Several years ago, when I was an active Mormon, the bishop of my ward went on a rant one Sunday about how he would never buy a Madonna CD because he didn’t want to contribute to her flagrantly sinful lifestyle. Or something like that. I found his position fundamentally stupid. Whether or not I like Madonna’s music has nothing to do with what I think of her as a person. (For the record, I like her music enough to own two greatest hits collections and one album that I very rarely listen to, and I have no opinion on her as a person.) I just don’t think I have to like a person or agree with all their opinions in order to enjoy the art they make. I try to look at each piece of art as an entity unto itself and judge it by its own merits. If I like an album or a book or a movie enough to buy it, then the creator is free to take the 32 cents she makes off that purchase and do whatever she likes with it. The money is no longer mine and therefore not my responsibility.

This anecdote comes to mind because I’ve recently begun to admit to myself that the fiction I write is speculative fiction–a mix of sci fi and fantasy. (The novel I just finished is about a cult of people with superhuman abilities who fly around in invisible jets.) As I come to accept this new layer of geekiness, it occurs to me that I should actually read some of the great works of speculative fiction that I have heretofore avoided for the sake of not accepting that stigma. I just finished the His Dark Materials trilogy (fabulous books) and have decided that next I need to read the Ender series.

Though I’ve read and enjoyed one book by Orson Scott Card before (Lost Boys), and own a collection of his essays, I’m a little hesitant about jumping into more of his writing because, as a recent commenter on Cog puts it,

I’d stay cleer of anything related to Orson Scott Card, as he’s made some of the most outrageously homophobic remarks I’ve seen in recent years.

Having read many of those outrageously homophobic remarks (including one of the essays in that collection I own), I have to agree that just about everything Card says on the subject of homosexuality makes my blood boil. More than once have I wanted to slap him and tell him he’s an idiot. I’ve had a bit of an inner debate, though, and concluded that I’m not going to let Card’s personal opinions, offensive as they may be, prevent me from judging his fiction on its own merits.

That said, Card and Madonna are not exactly parallel. Madonna has never lobbied to have my former bishop’s civil rights taken away, nor those of people he cares about. If you are a gay person or somebody who cares about gay people, I wouldn’t fault you for steering clear of Scott Card. But I’m going to read Ender’s Game and see what I think. And I’m 95% certain that I don’t feel like a traitor to the cause for doing so.

But just in case, I’m checking the book out from the library so Card doesn’t put my 32 cents toward his flagrantly sinful lifestyle.