“No wife who finds her husband addicting himself to
science fiction need fear that he is in search of an erotic outlet, anyway not
an overt one.”
In "New
Maps of Hell" by Kingsley Amis
To put it in
another context, imagine I'd be teaching F. Scott Fitzgerald to undergraduates,
some of whom would be of African descent. Do we look at the casual racism found
in the books and say "that's wrong?"
No, we assume that everyone "gets" that it's wrong. But we look at the
fact that this was considered normal/acceptable in F. Scott's day. He's still a
magnificent writer, but he reflects his own era. Scott’s similar to Amis. His
attitude to women is a reflection of the times. We can't shy away from that and
pretend it isn't so, and we can't negate him as a writer, because of it.
Imagine yourself
living in Lisbon as a young woman; wouldn’t you dread the endless comments,
abuse, physical assaults that were part of your everyday experience. Maybe this
young woman dreamt of buying an electric cattle prod and zapping those who
threatened her. But it was the times in which they lived back then. Women had
no rights in the 60s. The literature of the times, reflected that. Shall we zap
Amis with a cattle prod for being a man of his time? No. First of all, I
believe that all good books, whether niche or mainstream or somewhere
in-between, must have an implicit message they are trying to put across, which
should stick out almost like a sore thumb. That said, I in no way think this
should make books programmatic. Writing a novel with the sole purpose of
creating a text more politically correct than anything that has ever been
written might take away, all at once, all the drama and conflict that all good
novels - needless to say, I am merely expressing my own point of view here -
play with to a certain extent. Secondly, SF (fantasy and science-fiction),
possibly more so than any other genre, and even at their most mechanically
chlichéd, are written and read not simply for "idle entertainment",
but as a platform for escapism. And "entertainment" and
"escapism" are definitely not the same thing. Sure, escapism includes
enjoyment, but there are many other elements to it as well. (Such as creating a
world that is only lineally similar to the one you attempting to escape from.
Thirdly, if one raises the issue that "creators of fantasy stories
[should] have the self-awareness to properly represent gender and race in their
work". Whilst I agree that misrepresentation of elements such as race and
gender should carefully be avoided in all forms of mass-media, I also believe
that what we should tread carefully here. How, for instance, would you propose
said careful representation of gender and race in fantasy texts? Would that not
constrain the genre further, rather than pushing it to evolve? Also, I can
easily think of dystopias (Margaret Atwood's included) where gender and race
and misrepresented on purpose, and all for a good cause. (Take a world
populated and ruled by physically perfect males, for instance, where restricted
numbers of females are carefully kept under lock and key solely for
reproductive purposes. Would a book describing such a world be encouraging
development of an extremist patriarchal society, then?)
All in all, I
think one tends to push the "balanced representation" argument a bit
too far. What is a fantasy writer supposed to write? A book about a universe
where there is a balanced percentage of elves and orcs, with a 50%-50% number
of males and females in each population? And this just for the sake of keeping
it all politically correct?
I think it is
useful to develop a classification for relatively new genres, I just think some
critics have an overemphasis on it - for me pigeonholing a book into a sub-genre
is useful shorthand but also the least interesting thing you can say about it.
Thinking about
gender, for example I am currently reading a fantasy novel; it is set in a grimy slum city and I have read less than a quarter of it. So
far there have been about fifteen named male characters and three female (one
of whom is a murder victim who never appeared in the book while she was alive.
One of them is the main character's best friend's wife - she is tiny and quiet
and has had about one line of dialogue. Meanwhile a squad of soldiers who all
die in the same chapter; they are introduced and they're given histories and
personalities and distinguishing features because obviously, the author found
them cooler/more interesting to think about than a bar man's wife. I'm sure we
can all think of genre books where the only female characters are the love
interest and a few hookers.
I understand
that sometimes books can be tedious because they fail to represent, say, women
realistically and they reduce them to whimpering "angels in the
house" or worse. That is, indeed, unfortunate and inadvisable. However, correctness,
in this sense, would be "representing life as it actually is". Well,
my point is precisely that the purpose of many, many SF works are representing
the world as it actually isn't, i.e. envisioning forced situations which, as an
effect, make the reader think. I am not saying authors should be careless and
misogynistic (or, conversely, misandrist) in their approach. But by the same
token, a forced political correctness, just for the sake of being politically
correct is, I believe, misguided.
To make myself
clear - yes, I believe characters should be represented realistically and
convincingly. But I also think that authors should be free to represent
unrealistic situations realistically and convincingly. Sometimes such
situations may include gender and racial imbalance, but that is meant to be
part of the story they are trying to tell.
Coming again to
Amis’ take on SF’s classifications, it's more helpful to think about genres as a group of families than a series of
classifications. Using that metaphor, you do away with the need to draw
dividing lines, and grey areas become less problematic as you can think on them
as cases of interbreeding.
As to the “genre
fiction and comfort” catch phrase, there's a case to be made for candy floss
vs. more fibrous fare in every genre. SF stories are challenging to precisely
the extent they challenge, subvert and change the worldview encoded in the
genre's DNA. That's every bit as true in SF as it is Mundane Fiction, sitcoms, period
drama, epic poetry or the pop song.
This is of
course a very old debate. Tolkien and CS Lewis and others powerfully made the
case for fantasy as a serious literary genre back in the 1930s. Tolkien wrote a
brilliant essay called "Beowulf: the monsters and the critics" which
is still relevant and interesting - the link is here: http://scr.bi/GTjcoo.
I also think no
discussion on the literary importance of SF is complete without referencing the
important contributions of Ursula Le Guin and Kim Stanley Robinson. Le Guin's
books are a sustained examination of patriarchy and injustice and their
imaginative and literary power is inseparable from their genre status as
science fiction. For her, the language of fantasy is a key tool for critical
understanding of the present world. I have this quote from her above my desk:
"Those who refuse to listen to
dragons will probably spend their lives acting out the nightmares of
politicians. We like to think we live in daylight, but half the world is always
dark; and fantasy, like poetry, speaks the language of the night."
Well said.
Often a good
indicator of "gratification" versus more challenging entertainment is
the attitude towards change. I like genre fiction that embraces the inevitability
of transformation - not suggesting that all change should be enthusiastically
welcomed for its own sake, but recognising that change will happen, and can be
managed to some extent. What I don't like is fiction about restoring an
"old order" or a "natural order", as seems to be the case
with a lot of fantasy (and, to be fair, probably a fair amount of space opera
too). In reality there are no golden ages, there is no natural order; there is
only power and negotiation and moral debate - and the future is not going to
resemble the past.
And then this
pearl of wisdom from Amis concerning Fred Pohl showed up: “We have now reached the point of departure for the consideration, on
some detail, of the work of Frederik Pohl, the most consistently able writer science
fiction, in the modern sense, has yet produced.” What? Say again? Even by
60s standards this is a rather bold statement. There's a broad range of
critical approaches taken even in the relatively small pool of SF critics and
academics. This kind of rhetoric when it comes to SF is a formalist approach.
It's a mistake to think that the development of, for instance, a structuralist
approach, invalidates prior thinking. They are different lenses for looking at
a text, and they show different things. “New Maps of Hell” specifically seeks
to be a kind of Structuralist approach, though it's a pretty shoddy one,
because I'm not convinced, I must say, that Amis understood much of the theory
he tried to use. As with so many of the most acclaimed SF novels and stories,
they must stay within the small and, frankly, ignorant little realm where
self-referential people just read all this and think it must be the greatest
stuff ever. (And it may be, individually, for them. There's nothing wrong with
that. But to make all sorts of claims about literature and theory when they
don't have a wide and thorough understanding of all the multiplicities is, to
say the least, silly.) One can forgive the mediocrity of academics like Amis;
the rush to get published so one doesn't perish is not conducive to great
thought. But for the mediocre to be celebrated as gobsmackingly insightful by
onlookers suggests that the intellectual culture of the onlookers is rather
shallow and self-congratulating
The narrowness
of Amis’s readings and conceptions is what limits him. Different lenses are
useful for different things, but no lens deserves to be celebrated if it is
covered with scratches, cracks and mud. There is a distinct lack of 'literary'
merit (or, at least, what today is the current vogue for literary merit) in
most SF because of the scale involved. SF seems to have to be about grand scale
wars or space operas, clashes of good vs evil, and enormous journeys of
revelation, whereas a lot of the literary fiction today is focused on the minutiae
of daily life, beauty in microcosm, the power of a single word or action or
seemingly minor deed. Surely it's not too much to ask for someone to bridge
this gap - for the benefit of both genres...
For many of the
reasons which I have already provided in some of my other posts concerning SF
(and which I will try not to repeat, since repeating myself would be tedious). At
the same time I believe that SF encompasses some of the few genres where
"fairness" is not always entirely relevant based on the fact that:
a. I find that
often, in fantasy, the one who is guiltier of misrepresentation is the reader
rather than the writer. That is because he or she may be reading racial
stereotypes where the writer didn't intend them to be, out of too zealous a
sense of political correctness;
b. Again, science-fiction is often based on issues of unfairness for obvious reasons.
Moreover, some
writers put a lot of effort into creating well-rounded characters and balancing
out race and gender representations, they still use stereotypes and tropes from
time to time. And yet, all of those are used in order to advance the story and
push points that are morally valid and politically correct. China Miéville
plays nicely with the "white trash" guy who is actually pretty much
sentimental and turns out to be the saviour of the world as we know it trope
(in "King Rat"). Catherynne Valente serves a succulent array of
female prostitutes (we may easily call them that) who give up their bodies in
exchange for just one night of bliss (read that as you will) in
"Palimpsest". And yet these tropes do what they are meant to do. They
push the story forwards and they make a point.
I guess what I
am saying is that there is a fine line between "do" and
"don't", especially in art/literature. And it might not be such a
good idea to completely try to erase the "don't".
As a provision,
I would also suggest that the expectation that writers must "treat
characters as statements or representatives and not as individuals" is
also a presumption and taste of our own particular time, place, and culture. Why
"must" this be so? Are allegorical and symbolic modes always somehow
less rewarding? I think that the whole palette should be available to the
writer and the reader. I also think that imperatives about making fantasy
"representative" reveal the degree to which contemporary notions of
Realism have saturated aesthetic discussions. Representative values and
individuation are certainly not as necessary (or necessary at all) for the
success of works such as Dunsany's “The Gods of Pegana”, Cabell's “Jurgen”,
Eddison's “The Worm Ouroboros”, or Lindsay's “The Voyage to Arcturus”. And I
would maintain that -- viewed retrospectively -- two works that I greatly
admire, “A Wizard of Earthsea” and “Perdido Street Station”, now seem as much about
"types" as anything else. This is not meant to mark down Le Guin or
Mieville. Far from it. Rather, I think that “A Wizard of Earthsea” and “Perdido
Street Station” will endure despite their politics or ideology -- which will
increasingly date over time -- by virtue of their style, tone, and aesthetic
achievement are given accolades within the SF community because few people
there care anything about literary criticism after about 1960 (Amis book came
out in the 60s). And they're proud of their derriere-garde
status. It's easier for them. They can keep arguing about whether dwarves and
elves are fantasy or fantastika or whatever other classification neologism they come
up with to feel clever. Such criticism will never grow up until it can give up
on all the categorizing and move on to something meaningful. But while the
writers yearn to be back in the good ol' golden age of their youth, so do the
critics, whose understanding of what literature can be hasn't advanced much
beyond secondary school.
SF = Speculative Fiction.
SF = Speculative Fiction.
