In Nerd: Adventures in Fandom from this Universe to the Multiverse, Maya Phillips examines Phillips begins with an examination of how geography affects fandom, both in the realms of media and how people process seeing spaces with which they’re familiar in their media. She writes, “New Yorkers mythologize the city because how else would we process its enormity, its occasional callousness, not to mention its high rents? New York City is great, but we dream it greater just to carry us through the days when it tests our mettle” (p. 19). This is especially true in the New York City of Marvel Comics. Phillips continues, examining works from Garth Ennis and Alan Moore, “There’s the New York mythology, but more importantly, there’s the American one, and our very Constitution represents an ideal that historically has never matched reality” (p. 40).

Turning to formative works from her youth, such as Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and the Toonami block of programming on Cartoon Network, Phillips writes, “The post-Buffy rise of the teenage gothic in the late 2000s to 2010s raises the question of how the trend came to be in the first place. What attracted me to teen shows was the idea that they were peeks – however unlikely and however bizarre – into what my adolescence and high school life could be” (p. 75). Phillips discusses the ways in which anime and manga opened her eyes to the spectrum of gender. For her, Sailor Moon was transformative, but she discusses others she found over the years. Phillips writes, “At their best, these genres transcend gender stereotypes and heteronormative frameworks to reveal worlds more flexible and thus inclusive. We dream of heroes so much greater than ourselves, so why would gender restrictions apply?” (p. 101). She also addresses the flipside of being an anime or manga fan, where Western audiences often equate any of it with hentai and some form of deviancy, obliquely referencing the U.S. v. Christopher Handley from 2010 (p. 112).

While time travel stories appeal to many, Phillips explains how they mostly work because their protagonists are cis-hetero white males who would have greater agency in any time they visit. She writes, “Though I found places I’d love to explore in fantasy worlds, I never found anything to love in time travel. Even if one forgets the headaches of time paradoxes and the dreaded butterfly effect, I had no interest in facing the unknown threats of the future or the familiar challenges of the past. Right now, our identity politics are better than ever, which isn’t to say they are great; Black people are still getting killed by the police, women are still victims of inequality, and queer and trans lives are still overlooked or ignored completely” (p. 151-152).

Phillips examines how fandom allows people to define themselves into categories, either divisions in Starfleet, character archytypes in Star Wars, houses in Harry Potter, and more. She writes, “There’s freedom in being able to choose one’s identity and place oneself in the context of a world where that only means something to a degree that one decides it does. It’s, in many cases, a post-racial, post-class, post-nationalist fantasy” (p. 170). Similarly, fandom influences belief systems. Discussing Fullmetal Alchemist, Constantine (2005), Neil Gaiman’s work, and what all of these reveal about belief, Phillips writes, “All these works, to whatever extent they may or may not assert certain ideologies, have something in common. In any fandom there’s an essential quality of belief – in certain politics, sure, but also in characters, in worlds, in scenarios, as strange and fantastical and mystifying as they might be. Because even in worlds marked by death gods or time-traveling aliens or weather maidens, the very first step into each world is an act of faith, a moment of engagement with the logic and beliefs of a world whose fictions can reveal something real in the viewer” (p. 233).

As fandom has grown over the last decade, with extensive never-ending franchises and endless commodification, Phillips has found – like many – that her ability to follow the latest events has waned. She writes, “I no longer felt respected as a fan but poached as a consumer” (p. 247). Despite this, Phillips concludes, “Fandom colored my view of my city, informed my ideas about gender stereotypes and performance, and welcomed me into my Blackness in a way that not many other areas or individuals in my live have. Fandom has helped me reckon with my anxiety disorder, define my beliefs, and join a community of people who share the same passions” (p. 267). This sense of community and the power of these narratives comes through in her writing. As fandom has grown over the past couple decades, its power has become more apparent. No longer can people casually dismiss these narratives. Their impact is all around us, becoming the cultural metaphors of our lives just as in the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Darmok.” To understand them is to understand ourselves. Phillips’ book is a great introduction to those who are serious about examining these fandoms and wonderfully honest as she shares their personal meanings with her readers. ( )