Curious Cat Question: Unhand my Culture, Varlet!

After watching Quentin Tarrantino's "Django Unchained", I wondered what discussions had been set-off by Tarrantino's alt-history/revenge fantasy movie. After all, Tarrantino's a white guy doing a movie about blacks in American history; I'm sure this has to stick in someone's craw.

A quick google-check soon pointed me to director Spike Lee's criticism of the movie despite not having seen it, to wit (or tweet): 

American Slavery Was Not A Sergio Leone Spaghetti Western. It Was A Holocaust. My Ancestors Are Slaves. Stolen From Africa. I Will Honor Them. 

(Quick survey question: Is an opinion justified if the person hasn't seen the movie or read the book? Let's also thrown in books like "Fifty Shades of Grey" and "Twilight" into the discussion pot and let simmer for an hour.)

My first thought about this was: would it have made a difference to Spike Lee if a black man had directed the movie? Obviously, the fact that Tarrantino's white was be a sore point. But were there other factors that would make such cultural appropriation of black history in America by a white man despite the movie's satirical, almost absurdist viewpoint-- um, unappropriate? Or is the color of the skin enough?

Ask a question, find the answer. I like the point raised by this review, which wonders why is Tarrantino giving his white audience an "escape hatch" from the historical crimes with the 'Good White Man' as opposed to the more black-and-white "Inglorious Bastards". Would the movie have been better if it was more unforgiving? Given that Tarrantino didn't pull any punches with his anti-Nazi movie "Inglorious Bastards", it's pretty interesting he took this direction with "Django Unchained". 

Personally and after some long thought, I suppose my main problem with the movie is Tarrantino's basis for his alt-western: it's not based on actual history but rather on Movie History, with its obvious influences in spaghetti westerns and blaxploitation films. Think about it: if you're going to present a skewed version of history, maybe your perspective shouldn't be skewed enough to begin with, right? Tarrantino's use of Movie History as the lens to create his own skewed history unfortunately distorts whatever message he's trying to convey to the point that all the images come out looking like they're from Bizarro-World. 

Undoubtedly, questions like these interest me because of concerns raised about writing and cultural appropriation. I've read a bit of the blog Requires Only That You Hate and its intense hatred of Western appropriation, specifically by Paolo Bacigalupi. Here, I thought the parallelism of Tarrantino's situation especially apt: can someone (white, Westerner) not from a particular world (black, Asian) write about that world?

The answer I've heard in return is always: yes, but with respect and understanding. But who's going to judge? What is the standard of respect and understanding? After all, to skew an old saying, one's white man's burden is another white man's escape hatch, right? In Tarrantino's case, was he respectful of the material-- or the history? 

What do you think? 

Notes from the Trenches

1. Some interesting discussions happening over the National Artist controversy (i.e. the selection of filmmaker Carlo J. Caparas, et al.).

2. On one hand is noted illustrator Gerry Alanguilan's vociferous objections against CJC's selection all collected here.

3. On the other hand, some discussion over here has led to some interesting observations with the original poster Deus Arquera and local firebrand Adam David actually taking the position that CJC is eligible to be selected as National Artist for Visual Arts (i.e. komiks or comics).

a) though Adam does convey his opinion against the whole show here (which Deus also affirms in the said post).

4. I tried to integrate the two discussions together by raising it in the comments, i.e:

a) Gerry Alanguilan raised some pertinent elements on the difference between art forms especially with regard to comics... I see your point in raising comparisons with architecture, film, etc. However, I also see Gerry’s point. My question is: are apples and oranges the same? (That is, should the comparisons apply given that these are different forms of art?)

b) We know the contributions of all artists have equal merit. However, in the aforementioned discussion in Gerry Alanguilan’s blog, it was mentioned that though CJC came up with the idea of Panday, it was the illustrator who came up with the look that’s etched into the masses’ mind. And how about the role of FPJ as the movie-version of Panday? Does that count?

I guess my question is: does the sole merit of an artwork lie in the one who conceptualized/created the idea or the one who translates it? And what happens when the translation becomes more popular than the creation?

5. Deus' answers my first question with:

a) Gerry Alanguilan’s argument is that the executors, like (National Artist for Scupture Arturo) Luz’s carpenters, have no room for interpretation, which I disagree with. The executors aren’t machines, so how can there not be some degree of interpretation? There is no such thing as absolute, total control over the creative process.

6. While Adam states (in vernacular, translated to English):

a) What I contest about Sir Gerry's call is the exclusivist compartamentalist view of creation. It seems like you're saying the contribution of merit in the growth of a tree is the water and not the sun or soil or care. Deus' point and my point as well is that not only the water or sun or soil or care makes the tree grow: all of this contributes in its growth regardless if it's an apple tree or an orange tree.

7. What do you people think? Who has merit of contribution in particular art forms?

8. Personally, I don't think I can subscribe to the viewpoint of the duo given that though Adam's observations may be correct, it still doesn't take into account the weight of the contribution. I mean, haven't we all heard of the oft-repeated saying "ideas are a dime a dozen" in writing? Isn't the effort, the execution rather than the conception that matters? And my flash fic "Black Worms" as a movie would be so much smoke if it weren't for Khavn's efforts.

9. From what I heard, CJC doesn't do much in terms of storyboarding. I'm not sure about preliminary sketches. So if we were to understand the problem, we have to ask: did CJC come up with the idea of his creations only or did he have other input?

10. For my second question, Deus answers:

a) That would be one of my questions as well, actually, which is why I am being ambivalent on the case of Caparas. It’s not as if we can readily quantify the contributions of the collaborators to a given creative project—assuming it is even possible. Hence, all this talk involving rigid, supposedly self-evident, supposedly logical, categories disturbs me, because these categories are not rigid, self-evident, or logical—they are arbitrary ones that a particular set of people has chosen to establish instead of others. “The Analytical Language of John Wilkins” by Borges is helpful in this regard.

11. Likewise, Adam sez:

a) That's what happened to Superman, didn't it? We all know Superman now doesn't rely on the pure concept of Siegel and Schuster, but on the overall whole mythology that's 70 years old, and what we know of Supermean now is not original to the intent of S&S (from flying to his kryptonite weakness). Once we apply this to our question, the purist argument collapses to Caparas' being qualified (for the award).

My answer there is that there is no single one who can take the entire (credit) on one thing especially if we're talking about a (collaborating) work, whether it's by intent (comics) or not (movie adaptation)...

... And the flaw of the apples and oranges analogy is that comics are a hybrid artform. It's an "applorange". And again, why should we compartmentalize things?

12. I would agree with Deus that this is an interesting question indeed, the tricky area of translations and renditions. One of my favorite books is a book by the Argentinean writer Angelica Gorodischer, Kalpa Imperial. It's wonderfully-written-- and it's translated into English by Ursula K. Le Guin. You have to wonder what would the creative sharing in translations: am I enjoying the prose because of Gorodischer or because Le Guin?

14. On the other hand, my perspective on Adam's point is that: I think it's a lot more complicated than that. For example, the superhero comicbook named Miracle Man was penned first by Alan Moore and then later by Neil Gaiman. However, before these writers came on-board, Miracle Man was originally a second-rate copy of Captain Marvel called 'Marvel Man'. Who remembers that first (original) version?

The Root of the Word

Here's an interesting money quote about Stephen King's latest collection:

The literary critic Leslie Fiedler, in an interview given a few weeks before he died, recalled telling a group of postmodern fiction writers, “Look, let’s be frank with each other: When all of us are forgotten, people will still be remembering Stephen King.” Anyone who claims to be interested in contemporary American literature needs to understand what he’ll be remembered for.

A timely reminder when we think of the word, 'criticism.'

Remaining Silent

Here's an issue* that's gotten my blood pressure up for this week, this time at noids' site Filipinowriter. Using the parallel of the Da Vinci Code, let's re-imagine it going this way:

Writer: I wrote a story about a religious figure getting it on with someone!
Some people: Oh noes! He wrote it so it must be true! Take it out! TAKE IT OUT!!!
Me: WTF?

Here's the actual text of the story. But that's not what got me all het up. The real issue is something called the spiral of silence by Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann. Here's the gist:

The theory asserts that a person is less likely to voice an opinion on a topic if one feels that one is in the minority for fear of reprisal or isolation from the majority (Anderson 1996: 214; Miller 2005: 277).

More interesting is this on "overcoming the silence":

The theory explains a 'vocal minority' by stating that people who are highly educated, or who have greater affluence, and the few other cavalier individuals who do not fear isolation, are likely to speak out regardless of public opinion (Miller 2005: 279). It further states that this minority is a necessary factor of change while the compliant majority is a necessary factor of stability, with both being a product of evolution.

What a crazy world we live in. But as I've said, why so serious?

(issue pointed out by kyu)


*Basically someone wrote an online story using a venerable religious school/institution as backdrop and some people disagreed with it because the story was about a priest and a woman having a relationship. Because of the criticism, the writer took down the story but put it back up with the title (which was the institution's) name changed.

Personally, I haven't read the story yet but I like the idea of using the backdrop to give flavor to the story. Of course such execution may vary.

Curious Cat Question

For those of you out there who write, what is your stand on criticism, critique, and critical perspective? You know, the whole she-bang?

Obviously, the answers could range from following the canons and talking in academic-speak from day one to "kill all critics!" and "let creative process rule!" But I want to hear it from you people.

Don't worry, answers won't be graded. *winks*

UPDATE: Here are some more interesting replies courtesy of kyu's multiply.