No firestarting intended on my end, either, and none assumed on yours. And I'd really, really like to avoid any inadvertent contribution to Wank In The House Of Fandom, so I'll take the topical part of this to email. *g* But I feel as though I should respond at least partially in this forum, since I think these are general issues. First:
I am still flabbergasted by the attitude that sets up the idea of a right/wrong argument about fandom (academics, outsiders to fandom and insiders in specific areas of fandom), and says they'd rather have outsiders make it. (I'm not sure you've made that above, but it connects to people who've said that).
I'm not very clear about what you mean here. I'm not intending to set up a right/wrong argument about fandom, only to say that the power to shape and affect discourses about fandom accrues more readily to fans whose fannishness is also a cause of affiliation with institutions that pronounce on culture.
There are people *in fandom* who affect the debates about fandom on a scale unavailable to most fans and most aca-fans: can we talk about all the press that Lexicon has gotten? About all the press that Rowling's famous debate with the mods of the HP site got?
But I'm not talking about individuals (and even my topical disagreements are not with individuals but with positions). I'm looking at the class of fans for whom fandom also has a direct bearing on their profession.
(none of us half as big as Henry's)
But Henry remembers your name, does he not? Pays you a modicum of professional courtesy, might even refer someone your way, or your name to someone else, if the chance came up and he happened to think of it? And since not even Henry, prodigious as he is, can field every request for expert testimony or an interview for publication or a quote for a news story or a chair on a panel... that's what I was trying to describe with the "cultural transponder" thing.
I'm not saying your point is valid, but it's more complicated than the "academics have all the power" and "fans have none."
I hope that isn't what actually comes across, because I don't think either of those things is true. The rhetorical construction of these issues to absolutes or binaries is very discouraging, I agree. I don't want to contribute to it, and I don't think I have.
What that argument starts to sound like to me is basically: we'd rather have the white straight men who have the most cultural capital keep making wrong arguments about fandom, but we'll go after and attack any white woman who dares to do so (I only know two academics of color who publish in fandom, both female, although I hope there are more). And there are some fairly nasty personal attacks starting to happen, including outing of people.
But I am not making this argument. And I'm not attacking anyone, personally or otherwise. It is in fact precisely the point that it's women scholars working from within fandom that makes this set of concerns so important to me, because I do most sincerely want you to represent me, include me, value my fannishness. Do I expect more of you than I do of the straight white man? Yes. And perhaps that's unfair. I don't know.
no subject
I am still flabbergasted by the attitude that sets up the idea of a right/wrong argument about fandom (academics, outsiders to fandom and insiders in specific areas of fandom), and says they'd rather have outsiders make it. (I'm not sure you've made that above, but it connects to people who've said that).
I'm not very clear about what you mean here. I'm not intending to set up a right/wrong argument about fandom, only to say that the power to shape and affect discourses about fandom accrues more readily to fans whose fannishness is also a cause of affiliation with institutions that pronounce on culture.
There are people *in fandom* who affect the debates about fandom on a scale unavailable to most fans and most aca-fans: can we talk about all the press that Lexicon has gotten? About all the press that Rowling's famous debate with the mods of the HP site got?
But I'm not talking about individuals (and even my topical disagreements are not with individuals but with positions). I'm looking at the class of fans for whom fandom also has a direct bearing on their profession.
(none of us half as big as Henry's)
But Henry remembers your name, does he not? Pays you a modicum of professional courtesy, might even refer someone your way, or your name to someone else, if the chance came up and he happened to think of it? And since not even Henry, prodigious as he is, can field every request for expert testimony or an interview for publication or a quote for a news story or a chair on a panel... that's what I was trying to describe with the "cultural transponder" thing.
I'm not saying your point is valid, but it's more complicated than the "academics have all the power" and "fans have none."
I hope that isn't what actually comes across, because I don't think either of those things is true. The rhetorical construction of these issues to absolutes or binaries is very discouraging, I agree. I don't want to contribute to it, and I don't think I have.
What that argument starts to sound like to me is basically: we'd rather have the white straight men who have the most cultural capital keep making wrong arguments about fandom, but we'll go after and attack any white woman who dares to do so (I only know two academics of color who publish in fandom, both female, although I hope there are more). And there are some fairly nasty personal attacks starting to happen, including outing of people.
But I am not making this argument. And I'm not attacking anyone, personally or otherwise. It is in fact precisely the point that it's women scholars working from within fandom that makes this set of concerns so important to me, because I do most sincerely want you to represent me, include me, value my fannishness. Do I expect more of you than I do of the straight white man? Yes. And perhaps that's unfair. I don't know.