Appreciating Zora Neale Hurston'; Margaret Atwood Takes On AI; French Women Making Trouble

I began reading Zora Neale Hurston with her Dust Tracks on a Road. I think Understanding Zora Neale Hurston’s Loneliness: Richard Deming on Hurston's 1942 autobiography, Dust Tracks on a Road does a very good job of why her memoir should be read. Hard to believe such an interesting woman was allowed to fade into obscurity.

Trouble makers: When French women write about sexual freedom by Nelly Kaprièlian-Self:

The editor and writer Vanessa Springora believes that for a woman to write about sex is a political act. Since #MeToo, French publishers have been creating new lists of feminist books. Many have been bloodless essays, but Springora’s own list at Julliard, “Fauteuse de trouble” (“Troublemaker”), which began publishing this spring, is dedicated to literary writing by women about their bodies and sexuality. “Troublemaker” carries the double sense of troubling sexual feelings and political dissent: for Springora “sexuality is also a revolutionary force”. Her argument is that writers and publishers should stop examining sexuality through the filter of the “male gaze” and adopt a female perspective. A woman who wants to write explicitly about her sexual experience needs to strike against that gaze and collapse the distinction between the act and its depiction, reclaiming the language of sex.

I never got around to reading Erica Jong - who in America has done anything like these Frenchwomen?

From The Walrus: Margaret Atwood Reviews a “Margaret Atwood” Story by AI Plus a poem that a chatbot took ten seconds to write

 Yes, I know. You’ll say that these are minor quibbles, and your Uncle Roger writes doggerel verse like this by the yard and sends it out to you every Christmas. I point out that a chatbot replacing Uncle Roger might very well happen, but, dear published author, it is not yet very likely to replace you.

My second demonstration piece was instigated by The Walrus. Here is the ask, followed by the response:

Prompt: Can you write a dark and dystopian short story in the voice of Margaret Atwood that takes place in Canada?

***

When you return from the bathroom, having recovered from your bout of faux norovirus, give yourself a pat on the back. You, dear author, would never write anything so gawd-awful, and neither—unless my brain leaves for another planet—would I. Of course, some of you will make waggish jokes, such as “Sounds like Margaret Atwood to me,” and yes, maybe the bot is onto something with the weary-faced Winnipeggers and their secret stories of terror, no doubt concerning Pierre Poilievre.

 I have no idea who is Pierre Poilievre, but I get the feeling it is a Canadian joke.

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