To begin, I’ll admit I’m not an Amanda Palmer fan. I’m a huge Neil Gaiman fan, and knowing that he’s married to her made me wonder about Palmer. I mean, if you’re married to a guy like Neil Gaiman I’ve heard some of Amanda’s songs, and liked them. I may even go to one of her concerts in the opportunity arises, but I won’t be desperate for tickets.

Having said that, what caught my attention to this book was its subtitle: “How I learned to stop worrying and let people help.” I’m a worrier and I’m really bad at asking for help. Like… I might be drowning and I won’t ask for help. Or you can ask my senior thesis guide. He barely saw my work before I turned up the final version.

Palmer’s promise sounded good.

I can’t help but admiring Palmer and her world view. I really wished I shared her positivity about the world and the people in it. It’s incredible that she’s able to see it in such a pretty sight. Maybe it’s because she chose not to share the bad parts, or very little of them (there are a few awkward moments, but she seems to take them all in her stride, which earns her bonus points). She’s able to see the good in everyone, which maybe is an answer to her positive attitude.

I’m aware of a lot of her problematic attitudes. I’ll not defend her about that, but I’ll say that she’s human and has the right to make mistakes. She should ask for forgiveness after that, which is something I don’t really see here. Especially about the issue with the musicians in her tour.

On the other hand, I really liked her stance about art and artists (check her TEDtalk!). She says artists should be paid for their work. So that’s why the issue with the musicians in her tour, because she invited them on stage and didn’t pay them. Yes, it sounds a little hypocritical on her side, considering how she states that artists have the right to be paid for their hard work. She did end up paying them, though. So, I won’t hold it against her.

Anyway, I enjoyed this book a lot. She’s a good writer and the story she tells is important and we need to hear it. We are so often hearing that Art is irrelevant and how artists are basically lazy people who don’t do anything. But it is important. It is food for the soul; it speaks to us in a level that nothing else can reach. And Amanda Palmer makes her point really clear: WE NEED ART. And artists need living, so it follows that we must pay them. And I like that Amanda doesn’t limit it to mainstream “art industry”. She supports torrenting, downloading, and so on. And she’s into direct communication between artists and fans, which is really cool. I’d say everyone should give it a read, even if it’s just to see her ideas on the topic.

The title of this caught my attention at once. Why would anyone say that they’re bad feminists? It didn’t make much sense, but a lot of people were talking about it and I decided to give it a chance. Her title was bold and provocative (I like those things) and the content was in perfect agreement with it.

I enjoyed the essays that make up this book. Roxanne Gay’s honest and ironic, and I felt the points she makes about pop culture are very smart. I really loved seeing topics that that concern me analyzed in depth and critically. There’s a lot on women’s perception and portrayal in media (a great essay about the awful Robin Thicke song… you know which one) and also about how race is seen through pop culture. I particularly liked her essay about Orange is the New Black (a series I loved) and how it isn’t so innovative in its race portrayal. The fact that I happened to share a lot of her views (representation in media IS important, despite whatever my sister thinks), helped me get in her mood very easily.

I really loved that Gay isn’t afraid of saying what she thinks and having a strong stance about it. These issues are relevant to our whole society, as globalization is making the frontiers between countries a lot blurrier. So it’s important to question and address these cultural issues. Roxanne is making a point of criticizing thins that need to be explained.

Also, I loved the concept of “bad feminist”. I think we all are, I have yet to meet a perfect feminist (I’m not quite sure they exist). And there’s nothing wrong with that. We all like problematic stuff (like rom coms and rap music), but the difference is when you know why they are problematic. If you know and are able to separate the fact that you enjoyed a problematic thing, from believing that such problematic content is “okay”, you’ll be a decent feminist. After all, we’re human, and being perfectly politically correct at all times is utopic at best.

Roxanne Gay here is pointing to many women who don’t identify as feminist because they seem to think that feminism is the same as hating everything (yes, the old “angry feminist” shit we all know). She shows that it has nothing to do with that, but with wanting equality for women and men, and for trying actively to create a better society. You can be a feminist and like whatever, as long as you’re able to see the problems within it. And also, it’s a call for feminist to relax a little and don’t hate everything feminine. There’s nothing wrong with liking pink, and it won’t make you any less of a feminist (Gay actually says it’s her favorite color).

If you think you’re a good feminist, read this. If you think you’re a bad one, also read it. And if you don’t think feminism is important, PLEASE READ IT. You’ll see why it’s so important.

One day, without little previous notice, a horrible illness sweeps off 99% of the world’s population. The survivors try to group and go on in a planet that’s crumbled: no electricity, no internet (THE HORROR), nothing at all. The media and all the communications are down, as the people who worked there died as well. The world plunges into chaos.

That’s how Station Eleven begins. With some sort of flu (from Eastern Europe… I bet there’s a political reading we could do of that fact) killing almost everyone in a very short period of time, and destroys the world as we know it. The writing takes us from character to character, as the plague begins. They have different ages, sexes and races (as far as I can tell); but they are all linked by an actor (the first person to die in the novel), called Arthur Leander.

The novel then jumps to several years in the future. We meet again several of the characters that were presented on the onset of the Georgia Flu (as the disease is known). Living in a post apocalyptic wasteland (ok, not exactly a wasteland), they are, obviously, tougher and hardened against the pains of life.

My favorite was Kirsten, who is a child actor in the first part. I’m a sucker for kickass female characters and she was awesome. It also helps that she’s a Shakespearian actress (of course the Bard survives). She is a member of an artistic troupe, who perform Shakespeare and play music in the different places they get to.

Because humans are humans, there’s also a lot of crazy people around. Kirsten’s group arrive at a place where a new religious leader has decided to stay. The problem starts when a girl (supposedly betrothed to this guy) sneaks with the troupe. The crazy sect begins hunting the group and they’re separated.

While relatively short, the novel is very exciting. The pace is agile and keeps the plot moving (yaaay), so it was a good book to begin my year with. I particularly liked the shifting focus, as it gave different faces to the tragedy the characters just went through. I already talked about Kirsten, but I enjoyed other characters as much as I did her. Jeevan and Clark, for instance, are survivors. Clark was a good example of a gay character whose arc wasn’t angsting over his orientation. His conflict was related to memory and loss, which are probably the most important topics here. And he’s the one who embodies them the most (in my humble opinion). He becomes a sort of leader for one of the settlements, and he begins a museum of the past in an airport.

There’s so many things to love about this book: beautiful writing, great storytelling and relevant themes. I should probably write a paper about this, so I can geek more about it. But please not that this book is closer to McCarthy’s The Road than to any YA dystopia (though a lot less depressing).