Showing posts with label The Atlantic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Atlantic. Show all posts

Saturday, April 28, 2012

The Atlantic proves that the New York Times doesn't have a monopoly on fantasy bashing

Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke) bares all on Game of Thrones. (That "all" is not included here, as a
consideration for anyone reading this at work or in front of small children.)

Apparently Ginia Bellafante and Neil Genzlinger at the New York Times aren't the only writers who let their anti-fantasy bias inform their opinions of Game of Thrones. Ta-Nehesi Coates at The Atlantic took on the issue of gratuitous nudity on the series, which in and of itself can be a very productive discussion. But instead of actually looking at the problem critically and coming up with a reasonably explanation, he fell back on the frustratingly prevalent explanation that fantasy is only liked by nerdy male virgins, and nerdy male virgins like to look at naked chicks:
If there's one thing I've enjoyed about exploring French film it's that the film-makers don't always come off as bunch of nerds compensating for something that did--or rather didn't--happen in high school. There's a strain of thought here (and maybe abroad) which holds that violating manners is--in and of itself--an aesthetic good, that art which makes your grandmother uncomfortable has, for only that reason, advanced society. (You see the same strain of thought in "ironic racism.") I'd rather art that considers manners largely irrelevant.
First of all, comparing Game of Thrones to the French New Wave is somewhat facetious, as they are entirely different works that are working towards divergent ends (and I say this as a fan of both French film and Game of Thrones). And saying that Francois Truffaut wasn't "compensating for something that did - or rather didn't - happen in high school"? Has Coates ever actually watched Jules et Jim? Because - and I say this again as a fan of Truffaut - the character of Katherine, like so many of the director's women, is clearly his attempt to deal with romantic rejection by resigning himself to the fact that women are, like, complicated and confusing, man.