The Great SF/F Novels of the Post-Millenium?
There have been a lot of lists recently of SF/F books everyone should read from *insert older decade here.* While I enjoy these lists — occasionally you discover something new or unusual — I’m always driven to annoyance by the endless nostalgia for the “good ole days.” Don’t get me wrong here. I don’t hate the classics. Some of the best works of SF/F come from before my time. But I think we need to have more discussions about the works being produced now. Maybe that’s because I like to pretend that I’ll have a bead on what will be remembered 50 years from now. Or maybe I like seeing what people feel are great works of SF/F from the 2000s (ish) so I can rub my chin and ponder. It doesn’t really matter. Today’s post is about this very question: What do you think are the great works of science fiction and fantasy from the post-millenium period (the 2000s to the present)? Why? Some rules: They obviously have to have been originally released at some point between 2000 and the present. Re-releases or re-writes or pickups of self-published books published prior to that do not count. “Great” should be taken to mean “a book that contributes to the genre in some significant way.” Interpret that how you will. Entertainment value, however, is not enough on its own. The books must be science fiction or fantasy. I will not define what these mean; we can hash out suspect entries in the comments if people feel the need to do so. The publisher or marketing strategy for the book is not strictly relevant. If a great SF novel was published as a literary work in the general fiction section, then so be it. The comments are yours. Suggest away.
A Mock Conversation with the SF Community
SF Community: “WER IS ALL THE ADVENTURE AND FUNN IN SF!!! ITZ SO DEPRESSERING!” Me: “How about +Tobias Buckell? Have you read him?” SF: “WHOOOOOO? DAT AUTHER ECKZISTS? WUT? HAHAHA!” That’s the intellectual quality of the SF community right now. 14-year-olds writing text messages. This is not to suggest that Tobias Buckell’s space opera novels didn’t sell at all, or that nobody had heard of them. But it seems to me that there’s a huge sea of new, adventurous, exciting SF sitting out there on the shelves. Right now. Waiting to be read. If the SF community is really so annoyed by all the darkness and introversion, they can solve that right quick by buying the hell out of the kinds of things Buckell writes. It exists. It’s waiting to be read. So where are you, SF community? Why is Buckell not a bestselling author for his non-tie-in SF, hmm? Exactly. All this fist pumping over Elizabeth Bears column at Clarkesworld seems like a pointless misdirection. SF isn’t too dark. SF isn’t without its excitement and fun. The community just isn’t buying it. They’ve spent the last 70 years trying to be taken seriously, and now that they are (by academics, by literary critics, etc.), they’re shocked to find that what people want to read aren’t the adventure novels of old. You want to solve SF’s public image of doom and gloom? Start pushing the stuff you like. Create a blog. Tell your friends. Advertise your favorite books. Write reviews. Otherwise, stop complaining. You created the bed SF sits in, but SF isn’t the one that brought the fleas and ticks. It just opened its arms and legs to let them feed.
The Literary Establishment’s Tolkien Problem?
L. B. Gale recently wrote a post detailing five ways J. R. R. Tolkien defies arguments over his simplicity as a writer. What I find interesting about this post are the numerous inaccurate or false arguments provided by Gale in defense of Tolkien as a writer, all given in an attempt to support her claim that “these contradictions are what we find when a literary establishment deals with an original.” My problem with this argument isn’t just that Gale’s support is inaccurate from a literary history perspective, but that her argument relies on a fundamentalism within the genre community of which I’ve grown quite tired. There is no “literary establishment” anymore. If it existed, and it was as rigidly structured as genre folks would have us believe, then I could not do what I am doing now: getting a PhD. in literature in an important English program at a large university which includes genre fiction as a component. The fact is that those silly walls have long since been cut down; the barrier now isn’t whether there are professors interested in genre fiction, but whether there will ever be enough jobs specific to genre for those of us who want to spend our lives immersed in it for academic purposes (it may take some time for the field to have an explosion; literary fields go in cycles in academia). But beyond that, there are a few points that I think need to be made to put Tolkien into perspective (in contrary to Gale’s argument): I. Fragmentation ≠ Original While it’s true that Tolkien wrote The Lord of the Rings during the modernist period and published it at the (arguably) start of the postmodernist one, the notion that this strategy is wholly original, or a mark of a kind of originality that somehow implies “merit” from a narrative perspective, is somewhat shortsighted. Tolkien, of course, was writing a linear narrative, contrary to Gale’s argument, but in a way that required multiple strands weaving together towards a common point (all of the narratives in LOTR move in the same direction: forward). But breaking up a story into strands, or even breaking up a narrative so that it does not follow in a straight, linear form, extends well into the periods that preceded the modernist one (one might even consider something like The Histories by Herodotus or The Decameron by Boccaccio as examples of this broken strategy at work, albeit in different forms). II. Tolkien Did Not Obliterate Formula Gale argues that Tolkien cannot have had a linear plot with a straightforward narrative because “the moviemakers would have little trouble translating that to film” otherwise. The problem? Cutting is a natural process of adaptation, and the degree to which Peter Jackson and his fellow writers had to trim out details from LOTR to make it work as a film only tells us about the level of detail Tolkien managed to produce. But this is no more a compelling reason to place Tolkien on a pedestal than any writer of history or any writer of exceedingly complex novels. You’d be hard pressed, for example, to adapt The Canterbury Tales or any number of less-well-known Romantic-era works (for lack of examples that aren’t canonical). But, again, Gale relies on these assumptions to suggest that Tolkien did not write simplistic, linear patterns into his work. Tolkien did write simplistic, linear patterns. What he didn’t write were stories of a reductive world — that is a story about a specific place pulled out of the wider global context. That’s a far more compelling argument to be made about Tolkien than the unsupportable claim that Tolkien’s very straightforward plot (evil ring is evil, the evil bad is eviling back, and the little hero must destroy the ring while the rest try to keep the world from crumbling) is anything but straightforward. These assumptions also must be accepted to believe Gale’s claim that Tolkien was obliterating formula when he wrote LOTR. The problem is that Gale also acknowledges the sources that Tolkien drew upon as a student of mythology, all of which influenced not simply his interest in writing mythology, but also the very structures of myth, fantastic narrative, an romanticism that appear in his work. What Tolkien did as a writer had been done before. What Tolkien did to the literary field hadn’t. If we’re going to think of Tolkien in the context of his greatness, then we have to do so primarily in terms of his actual achievements: worldbuilding and almost single-handedly creating a commercial genre. Gale makes a lot of these arguments, often by speaking about unnamed critics who make arguments that most legitimate critics wouldn’t make if they actually read books (example: Gale says that critics ignore the fact that Sauron is mostly a psychological presence; I suppose this would only be true if said critics believed Dracula was a dancing ballerina). What I draw from this is, perhaps, the exact opposite of Gale’s intent. The problem with the genre community is that it spends too much time trying to legitimize itself to the imaginary literary establishment and ignoring the instances when genre writers do break through. While there might be great reasons to argue over Tolkien’s exclusion from discussions of “the canon,” there is still the hard truth that what Tolkien was doing was only original because he was applying a fictional world to a pre-existing idea. James Joyce was doing the same thing with Ireland in Ulysses (that is, using a real place as opposed to a fictional one). But none of this makes LOTR or Ulysses great books. There are different and more effective criteria to consider, I think. Thoughts? (Personally, I prefer the movies.)
Your Orientalist Genre Anthology of Exoticism (or, WTF, Ticonderoga?)
Ticonderoga Publications is currently reading for an anthology called Dreaming of Djinn. All well and good, right? Things get rather strange, however, when you read the description: This anthology, with the working title Dreaming of Djinn, will look at romantic Orientalism through a speculative fiction lens. You might find lost cities, magical lamps, mummies, thieves, intrepid explorers, slaves, robotic horsemen, noble queens, sorcerers, outcast princes, harems, dancers, djinn, assassins and even smart-talking camels and cats, set in exotic Persia, Egypt, Arabia, the Ottoman Empire, or a modern incarnation of these. Oh boy, here we go! The Middle East isn’t exotic. The oceans of Europa are exotic, because fuck-all lives there; if you stuck someone in them, I suspect their first reaction would be “Holy shit, I’m miles under ice in an ocean on another planet.” Hell, even the oceans on Earth are exotic for the same reason (“Holy shit, I’m inside a submarine in the Marianas Trench!”). People live in the Middle East, that oh-so-exotic place with all the different countries and peoples and histories (it’s a country like Africa, right? Right? Ha!). I know, that’s shocking, right? Maybe I should say “people.” That’s better. That way you can question whether they are people, since they’re all exotic and whatever. Unless, of course, if you take your head out of your ass and you realize that, hey, people from the Middle East live in this country, and other Western countries, and many of them have kids, so to say “oh, hey, those weird people from Persia are exotic weirdos” is sort of like saying “My left arm is strange, but my right one is el normal!” And that’s really the problem. Are there “exotic” cultures on this planet? I don’t know. I don’t know about all the cultures on this planet. I’m sure there are cultures that seem strange to me, but I’m in tune with my own reality enough to know that that opinion is not relevant because it is subjective. Other cultures are exotic because they are not my own culture. And this is really the problem of Orientalism as Edward Said articulated it, and as so many academics and non-academics alike now understand it. The moment we start producing these binaries, in which one culture is “normal” and the other is “exotic” (read: savage, wrong, not-us, etc.), then we are engaging in orientalist behavior. That the editors used Orientalism in the description without noting this profound irony is disconcerting. I’m sure they mean well, and that what they really want is to find are stories which show pulpy adventures taking place in the Middle East and other places once identified as part of “the Orient.” There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s even a pretty good idea. But I certainly hope they think through the implications of their call for stories, or they might end up with an actual anthology of Orientalist Romances, chock full of racism, ethnocentric stereotypes, and so on. Something like this: Anywho… ——————————————————– What does everyone else think about this?
The Hugo Awards: Mission Fanzine
A few folks have raised some interesting questions/ideas over on my post about the nominees for the Hugo Awards. I suspect I will explore these topics again in the future. The one thing I did want to remedy about my comments is my dismissive nature of the fanzines. It seems rather silly of me to dismiss fanzines simply because nobody I know is talking about them, etc.. I rarely do that for any other category, so why should I do it with fanzines? In other words: I am going to read some of the fanzines on the list with the intention of getting to know what they are all about. This will include The Drink Tank, Journey Planet, File 770, and, if I can find it, Banana Wings. SF Signal is already in my feed reader, so they will get read as per normal. I will read at least one issue from each and reassess the category. I may not change my mind about which of the nominees I prefer, but at least I’ll be able to say why from an educated position. So there you have it. My silly new mission. I blame Christopher J. Garcia for this; he’s too nice of a guy for me to ignore! (If anyone has a copy of Banana Wings, or knows where I can find it in an electronic form, please let me know. I cannot find it anywhere…)
2012 Hugo Awards Nominations: Preliminary Thoughts
Last year, I ranted about the Hugo Awards (here and here) after they were announced. This year, I’m switching things up to offer some preliminary thoughts before they are announced, and after. If you’d like to put me in my place, the comments are yours. These are preliminary thoughts, so I expect to be proven wrong on many counts. (Note: Some categories will get a slight pass, as I don’t want to comment too much about areas about which I have little reading experience. I will make guesses about winners based solely on what information I have in my arsenal, which means that most of my guesses are not educated whatsoever.) Here goes: Best Novel Among Others, Jo Walton (Tor) A Dance With Dragons, George R. R. Martin (Bantam Spectra) Deadline, Mira Grant (Orbit) Embassytown, China Miéville (Macmillan / Del Rey) Leviathan Wakes, James S. A. Corey (Orbit) I’m not terribly disappointed in these choices. One of my professors has told me that Among Others is brilliant, and I’ve had a love affair with Mieville for a while now. Martin is an obvious choice, what with his enormous fanbase. I don’t know enough about James S. A. Corey or Leviathan Wakes to offer any opinions whatsoever, though one of my friends liked the book enough to give me a copy, so I suspect it’s not bad. The Grant, sadly, doesn’t interest me at all, but if someone wants to send me both books in that series to prove me wrong, go for it. I would have preferred to see Of Bloody and Honey by Stina Leicht and Osama by Lavie Tidhar here, but that might be asking too much. I am sad that no small press titles are on this list, though. Overall feeling: *un-enthused, slightly disappointed shrug* Who will win? Mieville Best Novella Countdown, Mira Grant (Orbit) “The Ice Owl”, Carolyn Ives Gilman (The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction) “Kiss Me Twice”, Mary Robinette Kowal (Asimov’s) “The Man Who Bridged the Mist”, Kij Johnson (Asimov’s) “The Man Who Ended History: A Documentary”, Ken Liu (Panverse 3) Silently and Very Fast, Catherynne M. Valente (WSFA) Note: 6 nominees due to tie for final position. Some of the same names again. This could be a good thing, or it could be bad. I am pleased to see Ken Liu on the list, though. I’ve talked with him on Google+ and he seems like a nice guy. But the Novella category is always one of those “hey, I haven’t read enough” categories. Overall feeling: *okay* Who will win? Kowal Best Novelette “The Copenhagen Interpretation”, Paul Cornell (Asimov’s) “Fields of Gold”, Rachel Swirsky (Eclipse Four) “Ray of Light”, Brad R. Torgersen (Analog) “Six Months, Three Days”, Charlie Jane Anders (Tor.com) “What We Found”, Geoff Ryman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction) Geoff Ryman is a genius. Swirsky is pretty damned good too. Haven’t read the others. That is all. Overall feeling: *hmm, interesting* Who will win? Swirsky Best Short Story “The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees”, E. Lily Yu (Clarkesworld) “The Homecoming”, Mike Resnick (Asimov’s) “Movement”, Nancy Fulda (Asimov’s) “The Paper Menagerie”, Ken Liu (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction) “Shadow War of the Night Dragons: Book One: The Dead City: Prologue”, John Scalzi (Tor.com) Oh, hey, look, the same magazines over and over. No Interzone selections? No Weird Tales? No *insert one of the dozen other pro and semi-pro mags with great stories in them here*? But the crown jewel of utter stupidity here is Scalzi’s April Fool’s joke. Yeah, that story was written for April Fool’s Day last year. Not serious. If anything could destroy the credibility of this award, it is that fact. Don’t get me wrong. I like Scalzi. He’s even a pretty good writer. But this is a new low for the Hugos. I will refer to them as the Joke Hugos from now on. Overall feeling: *annoyed* Who will win? Scalzi (because that would make the Joke Hugos perfectly Jokey, no?) Best Related Work The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, Third Edition, edited by John Clute, David Langford, Peter Nicholls, and Graham Sleight (Gollancz) Jar Jar Binks Must Die…and other Observations about Science Fiction Movies, Daniel M. Kimmel (Fantastic Books) The Steampunk Bible: An Illustrated Guide to the World of Imaginary Airships, Corsets and Goggles, Mad Scientists, and Strange Literature, Jeff VanderMeer and S. J. Chambers (Abrams Image) Wicked Girls (CD), Seanan McGuire Writing Excuses, Season 6 (podcast series), Brandon Sanderson, Dan Wells, Howard Tayler, Mary Robinette Kowal, and Jordan Sanderson You know what? There are some good choices here. I suspect ESF (Clute) will take it, but I wouldn’t ignore The Steampunk Bible (I would marry VanderMeer’s editing side) or Writing Excuses here (a great podcast). I don’t know much about the Kimmel, but it seems like an interesting book. Award-worthy? No idea. Overall feeling: *okay* Who will win? Clute (too perfectly historical for its own good) Best Graphic Story Digger, by Ursula Vernon (Sofawolf Press) Fables Vol 15: Rose Red, by Bill Willingham and Mark Buckingham (Vertigo) Locke & Key Volume 4: Keys To The Kingdom, written by Joe Hill, illustrated by Gabriel Rodriguez (IDW) Schlock Mercenary: Force Multiplication, written and illustrated by Howard Tayler, colors by Travis Walton (The Tayler Corporation) The Unwritten (Volume 4): Leviathan, created by Mike Carey and Peter Gross, written by Mike Carey, illustrated by Peter Gross (Vertigo) You know what? I have no idea. I don’t read graphic novels. So I’ll let the folks in the comments handle this one. Overall feeling: *umm, what?* Who will win? No idea. Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form Captain America: The First Avenger, screenplay by Christopher Markus and Stephan McFeely; directed by Joe Johnston (Marvel) Game of Thrones (Season 1), created by David Benioff and D. B. Weiss; written by David Benioff, D. B. Weiss, Bryan Cogman, Jane Espenson, and George R. R. Martin; directed by Brian Kirk, Daniel Minahan, Tim van Patten, and Alan Taylor (HBO) Harry Potter