Hollyhock of Flourish
Sep. 21st, 2017 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoThe Sparrowhawk had to get up early this morning to go and work on a public service project in a nearby town. So, considerate person that I am, I made sure we went to bed early. And then I woke up shortly after midnight, lay around trying to go back to sleep, and finally gave up and went downstairs, where I was up for several hours. My brain had just flipped itself over to NOT SLEEPING mode. I went back to bed at four-ish and slept late. My Fitbit thinks I slept for 6 hours, but it was in discrete segments, so not the most restful.
The high today was NINETY FIVE degrees. That is the hottest day of the entire summer, and it's quite odd for the day before the fall equinox! This weather will continue for several more days. By the time I was up (again) it was far too hot to go for a walk, even in the shady part of the woods. I had to go to the dread mall to walk. I swear, there was an old lady bent over her walker who was moving along at a fast clip, and at one point, she was going faster than me! Oh, the indignity. I managed to pass her just outside the pretzel kiosk, where she ran into a friend and slowed down.
During my midnight episode, I read some more Kim Stanley Robinson. I was part of the way through "Sixty Days and Counting," the last of the Science in the Capital trilogy, and then I got distracted and didn't finish it, so I'm working on it now. If I ever write about these books, there will have to be an entire section hashtagged "Oh Frank Vanderwal NO." This character is really irritating me with his relentless evaluation of every single woman he comes in contact with. He's not as much of a feminist as he believes himself to be, either. For instance, at the gym: " . . . sweaty pink faces, hard breathing; obviously this was sexy stuff. None of that bedroom silliness for Frank--lingerie, make-up, even dancing--all that was much too intentional and choreographed, even somehow confrontational. Lovelier by far were women unselfconsciously exerting themselves in some physical way." Yes, Frank, that's nice of you to find us acceptable for your viewing pleasure at the gym. But has it not occurred to you that there's an inherent contradiction here? How are we supposed to remain "unselfconscious," the way you like us, when we are aware that there's always going to be someone like you watching us? You can't be unselfconscious when you're under surveillance. It's especially perplexing, because it turns out that Frank himself is under surveillance, and he doesn't like it. I wish I could believe that the author did that on purpose to comment on Frank's complacent male gaze, and how he's kind of an asshole. But I don't think Frank's creator noticed that. These are the thoughts I have in the middle of the night.
The high today was NINETY FIVE degrees. That is the hottest day of the entire summer, and it's quite odd for the day before the fall equinox! This weather will continue for several more days. By the time I was up (again) it was far too hot to go for a walk, even in the shady part of the woods. I had to go to the dread mall to walk. I swear, there was an old lady bent over her walker who was moving along at a fast clip, and at one point, she was going faster than me! Oh, the indignity. I managed to pass her just outside the pretzel kiosk, where she ran into a friend and slowed down.
During my midnight episode, I read some more Kim Stanley Robinson. I was part of the way through "Sixty Days and Counting," the last of the Science in the Capital trilogy, and then I got distracted and didn't finish it, so I'm working on it now. If I ever write about these books, there will have to be an entire section hashtagged "Oh Frank Vanderwal NO." This character is really irritating me with his relentless evaluation of every single woman he comes in contact with. He's not as much of a feminist as he believes himself to be, either. For instance, at the gym: " . . . sweaty pink faces, hard breathing; obviously this was sexy stuff. None of that bedroom silliness for Frank--lingerie, make-up, even dancing--all that was much too intentional and choreographed, even somehow confrontational. Lovelier by far were women unselfconsciously exerting themselves in some physical way." Yes, Frank, that's nice of you to find us acceptable for your viewing pleasure at the gym. But has it not occurred to you that there's an inherent contradiction here? How are we supposed to remain "unselfconscious," the way you like us, when we are aware that there's always going to be someone like you watching us? You can't be unselfconscious when you're under surveillance. It's especially perplexing, because it turns out that Frank himself is under surveillance, and he doesn't like it. I wish I could believe that the author did that on purpose to comment on Frank's complacent male gaze, and how he's kind of an asshole. But I don't think Frank's creator noticed that. These are the thoughts I have in the middle of the night.
