redbird | Farthing Party

cattitude and I went to Montreal last weekend, for Farthing Party, a nice little convention that

papersky puts on with a little help from her friends. (Little as in about 70 people.) In past years, we've gotten there before things started and/or stayed over Sunday night; this year I was concerned about conserving vacation time, so we flew up Friday morning and back Sunday afternoon. And I wasted time second-guessing myself about that choice, alas.

We got there too late for the organized outings to the Musee des Beaux Artes and the Jardin Botanique (which we'd expected); those are pleasant places, but I'd been to that museum last month, and a couple of years ago I ran the Jardin Botanique outing, so I don't feel deprived. We had a late lunch, and started out string of fumbling meals slightly, in this case by misremembering the plans/restaurant guide, and getting lunch at the place that was hosting the evening social, instead of the one where people had gone for brunch. But they served me a good, if slightly odd, grilled cheese sandwich and a proper cup of tea. Then we went back to the hotel and hung out with

aedifica for a while, including a trip to Juliette et Chocolat, where I very much enjoyed the pear Belle Helene crepe we shared, and didn't like my hot chocolate, so I didn't drink it. Given how rich everything was, this may have been just as well.

We hung out in the lobby for a bit longer, and then I was feeling down, so Cattitude and I spent a while in our hotel room playing Scrabble, which we both enjoy and which proved restorative, before going over to the evening location. I wasn't very hungry, but had tea and a bagel with cream cheese (a small thing with a little protein) and some cherry tomatoes that

embryomystic didn't want. Good conversations with

rysmiel and

nancylebov, and briefer ones with some other people. (I am not going to attempt to name-check everyone.)

[Part of the low mood and disconnection was physical, I think. I tore a nail early in the trip: I was trying to clip a rough edge, but something went wrong and created a thin vertical line all the way down the nail. I put a band-aid on it (and replaced that as needed), but it's an irritation. I haven't exactly fixed it yet, as the only useful suggestion I found quickly involves nail glue, an emery board, and a scrap of silk, tea bag, or coffee filter. I now have nail glue, and we have plenty of tea bags. And menstrual cramps never help anything.]

Saturday morning, after an omelet and some tea, I went to the "A Good Read" and "Genre Ramblings" panels. "A Good Read" was four people, discussing four books (each selected one, and they all read all four); it worked well, and I wound up coming home with

alecaustin site="livejournal.com">'s copy of The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms,, because he disliked the book and I mentioned at lunch that I wanted to read it. "Genre Ramblings" was people playing with different definitions of what a genre is—TNH started by pointing out that they weren't using the litcrit definition, in which "novel" is a genre—and then the panel for some reason spent a lot of time discussing steampunk.

We went to lunch with

mrissa, Alec Austin,

timprov, and a friend of theirs named Chelle. We were going to go for Spanish food, but the place was closed. So we turned around and headed for our second choice, an Asian fusion place. Which was also closed. We wound up at a vegan Thai restaurant, whose virtue was that it was right there and open; I got a vegetable pad thai, because I am skeptical of the vegetarian fake "meats", and Alec, who has experience in that direction, says that they vary widely and it's risky if you don't know what you're getting/who the restaurant buys from. So, tofu and rice noodles, and conversation, then Suite 88 for excellent ice cream. That part of the plan did work out, and the company and the ice cream place helped me feel more connected to things.

The panel on "First SF" was an interesting discussion of what science fiction the panelists had read as children, with a wide variety, in part because of where they were living: one Welsh person, one American, one Quebecois, one French. The sf canon in French contains a lot of translated American and British works, but it's different from what we're used to getting: A.E. Van Vogt is still popular, in part because he got a very good translator. Someone mentioned that the Germans consider Robert Burns to be a major poet: the standard German translations of Burns are by Rilke.

I gathered Cattitude, rysmiel, and Nancy for dinner, and told rysmiel that what I wanted for dinner was someplace I'd been before that they knew were open. (I visit enough that this was not asking for telepathy.) They suggested Shambala (Tibetan), so we went there and I ate dumplings. We ran into a woman named Alayna in the lobby, and she joined us; I'm not sure any of us knew her before dinner, but she was interesting and pleasant, and I'm glad to have met her.

We got to the evening party after the birthday cake had been cut, but in time to have a piece. (It was

elisem's 50th birthday, and Evelyn WINOLJ's tenth.) I talked to a few people, including a few minutes grinning at rysmiel and

roadnotes, and then Elise, TNH, and PNH started the music circle. I stayed at that end of the room, listened, and sang along on a few things. It turns out I know essentially all the lyrics to Warren Zevon's "Mohammed's Radio" (a couple of years ago, rysmiel and I filled in bits of "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" when Patrick forgot a few lines). A bit after 11, Elise said that they were going to finish the way they always did at home (i.e. Minneapolis), a mix of religious and secular music that starts slow and then speeds up. The first song was "Amazing Grace," which is the Christian hymn I know best, because of its use in the Civil Rights movement. I have forgotten what pop song they segued into (Minneapolitans?), and from which they slid into "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" (the connection seemed reasonable), before finishing with Janis Joplin's "Oh Lord, Won't You Buy Me A Mercedes Benz." I had fun, and when I went over to talk to Elise for a moment and tell her so, she thanked me for singing along.

Sunday morning we had breakfast, packed, and then went to all the morning programming. "Families in SF" had some good thoughts on why there are relatively few families in science fiction stories. A chunk of it is structural: Mrissa pointed out that presenting the relationships in a realistic family can take quite a bit of time from/in the story (using as an example her own family, and their relationships with each other, their own and each others' parents and siblings and so on; much simpler to have most of those people off stage. Mris also pointed out that Vlad Taltos's Noish-pa, in Steven Brust's books, is the only grandfather she can think of in genre.

Sunday lunch was with Papersky,

jonsinger, Papersky, her son Z and his partner A (their usual initials when she writes about them),

carbonel, and Glenn who I don't think is on LJ. More good conversation, and a really superior crepe, with buckwheat with sauteed leeks inside and seared scallops on top of it. I'd barely said more than hello to Papersky until then, so was very glad of the chance to catch up. She and A spent a little time talking about logistics for the evening party; listening to them somehow made me feel better about not being able to be there, because it solidified things. And then we said our goodbyes and headed to the airport.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Date: 2010-08-25 12:31 pm (UTC)

From:

adrian_turtle

no subject

I'm glad you had a good time. I'm sorry your effort to conserve vacation time caused so much stress. Second-guessing that kind of decision is always hard, but I (selfishly) hope it was worth it.

I agree with Alec about vegetarian fake meats. Some are very good at pretending to be meat, some are very good at just being food, and others are just unfortunate. Or perhaps some of those I consider unfortunate are just not to my taste. I thought almond milk was horrible stuff that nobody would drink unless they were allergic to soy and couldn't drink dairy...yet when you posted about testing for lactose intolerance a few years ago, a fair number of people responded that almond milk was tastier than soymilk. There's no accounting for taste.

Sunday morning we had breakfast, packed, and then went to all the morning programming. "Families in SF" had some good thoughts on why there are relatively few families in science fiction stories. A chunk of it is structural: Mrissa pointed out that presenting the relationships in a realistic family can take quite a bit of time from/in the story (using as an example her own family, and their relationships with each other, their own and each others' parents and siblings and so on; much simpler to have most of those people off stage. Mris also pointed out that Vlad Taltos's Noish-pa, in Steven Brust's books, is the only grandfather she can think of in genre.

I disagree with this. First, I'm not sure families in sf are all THAT uncommon. Piotr Vorkosigan is another grandfather I would expect most of Farthing Party to know. Elizabeth Moon write stories about spacefaring families--there's a lot more focus on aunts and grandmothers than grandfathers, but that take the focus away from family or make the structure simpler. Heinlein shows Lazarus Long's grandfather (he shows up initially as Maureen's father, but continues in the role of a grandfather, and none of that is structurally simple.) Some of the characters in Robinson's "Red Mars" become grandparents of characters in the sequels. Grandparents aren't as common in sf as spaceships, but they're far from unheard of.

I don't think extended family relationships are rare in sf because they're complicated and distracting. SF doesn't hesitate to write about romantic relationships, which are also complicated and distracting. (As I'm sure you've noticed, romantic relationships that are new or jealous or unhappy are more common subplots than those that are stable and happy. What's that about complexity offstage?)

What seems more likely is that family relationships indicate dependence. That's why so many children's stories start with the protagonists orphaned or abandoned, somehow isolated from their families and pushed to be heroes.