August 2009

World in the Satin Bag

Reader Question: The Alien Exit

/

Mercy from Young Writers Online had this interesting question to ask: Why does everyone resort to aliens in recent sci-fi/gov/end of the world movies? Because aliens are easy. People do not question aliens as the villains, because, despite all our efforts to acknowledge our difficulty in understanding and dealing with the human/Other dichotomy, we are still as xenophobic as ever, regardless of race or gender. Aliens represent the ultimate Other, the figure that is so clearly not human, that any human argument cannot figure them into a human version of the human/Other dichotomy. Similar logic allows for the continued discrimination against animals—because they are not “human,” and, thus, do not, under any circumstance, deserve the same rights as you or me. We are human, they are not, and no matter how hard you might want to argue for their humanness, we will always refute it with DNA evidence, a factor we can no longer use to apply to people of color (no logical genetic variations exist in the various “races” to adequately provide evidence for the argument that we are different). The alien, thus, is the easiest target to choose, especially in harder times. Hollywood is remarkable at knowing viewer trends. They have people somewhere who watch viewer habits to determine how they will react to movies under different situations. It seems that they have determined that we really don’t need any more instances of human error in our end of the world stories, or even in a lot of our science fiction (w/ exception to certain movies). Aliens offer a way out, a way of saying “now you have a bad guy who doesn’t exist, who, as far as we, cannot actually harm any of you or do any of the things in our movie.” After all, why worry about the rights of imaginary creatures? Why indeed. They’re aliens. Fictional aliens. There’s no need for us to ponder the possibility of their existence, nor how we might treat them if, by a stroke of luck, we meet one of these strange creatures. But, to be fair to Hollywood, they are on a remake kick, and much of the films that fit into this category of “the aliens did it” are re-imagined tellings of old movies, such as The Day the Earth Stood Still and even Knowing, which was not a direct remake, but certainly a rehash of a story that has been told numerous times before (heck, even Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke has an ending which reflects very much the bizarre final moments of that Nicholas Cage flick). These are my arguments, though, and certainly not absolutes. Anyone reading this is welcome to chime in if you have a different opinion (or the same opinion). Just be thankful that we’re not resorting to old giant monster clichés…oh, nevermind, there was Cloverfield, a bastardization of the genre by the evil and craptastic J. J. Abrams. Seems like science fiction movies are in full rehash mode. ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!

World in the Satin Bag

Fantasy is Colonial, Modern Science Fiction is Postcolonial?

/

Examining trends in genre fiction is an impossible task. Fantasy and science fiction are constantly moving, the latter more so than the former, and yet I have been noticing something within both genres (a shifting theme for the latter, and a staple for the former) that I want to examine and understand. Readers are welcome to challenge me on this, and in fact I hope you do, because I have not been reading in these genres as long as some of you have, and you may, as a result, see trends and themes differently. One tendency I have seen in fantasy is that of the building or collapsing of empires/nations/peoples via a colonialist or imperialist method. Recent examples include The House of the Stag by Kage Baker and even Karen Miller’s The Innocent Mage/The Awakened Mage duology, along with a great many epic fantasy series, in which invasions of empires play a prominent role. Villians, thus, tend to be imperialist in nature, interested in one of two things: 1) the subjugation or destruction of a people, and 2) the acquirement of new properties (i.e. land) for an existing or emerging empire. Looking back brings us to The Lord of the Rings, which contains an example of a colonialist extermination/enslavement that ultimately fails, except insomuch as the Hobbits are concerned, since they are not only colonized by the forces of Mordor (or, more specifically, Saruman’s forces, if memory serves me), but also subjugated as a people. Science fiction, however, has a shifting agenda. Its early and middle-aged works focused heavily, as I have described before, on imperialist or colonial issues, particularly in relation to galactic empires. Some newer works have done much the same, such as Old Man’s War by John Scalzi and a handful of other authors doing what might be called “tribute” works, though no offense is meant by that term. But recent developments seem to point to a more postcolonial approach. By that, I mean that the story deals more with the after effects of a cultural rupture in which the colonist, whoever that might be, has either ceded control to the indigenous body, or collapsed its colonialist structure and turned into something less concerned with matters of empire and more concerned with what you might call “traditional governing.” So, the colonized may not longer be colonized because the colonizer is no longer there, or because power has shifted, for whatever reason, so that the colonialist structure no longer exists (though the latter is, for all intensive purposes, a rarity even in our world). The best example I can think of this occurring is in Tobias S. Buckell’s novel Sly Mongoose, which, while not always directly focused on the fallen empire, manages to offer a science fiction view of the end of empires and what the colonized goes through to survive or re-establish control. There’s a certain brutality to it, because Buckell’s novel is not set in a world that is distant from its colonial past. Other novels, I’m sure, exist, though I have to admit that I am blanking on them at this time. The point of this is that there seems to be a far more likelihood of postcolonialism existing within science fiction as a theme than there is for fantasy. Fantasy seems to be occupied with the act of colonizing, in some for of another, while science fiction seems to want to dismantle the colonial structure. It seems fitting that fantasy cannot imagine its postcolonial future, and that its cousin genre must do so. One reflects an imagined past, a medieval fantasy (outside of urban fantasy), while the other is almost always looking forward. The genres compliment one another, even if it was never meant for them to do so.

World in the Satin Bag

Reader Question: English, the Ultimate Tongue

/

Bowie from Young Writers Online recently asked the following: Why do all aliens speak some form of English? Well, the truth is that aliens exist within a strange temporal distortion in which they are exposed to English before human beings even exist, so when they come knocking, they are not only fluent in the language, but technologically far more advanced than us apes. As strange as that sounds, that’s exactly what has happened. You see, scientists propose that Bubble Theory may be the next big thing in physics. It proposes that all sentient beings live in little temporal bubbles that are designed to make sure certain species are younger than others when such species figure out how to enter other bubbles. As you know, there’s a quasi temporal node that exists between the subspace platinum barrier of quantum erasure, and other confusing technojargon. But of course all of the above is a load of horse manure. The reason aliens almost always speak some form of English is due to a need by the writer to engage the reader or viewer. English has, for good and for bad, become the dominant language on this planet, and is the language of the more dominant pop-culture nations (U.S., U.K., and even India). Throw into the mix the fact that most of the world’s T.V. and book consumers (and the world’s largest markets for such products) happen to communicate almost exclusively in English and you really have no way around the reality that English is a human identifier. Writers know this, either on a simplistic or complex level, and often use this knowledge to create certain literary or film conditions–namely sympathy. Aliens who speak unknown or even harsh sounding languages have a tendency to be viewed as the enemy and unlikable by most viewing audiences. This stems from early science fiction movies and stories that dealt less with the complex inner workings of alien species and more with the monstrous and evil nature of the inhuman (see Patricia Kerslake’s Science Fiction and Empire for more information on that, if memory serves me correctly). Battlestar Galactica is a show that is fully aware of this, hence why it does not deal with aliens or creatures that are incapable of communicating with the humans in the show (and the audience). And there is even a dichotomy within BSG. Take, for example, the centurians, who are somewhat humanoid, but quite clearly not human, and also are incapable of speaking in human language. As such, they must relay all information through their humanoid “superiors” (the flesh-and-blood clones). The result? The centurians are not, until the very end of the movie, given any serious consideration beyond declaring them “the villains.” Viewers, however, do feel sympathy for the cloned models, because they are not only human-looking, but emotionally complex. Language plays a big role in that, because while it is true that they are, at times, seemingly monstrous, they still can relay to the characters and to us their deeper emotions. We can feel for them because they can express something to us that doesn’t immediately translate to “evil.” The same is true of other instances of English-injected alien encounters. Language plays a remarkable role in creating the conditions of sympathy/empathy/etc. But I could go on for much longer than I think is appropriate for one post on this subject. If you have a different opinion on this matter, feel free to let me know in the comments. This subject is really one that could do with some serious, critical attention, and I bet my readers could get a ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!

World in the Satin Bag

Reader Question: The Adams Contention

/

Library Dad asks: What is the funniest fantasy/sci-fi book you’ve ever read? The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams hands down. I technically didn’t read it, but listened to the audiobook. That still counts in my book. A question like this deserves a little more than just naming a book though. What is so great about Adams’ work is that it’s unique. As much as his comedy might fly over the heads of most Americans–he is remarkably British, after all–he still has a knack for building worlds that are culturally rich and yet completely ridiculous. That’s what is so funny about Adams. You root for his characters even though the world they live in only makes sense if you’re mentally unstable. Some of that feel was lost in the most recent film adaptation, but some of it they managed to keep intact. Unfortunately, American audiences are not exactly good receivers of British-style comedy. British comedians, or at least those I would consider to be “true” British comedians, require mental involvement by the receivers. Shows like Have I Got News For You and the original Whose Line Is It Anyway? were and have always been remarkably intelligent, despite outward appearances to the contrary–the new Whose Line is good, but it has become incredibly Americanized in its approach. What I am getting at here is that there is a certain kind of charm in British comedy, and even in serious British literary endeavors. It is unique in that one can, with experience, see British influences on style and narrative relatively easily. Adams, of course, is exceptionally unique, but other British writers are also readily identifiable if one is careful. This is a good thing, in my opinion. As much as some writers may want a certain level of “blending” to occur in reader habits (i.e. getting readers to broaden their horizons to other genres, etc.), the British writer will, assuming they cling to a British perspective or narrative vision, remain unique and identifiable. Adams stands out even among his British comrades. And those are my short, but sweet thoughts on Adams. There are, however, a few important notes:–By British I am referring to the nationality that contains all nations of the United Kingdom (England, Northern Ireland, Wales, and Scotland). British is not to be confused with English, as English refers only to those identified as native to England.–I chose to refer to “British” writing here because there is, despite arguments made out of prejudice or otherwise, a lot of blending and merging between the various nations. As much as these individual countries may wish to be distinct, but united (and there are certainly many arguments to be had on this issue), they have, through time, adopted elements of one another. This explains, to the misfortune of the English and perhaps to the Irish, Welsh, and Scottish, the propensity for misinterpretation of what it means to be English by Americans and others. The English should only be identified with those individuals who are native to England, and not to be confused with a grand overarching term to refer to all people of the United Kingdom. ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!

World in the Satin Bag

A Note About Book Reviews

/

There his been some talk in the blogosphere about changes in review policy (not specific to books, but to product reviews and the like). It seems there is a push to make it law that blog reviewers who receive products must disclose that information so as to make it clear that they are essentially being paid to review something (i.e. paid in product). This may or may not change the way books are reviewed (I don’t think it will), so I wanted to offer some information regarding my reviews. From this point on, and certainly for most of what I have reviewed in the past, assume that a book I review has been sent to me by a publisher, publicity agent, or author. I do not write good reviews for either of those entities because I get a free book, and in fact I have ripped into some books in the past that failed epically. But, since it might be of interest to everyone, I want to make it clear that I do get books for review, and that most of the books I review have been sent to me, free of charge, by someone responsible for that book. This should also be a note to anyone wanting to send me books: I do not give nice reviews just because you buttered me up or gave me free bookmarks or whatever. Crappy books are crappy books, and my readers, I hope, expect me to be honest with them in regards to my reviews. Anyone who knows anything about book reviews, however, will also know that even a negative review can sell books. All publicity is good publicity, as they say. And that’s that!

World in the Satin Bag

Don’t Ask, Just Do!

/

I keep getting email requests from people about this, so let me set the record straight: You do not have to ask me if you can link to my blog. You can just do it. You have no obligation to ask. The only time you need to ask me about linking to something is if you want to use my content. Otherwise, don’t ask. If you like my blog and want to link to it, then do it. That is all.

Scroll to Top