. Le Guin

“Heroine’s Journey” by Maureen Murdoch

“The Problem of Woman as Hero in the Work of Joseph Campbell” by Sarah Nicholson

“Reimagining the Modern American Monomyth” by Carley Peace

“The Man Behind the Myth: Should We Question the Hero’s Journey?” by Sarah E. Bond, Joel Christensen

“Why I Seldom Teach The Hero’s Journey Anymore - And What I teach instead” by Craig Chalquist

“Mythology: the Myth of Joseph Campbell” by Mary R. Lefkowitz

“The Hero at a Thousand Places: Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five as Anti-Monomyth” by Ankit Raj

Heroes (Un)Limited: The Theory of the Hero's Journey and the Limitation of Superhero Myth by Brett M. Rogers

As a side note, while literary criticism was being constructed around certain ideologies, music theory had undergone the same past.

The second video here in particular reminded me of Adam Neely’s Music Theory and White Supremacy (with contributions from Philip A. Ewell)

See also:

“Music Theory and the White Racial Frame” by Philip A. Ewell

"What we can learn about Philosophy’s diversity problems by comparing ourselves to Music Theory" by Robin James

“Schenker the Regressive: Observations on the Historical Schenker” by Leon Botstein

I was taught very differently in school btw, when it comes to literary analysis, but it is especially frequent in film studies and music criticism to encounter at some point these problems. It’s a form of gaslighting imo, especially for boys.

It is important to know what kind of people have been constructing the way we judge and criticize art and human expression and why, especially when approaching other cultures, other languages and traditions.

An Arthurian adaptation need not resemble its source when the creator cares about thoughtful storytelling and themes. This transcends medium and genre. I’m not a snob about “accuracy” so much as a stickler for adherence to the respect of one’s audience through sustained narrative quality.

Examples forthcoming.

Camelot 3000 comic is set in the far future. Everyone is reincarnated. Tristan is reborn as a woman, and has to overcome dysphoria and questioning of sexuality in order to properly embrace their new life with Isolde, another woman. Kay explains that he was unruly all those years ago to deflect criticism off of Arthur and direct it at himself, an attempt to subtly aid his brother in maintaining a positive public image. Guinevere is a military commander whose role in the love triangle remains intact aside from the ending. The fellowship of the Round Table are battling aliens while grappling with their new identities and personal journeys. It concludes after Arthur dies, and Guinevere reveals to Lancelot she is pregnant, but doesn’t know by who. He says he will love the baby regardless. So they escape their doomed fate of the medieval source.

Monty Python and The Holy Grail movie (and musical) takes one of Arthurian Legend’s darkest and most tragic stories and retells it as a comedy. Every trope is subverted to an extreme. King Arthur’s supremacy and the conventions of his story are constantly challenged. Serfs question the Divine Right of Kings and “didn’t vote for” Arthur. The Black Knight denies his inevitable defeat, suffering “but a flesh wound,” until he’s nothing more than a torso and a head. French sentries refuse Arthur’s appeals for entry and mock him from the battlement. Meanwhile Galahad endures the Castle of Maidens only through the help of a queer-coded Lancelot (which becomes explicit in the musical when he marries a man). Not only a complete reversal of their medieval roles, but conflict from Guinevere and Elaine is entirely absent (except in the musical which includes a character named Sir Galahad’s Mom). The group then faces the Bridge of Death. Lancelot contrasts his medieval counterpart yet again by answering a simple question and succeeding, OC Robin the Not-Quite-So-Brave-as-Sir-Lancelot fails an absurdly challenging one, followed by Galahad’s failure of another easy one. It ends with Arthur and Bedevere searching for Lancelot, and ultimately results in their arrest by the police.

High Noon Over Camelot is a folk album that retells the story as a dieselpunk western. The three Pendragons—sheriff Arthur, quick-draw Guinevere, and sharpshooter Lancelot—run Camelot as a polyamorous throuple. The love triangle conflict is turned on it’s head which opens the story up for exploration of side characters and their niches. Arthur’s daughter Morgause is not killed by the Ghouls (Saxons) as he thought but instead raised by them, eventually transitioning to Mordred. The Hanged Man, a robot named Merlin, gives three prophecies: Arthur’s son is alive, Gawain’s hatred of the Ghouls is unjust, and Galahad the preacher should sit in the Siege Perilous. Only Galahad heeds the prophecy. Driven mad by the power of the Siege Perilous, he has visions of the space station’s imminent danger, which can only be helped by restarting the GRAIL system on board. So the Pendragons depart with the Grail Knights, leaving behind Mordred and Gawain in charge of Camelot. Mordred tries and fails to pass a peace treaty between Ghouls and Camelot when a fight breaks out and Gawain goes berserk. A hopeless Mordred ends up abandoning his convictions and heads for the space station. He corners the Pendragons as they reach their goal, the Grail Knights having fallen to get them this far. Mordred kills Lancelot and Guinevere, wounds Arthur, then ejects him into space inside a life-pod. Lastly he crashes the station, killing everyone on board and himself.

The Knights of Breton Court is a trilogy by Maurice Broaddus that retells King Arthur’s story in a modern inner city American setting. Street hustler King attempts to reconcile a group of drug dealers, gangbangers, and well-meaning but lost street kids into a uniform front. All kinds of issues arise to comprise his vision, sometimes borne of character flaws within his crew and sometimes otherworldly forces. In some ways, this series could’ve stood to divert even further from the medieval literature that inspired it, as it suffers from the same pitfalls causing modern readers to drop antiquated literature. The meandering plot, inconsistent pacing, and multitude of characters can read nonsensically to someone unaccustomed to the style. The central thread, King [Arthur] and his goal, is sometimes lost. In trusting Broaddus, I think this criticism relates not to his ability as a writer, but can be traced and attributed Le Morte d’Arthur. Regardless, that’s neither here nor there. The point is that The Knights of Breton Court’s shortcomings are unrelated to its divergence from medieval sources. Although it’s not my favorite, it illustrates beautifully how far a novel can stray while keeping itself firmly under the retelling umbrella. The Indianapolis setting and reimagined personas for the knights is it’s greatest strength, but would be fundamentally broken if Broaddus had stripped it of its original essence. They are intrinsically linked. Also Kay is an unfriendly Rottweiler.

These examples offer thought provoking changes while utilizing the framework of existing characters and their established dynamics/traits to subvert or deepen the meaning behind them. For all the differences between the adaptations and their shared source material, it works, because the creators committed to the bit. This isn’t to say all retellings toe that line effectively.

Cursed is a novel and Netflix series written by Tom Wheeler, illustrated by Frank Miller, and produced by them both. Considering the amount of involvement these two had on both the book and series, it’s safe to assume their creative control was absolute, and each of these mediums fully realized their vision for the story. However, regarding Miller and Wheeler as storytellers with a vision implies they are creatives. It assumes a passion for the project, some semblance of personal expression through art, which is unsubstantiated by the artificial depth of significance displayed in Cursed. The series was green lit before the book even published, so that should give you an indication of the true motivations behind this retelling. It wasn’t made for the love of the source material realized through an artist’s unique perspective, but quickly drawn up and produced to capitalize on the joint products as much as possible.

I will spare everyone a long-winded review of this wretched book and show. They fulfill none of the promises made in the back cover blurb and series description. It’s an insult to the audience’s intelligence. But the point is, the Arthurian elements are not integral to the story, but rather recognizable set pieces and props artificially painted on like a brittle veneer. They exist solely to capitalize on what Miller and Wheeler hoped was an existing audience without the need to develop worthwhile story and attract an audience on their own merits. What they’ve done feels not like inspiration or transmutation, but appropriation of something they neither respect nor care to understand. That is the stipulation, for me, to garner enjoyment from a retelling, regardless of how far it strays from the sources it claims aspects from. An artist must comprehend their material, their muse, their emotional connection to the piece in order to properly manipulate and utilize it. Miller and Wheeler are not artists and their lake is a puddle.

Okay, so, continuing our discussion from ao3 comments re: Domestic Dystopia as a genre-

Mel and I compiled an incomplete list of examples from books that we had read (literally I just stared at my library for like 10 minutes this morning waiting for it to revel the secrets of the universe) and this is what we have so far:

Never Let Me Go

Nona The Ninth

House of the Scorpion- have not read this since I was 12, but I remember this being the vibe

Number the Stars- this is a holocaust book, so like, real world dystopia, and I have not read it since middle school as well, but I remember major DD vibes and liking it for this reason

The Book Thief- another WW2 book, this one is also different because of all the POVs and an omniscient narrator, but still very much counts to me. Once again I am faced with the fact that genre eludes strict definition and comes down to mostly vibes!

Avatar the Last Airbender

Maybes:

The Giver?- I think it’s been too long since I’ve read it to make a fair assessment, technically it should fit into this category but I just don’t think it does?

Enders Game?- borderline to me because all the kids in this are little prodigy geniuses and while they are still kids idk if it messes up the DD schtick. But I do feel like parts of this book give me a similar feeling to others on the list.

That’s what I’ve got so far, I’m obsessed with this concept and still feel like I’m missing an obvious example, idk, maybe it will come to me later!

Anyway, dying to know your thoughts.

Ohhhh, this is so, so good. Literally bless you and Mel.

For context to everyone else: wrt the Tedromeda prequel, we were theorizing a potential subgenre with the working title Domestic Dystopia. Pulling some choice quotes from the commentary, though the time has probably come to synthesize this into something more cohesive:

A child’s perspective is so effective as a means of exploring dystopia in a way that doesn’t feel contrived.

[...C]hildren growing up in what they consider to just be normal circumstances.... Because kids just tell it like it is. Or at least, they tell the facts as they understand them and an older reader can generally parse the subtext.

[...S]tories that introduce us to really dark world building and very adult topics like War and Death through the eyes of children... the twisty feeling when the dystopia starts to feel almost cozy and lived-in.

Given the above, I want to suggest that a central tenet of this subgenre is that through a child's perspective, the reader is actively learning the rules of the dystopia and how it's built.

I've read/seen/am at least familiar with most of the titles you've mentioned, and I think you're both bang on the money. (Unfamiliar with Enders Game and House of the Scorpion, but input from followers?) In addition, I'd like to suggest:

Noughts & Crosses - Malorie Blackman

Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler

The Broken Earth Trilogy - NK Jemisin

His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (ymmv on how much this actually qualifies as dystopia but given the Magisterium's reach I think there's an argument here)

Outlawed - Anna North

Everyone, please feel free to add.

Berserk and Liminality

I think part of why I'm so okay with the final Miura chapter being the "final" chapter of Berserk (to me) is because it preserves the themes of liminality present both in the literal text, and in the meta-context of reading longform, serialized fiction. (Spoilers ahead) As Branded, Guts and Casca are described as living within the interstice between worlds. They exist in the very literal liminal space between the world of humans and the world of monsters and demons. They are trapped between the two, in a place that is supposed to be transitory. Guts particularly as The Struggler spends the bulk of the story *in transit,* as the brand prevents him from ever returning to his previous state or moving on to something else. The Eclipse is supposed to be a temporary, transitory state between humanity and demonhood for the bearer of the Behelit, and during that liminal period all who are not slated to transition into demonhood, are meant to die. By surviving as branded, Guts and Casca are perpetually trapped in this liminal space, referred to in fiction as the "interstice". As an audience, we ourselves reading Berserk also exist in a liminal state of sorts. We are in transition between having begun the series and having finished it. Depending on the schedule and any hiatuses, this liminal state created by reading manga can be comforting, like being in a hotel, or unsettling, like anxiously waiting for a kettle to boil. The time between chapters of Chainsaw Man is like being in a hotel. I know it to be temporary, and there's a scheduled date for my time in that transitory state to end. The time between Berserk chapters on the boat to Elfheim felt like waiting for water to boil. I don't know how long it takes water to boil! But it's going to boil eventually right? Right?! And I can't look at the site I read the scans on because the old adage says that that's going to make it take longer. Like many others, I spent more than 8 years watching that pot, waiting for it to boil. And that's not to complain, or to say that that time was wasted, that I didn't appreciate those chapters, those tiny bubbles and near-imperceptible wisps of steam, but to emphasize that feeling of liminality. My experience with Berserk has always been liminal. It started before I knew what manga was, before I was born even. I spent 15 years of my life reading, anxiously awaiting the next chapter, and as time went on and hiatuses became more frequent, worrying about Miura's health. And so when fans were upset that Miura's final chapter didn't wrap up the story in a nice bow, I understood, but I couldn't relate. Liminal stories shouldn't have closure, because then they cease to be liminal. There are other reasons I am satisfied with Miura's ending, reasons that have to do with my own trauma and the way that informs my relationship with Guts, Casca, and the very idea of closure, but I think this reading on liminality is one that might make sense to a lot of people. I think this also explains why I felt so many feelings of frustration towards the larger western Berserk fandom, which was largely adamant that more chapters be published in pursuit of a "better ending." Because why would you want such a liminal story to cease being liminal?

Just stumbled that post of yours. I immediately thought about the acceptable vs unacceptable villain talk with the bigger usian comics. The wording you used is simple and effective. Tasteful evils. Murder and torture is okay and at times get downplayed. But villains also being racist/misogynistic/etc puts them on a different level? A couple years back some wondered why Ridley chose to have Deathstroke still be written as a predator, but why not. This character is awful, the man kills people for money. Though that threshold might be different for villainous women, people do say things like “this lady wouldn’t kill ______” Be it children, other women, mentally ill people.

Ahhh, thanks for the ask! This is the post for anyone who's wondering.

While I understand the protection of marginalized groups is, of course, naturally paramount in every aspect of life, I do not believe this applies to a text. Because the text is not life, is not an aspect of life. The literary text exists, or can exist, as something exclusive to life unless it serves as a mirror. And if you're writing a book where the framework states that your protagonist is a generally shitty person, then your protagonist should be afforded the capacity to be a shitty person. And being shitty often involves racism, because racism reflects the reality of the human experience.

Maybe this says something about the author, but maybe it says absolutely nothing about the author at the end of the day. We cannot censor our depiction of reality or its evils in literary fiction because of sensibilities or because we are assuming its a reflection of the writer as a real person. All that does is show a categorically lacking reading of a text.