Punking Everything in SF/F (Part Four): The (Closer) Past (Cyberpunk B)
(Here begins the second part of my conceptualization of cyberpunk. Expect these sorts of things to be irregular, but at the same time a part of this blog, because much of what I will be doing as a graduate student is exactly what I am doing here, but simply on different subjects. This is, for all intensive purposes, practice. Regular programming should, as always be expected.) First, a recap of what cyberpunk is, with some inferences to what it is not: What is it?Cyberpunk is a genre of fiction, primarily of the science fictional vein, that attempts to merge the concept of cyber (taken broadly to mean the speculative future of technology embodied as objects such as the net, artificial intelligence, and other such items) and punk (to be taken as the resistance by a figure or figures to the dominant social paradigm of the post-industrialist complex, with reasonable removal of the unfortunate hypocrisy that eventually took over the punk movement and established its resistance as moot; one can look at Istvan Csicsery-Ronay’s concept of “No Future” in his essay “Cyberpunk and Empire” to get an idea of the nature of the gray that is the punk; and, of course, reading that essay can offer some unusually powerful insights into some of the aspects I glossed over in the first post for this series). Typical elements include: noir imagery, excessive representations of urbanity (to the extent that the urban is typically the central scenic POV and the corporate/industrial complex is instead removed or seemingly nonexistent, and thus is present more as a disembodied head than anything else), urban decay, hacker culture, and the introduction and general adoption of some form of social resistance through the technological (enhanced drugs, code manipulation, use of online-as-real environments, rogue AIs, etc.). It would be fair to say, then, that cyberpunk has already happened, insofar as certain aspects (such as artificial intelligent at the human level) have yet to happen, but other elements (the dominance of the web, the use of networks to mount resistance, both locally and internationally, etc.) have certainly occurred or are occurring. Example: Neuromancer by William Gibson and “Cyberpunk” by Bruce Bethke. What it isn’t?Cyberpunk is not a grand, ridiculously Hollywood-ized foray of random technological gadgets and faux-hacker-culture obscenities that have been so readily adopted by the reading/viewing public as definitively “cyberpunk.” While cyberpunk certainly includes those elements found so grandly exposed in The Matrix and various other films and novels that have been applauded as cyberpunk, it is not so much a genre of visual or technological appeal as a genre of deeper, grander meanings and statuses of resistance. So, while one might say “that guy has a bionic eye and a talking computer” and think “it must be cyberpunk,” we can automatically dig deeper to find where its cyberpunk-ness ceases to be anything but visual aesthetics. We cannot, for example, call such a tale “cyberpunk” simply because of a bionic eye and a talking computer, but precisely because the bionic eye and the talking computer are part of a grand resistance as per the “punk” suffix, demonstrated as such through the interaction of said subjects, willingly or otherwise, with a social paradigm that is radically corporate and radically homogenized as such. Example: The Matrix is arguable, because one could argue that the robots, intelligent and sadistic, in a way, are simply an allegorical representation of an economic model of social structure, precisely because the use of humans as commodities (i.e. the use of people as objects rather than as subjects) is so obvious. But, one would have to see the Animatrix to understand that The Matrix and its sequels are not about commodity so much as about revenge and survival. A grey area still exists; perhaps further attention to such a thing may be elemental to a broader conceptualization of cyberpunk. Now, having said the above, I think it is fair to resume the discussion of cyberpunk as a genre. Cyberpunk is comprised of three movements, though not, by any stretch of the imagination, linear movements, but movements equally as resistant to standards as the punk in cyberpunk. It should be noted, too, that these movements are not definitive categories in the sense that they exist independent of one another, though it is true that they are in genres other than cyberpunk. These movements can be imagined as follows:–Post-humanism–Post-industrialism–Post-nationalism I will only briefly discuss these, because their broader contexts are not necessarily needed here, though certainly worthy of exploration outside of this attempt at literary criticism. Neither of the above categories are necessarily extreme in representation when seemingly adopted by an author, nor are they categories that should be ignored simply because they have been given a weaker role than others (literary critics would tell you that it is possible that those elements which are so hard to discern in relation to other elements are probably the ones most worth paying attention to). But to the descriptions: Post-humanism, in the sense of science fiction, is quite literally what the name seems to imply: post (after) the human. In cyberpunk, and most of science fiction, post-humanism takes the shape, primarily, of the technological: artificial intelligence, robots, cybernetics, bionics, and other forms of prosthetics, whether for the outward body (a robotic arm) or for the internal body (a chip in the brain). Post-humanism, however, should not, in this broad definition, be confused with the alien, and if further explanation is needed for this point, then feel free to tell me in the comments. Post-industrialism we have discussed before. It is the switch from super economies to service economies. Taken literally, again, it means the reduction of manufacturing and the production of service. Post-industrialism is not the end of manufacturing, since no society can possibly survive without the ability to create the goods that thus enable service, but there is simply less emphasis on the creation of objects, and more emphasis on what those objects do for us. For example, one
Publication Against LGBT Content: Writers Be Aware
(LGBT = Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender) Notice I said “be aware” in the title. I am not saying you should avoid the publisher mentioned as unfriendly to LGBT in this post over at Crossed Genres. Rather, I’m telling you to be aware of it. What you choose to do with the information presented in the Crossed Genre post is entirely up to you. However, I will offer my personal perspective on this. Flash Fiction Online, while not a market I can recall submitting to, has made a decision to enact an editorial policy without making such information available to you. Why is this a problem? Well, when you go to a publisher and you look at their guidelines, you get a good sense of what they are looking for and what they are not looking for. Strange Horizons, for example, publishes science fiction and fantasy, not hard cut literary fiction about old people. Likewise, Analog is very specifically a science fiction market, while F&SF is both fantasy and science fiction. None of these magazines, as far as I know, have a policy against certain kinds of literature that is not stated, especially not in the form of a bigoted viewpoint. But Flash Fiction Online has such a policy that is not indicated to all of you. This is not a publication that says “we do not take stories about LGBT characters,” but one that says “submit anything that fits into this (a vague series of non-controversial categories), but secretly we’ll reject anything that doesn’t fit our narrow and biased view of the world, specifically because we have a religious, fundamentalist, and negative view of LGBT issues.” Now, this isn’t to say that everyone who works at FFO is necessarily anti-LGBT, but the fellow mentioned in Crossed Genres is. So, for me, this information tells me that I cannot, in good faith, support such a magazine, not even with a direct link, when its editor so clearly holds a negative, and ignorant, view of LGBT people and issues. Period. There is no negotiation for me. As I wrote in the Outer Alliance when this issue came up: I will not, under any circumstances, submit my work to or send money to, or read, any magazine or other publication which so obviously disapproves and holds biases against LGBT authors and subject matter. This is my personal bias, and a publication that is so willing to hide such information from the general public is, in my opinion, being disingenuous. They are, as I perceive it, hiding that information from people who might actually act upon such knowledge, precisely because they know, whether consciously or not, that to be forward with an anti-LGBT stance would constitute a loss of a share of their reading market. I encourage you to read the Crossed Genres post linked above to get a clear picture of what this is all about. This is where I stand. Now it’s time for you to decide where you stand. That is all.
Quickie Movie Reviews (2009): Volume Five
Here we are with another edition of my quickie movie reviews. Since it has been a while since I’ve done these, and there are new readers seeing this, I want to reiterate what they are about. Any time I watch something that has either been out on DVD for an extended period of time or is no longer in theaters, I do a quickie review rather than a longer review, because, when it comes down to it, nobody really wants a long, drawn-out review for a movie they can pick up for dirt cheap through Netflix or some other service. They want a quick review to get right to the point (is it good or does it blow). That’s what this is all about. The only thing that has changed since the last edition is that I now include a brief synopsis. Without further delay, here we go: Slipstream (Sean Astin and Vinnie Jones)A physics genius working on a temporal displacement device for the government decides to test it out in public, but when the device falls into the hands of a bank robber, he has to get it back before it’s too late.Pros: A great concept with an interesting soundtrack and a superb grasp of low-budget graphics. Big filmmakers would do well to pay attention to how this practically unknown film managed to make its concept visually stimulating without resorting to excessive computer graphics.Cons: The acting is weak; Sean Astin is not at his best here and the rest of the cast either were given poor direction or have issues making their lines feel believable. The plot is, unfortunately, overdone, and any complexity within it feels force.Rating: 2/5 Howl’s Moving Castle (English Dubbed)Set in a bizarre steampunk-esque fantasy world, this brilliant animated piece by legendary animation guru Hiyao Miyazaki follows Sophie, a young girl who is transformed into an old woman, on a magical adventure. She joins Howl’s parade of unusual characters and what follows is a unique and powerful love story amidst the growing tensions of a war.Pros: Beautifully crafted, from in all aspects, with some of the most original and powerful visuals I have seen. The story can be difficult to follow if you are not familiar with Japanese animation styles, but that makes for a deeper, more profound story. The cast is well chosen too, including Billy Crystal as the voice of Calciver!Cons: Suffers from being too clearly Miyazaki. But for those that love his work, this is a meaningless criticism. Beyond that? Maybe the plot can be difficult to follow, but, as I said before, if you like Miyazaki, you already know what kinds of plots he works with.Rating: 4.5/5 Porko Rosso (English Dubbed)Another Miyazaki flick, this tale follows Porko Rosso, a seaplane pilot with the face of a pig, as he combats glory-hungry Americans, idiot pirates, and a wartime Italy bent on locking him up for abandoning them in a time of war.Pros: The visuals are pretty decent and the story is relatively easy to follow.Cons: The story lacks depth and no explanation is given for why he is the only one who looks like a pig until fifteen minutes or so into the movie–and even that explanation is rather weak. Other issues include weak characterization, a dragging plot, some poor dubbing, and other issues that come with translation, particularly in films like Miyazaki’s. In my opinion, this is one of the weakest of Miyazaki’s films, if not the worst.Rating: 2/5 Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (English Dubbed)Based on the manga series of the same name, Nausicaä is an epic science fantasy tale set in a post-apocalyptic Earth. Mankind has largely destroyed the planet, creating an entirely new ecosystem where giant insects and deadly plants devastate human populations wherever they meet. Nausicaä, and her various companions along the way, finds herself caught in the middle of a feud between two human factions and the rage-filled insects that dominate her world.Pros: Truly an epic story, with some amazing imagery, unique characters, and a brilliant vision. Miyazaki, while not the creator of Nausicaä, certainly tried to capture the stimulating visuals of the manga series to create this story.Cons: The story itself is very much the hit-you-over-the-head kind in regards to its environmental message. I found it somewhat annoying, but did my best to get past it to enjoy the rest of the movie.Rating: 3/5 The FallAn injured stuntman manipulates a young girl with a broken arm into helping him try to commit suicide by telling her a story of adventure and intrigue. But with each passing moment, the story becomes more real, and the line between real and imagined fades. A richly detailed and unforgettably unique movie, The Fall is one of those films we wish had been in theatres everywhere.Pros: The Fall is absolutely gorgeous, utilizing various locales across the world to create an astonishing array of visual flavors. The story itself is quite powerful, too, which may be something lacking in films of this vein, especially today. It’s not every day that a film can successfully stick together pulp-era adventure with a deep and compelling narrative of depression and the power of imagination.Cons: It is unclear what sort of style the directors were attempting to create in the relationship between the stuntman and the young girl. Most of her screen time is spent either seemingly ad-libbing or speaking softly with a thick accent, making her difficult to understand. This style of acting clashes heavily with that of the stuntman. Thankfully, it is bearable.Rating: 3/5 And there you have it. If any of the above movies interest you, go rent them or buy them on DVD! Or not, it’s up to you…
Punking Everything in SF/F (Part Three): The (Closer) Past (Cyberpunk A)
To define cyberpunk is to literally take up the foundations of science fiction and say, “this is it, and there are no other options.” Anyone who attempts a definitive definition to science fiction will know how ridiculous this is to accomplish, particularly because no two individuals will agree. Cyberpunk is to punk what science fiction is to itself. Any attempt to define cyberpunk will be either heavily contested, patently wrong, or shortsighted. I expect here, in this brief forum, that I will have approached some semblance of all three categories. Cyberpunk began, at least in its most recognizable form, with Bruce Bethke, a fellow most of you have never heard of precisely because another fellow by the name of William Gibson stormed onto the scene and stole the limelight from our little Bethke. You see, Bethke was a visionary who unfortunately was rather shortsighted in his presentation of what we now know to be “hacker culture.” His story, aptly named “Cyberpunk,” was quite literally the embodiment of punk in the narrowed vision of the future, a molding, literally, even, of cyber (to mean future technology) and punk (to mean what I attempted to utter here). Fitting how the term came together, don’t you think? Then there was Gibson, and Bruce Sterling, and Pat Cadigan, and even a few friends from the past who, for better or worse, were adopted into the fray by enthusiasts of the genre, even though they were not, by any stretch of the imagination, attempting to toss their names into the cyberpunk hat (how could they when they had no idea that cyberpunk would exist in another decade or two, the Philip K. Dicks and Stanislaw Lems, with all their proto-cyberpunk tales that were either ignored or acknowledged as wonderfully complicated). And what were they writing? Future punk, to be rather brutally simplistic about it. They were extrapolating upon the present by imagining a future that punk had yet to conceive: one in which globalization had been taken to the extreme, so much so that corporations took that final step to being more than just entities with a voice, but true powers, global entities with desires, wills, and superiority over the then-present (future-present) society. Here is when punk met cyber, because as society in the 1980s was gearing up for the incredible shift in economic priorities, cyberpunk writers, whether announced or silent, were imagining the decay of cities and neobarbarism (an examination of extremist urbanity), and envisioning the future of post-industrialization. Super economies were becoming service economies (Fordism vs. Toyotaism) and the entire structure of society, as envisioned by the league of cyberpunks themselves, was shifting from that in which the individual fit into one of two categories: 1) the hapless victim of social and economic change, unwilling or unskilled to mount any sort of resistance, except to adopt the new cultural paradigm and become “citizens” of the post-industrial, corporation-as-self structure; and 2) the “punk” as embodied in he/she who resists, who mounts some form of opposition and bleeds into the structure of society as one who is not supportive in action (though in mind they were not necessarily aware of said resistance) of the dominant social structures. And so, cyberpunk became a way of envisioning the future as always already screwed up, as filled with all that was wrong with the present amplified, but all that was right with the future. There was the net, a force of both social cohesion and discord, and even such wonders as quasi-noir imagery (a la old detective novels), cybernetics, bionics, excessive reference to new or improved drugs, and hacking. Much of cyberpunk, thus, saw the net as coming alive, becoming, as it were, a being-to-itself, with artificial intelligence and pre-visualized navigation structures that allowed it to be more than just a place of numbers and code. Here you should think about the nature of video games and how the Internet has change how we play them; cyberpunk saw that coming from a mile away, but yet was so clearly wrong in some respects, because we have yet to devise a game world that is a world experienced as such. This post, unfortunately, has grown too long, and must be split. Here I have conceptualized a relationship to punk itself and given a brief idea of what cyberpunk is, though rather haphazardly. There is more to say, but for now we have the above. There are movements to be discussed, within cyberpunk, and other elements that have largely been forgotten, including the interesting nature of merger and collaboration amongst the various other genres, and even the supposed death of cyberpunk. Those are forthcoming. But, for now, if you have thoughts, disagreements, or downright hatreds for what I have uttered here, please use the comments below to relay them in the manner you deem appropriate. And that concludes my rather formal, somewhat critical language. Have at it! ————————————— Read Part One (Punking), Part Two (Punk), Part Four (Cyberpunk B), and Part Five (Cyberpunk C).
World Building: Thoughts and Practices
World building is one of those things you have to do, even if you don’t want to. Whether you write fantasy, science fiction, or something else entirely, you’ll always find yourself attempting to build your world, whether at the micro or macro levels. Creating characters is a form of world building, and if all you do is create unique characters for your novels, then you are as much a part of the process as someone who builds entire worlds (they just have to spend more time creating things from scratch, while you, perhaps, can sit around in the comfort of the world you know). I’ve often approached world building from a relatively minimalist position. While I enjoy fantasy worlds with richly developed worlds, sometimes such things can get in the way and what should be a riveting novel can turn into a foray into the author’s world building practices. Nobody wants that. Tolkien, for all his brilliance in creating the most fully-realized fantasy world in the history of the genre, was occupied by unfortunate flaws in style and character development, some of which were a product of the times. I prefer to keep things localized. Whether it is the most efficient method, I don’t know, but it seems to work well enough for me. I don’t occupy myself with excessive amounts of ancient history, because, as much as that might be interesting, it is not relevant to whatever story I am writing at that moment. When I build worlds, I start with names and general ideas, work my way to a map, and then go wild until I feel that I know enough about the world to be able to write in it. Sometimes it works well, depending on how interested I am in a particular world, and sometimes it doesn’t. But when it works, it really works. I have three fantasy worlds that I developed this way (Traea, the world in which The World in the Satin Bag is set, a world where I’ve set many of my “quirky” fantasy stories, and the Mundoscurad, the most recent, in which The Watchtower is set. There are an absurd amount of different methods for world building, from genre specific to author specific. Writers of all genres, particularly newer writers, are always looking for the “best way,” not realizing that the “best way” is really non-existent. Reality dictates that what might work for some, may not work for you, and vice versa. Ken McConnell, for example, said via his Twitter that, “sometimes it’s the little things, like word choice that can set the tone and enrich your world building.” So what do you do when it comes to world building? How do you find the right method for you? Trial and error. Not the answer you were looking for, were you? Tough. So much of writing involves trying something to see if it works for you. If it doesn’t, you drop it and try something else. Trial and error is a writer’s third or fourth, or maybe tenth, best friend (no doubt writers have a lot of best friends). But that’s neither here nor there. I want to hear about your world building methods. How do you approach creating new worlds? What works for you?
First Time Novels: Small Press or the Big Boys?
An interesting thought occurred to me only moments ago: when it comes to considering publishing your first novel, how do you decide on what kind of publisher to select? It would seem, at least to me, that many automatically send their work to the big boys, get rejected, and then sit around bitter, or self-publish, due to some unfortunate ignorance on their part of all the wonderful small presses out there. But then there are others, like Paul Genesse and other talented writers, who opted for a small press from the start, for reasons that I have either forgotten or simply do not know. I suppose my curiosity on this arises because I am considering my own path, considering the future from a point far removed from that would-be point. Are certain novels more fitting for small presses than the big ones? How does one see that in a novel? And do writers who select small presses first ever consider whether it would have been better to go with one of the big boys? Or is that so far removed from an author’s mind because, hey, they’re published, even if it is by a press that will only print a thousand copies of their book? I don’t know. It seems to me that if you could define a small press novel as a particular brand, then you could easily say “this would be good for them.” But novels don’t seem to be so easily defined, and I find it difficult to believe that the many authors snatched up by small presses went there as a last resort. What about all of you? What would you say to all of this? How would you decide to choose a small press? P.S.: This is not meant as a slight to small presses in any way. I have read many great works from small presses and believe them to be a valuable asset in a difficult field to break into. I do, however, recognize that many authors do not have the sort of relationship I do with small presses, a relationship that recognizes their value and has seen the quality of work they produce. Some still perceive the small press as too close to self-publishing for comfort. It’s an unfortunate stigma, but one that small presses must combat, day in and day out.