On iTunes University (in the MIT Arts section) there is a lecture/moderated discussion given by Joe Haldeman entitled “The Craft of Science Fiction.” In it, Mr. Haldeman briefly discusses Hugo Gernsback, one of the great early Science Fiction (hitherto: SF) pioneers, and founder of the first SF magazine, Amazing Stories. Gernsback saw SF as a tool to popularize and advocate for science and technology. Riffing off of that idea, Haldeman proposes that today SF–and especially hard SF:
“is a tool against religion…a tool for rationalism, and a rational approach to solving life’s problems.”
Ironically, Joe Haldeman’s best known work, The Forever War, could easily be construed as a story about how technology isolates us and makes us less human; hardly a tool for the rational approach to solving life’s problems, but then again we each bring our own biases to the table when we pick up a novel (or any other book).
In any event, it got me thinking: what ideological purposes does/should SF have? Should a SF story be a gospel narrative about the good news of science? Or should it be a prophetic voice calling out in the wilderness of of unbridled, post-industrial science-run-amok?
I realized most of my favorites in the genre do not advocate for faith in science or “rationality” as Haldeman would prefer, nor do they (often) completely discount science or technology. So briefly, I want to mention two books, easily some of the best in the genre, that explore science’s limits and possibilities, and at the same time have things to say about religion and spirituality. Each of these books deserve multi-thousand word reviews, but this is supposed to be a short post so please don’t let brevity undermine your understanding of these book’s quality or import.
Solaris by Stanislaw Lem
Lem, one of the world’s best and probably Europe’s best practitioner of SF, wrote Solaris in Polish in 1961. It was translated into English from a French translation in 1970, and a direct Polish to English translation was only just published as an audio book a few months ago with an ebook soon to follow. There are also two film adaptations which deviate somewhat from the novel.
Solaris is a planet with one giant, conscious organism. The human characters in the book, all scientists, discover through a certain kind of interaction with this alien organism that science cannot answer all questions, and that the most problematic and disturbing of these unanswered questions are about themselves. This is one of the great philosophical novels of the 20th century.
A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller
By my estimation, this is the greatest post-apocalyptic story of all time (and the cover, above, is totally sweet). After a nuclear holocaust, a remote Catholic monastery keeps human learning and the cultural memory of the past alive. It is deeply moving novel which–with no lack of irony–simultaneously warns us of the dangers and evils of science without conscience, and commends to us the indomitable curiosity that is one of the noblest and best aspects of humanity and is the basis of all science.
++++
Part of a (Long) Series of (Short) Posts about Science and Technology
The Tragic Irony of Technology Coltan, cellphones and being connected
Singularity, Progress, and Darwinian Common Sense Artificial Intelligence and Sciencism
Middleduction A post that would have made a nice introduction
Science Fiction as Prophetic Witness or Scientific Gospel?
Technology and Language u r n 4 a gr8 time, lol (coming soon)
Creating the Problem in Order to Fix It (coming soon)
More on Sciencism (coming soon)
Kierkegaardian Dread (coming soon)
Well, I was waiting to throw this out until I worked up a polished essay on it, but the deeper I go the more I realize that that is going to take about 2 years (at least) of me reading continental philosophy(a task which I’ve only begun, which means I haven’t found a “bottom” ; I haven’t figured out just how deep I have to go), so, instead, I’m going to just list some of my ideas thus far, and see what you think.
Oh, and if you’re planning on seeing District 9, but haven’t, you may not want to read some or all of this post.
I few weeks ago I watched District 9, by the white South African director, Neill Blomkamp. It is a powerful movie, and has dominated my thoughts ever since. Below is a quick synopsis of the pertinent parts, but be warned that my description hardly does the movie justice.
Spoiler begins
An alien ship mysteriously parked itself above Johannesburg, SA. Millions of aliens were found on the ship aimlessly living in their own filth. A camp, called District 9 was created for them below the ship and all of the aliens were moved to it. Over the course of 20 years, the camp became a slum, and numerous violent incidents gave rise to serious hatred on the part of Johannesburg residents toward the aliens whom they refer to as ”prawns.” As one character notes, the aliens do have undeniable shrimp-like characteristics. A super-corporation called Multi-National United is tasked with managing the prawns and the action of the movie begins with the MNU’s decision to move the entire prawn population to a new camp outside of Johannesburg. A geeky beaurocrat, who happens to be the CEO’s son-in-law, is put in charge of handing out eviction notices to the entire alien population of Disctrict 9. While carrying out the task our protagonist beaurocrat comes into contact with an alien substance which begins changing him into an alien. When the transformation starts, he is promptly kidnapped by his own corporation, where he is forced to participate in disturbing experiments. It turns out, MNU’s real interest in the “prawns” is their weapons technology which the company seeks to duplicate and market. Their only setback is that the alien technology can only be utilized by the aliens. MCU’s evil scientists soon discover, however, that the protagonist can use the weapons because his DNA is in the process of becoming alien. Just before they begin harvesting his organs in the interest of harnessing his weapon-operating power, he escapes and seeks refuge in District 9. For most of the movie the protagonist has the same bigoted attitude toward the aliens that everyone else both within MNU and without have. But, as he becomes a prawn, and develops a friendship of sorts with one of them, his attitude slowly changes, until, in the climax of the movie, he is defends his alien friend against extermination at the hands of his father-in-law’s heartless company.
Spoiler Ends
Here are some of the ideas that this movie has inspired:
1. For the purposes of ethical conversation, all aliens in Science Fiction and specifically in District 9=the Other.
2. In order for the protagonist of the movie to “love” the Other, he had to become the Other. He was incapable of understanding or loving the Other as himSelf.
3. The movie can obviously be “read” as commentary on the South African struggle with apartheid. However, the alien ship could have been parked over 1939-era Germany, or over present-day Gaza Strip and the same symbolic power would have been achieved.
4. In a way, the protagonist’s transformation could represent the Incarnation. Christ put himSelf aside to become the Other (humanity), in order to redeem the Other. Redemption could not have taken place outside of the act of “becoming the Other” on Christ’s part.
5. In terms of Christian morality, the concept of the Other is equivalent to the Neighbor, especially in a globalized world in which one is forced (blessed?) to rub up against, to pay attention to people and cultures radically different than one’s Self so that everyone is one’s Neighbor. How can we truly understand and love our Neighbor, then, without becoming her/him? Globalism brings us together but we are still so far apart. I expect Zizek’s book on the Neighbor to be particularly enlightening/challenging on this point, hopefully it will be mine next week.
6. Following Cavanaugh, in the Eucharist I consume Christ, but in turn, I am consumed; I become more and more a part of Christ’s body. Through Christ’s act of becoming us (the Incarnation), He installed the way for us to become more like Him (the Eucharist). Since we share the Eucharist with the Universal Church which spans nations, continents and cultures, the Eucharist is the way in which each individual Self becomes the Other. If you’ll allow a little analogical liberty, the alien substance which changes the human protagonist of District 9 into an alien can represent the Eucharist which changes each of us into body of Christ, thus uniting us (whether we like it or not) with each Other.
What do you think? I’ve got about 30,000 pages of Levinas, Lacan, Bidiou, Zizek, Derrida, Critchley, Foucault and maybe some Milbank (and many more who I haven’t yet thought about or discovered) to read before I can bring this all together into some sort of cogency. Any suggestions?
Tony Hunt
jstambaugh
Shawn Wamsley
