This collection of fresh essays addresses a broad range of topics in the BBC science fiction television series Doctor Who, both old (1963-1989) and new (2005-present). The book begins with the fan: There are essays on how the show is viewed and identified with, fan interactions with each other, reactions to changes, the wilderness years when it wasn't in production. Essays then look at the ways in which the stories are told (e.g., their timeliness, their use of time travel as a device, etc.). After discussing the stories and devices and themes, the essays turn to looking at the Doctor's female companions and how they evolve, are used, and changed by their journey with the Doctor.
Doctor Who in Time and Space is a recent collection of essays about … you know. The JN-T book made me curious about the fanzines of the ’80s, and Google Books threw this up as a result.
I am … disappointed. There are a few good essays here, including an outstanding piece by J. M. Frey called “Whose Doctor?”, about Sydney Newman and Doctor Who‘s ties to Canada, and colonialism and cultural cringe. That alone was worth the $16 I paid for the Kindle edition.
A lot of the essays, though, just made me cranky. For example, “Nostalgia for Empire, 1963-1974″ by Maura Grady and Cassie Hemstrom is based on the premise that Doctor Who had no political stories after 1974. Even if you narrow “political” down to “about imperialism”, which is the authors’ particular area if interest, that’s nonsense. Robert Holmes wrote a whole lot of Tom Baker stories about imperialism’s first cousin, colonialism, albeit not always with grace. But then, he wasn’t exactly subtle, either. And if we take a wider view of “political”, the McCoy era was basically one big critique of Thatcherism, racism, consumerism, etc.
But the essay that particularly annoyed me was “A Country Made From Metal? The “Britishness” of Human-Machine Marriage in Series 31″ by Kate Flynn. This is ostensibly an examination of the Pond-Williams marriage, only it seems to take the premise that Rory is the only person that counts in that relationship. For example, Leadworth is described as “Rory’s home town”, when it was also Amy’s. Additionally, at different points the author describes Amy as “for the dads”, “hypersexualised” and a “shrew”. (There’s a whole section about how Rory is emasculated by women who don’t appreciate him.) It’s a shame, because there were a lot of interesting ideas in this essay, that could be further applied to series 7 and the Ponds’ departure, but the misogyny was just disappointing, especially coming from a woman. (I shouldn’t be surprised, but I always am.)
Finally, I just didn’t find the collection hugely well edited. Unless “the wizard Gandolph” is a figure in some media I haven’t yet encountered.
I didn't particularly care for this set of essays. They felt disjointed and just not very interesting. The one essay that was particularly interesting - the one about the heroine's journey as seen in Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, and Donna Noble - persists in misunderstanding Rose Tyler and the Doctor's love for one another and how it culminates in the Metacrisis Tenth Doctor. The author, like so many others, insists on dismissing the Metacrisis Doctor (known often to fans as Tentoo) as a mere clone, a consolation prize because Rose and the Doctor can't be together. The Metacrisis Doctor *is* the Doctor, reborn in a human body with a human lifetime to live, a man who can actually give Rose the life she deserves, where she will not come a distant last to all of the Doctor's many responsibilities as a Time Lord. Tentoo is, in truth, the winner of the raffle that was the Metacrisis. He got to live the dream of living a life with the woman they loved while the Time Lord had to carry on, broken and increasingly lost. I do not understand how this is such a difficult concept to writers in these compilations, and it's quite irritating.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I will never get back the time I wasted trying to decipher this appallingly written collection. There's so much interesting stuff going on in Doctor Who, this was such a waste. And completely uncritical of the series. The spelling of "Gandolph" was especially painful to behold.
Dreadful. I nearly headed for one star when assessing this book. How can such stunning and brilliant popular culture create such dull, predictable and boring analyses of it? This is a 'theory-lite' book. It is also an 'ideas lite' book. It features basic discussions of fandom, embedded with some rather diabolical sexism towards female fans, no mentions of bricolage and - most disturbingly - a lack of contexual investigations of the programme.
Why Doctor Who is so remarkable is that it weaves a complex and intricate relationship with its present. As its context changes - over 50 years - the programme changes, and radically. The role of cultural history in framing and shaping this programme is completely absent. Similarly, for a book published in 2013, the lack of attention to digitization, deterritorialization and disintermediation is - frankly - amazing.
Doctor Who is - and has been - high popular culture and low popular culture. It is both. It is just about the only example of popular culture that can manage the high and low elements and remain popular. It is a tenuous path. It often fails in managing the balance, but those failures are stark and important in and of themselves. The programme deserves a better monograph than this. So do the fans. So do cultural studies scholars.
A collection of thoughtful, intellectual essays on a range of topics as they relate to Doctor Who. Feminism, imperialism, horror, the news media, and fans themselves, among other topics, are discussed in detail. Some of the essays are shallow; some could do with a bit more editorial oversight; there are a few too many failed sentences, misspellings, and other errors for a book of this bent. But overall the ideas presented are intelligently considered and discussed.
Recommended for intellectual supernerds like me. :)
The quality of the essays in Doctor Who in Time and Space varies, but none of them are outright bad. My favorite was Kristine Larsen’s “Everything Dies: The Message of Mortality in the Eccleston and Tennant Years.” The most disappointing essay was David Whitt’s “‘Whatever you do, don’t blink!’ Gothic Horror and the Weeping Angels Trilogy” because it basically just summarized the episodes and didn’t really explore their relationship to the Gothic.