Why I Don’t Blow Bubbles

By Olga Agafonova

I don’t do fluff. I don’t say it, I don’t write it, and I don’t like it when someone sends fluff in my direction. One of my professors once called the phenomenon “blowing bubbles.” As in, “Ellen was blowing bubbles at me the whole damn time and we didn’t get anywhere.”

Over the years there were plenty of people who thought I was rude. I don’t see it that way: rudeness is being crass or deliberately offensive. The refusal to blow bubbles means that I cut through the crap and tell it like it is so that we, whoever we may be, a) are on the same page and b) can see things for what they are instead of floating off into the wonderland of subtext and hidden meanings.

The farce and the tragedy that plays out when people don’t see what’s right in front of them is the basis for many movies.  Woody Allen’s Blue Jasmine is a fine example: Jasmine is intentionally oblivious to the fraud that her husband Hal commits because Hal finances her expensive lifestyle until one day she discovers his extramarital affair, rats him out to the authorities and loses everything when the guy commits suicide in prison.

It’s hard not to think of all the people affected by the Madoff Ponzi scheme after watching that film – some no doubt had no idea and simply trusted Madoff with their money; others, notably his tech employees, did know what went on but chose to stay silent and comfortable until everything went to hell. [1] The Madoff family paid dearly for the failure to ask tough questions: one son committed suicide two years after the scandal broke open; the second son succumbed to a cancer relapse.

The 2015 movie Spotlight is about The Boston Globe’s investigation into the child molestation cover-up by the Boston Archdiocese. What Spotlight makes clear about the scandal is that it went on for decades in large part because nobody had the courage to dig in and say “Something’s not right.” The leadership of the diocese moved priests to different parishes, the faithful didn’t want to challenge the clerics because they wanted to believe these were good men, and law enforcement did not want to get involved in a religious community’s matters.

And so it goes. Financial fraud, child abuse, infidelity, corruption and lately, breath-taking political scandals – these things don’t happen in a vacuum. They happen because we’ve gotten comfortable with people blowing bubbles at us: we think that someone else will stand up and say the right thing, someone else will write that angry letter to a senator, someone else will pen a critical op-ed. But that’s not how reality works. And that’s why I’ve written more than a few letters to my elected representatives with exhortations against supporting recent executive orders. I can only hope that they are paying attention.

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[1] Fishman, Steven . “Ponzi Supernova”. Audible. http://www.audible.com/mt/ponzisupernova. Last accessed on 23 February 2017. 

Newspaper Writing and Reading

By Ginny Padgett

I am a proud 1975 graduate of the University of South Carolina’s School of Journalism. At that time, it was ranked as one of the five best journalism schools in the country. Today, I am unsure of its specific national ranking but know it continues to be recognized for its excellence.

Even though print journalism was not my chosen concentration, I learned how to craft a story for newsprint, conduct an interview and ask questions from the floor at real news events, know the laws and ethics concerning freedom of speech, and realize the responsibility of becoming a member of the Fourth Estate.

In recent years, due to instant news via electronic means, newspaper readership has fallen to a point of near extinction. News is always happening. Our world is shrinking. We demand the latest information. We have the technology to make that a reality.

TV, radio, and social media outlets embraced this demand and rose quickly to supply it. Commerce saw the trend and identified a vast money-making market. Now billion-dollar conglomerates present news more as entertainment. Their networks dole out 20-second sound bites and conveniently packaged segments that fit tidily between commercial breaks. We have 24-hour TV news channels, talk radio, Yahoo news, FaceBook news, independent webcasts, and entire channels that spin the news to line up with your point of view, just to name a few.

However, since November newspapers are experiencing a strong comeback. Some papers are citing nearly a 200% hike in subscriptions. In fact, I have subscribed to two national newspapers during the last three months; I access them on my laptop and smart phone – the best of both worlds.  This spike proves there is still a need for good old-fashion journalism.

To make sense of our rapidly changing world, we need solid reporting from trustworthy sources. We need in-depth coverage of stories that impact our lives. We need good investigative reporters who have a detective’s gut, a bulldog’s tenacity, and a knack for clear communication. This is the kind of reporting that is strong enough, valuable enough to be distilled for use on the air waves, as well as in regional and local newspapers.  

Subscribe to a reliable newspaper today. Keep serious journalism alive.  

Shocking

By Laura P. Valtorta

www.gattafilms.com

www.thearthousemovie.webs.com

laurapv.wordpress.com

                                     

When writing anything the writer must choose between slapping the reader with suspense, death, rape, and explosions, and delivering some meaning. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn shocks the reader into turning the pages; rock singer Patti Smith’s memoir The M Train is a pleasant book that conveys meaning. Paula Hawkins’ novel The Girl on the Train relies on the shock value of its story; The Orchardist by Amanda Coplin is a quieter book.

Any good book can help the reader escape from the world, even a whodunit with the pejorative “girl” in the title. What matters are the lessons and images left when the book is finished. After reading Gone Girl, which I raced through, unable to lay it down, I could only think that the author, Ms. Flynn, is one strange human being. The Orchardist – a much more difficult read -- has a lot to say about solitude in the Wild West and vicissitudes of the human heart. Ms. Coplin is the better writer.

Recently I’ve been watching many independent films. The best one of the lot has been 20^th Century Women, directed by Mike Mills, starring Annette Bening and Billy Crudup. The weirdest is Elle, starring Isabelle Huppert. Elle does not disappoint.  It’s extremely French – a suspenseful story about rape that includes sexual assault in many forms and from different perspectives. Elle is not a film that’s easy to watch, but the viewer also can’t look away.

When I watch 20^th Century Women, I get a distinct message: generations brought up in the first and second halves of the 20^th century differ from one another in fundamental ways. Elle only shows me that Isabelle Huppert is fascinating and twisted, and so is the director – Paul Verhoeven. Maybe Elle also teaches me that sex is fundamentally twisted, but I’ve known this forever. Between these two films, 20^th Century Women is more valuable, because it teaches me lessons I didn’t already know or shows them to me in a different light.

Shocking details can sell books; good writing can teach lessons. How a writer incorporates catastrophic events such as rape, death, duplicity, war, and betrayal determines the book’s value. Those events are always present in our lives. The question is what meaning they create for an existentialist like me.

Give Your Female Characters Agency

By Kasie Whitener

Did you know there’s a rape scene in Saturday Night Fever? In all the talk of the dancing and the music and the classic character Tony Manero wanting to climb out of his Brooklyn bleakness into stardom, no one ever mentions the rape.

Toward the end of the film, Annette, Tony’s adoring fan, is swept up by the guys as they’re leaving the club. In the backseat, Annette and one of Tony’s friends have sex. The other three friends are riding up front, heckling the couple throughout. At an intersection, the friend in the back switches places with a friend in the front and the second friend attacks Annette. She tells him no, but none of the guys bother to prevent it from happening. Tony even glances back during the act, sees tears dripping down her cheeks, and does nothing.

When we make the story about the male character, we can ignore the female character’s suffering.

My senior year in college, I directed a Tennessee Williams one-act play called 27 Wagons Full of Cotton. In it, crooked businessman Silva violently takes Jake’s wife, Flora, as payment for lost cotton.

I doubt I fully understood the story I was telling. I can’t remember identifying with Flora’s helplessness. I remember being more focused on turning my friend Dennis, who played Silva, into a predator.

I watched a TEDx talk by a father imploring storytellers to show his son exactly how good men are supposed to behave. He said the old story of “hero battles evil alone and is given the girl as a prize,” sets boys up for failure. Tony ignores Annette’s rape and Jake allows his wife to be taken as payment.

When the story focuses on the male character, it is easy to dehumanize the females around him. We’re not required to make female supporting roles complex characters who have agency and purpose. We’re allowed to let them exist as props, victims, or trophies.

This recognition of women in relation to the men around them is the center conflict of my NaNoWriMo project and a lens I am using in almost all the art I experience.

I know I should do a better job with my supporting female characters. They should act on their own motives and desires. Their experiences should be valid and plot-affecting. My male characters should demonstrate acceptable treatment of their female counterparts. They should show compassion and tenderness, offer respect, and protect dignity.

Good male characters don’t need weak women to prop them up. Annette’s rape confirms what we knew about Tony: he only cares about himself. Jake’s willing acceptance of Silva’s terms further demeans Flora. Those stories are decades old, but the challenge of female agency still exists.

For every Katniss Everdeen and Hermione Granger there must be a Gayle and a Harry: men who see their female co-stars as teammates, who have expectations of the women and enable them to succeed. Equality on the page advances both female and male characters.