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jadedmusingsSo, Sam's been trying to get me to read this series by S. M. Stirling and so he handed me the first book in the series called Dies the Fire last night.
On page three I found myself immediately hating a main character. By page six, I handed the book back and said, "Nope, not my thing."
First of all, the concept is intriguing and presented rather well. There's this "event" that happens and causes The Change all over the planet where suddenly everything on the planet that uses electricity, batteries, or fire to operate, stops working. Combustion engines no longer function, battery powered devices might as well be paperweights, etc. Pretty much the entire world is thrust into the dark ages in the span of less than a minute.
Like I said, it seems really interesting, but I can't get past two things.
The first being, as I said, on page three when one of the main characters, Mike Havel, looks at an eighteen year-old girl (the oldest daughter of the client whose family he's flying to some winter home or vacation spot) and immediately thinks, "Man do I envy those hip-hugger jeans," and then, Twenty-eight isn't that old."
I stopped there and told Sam I hated him already. Sam, of course, goes, "But he's a man, a former military man so he's going to notice she's attractive."
Fine. There are all sorts of ways of saying a woman is beautiful without coming across as a pervert. The idea that the first thing this man thinks upon seeing this woman is sexual creeps me right out. It would have been easy to convey attractiveness without the innuendo. That sort of thinking is threatening, and if this were reality and an eighteen year-old noticed a man -- no matter if he was 28 or 88 -- leering at her, she wouldn't feel flattered or attractive, she'd feel frightened, icky, and creeped the fuck out. [And now I shall patiently await the chorus of women eager to jump in and say, "Oh, but I would feel flattered." Goody for you. I don't, and I know plenty of other women who don't either. Also, any woman is perfectly within her right to think of any man as a potential threat to her. Read Schrödinger's Rapist to understand why.]
Also, yes, twenty-eight compared to eighteen is "that old." I don't care if she's eighteen and therefore a legal adult so it's TOTES LEGAL TO FUCK HER. No. She's eighteen, about to graduate high school/barely out of high school, has not lived on her own, and pretty much lacks anything in the way of world experience. He's twenty-eight, has been in the military, and has so much more experience and wisdom to make adult decisions she hasn't learned yet. I wouldn't be flipping my shit if she was, say, 25 and he 35, or 30 and 40, but that's because, as I said, in my mind there's a word of difference between still transitioning into adulthood and being an adult. Almost-thirty year-old me is worlds wiser and better able to navigate a sexual relationship than I was at eighteen. I know sometimes love doesn't care about age, but there is this underlying creepiness to an older man wanting to "teach" an inexperienced woman how to really please a man and not, you know, helping her learn about herself and what makes her tick. [Once more, I know not all relationships with age gaps like that are abusive and/or creepy. However, I can't ignore this trope of older men taking younger women by the hand.]
Of course, as far as I know, Mike never starts a relationship with this woman, which makes it better, but I still couldn't get passed my first impressions of Mike as a creep.
Yes, my delicate feminist sensibilities hate this dude right from the get-go because I got the impression the author wanted me to think he's a man's man, even though I already know he's ex-Marine, served in Desert Storm, and, just in case I was in doubt, he's a hunter who uses a Remington 700 rifle (the "civilised version of a Marine Sniper rifle.Nope, that's not overkill for hunting deer at all. Nope, no siree. Never mind my ex-Marine outdoorsman father would have said otherwise.). Furthermore, the only thing I know about this woman so far is that's she's hot. That's it. I know her younger sister is a Tolkein fan to the point that she carries around a bow and a quiver. I know the mother is from the cream of the crop in Boston society, and I know the father is a pretty all right man who is just trying to figure out how to be happy in life.
The second thing that bothered me was the other main character we meet in chapter two, Juniper. It's a shame because from talking with Sam about the series I knew Juniper is Wiccan High Priestess who sets up her own little society. I had high hopes that were quickly dashed. Juniper is introduced to us and she's a caricature of what Stirling must think all pagans are like. In the span of two or three pages she utters "Great Goddess" and other similiar oaths just about every other sentence in place of "Good god" or "Goddamn." Sure, I've been known to say "By the gods," or "Oh goddess," in my day, but I don't say it constantly, and I can't tell if I'm supposed to take Juniper seriously because of it. I know in real life if I heard a pagan speaking like that, I'd start backing away slowly lest I get trampled by white fluffy bunnies. Maybe she is this strong character, but right away I got the impression that her religion/spirituality might not be treated so well by the book.
(Also, should I one day happen to look out a window and see that a 747 has crash landed right in the middle of my tiny little town, I don't think my first reaction will be to draw a pentagram in the air and utter an oath with the phrase "Goddess" or "Great Horned God." I think I, like most pagans I've known in my time, including the Gardnerian high priestess, would say, "HOLY FUCK A PLANE CRASH!" and run to get help while then invoking gods in silent prayer while I got my ass in gear.)
Given how pagans/neo-pagans are so well represented in mainstream media and treated with respect and seriousness (See that? It's called sarcasm.), and the way that Juniper came across in just one or two pages made me put the book down because I lacked any confidence that it would be handled well.
It sucks because I know Sam loves the series and generally our tastes run similar (we've both managed to get each other turned on to different television series, books, and movies the other hadn't heard of), but I really can't seem myself taking much about this book seriously even if the writing and the premise seem pretty awesome.
And yes, I realize most of you will say I'm being silly and unreasonable, that I didn't give the book enough of a chance, but I will point out that it's a matter of personal taste and while other people might find this book and its sequels amazing, I couldn't. I also can't stand rye bread, think Pulp Fiction is somewhat overrated, and while I think they made some pretty great music, I don't quite get why the Beatles are as popular as they are. (I better hope Sam's dad never reads that.)
On page three I found myself immediately hating a main character. By page six, I handed the book back and said, "Nope, not my thing."
First of all, the concept is intriguing and presented rather well. There's this "event" that happens and causes The Change all over the planet where suddenly everything on the planet that uses electricity, batteries, or fire to operate, stops working. Combustion engines no longer function, battery powered devices might as well be paperweights, etc. Pretty much the entire world is thrust into the dark ages in the span of less than a minute.
Like I said, it seems really interesting, but I can't get past two things.
The first being, as I said, on page three when one of the main characters, Mike Havel, looks at an eighteen year-old girl (the oldest daughter of the client whose family he's flying to some winter home or vacation spot) and immediately thinks, "Man do I envy those hip-hugger jeans," and then, Twenty-eight isn't that old."
I stopped there and told Sam I hated him already. Sam, of course, goes, "But he's a man, a former military man so he's going to notice she's attractive."
Fine. There are all sorts of ways of saying a woman is beautiful without coming across as a pervert. The idea that the first thing this man thinks upon seeing this woman is sexual creeps me right out. It would have been easy to convey attractiveness without the innuendo. That sort of thinking is threatening, and if this were reality and an eighteen year-old noticed a man -- no matter if he was 28 or 88 -- leering at her, she wouldn't feel flattered or attractive, she'd feel frightened, icky, and creeped the fuck out. [And now I shall patiently await the chorus of women eager to jump in and say, "Oh, but I would feel flattered." Goody for you. I don't, and I know plenty of other women who don't either. Also, any woman is perfectly within her right to think of any man as a potential threat to her. Read Schrödinger's Rapist to understand why.]
Also, yes, twenty-eight compared to eighteen is "that old." I don't care if she's eighteen and therefore a legal adult so it's TOTES LEGAL TO FUCK HER. No. She's eighteen, about to graduate high school/barely out of high school, has not lived on her own, and pretty much lacks anything in the way of world experience. He's twenty-eight, has been in the military, and has so much more experience and wisdom to make adult decisions she hasn't learned yet. I wouldn't be flipping my shit if she was, say, 25 and he 35, or 30 and 40, but that's because, as I said, in my mind there's a word of difference between still transitioning into adulthood and being an adult. Almost-thirty year-old me is worlds wiser and better able to navigate a sexual relationship than I was at eighteen. I know sometimes love doesn't care about age, but there is this underlying creepiness to an older man wanting to "teach" an inexperienced woman how to really please a man and not, you know, helping her learn about herself and what makes her tick. [Once more, I know not all relationships with age gaps like that are abusive and/or creepy. However, I can't ignore this trope of older men taking younger women by the hand.]
Of course, as far as I know, Mike never starts a relationship with this woman, which makes it better, but I still couldn't get passed my first impressions of Mike as a creep.
Yes, my delicate feminist sensibilities hate this dude right from the get-go because I got the impression the author wanted me to think he's a man's man, even though I already know he's ex-Marine, served in Desert Storm, and, just in case I was in doubt, he's a hunter who uses a Remington 700 rifle (the "civilised version of a Marine Sniper rifle.
The second thing that bothered me was the other main character we meet in chapter two, Juniper. It's a shame because from talking with Sam about the series I knew Juniper is Wiccan High Priestess who sets up her own little society. I had high hopes that were quickly dashed. Juniper is introduced to us and she's a caricature of what Stirling must think all pagans are like. In the span of two or three pages she utters "Great Goddess" and other similiar oaths just about every other sentence in place of "Good god" or "Goddamn." Sure, I've been known to say "By the gods," or "Oh goddess," in my day, but I don't say it constantly, and I can't tell if I'm supposed to take Juniper seriously because of it. I know in real life if I heard a pagan speaking like that, I'd start backing away slowly lest I get trampled by white fluffy bunnies. Maybe she is this strong character, but right away I got the impression that her religion/spirituality might not be treated so well by the book.
(Also, should I one day happen to look out a window and see that a 747 has crash landed right in the middle of my tiny little town, I don't think my first reaction will be to draw a pentagram in the air and utter an oath with the phrase "Goddess" or "Great Horned God." I think I, like most pagans I've known in my time, including the Gardnerian high priestess, would say, "HOLY FUCK A PLANE CRASH!" and run to get help while then invoking gods in silent prayer while I got my ass in gear.)
Given how pagans/neo-pagans are so well represented in mainstream media and treated with respect and seriousness (See that? It's called sarcasm.), and the way that Juniper came across in just one or two pages made me put the book down because I lacked any confidence that it would be handled well.
It sucks because I know Sam loves the series and generally our tastes run similar (we've both managed to get each other turned on to different television series, books, and movies the other hadn't heard of), but I really can't seem myself taking much about this book seriously even if the writing and the premise seem pretty awesome.
And yes, I realize most of you will say I'm being silly and unreasonable, that I didn't give the book enough of a chance, but I will point out that it's a matter of personal taste and while other people might find this book and its sequels amazing, I couldn't. I also can't stand rye bread, think Pulp Fiction is somewhat overrated, and while I think they made some pretty great music, I don't quite get why the Beatles are as popular as they are. (I better hope Sam's dad never reads that.)
