Beer Steins and Frauleins: THIS Sunday, Sept 21

Just thinking about the reading this Sunday is getting my dirndl in a twist! If you've somehow missed the buzz, consider yourself invited. Fringe is teaming up with other local presses as The Dirty Water Reading Series, to present "Beer Steins and Frauleins: A Dirty Water Readingtoberfest", an Octoberfest-themed reading at the Grub Street Headquarters on Sunday, September 21. The reading will feature authors Rauan Klassnik, Amy L. Clark, Aimee Pokwatka, and Fringe contributor Francine Rubin, whose work appears in the current issue of Fringe.

For this particular reading, Fringe is in charge of decorations. How fun is that? Does anyone have any suggestions or ideas of how we can decorate the Grub Street space? Anyone have a dirndl or some lederhosen, maybe a few beer steins lying around, waiting for a chance to shine?

EVENT DETAILS
Beer Steins and Frauleins: A Dirty Water Readingtoberfest
FREE ADMISSION (free beer and free food too!)
Sunday, September 21
7:00 p.m.
Grub Street, 160 Boylston, Boston

Deporting the Bereaved

I just wrote a letter to my congress representative for the first time. What drove me to such action? The "Widow Penalty” was what did it. Yes, such a thing exists and is being enforced all over the country.

The Widow Penalty was brought to my attention by a friend whose brother died after being married for just under two years. In addition to the sudden heartache of losing her husband, his wife is now in danger of being deported because she was not scheduled for a green card before her second wedding anniversary. Her American-born son, however, can remain on American soil.

This is not a poorly written script of a made-for-TV movie—this is the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Service at work. Because of this obscure loophole in legislation, the courts are expending much time and energy to deport law-abiding, tax-paying women and men who have lost their spouses because the administrative process of obtaining a visa took too long.

Please visit the website for Surviving Spouses Against Deportation and call or send a letter to your congress representative (it takes less than 90 seconds). If you still can’t believe this is for real, or if you’d just like to learn more about it, there is a great This American Life interview with my friend’s sister-in-law. And 60 Minutes will be airing the story in the fall.

Stuff White People Like to Like

I recently came across the blog Stuff White People Like. Since its launch in January of this year, it has received over 18 million hits and 4,000 comments. The blog reads like a satirical handbook on how to understand white people by examining what they like.

At first I had to laugh that the first season of Arrested Development (#38) is in my DVD player, I recently received an invitation to an 80s party (#29), and I just made plans to meet a friend this weekend at our favorite breakfast place (#36).

As I thought more about the list, I noticed that it really only describes a particular brand of white people (seen every day here in Cambridge). One commenter agreed that the list is more “a qualitative outline of the young, faux-activist, indie-lifestyle, suburban white person, than of the caucasian race itself,” and it is more of a description of “an emerging pop culture stereotype than a racial one.” One of the posts even clarifies that white people don't like “white people who vote Republican.” Obviously not all white people can identify with this list, but it's a pretty accurate list for those who do.

With a satirical tone and focus on describing a cultural stereotype rather than an ethnic group, can this blog be considered racist? Since Fringe’s latest issue is “Ethnos” themed, my awareness (#18) of racial issues was piqued. I couldn’t decide whether the blog was racist, funny, or ironic (#50).

What do Fringe readers think of this blog? Is it the “White Chris Rock”? It’s a nice wake-up call for me, to re-examine the things I like and make sure I like them because I like them, not because of how cool (or lame) they make me look to everyone else.

High heels, high expectations

A friend told me the other day that because her boyfriend is her same height, she doesn’t like to wear high heels so that she doesn’t look taller than he. I think this is a fairly common sentiment, but it got me thinking. If we’re restricting what we wear because of a man, what other areas of our lives are we inhibiting because of what people will think of us?

I noticed this happening just the other day, while hanging out with 3 of my male friends. I could feel inhibitions settling in, and though I scolded myself for allowing these guys, merely by their presence, to have so much control over what I said, I still found myself sitting quietly, laughing politely at things that weren’t particularly funny to me. I noticed that I was restraining myself from saying anything that wasn’t clever, witty, or otherwise profound, as if I were representing all of womankind.

This is not a healthy environment if a woman is to be free to be herself. If we keep acting like we’re expected to, nothing will change. Women will continue to sit quietly, laughing politely at misogynistic comments, choosing flats to make a man feel more masculine. It takes courage to act unexpectedly, to risk ridicule or judgment. It takes courage, but courage we’ve got.

So wear those high heels. Speak your mind. Don’t laugh if you don’t think it’s funny. Instead of portraying to the world the role of a predictable woman, why not dazzle them with your unexpected inner beauty? You might surprise yourself.

A Dysfunctional Family Holiday

Fringe is once again teaming up with Redivider, Black Ocean, and Quick Fiction to host the Dirty Water Reading Series' 2nd Annual Dysfunctional Family Holiday.

There will be holiday-themed mad-libs and short readings by Fringe contributor Steve Himmer, as well as Sommer Browning, Stace Budzko, and Tao Lin.

Oh, and there will also be free food, spiked egg nog, and a KEG. Yes, that means FREE beer. Just in time for the [guilt-ridden, drama-charged] holidays ahead!

Details:

Sunday, December 16

7-9pm

Grub Street 160 Boylston, 4th Floor, Boston MA

FREE Admission, food, beer

Wishing you drama-free holiday!

12/16 Note: Unfortunately, the reading has been canceled due to extreme Boston weather!

Breaking the Sequence

Has this ever happened to you: You come across a passage or line in a book and think it brilliant, and are thrilled that you’re the first one to discover it, only to find that people have been talking and writing about that exact thing for years?

Much later than I should have, I read A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf, and it happened to me. There’s a section in this amazing essay in which Virginia (Can I call her Virginia? I think she wouldn't mind) decides to evaluate a recent novel written by a woman named Mary Carmichael. She expects it to be sentimental and sappy, as most novels written by women at the time tended to be. But instead of long, flowing sentences, she found that Mary used short, abrupt ones, almost as if Mary were intentionally trying to avoid sounding sappy.

As she read further along, Virginia noticed that the plot, though set up to be a typical love story, turned out to be a story of the friendship and scientific careers of two women. Such subject matter was rather shocking in that day, as women typically were featured in novels as in relationship to men, not as characters interacting with each other. Virginia recognizes that Mary Carmichael first “broke the sentence; now she has broken the sequence.” Although the novel was not the best-written piece of literature ever penned, it still carried significant notability in Virginia’s estimation as it did something vitally important: it broke the pattern that women were confined to write certain types of sentences about certain types of subject matter.

I was truly amazed by this whole idea and overjoyed that I discovered such a thing. To my chagrin, as I related this finding to my friend, she said, “Oh yes, you should read this book of criticism about that; it’s right over there on my bookshelf.” Indeed it was, and the title was none other than Breaking the Sequence. Oh well, it still felt like a revelation to me.

And although I wasn’t the first to discover Virginia’s brilliance in discovering Mary Carmichael’s brilliance, I still feel like I’m part of the, well, sequence, of women discovering and building upon each other’s ideas. Isn’t that always the job of the artist? To recognize the sequence, the patterns and traditions, and break out of them into something new, undiscovered, significant? As long as, Virginia says, we do them “not for the sake of breaking, but for the sake of creating.”

Congratulations Doris Lessing!

Today Doris Lessing is the winner of the 2007 Nobel Prize in Literature. She’s the 11th woman to win this distinguished honor. Her extensive writing has confronted social issues such as feminism, race, and communism, yet her sophisticated literary style keeps her from being confined to a political writer. I’ve only read one of her many novels, The Summer Before the Dark, and was captivated by the main character's journey at a crucial point in her life to discover her true identity while old age lies waiting in the 'dark' future. Ms. Lessing’s first novel The Golden Notebook is next on my list to read: its historical impact on the feminist movement in the 60s is still important today.

So here’s a Fringe toast to this outstanding writer. We are thrilled that her literary achievements have been recognized and rewarded.

Keggers and CliffsNotes: Passed the test!

Keggers and CliffsNotes was the best college party, ever. Maybe it was the keg, maybe it was the pizza, maybe it was the 4 awesome readers that made the night, well, magical.

After some boozing and schmoozing to the college-band soundtrack in the background, a crowd of about 50 people settled down to hear Amy L. Clark read 3 short shorts, one of which was brand new. Then her true skills as reader were put to the test as she read a CliffsNotes version of 'The Scarlet Letter' with mad-libbed words thrown in from the rather creative audience. Brian Foley, Urban Waite, and Janaka Stucky continued the pattern, each reading compelling literature, followed by audience-enhanced renditions of 'Paradise Lost,' 'The Odyssey,' and 'Moby Dick' ("Discover this American classic of Captain Mr. T on his maniacal search for the emu Schmoopy Dick who took his leg...").

It was the 3rd reading of the series, but the first under the new official name: Dirty Water Reading Series. We love that dirty water, love great literature, love that fizzy beer. The next reading will be December 16 at Grub Street...write it down! You won't want to miss it.

Keggers and CliffsNotes: A (Mercifully Short) Reading

THIS Sunday, September 23, (after the Race for the Cure) the Dirty Water Reading Series will present Keggers and CliffsNotes, a (free!) reading at Grub Street in Boston.

Readers on tap: Amy L. Clark (published in Fringe's feminism issue), Beth Woodcome, Brian Foley, and Janaka Stucky. What better way to kick off the school year than a college dorm party at Grub Street?

This is the third installment of our seasonal reading series, co-hosted with Redivider, Quick Fiction, and Black Ocean. Just like readings past, we will have (mercifully short) readings, audience-participation mad-libs, and of course, FREE pizza and beer (yes, there will be a keg!).

So if you'll be in the Boston area, come and reminisce those college days of scantrons and keg stands. And if you can't make it, we'll raise a plastic cup of fizzy beer in your honor.

DETAILS: Sunday, September 23, Grub Street HQ, 160 Boylston, 4th Floor, 7-9pm

The Kite Runner: A Review by Janell Sims

This is the ninth of a many-part series written by the staff and editors of Fringe Magazine, who will be reviewing books from the Pool as part of the 25 Books Project.

I know what you’re thinking: Please oh please, not another schmaltzy review of this over-popular book. I know, I hate popular books. Instant bestsellers instantly fall to the bottom of my reading list. But with this one, curiosity and a friend’s desperate pleas got the better of me. I stealthily read The Kite Runner on a plane ride to Dallas, where I was sure no one would see it in my hands.

You know the story: Amir grows up in Afghanistan with his father Baba and their servants Ali and his son Hassan. Baba and Amir leave for America in the 80s, then Amir returns in 2001 to redeem himself for the unforgivable act he allowed to happen to Hassan during their childhood. Conveniently he runs into the same cast of characters in Afghanistan that he left behind 20 years before.

The story is unrealistic. The plot is contrived. Hassan’s character is uncomfortably close to perfect. So why am I promoting this novel as one of this quarter-century’s best?

The inherent flaws work to the novel’s advantage as an allegory: to paint a more vivid picture of forgiveness than what can be accomplished when hurdling real-life obstacles. As a best-selling novel, The Kite Runner is a good read with interesting insight into a culture most Americans have never conceptualized. But what makes this book stand out among other cross-cultural novels is its allegorical depiction of the depths of redemption. It refuses to mimic life and so is free to depict these larger themes in their purity.

And despite the contrived plot, I found the writing particularly balanced and interesting. Amir finds forgiveness comes “not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night” (359).

So if you read The Kite Runner and only saw the surface story, whether you were gripped by it or apathetic, I would challenge you to read it on a deeper level and experience the complexity of redemption that transcends character and plot.

Janell Sims is the Publicity Director for Fringe Magazine.

Confessions of a Girly Girl

I didn’t own a pair of jeans until fifth grade. But I had dresses aplenty. Dresses, lacy socks, even dolls with matching outfits. Maybe because when shopping with my Virginia-born grandmother, harsh denim fabric never seemed to catch her stylistic eye. That, and when placed next to my frilly wardrobe, jeans just seemed vulgar.

All of my friends wore jeans all the time. I was the only skirt-clad girl at my fifth birthday party at McDonald’s. As if sliding down the staticky plastic slide into a pile of sun-baked mulch weren’t tragic enough.

I would complain to my mom that I wanted to dress like the other girls—wear t-shirts, jeans, socks without lace, shoes without bows-on-the-toes. I hated being the only girl at a slumber party in a frilly nightgown while everyone else was in t-shirts and boxers.

But when I got my wish in those hellish teenage years, and pulled on the brand-regulated pair of stonewashed jeans, it was like a part of me was hiding. I finally looked like everyone else, but I still felt estranged.

This was the dawning of my love affair with fashion. Instead of copying what my friends wore, I decided to wear what I liked and thought looked nice. I began to see style as a unique language—a way to express my femininity, something my friends didn’t think was cool. I no longer had to hide my feminine taste; I could embrace it. Being a girly-girl was empowering.

I think that one of the many misconceptions of feminism is that appearance is essentially unimportant and that society’s excessive attention to it oppresses women. There certainly is a danger in placing too much importance on physical appearance; it often leaks into your source of self-worth. When the intrinsic value of a woman or a man is based upon appearance, there is the indication of a deeply rooted, unhealthy worldview.

But I like to go shopping. I enjoy wearing ‘outfits.’ I’m one who feels naked without earrings (and let’s face it, a necklace and bracelet also). So for me, being a girly-girl is part of who I am as a feminist: it’s simply an expression of myself, of what I like. It can even be my way of showing my friend that I’m thrilled to be meeting her for lunch—by putting some effort into my appearance, I’m showing her I respect her and the time we spend together.

And being a girly-girl doesn’t mean you have to sell out to materialism and support slave labor. But that’s another blog…

Collage of Power or Porn?

The Museum of Contemporary Art in LA is featuring an exhibit entitled “WACK! Art and the Feminist Revolution.” The cover of the catalogue for the exhibition, co-published by MIT Press, features a collage by the feminist artist Martha Rosler.

The cover is a collage of photos of nude women taken from various advertisements in men’s magazines. The cover has caused quite a stir—feminists can’t seem to agree on whether the art is degrading or empowering. The women in the photos are in sensual poses, smiling, enticing the viewer. Lorraine Wild, the cover designer, noted that each of these women in a photo by herself was meant to be the object of male desire. But grouped together, the cluster of women seem to be the audience, the viewers instead of the object being viewed. Their smiles that individually express playfulness and invitation, when grouped together, signal mockery, playing with the viewer’s desire.

When I first saw the cover, I found it disturbing, and my first impulse was to shudder at the "carnage," as a commenter on the MoCA blog described. It seemed exploitative. On second glance, it almost seemed too heavy-handed, like the artist was exploiting her own status as a feminist and using it to produce controversial art at the expense of the integrity of the women photographed.

I appreciate the creativity and controversy the art has provoked. I like the discussion taking place among feminists in the art world. I do wish the art didn’t so flagrantly expose so many women, who have already been smeared across the pornographic page. But I am conscious and appreciative of the almost sarcastic tone of the piece—forcing the viewer to redefine what is beautiful, what is enticing. Instead of presenting the models as victims to be pitied, the artist re-contextualizes the purpose for their poses and provides a community of empowerment.

It makes me think that there is more to art than what is seen. The motive of the artist can play a significant role in the interpretation of the art. It doesn’t have to—you can look at this collage and just see naked women. Or you can think about Ms. Rosler, cutting out each image, pasting them all together to show her viewers something that couldn’t be expressed with words. I think that this piece is not meant to be quietly observed. What do you see?