Sunday, February 3, 2008

Genres

Science Fiction
from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Science_fiction

Science fiction is a broad genre of fiction that often involves speculations based on current or future science or technology. Science fiction is found in books, art, television, films, games, theater, and other media.

In organizational or marketing contexts, science fiction can be synonymous with the broader definition of speculative fiction, encompassing creative works incorporating imaginative elements not found in contemporary reality; this includes fantasy, horror, and related genres.

Science fiction differs from fantasy in that, within the context of the story, its imaginary elements are largely possible within scientifically established or scientifically postulated laws of nature (though some elements in a story might still be pure imaginative speculation).

Science fiction is largely based on writing entertainingly and rationally about alternate possibilities in settings that are contrary to known reality. These include:
  • A setting in the future, in alternative time lines, or in a historical past that contradicts known facts of history or the archeological record
  • A setting in outer space, on other worlds, or involving aliens
  • Stories that contradict known or supposed laws of nature
  • Stories that involve discovery or application of new scientific principles, such as time travel or psionics, or new technology, such as nanotechnology, faster-than-light travel or robots, or of new and different political or social systems


Exploring the consequences of such differences is the traditional purpose of science fiction, making it a "literature of ideas."

Science fiction is difficult to define, as it includes a wide range of subgenres and themes. Author and editor Damon Knight summed up the difficulty by stating that "science fiction is what we point to when we say it." Vladimir Nabokov argued that were we rigorous with our definitions, Shakespeare's play The Tempest would have to be termed science fiction.

According to science fiction writer Robert A. Heinlein, "a handy short definition of almost all science fiction might read: realistic speculation about possible future events, based solidly on adequate knowledge of the real world, past and present, and on a thorough understanding of the nature and significance of the scientific method." Rod Serling's stated definition is "fantasy is the impossible made probable. Science Fiction is the improbable made possible."

Forrest J. Ackerman publicly used the term "sci-fi" at UCLA in 1954, though Robert A. Heinlein had used it in private correspondence six years earlier. As science fiction entered popular culture, writers and fans active in the field came to associate the term with low-budget, low-tech "B-movies" and with low-quality pulp science fiction.



Speculative Fiction
from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speculative_fiction

Speculative fiction is a term which has been used in multiple related but distinct ways. Speculative fiction is a type of fiction that asks the classic "What if?" question and attempts to answer it.

In some contexts, it has been used as an inclusive term covering a group of fiction genres that speculate about worlds that are unlike the real world in various important ways. In these contexts, it generally includes science fiction, fantasy, horror fiction, supernatural fiction, superhero fiction, alternate history, and magic realism. The term is used this way in academic and ideological criticism of these genres, as well as by some readers, writers, and editors of these genres.


In other contexts, the term has been used to express dissatisfaction with what some people consider the limitations of science fiction per se. For example, in Harlan Ellison's writing, the term may signal a wish not to be pigeonholed as a science fiction writer, and a desire to break out of science fiction's genre conventions in a literary and modernist direction; or to escape the prejudice with which science fiction is often met by mainstream critics. Some readers and writers of science fiction see the term as insulting towards science fiction, and therefore as having negative connotations.

The use of "speculative fiction" in the sense of expressing dissatisfaction with science fiction was popularized in the 1960s and early 1970s by Judith Merril and other writers and editors, in connection with the New Wave movement. It fell into disuse around the mid 1970s.

In more recent times, the term has come into wider use again, and gained the neutral inclusive sense as a convenient collective term for a set of genres. Its modern meaning depends on the speaker and the context.

Academic journals which publish essays on speculative fiction include Femspec, Extrapolation, and Foundation.



Utopia
from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utopia

Utopia (from Greek: οὐ, "not", and τόπος, "place" as well as εὖ, "good" or "well", and τόπος ["good place"]—the double meaning was probably intended) is a fictional island in the Atlantic Ocean, written about by Sir Thomas More as the fictional character Raphael Hythloday (translated from the Greek as "knowing in trifles") as possessing a perfect socio-politico-legal system. The name has come to mean, in popular parlance, an ideal society. As such, it has been used to describe both intentional communities that attempted to create an ideal society, and fictional societies portrayed in literature. The term is sometimes used pejoratively, in reference to an unrealistic ideal that is impossible to realize, and has spawned other concepts, most prominently dystopia.


Dystopia
from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dystopia


A dystopia (from the Greek δυσ- and τόπος,) is a fictional society that is the antithesis of utopia. A dystopic society is characterised by negative traits the author chooses to illustrate, such as poverty, dictatorship, violence, and/or pollution.

Some academic circles distinguish between anti-utopia and dystopia. As in George Orwell's 1984, a dystopia does not pretend to be good, while an anti-utopia appears to be utopian or was intended to be so, but a fatal flaw or other factor has destroyed or twisted the intended utopian world or concept.

The only trait common to all dystopias is that they are negative and undesirable societies, but many commonalities are found across dystopian societies. In general, dystopias are seen as visions of "dangerous and alienating future societies," often criticizing current trends in culture.
It is a culture where the condition of life is "extremely bad," as from deprivation, oppression, or terror.

Many dystopias, found in fictional and artistic works, can be described as a utopian society with at least one fatal flaw; whereas a utopian society is founded on perfectionism and fulfillment, a dystopian society’s dreams of improvement are overshadowed by stimulating fears of the “ugly consequences of present-day behavior”.

Social Themes in Dystopia

Most dystopias impose severe social restrictions on the characters' lives. This can take the form of social stratification, where social class is strictly defined and enforced, and social mobility is non-existent (see caste system). For example, the novel Brave New World's class system is prenatally designated in terms of Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Deltas, and Epsilons, who lack the very ability to advance.

Another, often related form of restriction lies in the requirement of strict conformity among citizens, with a general assumption that dissent and individuality are bad. In the novel We by Yevgeny Zamyatin, people are permitted to live out of public view for only an hour a day. They are not only referred to by numbers instead of names, but are neither "citizens" nor "people", but "numbers." In the lower castes, in Brave New World, single embryos are "bokanovskified", so that they produce between eight and ninety-six identical twins, making the citizens as uniform as possible.

Some dystopian works emphasize the pressure to conform in terms of the requirement to not excel. In these works, the society is ruthlessly egalitarian, in which ability and accomplishment, or even competence, are suppressed or stigmatized as forms of inequality, as in Kurt Vonnegut's "Harrison Bergeron". Similarly, in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, the dystopia represses the intellectuals with particular force, because most people are willing to accept it, and the resistance to it consists mostly of intellectuals.

In a typical dystopia, there is a total absence of any social group besides the state, as in We, or such social groups being subdivisions of the state, under government control, for example, the Junior Anti-Sex League in 1984.

Among social groups, independent religions are notable by their absence. In Brave New World, the establishment of the state including lopping off the tops of all crosses (as symbols of Christianity) to make them "T"s, (as symbols of Henry Ford's Model T). The state may stage, instead, a personality cult, with quasi-religious rituals about a central figure, usually a head of state or an oligarchy of some sort, such as Big Brother in 1984, or the The Benefactor of We. In explicitly theocratic dystopias, such as Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, the religion is the state, and is enforced with the same vigor as any secular dystopia's rule; it does not provide social bonds outside the state.

Even more than religion, family is attacked by dystopian societies. In some societies, it has been completely eradicated, but clearly at great effort, and continuing efforts are deployed to keep it down, as in Brave New World, where children are reproduced artificially, where the concept of a "mother" or "father" is obscene. In others, the institution of the family exists but great efforts are deployed to keep it in service of the state, as in 1984, where children are organized to spy on their parents. In We, the escape of a pregnant woman from the United State is a revolt; the hostility of the state to motherhood is a particularly common trait.

The dystopia often must contain human sexuality in order to prevent its disrupting society. The disruption often springs from the social bonds that sexual activity foments rather than sexual activity itself, as when Ayn Rand's Anthem features a hero and heroine whose revolt stems from a wish to form a human connection and express personal love. Therefore, some dystopias are depicted as containing it through encouraging promiscuous sexuality and lack of ideals of romantic love, so that the characters do not impute importance to the activity. In Brave New World, Lenina Crowne confesses to having sexual intercourse with only one man and is encouraged by her friend to be more promiscuous, and in We, "numbers" (people) are allowed sexual intercourse with any other number by registering for access. Alternatively, antisexualism is also prevalent as a way of social control (the Junior Anti-Sex League in 1984), where the state controls so heavily the lives of its citizens that sexual activity is often an act of rebellion.

The society frequently isolates the characters from all contact with the natural world. Dystopias are commonly urban, and generally avoid nature, as when walks are regarded as dangerously anti-social in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.


Polictal Themes in Dystopia

Dystopian politics are often characterized as one or several types of governments and political systems. These systems include, but are not limited to, bureaucracy, socialism, communism, chaos, capitalism, fascism, totalitarianism, dictatorships and other forms of political, social and economical control. These governments often assert great power over the citizens, dramatically depicted in 1984 as the authority to decree that Two + two = five.

In When the Sleeper Wakes, H. G. Wells depicted the governing class as hedonistic and shallow. George Orwell contrasted this to the world of Jack London's The Iron Heel, where the dystopian rulers are brutal and dedicated to the point of fanaticism, which he considered more plausible; this is, indeed, more typical of dystopias in general.

Utopian politics are often considered as idealistic in practice towards the society in which they are dictated and enacted. Dystopian politics, however, are considered flawed in some way or have negative connotations amongst the inhabitants of the dystopian “world”. Dystopian politics are portrayed as oppressive.

Dystopias are often filled with pessimistic views of the ruling class or government that is brutal or uncaring ruling with an “iron hand” or “iron fist.” These dystopian government establishments often have protagonists or groups that lead a “resistance” to enact change within their government.

Examples of dystopian politics in literary fiction can be read in Parable of the Sower, 1984, and V for Vendetta. Dystopian politics are portrayed in films such as Fahrenheit 451, Brazil and THX 1138.

In some dystopian societies, there is little government control and the people themselves cause chaos: in the videogame Bioshock, based on Objectivist principles, the antagonist Andrew Ryan built an underwater city where "the artist would not fear the censor... where the great would not be constrained by the small", ie. a capitalist utopia. Science, technology, and business were all essentially powered by competition. When Frank Fontaine, a mobster turned businessman, begins to overturn Ryan Industries' domination of the "free" market, however, Ryan panics and begins to use more heavy-handed methods of control, leading to civil war.

Economic Themes in Dystopia

The economic structures of dystopian societies in literature and other media have many variations, as the economy often relates directly to the elements that the writer is depicting as the source of the oppression. However, there are several archetypes that such societies tend to follow.

A commonly occurring theme is that the state is in control of the economy, as shown in such works as Ayn Rand's Anthem and Henry Kuttner's short story "The Iron Standard". Some dystopias, such as 1984, feature black markets with goods that are dangerous and difficult to obtain, or the characters may be totally at the mercy of the state-controlled economy. Such systems usually have a lack of efficiency, as seen in stories like Philip Jose Farmer's Riders of the Purple Wage, featuring a bloated welfare system in which total freedom from responsibility has encouraged an underclass prone to any form of antisocial behavior. Kurt Vonnegut's Player Piano depicts a dystopia in which the centrally controlled economic system has indeed made material abundance plentiful, but deprived the mass of humanity of meaningful labor; virtually all work is menial and unsatisfying, and even very few of the small group that achieves education is admitted to the elite and its work.

Even in dystopias where the economic system is not the source of the society's flaws, as in Brave New World, the state often controls the economy. In Brave New World, a character, reacting with horror to the suggestion of not being part of the social body, cites as a reason that everyone works for everyone else.

Other works feature extensive privatization. In this context, big businesses often have far more control over the populace than any kind of government and thus act as governments themselves instead of businesses, as can be seen in the novel Jennifer Government. This is common in the genre of cyberpunk, such Blade Runner and Snow Crash, which often features corrupt and all-powerful corporations, often a megacorporation.


Characteristics of dystopian fiction
Dystopia is generally considered a subgenre of science fiction.


The back story
Because a fictional universe has to be constructed, a selectively-told back story of a war, revolution, uprising, critical overpopulation, or other disaster is often introduced early in the narrative. This results in a shift in emphasis of control, from previous systems of government to a government run by corporations, totalitarian dictatorships or bureaucracies.

Because dystopian literature typically depicts events that take place in the future, it often features technology more advanced than that of contemporary society. Usually, the advanced technology is controlled exclusively by the group in power, while the oppressed population is limited to technology comparable to or more primitive than what we have today.

In order to emphasize the degeneration of society, the standard of living among the lower and middle classes is generally poorer than in contemporary society (at least in United States or Europe, but far superior to any third-world country). In 1984, the Inner Party, the upper class of society, also has a standard of living lower than the upper classes of today. This is not always the case, however; in Brave New World and Equilibrium, people enjoy much higher material living standards in exchange for the loss of other qualities in their lives, such as independent thought and emotional depth.


The Hero
Unlike utopian fiction, which often features an outsider to have the world shown him, dystopias seldom feature an outsider as the protagonist. While such a character would more clearly understand the nature of the society, based on comparison to his society, the knowledge of the outside culture subverts the power of the dystopia. When such outsiders are major characters—such as John the Savage in Brave New World—their societies are not such as can assist them against the dystopia.

Except for A Clockwork Orange where anti-hero but main character Alex is contributing to the downfall of the good parts of society, The story usually centers on a protagonist who questions the society, often feeling intuitively that something is terribly wrong, such as Winston Smith in 1984, or V from Alan Moore's V for Vendetta. The hero comes to believe that escape or even overturning the social order is possible and decides to act at the risk of life and limb; in some utopias, this may appear as irrational even to him, but he still acts.

A popular archetype of hero in the more modern dystopian literature is the Vonnegut hero, a hero who is in high-standing within the social system, but sees how wrong everything is, and attempts to either change the system or bring it down, such as Paul Proteus of Kurt Vonnegut's novel Player Piano.


The Conflict
In many cases, the hero's conflict brings him to a representative of the dystopia who articulates its principles, from Mustapha Mond in Brave New World to O'Brien in 1984.

There is usually a group of people somewhere in the society who are not under the complete control of the state, and in whom the hero of the novel usually puts his or her hope, although often he or she still fails to change anything. In Orwell's 1984 they are the "proles" (Latin for "offspring", from which "proletariat" is derived), in Huxley's Brave New World they are the people on the reservation, and in We by Zamyatin they are the people outside the walls of the One State. In Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, they are the "book people" past the river and outside the city.


Climax and dénouement
The hero's goal is either escape or destruction of the social order. However, the story is often (but not always) unresolved. That is, the narrative may deal with individuals in a dystopian society who are unsatisfied, and may rebel, but ultimately fail to change anything. Sometimes they themselves end up changed to conform to the society's norms. This narrative arc to a sense of hopelessness can be found in such classic dystopian works as 1984. It contrasts with much fiction of the future, in which a hero succeeds in resolving conflicts or otherwise changing things for the better.

The destruction of dystopia is frequently a very different sort of work than one in which it is preserved. Poul Anderson's short story "Sam Hall" depicts the subversion of a dystopia heavily dependent on surveillance. Robert A. Heinlein's "If This Goes On—" liberates the United States from a fundamentalist theocracy, where the underground rebellion is organized by the Freemasons. Cordwainer Smith's The Rediscovery of Man series depicts a society recovering from its dystopian period, beginning in "The Dead Lady of Clown Town" with the discovery that its utopia was impossible to maintain. Although these and other societies are typical of dystopias in many ways, they all have not only flaws but exploitable flaws. The ability of the protagonists to subvert the society also subverts the monolithic power typical of a dystopia. In some cases the hero manages to overthrow the dystopia by motivating the (previously apathetic) populace. In the dystopian video game Half-Life 2 the downtrodden citizens of City 17 rally around the figure of Gordon Freeman and overthrow their Combine opressors.

If destruction of the dystopia is not possible, escape may be, if the dystopia does not control the world. In Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, the main character succeeds in fleeing and finding tramps who have dedicated themselves to memorizing books to preserve them. In the book Logan's Run, the main characters make their way to an escape from the otherwise inevitable euthanasia on their 21st birthday (30th in the later film version). Because such dystopias must necessarily control less of the world than the protagonist can reach, and the protagonist can elude capture, this motif also subverts the dystopia's power. In Lois Lowry's The Giver the main character Jonas is able to run away from 'The Community' and escapes to 'Elsewhere' where people have memories.

Sometimes, this escape leads to the inevitable: The protagonist making a mistake that usually brings about the end of a rebel society, usually living where people think is a legend. This concept is brought to life in Scott Westerfeld's novel Uglies. The main character accidentally brings the government into the secret settlement of the Smoke. She then infiltrates the government to escape, but chooses to join the society for the greater good.

Occasionally, the escape from dystopia is made possible by time travel and changing history. Marge Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time, though chiefly concerned with the protagonist's time-travel to a future utopia, also has her travel to a dystopia, and in the current time, stymies the efforts that will lead to that future. Poul Anderson's The Corridors of Time has a protagonist recruited by one future society to fight another, dystopian one; learning that both societies are dystopian (in very different ways), he acts to prevent either one gaining the upper hand in their time-traveling wars, enabling the future emergence of a utopian state. In its time, such a dystopia can be quite as powerful as any other. However, the time travel necessarily moves portions of the story, and usually quite large portions, out of the time of the dystopia, making it less an overwhelming presence in the novel. Finally, the film La Jetée (and, to a lesser degree, the La Jetée-inspired Twelve Monkeys) involves the protagonist's travel through time both into the future and the (as of 1962) present-day, in the hope of saving his dystopian present.


Resonance
For the reader to engage with it, dystopian fiction typically has one other trait: familiarity. It is not enough to show people living in a society that seems unpleasant. The society must have echoes of today, of the reader's own experience. If the reader can identify the patterns or trends that would lead to the dystopia, it becomes a more involving and effective experience. Authors can use a dystopia effectively to highlight their own concerns about societal trends. For example, Ayn Rand wrote Anthem as a warning against what she saw as the subordination of individual human beings to the state or "the We." Margaret Atwood wrote The Handmaid's Tale as a warning against the rise of what she saw as religious fundamentalism in the United States and the hypocrisy of 1970s feminism actually aiding the cause of their worst enemies.


One Negative Book Review





Excessive Candour

Croaked


By John Clute

from http://www.scifi.com/sfw/issue325/excess.html


It was good luck that I began to read Margaret Atwood's new SF novel on an international flight, because there was little else to do, seven miles above Newfoundland, 200 pages of arthritic backstory already caught in the throat, no end in sight and hardly a glimpse of Oryx, except to continue turning the page. So the book remained open, and we reached page 216, and Atwood, who had clearly been taking the capsules, suddenly calmed down enough to begin to tell the archaic First SF story she had been pretending she was never going to have to bend her brow to, even though she never did leave backstory till the last few pages (see below for comments on trahison des clercs). Oryx and Crake may be the kind of SF contemporary writers stopped committing to print after 1970 or so, and Atwood may have told her ancient tale in a priggish atonal drone that sounded rather, as P.G. Wodehouse once famously said, "like an Englishman about to talk French"—but hey, she got to the end, and so did the reader. With a bump and a grind and a whine of great engines in reverse, we did all land safely, after a fashion.

Trahison des clercs is a term which has escaped the narrow political intentions of its coiner, the right-wing theologue Julien Benda, and is now commonly used to describe almost any sort of intellectual treachery on the part of that class—the "clercs" or clerisy, the guardians and disseminators of higher culture—one of whose obligations is to tell the truth. It may be a bit high-sounding to describe what Margaret Atwood has said about Oryx and Crake in various interviews as manifestations of the trahison des clercs, but, in their own small priggish way, these interviews are, in fact, pretty offensive.

In an extremely well-argued Locus review of Oryx and Crake, Gary K. Wolfe treats Atwood's claims—that she does not write SF, that Oryx and Crake is not SF at all because SF is "about spaceships" and squiggly things, and that she writes "speculative fiction" instead, though without mentioning Robert A. Heinlein, who first used that term half a century ago—as quite possibly representing a natural aversion to the less attractive aspects of genre marketing; that "she's not demeaning the SF market so much as protecting the Atwood market." I believe this is almost certainly the case. But words do have consequences, even words Atwood well may have taken down verbatim from the publisher and parroted. Atwood's utterances, made in public to the world, are palpably untrue or misleading, and every slurry in the face of honest discourse damages that fragile world, even untruths about forms of literature. More to the final point of this review, it is possible to say as well that, insofar as her utterances manifest an interior occlusion of intellect, they help explain the abjectly bad bits of Oryx and Crake, the sclerotic exiguity of its backstory, the miserly belatedness of the future it depicts.

The future is not now, and perhaps never was

We do not ever find out exactly when Oryx and Crake's protagonist, who calls himself Snowman, begins to try to put in order his memories of watching other people cause the end of the rest of the human race on extremely time-honored SF lines, but one's best guess is that Snowman—short for Abominable Snowman—may begin his ruminations only a few months after the climax of the novel (remember, everything that really happens in Oryx and Crake happens in backstory, and is distanced into a kind of weakly ironized hearsay). So the deserted, ruined world Snowman walks through may be only 30 or 40 years into our future. Certainly it's the case that his memories of his early life sound as though Atwood thinks of him as growing up round about 2010, somewhere on the eastern seaboard of North America, though locations are left as unspecific as the years. The only city given a name is New York, though by the moment of final collapse the city is known (lamely) as New New York, presumably because of the upheavals caused by the rising sea (Atwood never specifies). And it is here, in her descriptions of the world snowman experiences as a child, that we begin to sense the costs to Atwood's text of her occluded take on what she is actually writing.

Young Snowman grows up in a company-town gated community surrounded by "pleeblands" where all the non-privileged live in squalid tenements. His family is dysfunctional. Dad commutes daily to his job with an ominous biotech firm, Ma goes increasingly rancid from disuse, and Snowman sneaks peeks at the Net with his schoolmate, the brilliant young Crake, whom he adores. The dysfunctional nuclear family reminds one of Sloan Wilson (or Rock Hudson). The satire on consumption-based admass capitalism, replete with appalling fake brand names, reminds one of Kurt Vonnegut or Frederik Pohl or Shepherd Mead in 1955; fatally, Oryx and Crake does not homage any more recent satirical take on modern life. The gated communities are pale shadows of the "keeps" adumbrated in the 1940s by Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore and brought brilliantly up to date in The Song of the Earth (2001) by Hugh Nissensen—a writer, like Atwood, not usually associated with SF; but one, unlike Atwood, who proved capable of doing his homework (we will return to homework in a minute). The pleeblands (an astonishingly inept formulation, which might have been marginally improved, and certainly made easier to subvocalize, had she spelled it correctly) are out of any of a dozen Ace Doubles from around 1960, maybe by John Brunner or Robert Silverberg or Philip K. Dick when they were beating pulp between spasms of genius. And Atwood's vision of the future of the Internet has to be experienced to be believed:


When they weren't playing [seriously old-fashioned computer] games they'd surf the Net—drop in on old favourites, see what was new. They'd watch open-heart surgery in live time, or else the Noodie News. ... Or they'd watch animal snuff sites, Felicia's Frog Squash and the like. ... Or they'd watch dirtysockpuppets.com, a current-affairs show about world political leaders. ... Or they might watch hedsoff.com, which played live coverage of executions. ... Shortcircuit.com, brainfrizz.com, and deathrowlive.com were the best; they showed electrocutions and lethal injections....

"What is this shit?" said Crake. "Channel change!"


And so on, and it becomes increasingly clear that Atwood's got something deeply wrong here—that she's satirizing yesterday in the language of the day before yesterday, 1990 in the language of 1960; and that she's not taking her sci-fi potshots at the Net at all, but at cable television.

So, in the end, Atwood is absolutely correct when she claims not to be writing SF, if by SF in this context we are meant to understand novels set in the near future by writers like Bruce Sterling or Brian Stableford or Ted Chiang or Terry Bisson or William Gibson or Neal Stephenson or Don DeLillo, whose brilliant, savagely misunderstood Cosmopolis (2003), though set in 2000, occupies an information-radiated world far closer to the fractal edge of the actual present tense than Atwood's wooden-tongued vision of a pretentiously undated metaphorical Next. Balked by some seemingly unaddressable refusal to do her homework in the ways the 21st century is actually being made storyable by writers who have gone to school, Atwood is of course not writing contemporary SF about the near future, which is one of the most difficult and learned creative enterprises—hard-to-master regions of the imagination—a writer can envisage, now that the human race has become isomorphous with the data that iterate the real; what Atwood is in fact writing is sci-fi about the near future as envisioned by Hollywood. Her sisters and brothers of the cloth are not Sterling or Stephenson but the beleaguered souls who novelize Star Trek or Star Wars in obedience to bibles that constrain them to a view of the world as deeply retro as the world we encounter in Oryx and Crake, as Christopher Walken's son encounters in Blast from the Past.

An open book that should be open and shut

But most of the examples of occluded grasp occur before page 216 (in all English-language editions). And even before we reach that page we begin to find out what we had already surmised—that something or someone is about to pull the plug on Homo sapiens. Crake matriculates into the Watson-Crick Institute, where he is given everything from lab space to whores, while the far less intelligent Snowman (whose real name is Jimmy) goes to the Martha Graham Academy in New York, which is limned in colours evocative of Thomas M. Disch's great On Wings of Song (1979). There are some genuinely good jokes, which Atwood clearly makes on those occasions when she is able to forget what she is refusing to admit. And there are the Crakers.

We had met them early on, but it is really only in retrospect that we—and, one suspects, Atwood—begin to find them of much interest. They turn out to be a gene-crafted race of post-humans that Crake has designed as inheritors of the earth. They are passive and peaceful; a Craker female will enter estrus only every 18 months or so, at which point a small Morris dance of males uplift their penises together in a kind of Mexican Wave and shepherd her into a handy alcove where, one at a time, they blamelessly couple; they are vegetarian; they do not have any use for words; they are smooth outside and smooth inside. Snowman acts as a kind of pro tem God/Moses/Messenger for them, and the novel closes at a moment of narrative suspension: for it is not at all clear to not over-bright Snowman that they will survive their inevitable encounters with other humans less tenderhearted than he is.

For Snowman is not the only survivor of Crake's double-pronged assault upon the world (I have not forgotten Oryx any more than Atwood seems to have for most of the book; she is a young whore from an unnamed Far Eastern country, rather like the protagonists of two or three of Geoff Ryman's better early novels about young girls growing up in utterly cruel worlds transformed by genetic engineering; she is Crake's special woman; she becomes Snowman's lover for a while; there is little more to say). Other humans have proved immune to the viral plague Crake has engineered and transmits worldwide (there is a presumed homage here to La Jetee, from which 12 Monkeys was made; or perhaps to James Tiptree Jr.'s "The Last Flight of Doctor Ain" from 1972). We meet these humans at the end of the tale. We do not really know what to make of them, and before we can hazard much of a guess, Atwood shuts her book on a slingshot.

So there have been moments of recovery. The devastated catastrophe-ridden world Crake wipes clear of humanity is pungently described. Snowman's solitary life in this new desert is sharply imagined. Oryx is clearly beautiful, and clearly beyond the understanding of anyone in the text; or of the text itself, which cannot allow too much reality into its cod-dystopian remit, into its sci-fi-in-bondage gaze upward from the deep past toward the aged props of yesterday. Like some fossil jewel, Oryx and Crake does shine moistly for an instant under the tap, when its author forgets herself, before it falls back into the sands of time, which cover it. When we shut the book, it is as though it had never been.


John Clute is a writer, editor, critic and scholar of science fiction. His first novel for 25 years, Appleseed, was a New York Times Notable Book for 2002. He is the author of Science Fiction: The Illustrated Encyclopedia and co-editor of both The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction and The Encyclopedia of Fantasy, all Hugo Award winners. His criticism and reviews have appeared in The New York Times. The Washington Post, Omni, F&SF and elsewhere. Much of this material has been collected in Strokes: Reviews and Essays 1966-1986, Look at the Evidence: Reviews and Essays, and the forthcoming Scores: Reviews 1993-2003, which will include the first 76 "Excessive Candour" columns and other pieces. Also forthcoming is An Historical Dictionary of Horror Literature.

Positive Book Reviews

These reviews and several others available at
http://www.bookreporter.com/reviews/0385721676.asp

Reveiw #1 by Kathy Weissman

The best fantasy is the kind that reads like a mystery: you start inside one person's head --- in this case, the addled, tortured, highly intelligent brain of a man named Jimmy, a.k.a. Snowman, apparently the only human survivor of a worldwide biological catastrophe --- and gradually pick up clues about the society in which he lived. In THE HANDMAID'S TALE, Booker Prize winner Margaret Atwood used religious fundamentalism gone mad as the basis for her imagined culture of the future. In ORYX AND CRAKE, her new novel, it is science and industry --- profit-driven and amoral --- that have run amok. Although there is a murder (actually, two) at the end, there is no real suspense around whodunit; it's the complex and horrifying how that keeps you reading this science-fiction tour de force.

When we first meet Snowman, he is living like a wild man --- sleeping in trees to avoid the voracious pigoons (a pig/baboon cross originally bred to supply organs for human transplant but that has now multiplied and is running wild), dressed in a bed sheet, subsisting on what he can scavenge from the wrecked landscape. He serves as father figure and demigod for the Crakers, a tribe of not quite humans (also products of the lab, they're kind of like a collective Adam and Eve) camped nearby. Snowman's struggle to survive is punctuated by lengthy autobiographical flashbacks describing society as it was before the advent of the plague known as JUNE (SARS or AIDS, anyone?), when his name was still Jimmy.

Jimmy grows up with his father, a genetic specialist, and his unhappy, rebellious mother in a heavily guarded Compound, one of the corporate city-states that house the elite of the mid-to-late twenty-first century. Outside the gates are the untidy, dangerous pleeblands, where the masses dwell. Atwood's disturbing vision is implicitly a commentary on how we live now: the rich and poor are literally two nations, weather patterns have gone nuts, cyberspace features untrammeled sex and real-time executions, bio-industrial giants manipulate nature in the name of progress, and anybody who doesn't get with the program (like Jimmy's mom) is a security threat.

Although he's bright, cynical, amusing and sexy, Jimmy isn't one of the leading minds of his generation; that privilege belongs to Crake, his best friend at HelthWyzer High. Together they surf sex-and-murder sites and play computer games: Blood and Roses (civilization vs. barbarism) and Extinctathon, in which players name themselves after dead species (like the Red-necked Crake). Their paths diverge when Jimmy goes to college at Martha Graham Academy, a rundown, marginalized former bastion of the arts, while Crake gets into Watson-Crick, which caters to budding scientists. Crake later becomes a leading light of the RejoovenEsense Compound (Atwood has a ball with names), whose products include a youth-prolonging pill called BlyssPlus and the Paradice Project, where bioengineered humans, or Crakers, serve as prototypes for customized populations with pre-selected features (beauty, docility, disease resistance).

He locates Jimmy, toiling as a copywriter at a crummy Compound called AnooYou, and hires him to handle the ad campaign. And there is a love interest, the mysterious Oryx, first sighted by the boys in their teenage years on a kiddie-porn website, now a teacher and guide for the Crakers and a BlyssPlus saleswoman. Beautiful, superior, attainable yet curiously elusive, she and Crake are foils (and, perhaps, surrogate parents-cum-lovers) for the all-too-human Jimmy, whose father is an emotional cipher and his mother a victim of the Compounds' totalitarian "justice."

It's difficult to write science fiction that isn't didactic and cerebral; classics of the genre often are celebrated more for their moral and social acumen than for their literary splendor. ORYX AND CRAKE contains plenty of dazzling prose and good old-fashioned suspenseful storytelling, but it also has "cautionary tale" written all over it. The characters have a tendency to become mouthpieces, especially Crake (pure intellect) and Oryx (pure sensation); even Jimmy/Snowman's defense of art, love and other almost-obsolete institutions is a bit predictable. Yet Atwood's heart --- and ours --- is clearly with this endearing survivor; he is a rich character in his own right as well as her argument for an enduring core of humanity, messy and illogical, in the midst of barbarism.

One of Jimmy/Snowman's most memorable characteristics is his passion for language (Craker and the other success stories of the modern age are numbers people). While in college he starts compiling lists of words no longer used: "He'd developed a strangely tender feeling toward such words, as if they were children abandoned in the woods and it was his duty to rescue them." Words of all sorts, precise and evocative, run through his head as he struggles to make sense of the post-plague world. They come to represent something much larger, something like a soul --- he holds on to words as if they could stave off death and/or the end of civilization; he thinks of himself as a castaway and contemplates keeping a journal. The irony is that the only other people on earth seem to be the Crakers, who are illiterate. "Any reader he can possibly imagine is in the past."

This reader emerged from ORYX AND CRAKE as from a nightmare, glad there are still words and books like this one to warn us of catastrophe and comfort us with love.

--- Reviewed by Kathy Weissman

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Reveiw #2 by Shannon Bloomstran

Margaret Atwood is brilliant. There I said it … got it right out there in the open. She's not content to give us insight into situations so often mined by contemporary authors, dysfunctional families or the love affairs of the angst-ridden. Her novels give us entire worlds, albeit some pretty dystopian ones, right down to the flora and fauna. Her latest undertaking, ORYX AND CRAKE, is no exception.

In this world, humanity has been reduced to one human and a group of human "floor models," genetically engineered to be beautiful, placid and drop dead at the age of 30. Atwood takes us on a journey into the not-so-distant future where the last human, who calls himself Snowman, leads us back into the roots of the cataclysm that has reduced the Earth to rubble. Part of the novel's intensity lies in the fact that the readers know what has happened, they just don't know how … something Snowman does know and in fact, played a major role in. The unfolding lacks the structural intricacy of Atwood's last novel, THE BLIND ASSASSIN, but it is nonetheless exhilarating.

Snowman, then known as Jimmy, grows up in a North America dominated by corporations, calling to mind the old nineteenth-century company towns. The companies house their workers in villages known as Compounds and provide for their every need, literally from cradle to grave. Jimmy's particular Compound is run by an outfit that engineers, among other things, "pigoons," animals that could grow "an assortment of foolproof human-tissue organs in a transgenic knockout pig host-organs that would transplant smoothly and avoid rejection." Atwood manages to make these and many other scientific descriptions not only understandable, but also thrilling and shocking at the same time. Jimmy grows up in this cloned and spliced society, never quite fitting in, finding only a measure of friendship with an unusual boy named Glenn who soon adopts the moniker Crake, an extinct Australian bird. The novel follows the lives of Jimmy and Crake as they enter university and flounder (Jimmy) or flourish (Crake).

After graduation, while Jimmy toils writing copy for inane self-help products, Crake uses his oily and arrogant intelligence to ostensibly better society. His company, RejoovenEsense, humbly aims to "eliminate the external causes of death.War.contagious disease, especially sexually transmitted ones. Overpopulation.environmental degradation and poor nutrition." They hope to achieve these goals with the distribution of the BlyssPluss Pill, which gives an "unlimited supply of libido" while prolonging youth and protecting against all sexually transmitted diseases. Oh, and it would also render anyone who took it irreversibly sterile, but they choose not to advertise that little fact. Atwood deftly wheedles the reader into complying with the grotesque ambitions of Crake and RejoovenEsense. End war and disease as we know it? With endless and inconsequential sexuality thrown in? Where do I sign up? Jimmy himself signs on to be the chief ad-man for BlyssPluss.

In an intensely thought provoking "what if?" scenario, Atwood has us ponder the nature of life itself. Crake's biggest project "creates totally chosen babies that would incorporate any feature, physical, mental or spiritual, that the buyer might wish to select. Beauty.docility.UV-resistant skin.ability to digest unrefined plant material." Jimmy dubs these life forms Crakers --- beautiful, strong, placid beings that are shepherded into a society by the beautiful former Internet porn star, Oryx, whom Jimmy has fantasized about for years. Jimmy and Oryx fall into some sort of love, adding yet another layer of meaning to the story. Jimmy promises Oryx he will take care of the Crakers, should anything happen to Oryx or Crake, just a little bit of ominous foreshadowing.

Throughout the unfolding of Jimmy's story, Atwood brings us back to the "present," as we see Jimmy, who now thinks of himself as Snowman, try to survive in a world of scorching heat, little food, and nasty animals like pigoons and wolvogs. In order to better his chances of survival, Snowman journeys back to the RejoovenEsense compound, ostensibly to find food and weapons but also to revisit the scene of the world's downfall. Crake's manufactured world starts to cave in with the onset of a killer virus that spreads like wildfire. Various world governments try, ineffectively, to contain the disease by quarantining off cities and issuing travel bans. Gee, good thing nothing like that could ever happen in the "real world."

Atwood asks plenty of difficult questions and provides absolutely no answers. She's one of the very few contemporary novelists who leads, rather than pulls, the reader into a more heightened state of social awareness. The "lady or the tiger" ending has the reader analyze not only the issues raised by the novel, but also his or her core beliefs as well. What else could that be but brilliant?

--- Reviewed by Shannon Bloomstran

Friday, February 1, 2008

Context--Global Warming, Hurricanes

Atwood mentions global warming, increased weather disasters, strengthened hurricanes, and rising sea levels in Oryx and Crake. This video features images from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina with the Tears for Fears song "Mad World."

Biography


Margaret Atwood was born in Ottawa, Ontario, in 1939. She is the daughter of a forest entomologist, and spent part of her early years in the bush of North Quebec. She moved, at the age of seven, to Toronto. She studied at the University of Toronto, then took her masters degree at Radcliffe College, Massachusetts, in 1962.

She is Canada's most eminent novelist and poet, and also writes short stories, critical studies, screenplays, radio scripts and books for children, her works having been translated into over 30 languages. Her reviews and critical articles have appeared in various eminent magazines and she has also edited many books, including The New Oxford Book of Canadian Verse in English (1983) and, with Robert Weaver, The Oxford Book of Canadian Short Stories in English (1986). She has been a full-time writer since 1972, first teaching English, then holding a variety of academic posts and writer residencies. She was President of the Writers Union of Canada from 1981-1982 and President of PEN, Canada from 1984-1986.

She is perhaps best known for her novels, in which she creates strong, often enigmatic, women characters and excels in telling open-ended stories, while dissecting contemporary urban life and sexual politics. Her first novel was The Edible Woman (1969), about a woman who cannot eat and feels that she is being eaten. This was followed by: Surfacing (1973), which deals with a woman's investigation into her father's disappearance; Lady Oracle (1977); Life Before Man (1980); Bodily Harm (1982), the story of Rennie Wilford, a young journalist recuperating on a Caribbean island; and The Handmaid's Tale (1986), a futuristic novel describing a woman's struggle to break free from her role. Her latest novels have been: Cat's Eye (1989), dealing with the subject of bullying among young girls; The Robber Bride (1993); Alias Grace (1996), the tale of a woman who is convicted for her involvement in two murders about which she claims to have no memory; The Blind Assassin (2000), a multi-layered family memoir; and Oryx and Crake (2003), a vision of a scientific dystopia, which was shortlisted for the 2003 Man Booker Prize for Fiction and for the 2004 Orange Prize for Fiction.

These novels have received many awards. Alias Grace, The Handmaid's Tale and Cat's Eye have all been shortlisted for the Booker Prize for Fiction. The Blind Assassin was successful in winning this prize in 2000.

Critical Perspective

It is hard to believe it now, but there was a time, and it was not that long ago, when Canadian literature was something of a joke, particularly in the USA, where mocking the Northern neighbours is a national pastime. Few books were published, and fewer still were taken seriously by the English-speaking literary community. Then Margaret Atwood arrived. Her first novel The Edible Woman (1969), which many saw as a critique of women's role within society, was notable for its use of irony and metaphor. Her passionate and irreverent book Survival: A Thematic Guide to Canadian Literature (1972) in which she called for her compatriots to value their own experience as Canadians, did much to boost a neglected country. Forty years on and things are very different. In the last decade, Michael Ondaatje, Yann Martel (and Margaret Atwood herself) have all won the Booker Prize for Fiction. The late Carol Shields won the Pulitzer Prize for her novel The Stone Diaries and writers such as Rohinton Mistry, Douglas Coupland and Alice Munro have won an international following. However, there is no doubting that Atwood is the true diamond.

Margaret Atwood is the kind of writer for whom hyperbole seems an understatement. An icon in Canada, astonishingly prolific and famously abrasive in interview, she mixes high intelligence with a natural dry wit that leaves many a journalist foundering. Atwood has proved herself to be a writer whose acuity, lyricism and versatility are almost unmatched. She writes with wit and intellectual flair and seems able to turn her hand to anything from bildungsroman in Cat's Eye (1989), to Orwellian dystopia in The Handmaid's Tale (1986). Unlike those authors who peter out after a burst of early brilliance, Atwood's creative power shows no sign of diminishing.

[Notes on Oryx and Crake:]

Atwood's latest novel, Oryx and Crake, (2003), short-listed for the 2003 Man Booker Prize for Fiction, is a cautionary tale set in a future in which genetic science, climate change and social inequality have laid waste to civilisation. Featuring a male protagonist for the very first time, the novel is once more a puzzle in which the reader spends a great deal of time unsure of what is happening. In that sense, it is vintage Atwood. Although Oryx and Crake has been described as a work of science fiction, Atwood herself prefers to see it as 'speculative fiction' - her definition of the latter being that it doesn't feature any space ships.

From http://www.contemporarywriters.com/authors/?p=auth03C18N390512635243

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Discussion Questions

The following discussion questions are taken from http://www.oryxandcrake.co.uk/readingguide.asp

1. Oryx and Crake includes many details that seem futuristic, but are already apparent in our world. What parallels were you able to draw between your own world and that of the novel?

2. Margaret Atwood coined many words and brand names while writing the novel. In what way has technology changed your vocabulary over the past five years?

3. The game 'Extinctathon' emerges as a key component in the novel. Jimmy and Crake also play 'Barbarian Stomp' and 'Blood and Roses'. What comparable video games do you know of? Discuss the advantages and dangers of virtual reality. Is the novel form itself a sort of virtual reality?

4. If you were creating the game 'Blood and Roses', what other 'Blood' items would you add? What other 'Rose' items?

5. If you had the chance to fabricate an improved human being, would you do it? If so, what features would you choose to incorporate? Why would these be better than what we've got? Your model must of course be biologically viable.

6. The pre-catastrophic society in Oryx and Crake is fixated on physical perfection and longevity, much as our own society is. Discuss the irony of these quests, both within the novel and in our own society.

7. One aspect of the novel's society is the virtual elimination of the middle class. Economic and intellectual disparities, as well as the disappearance of safe public space, allow for few alternatives: People live either in the tightly controlled Compounds of the elites, or in the more open but seedier and more dangerous Pleeblands. Where would your community find itself in the world of Oryx and Crake?

8. Snowman soon discovers that despite himself he's invented a new creation myth, simply by trying to think up comforting answers to the "why" questions of the Children of Crake. In Part Seven — the chapter entitled 'Purring' — Crake claims that "God is a cluster of neurons," though he's had trouble eradicating religious experiences without producing zombies. Do you agree with Crake? Do Snowman's origin stories negate or enhance your views on spirituality and how it evolves among various cultures?

9. How might the novel change if narrated by Oryx? Do any similarities exist between her early life and Snowman's? Do you always believe what she says?

10. Why does Snowman feel compelled to protect the benign Crakers, who can't understand him and can never be his close friends? Do you believe that the Crakers would be capable of survival in our own society?

11. In the world of Oryx and Crake, almost everything is for sale, and a great deal of power is now in the hands of large corporations and their private security forces. There are already more private police in North America than there are public ones. What are the advantages of such a system? What are the dangers?

12. In what ways does the dystopia of Oryx and Crake compare to those depicted in novels such as Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, and in Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale? What is the difference between speculative fiction — which Atwood claims to write — and science fiction proper?

13. The book has two epigraphs, one from Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels and one from Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. Why do you think these were chosen?

14. The ending of the novel is open, allowing for tantalising speculation. How do you envision Snowman's future? What about the future of humanity-both within the novel, and outside its pages?

Bibliography


Fiction

The Edible Woman
Surfacing
Lady Oracle
Dancing Girls
Life Before Man
Bodily Harm
Murder in the Dark
Bluebeard's Egg
The Handmaid's Tale
Cat's Eye
Wilderness Tips
Good Bones
The Robber Bride
Alias Grace
The Blind Assassin
Oryx and Crake
The Tent

Children's Books

Up in the Tree
Anna's Pet (with Joyce Barkhouse)
For the Birds
Princess Prunella and the Purple Peanut

Non-Fiction

Survival: A Thematic Guide to Canadian Literature
Days of the Rebels 1815—1840
Second Words
Strange Things: The Malevolent North in Canadian Literature
Two Solicitudes: Conversations (with Victor-Levy Beaulieu)
Negotiating with the Dead

Poetry

Double Persephone
The Circle Game
The Animals in That Country
The Journals of Susanna Moodie
Procedures for Underground
Power Politics
You Are Happy
Selected Poems
Two-headed Poems
True Stories
Interlunar
Selected Poems II: Poems Selected and New 1976—1986
Morning in the Burned House

from http://www.bloomsbury.com/authors/microsite.asp?section=1&id=1