LITR 4632: Literature of the Future


Sample Student Midterms 2003
Complete In-Class Essay Example Y

Sandy Murphy
LITR 4632
Midterm Exam
Summer 2003

Literature of the Future is a fascinating and thought-provoking course.  It is also entirely different than the course I was expecting.  When I registered for LITR 4632, I was anticipating reading novels and other literary works by promising new writers.  I don’t know why I never checked the catalog of course listings!  Imagine my surprise when I went to the bookstore to purchase the books!

Nevertheless, I am very glad I decided to stick with the class.  The books have been interesting and enjoyable.  The discussions within the class have been stimulating and intelligent.  The presentations have been eye opening, and some of the short stories have stretched my mind to the breaking point!  I am still trying to sort out all the complexities of Borges’ The Garden of Forking Paths.

In Literature of the Future, the class has been challenged to read, question, and interpret the material just as in any other literature class.  A previous student (SL 99) aptly expressed the difference in Literature of the Future with the statement,

In a standard literature class, I would not be expected to project and think about the world in the future.  So often literature asks us to contemplate the past.  ‘Literature of the Future’ provokes us to think about what the world, or our own individual world, is coming to.”  (Quote from web page – SL 99)

The materials we have studied in LITR 4632 have been narratives.  They are stories or explanations of worlds and events that may or may not occur.  Many of these narratives involve aspects of the literary genre of romance.  They incorporate the problems of separation from the object of desire, the threat of danger, the possibility of transcendence or transformation, and the challenge of an arduous journey or adventure.  Narratives are the ideal form for future literature because they allow the reader to enter into the story and make connections on a personal level.

The three main types of narratives of the future are apocalyptic, evolutionary, and alternative.  Each of these types of narratives has its own cultural and literary appeal.

Apocalyptic narratives are the oldest, and perhaps the most popular, of the three types of future narratives.  Apocalyptic narratives tend to be linear in nature.  They have a distinct beginning, middle, and end.  Perhaps the best known example of apocalyptic literature can be found in the Bible.  It begins with Genesis, continues through the stories, prophecies, and songs of the Old and New Testaments, and culminates with the apocalypse in the book of Revelation.

Apocalyptic literature has strong literary and cultural appeal.  The linear time line tends to make this type of narrative more understandable for the reader.  The strong visual images of the “four horseman of the Apocalypse” (Rev. 6) and the “beasts” (Rev. 13:1) along with the “great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns” (Rev. 12:3) found in Revelation grab the reader’s attention and refuse to let it go.  Furthermore, the concept of the battle between good and evil, the idea of punishment, and the possibility of redemption speak deeply to the human soul.  Humankind wants to believe in an orderly, God-driven, fair universe where we are created in God’s image and good will triumph over evil.

The book of Revelation is by no means the only example of apocalyptic literature discussed in this course.  Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower is also an apocalyptic narrative.  In this novel, the world is in despair.  Violence is pervasive, prices are exorbitant, and the only safety that can be found is within the small, walled enclave of the neighborhood.  The protagonist, Lauren Olamina, is called by her God to rise above the destruction of her world and create Earthseed, her New Jerusalem.  Here, however, Parable of the Sower diverges somewhat from purely apocalyptic literature and begins to take on some aspects of the second type of narrative—the evolutionary narrative.

The evolutionary narrative tends to be cyclical, as opposed to linear, in nature.  This type of narrative is not so affirming to human nature as is the apocalyptic narrative.  The evolutionary narrative resists the grand scheme of God’s control.  It seems more random—dependent upon genetic changes, adaptation, and extinction.  No longer are humans created in God’s image.  Instead they are descended from apes, bacteria, or primordial goo. Furthermore, the long time line for the evolutionary process renders mankind insignificant in comparison.  There are positive aspects to the evolutionary narrative, however.  Evolutionary narratives permit the hope of progress.  They open the door to the idea that humankind can improve, can rectify injustices, and can create a better, if not perfect, world.

Some of the most entertaining materials covered in LITR 4632 come under the category of evolutionary narratives.  The down-home humor of Bears Discover Fire by Terry Bisson made it a delightful read.  It was a different spin on most of the evolutionary literature that deals with humans evolving.  In Bisson’s story, it was the bears who evolved in response to the warmer climate and the development of “newberries.”  Similarly, the high-tech quirkiness of Ralph Lombreglia’s Somebody Up There Likes Me seemed to indicate that although computers were evolving and improving to astonishing levels humans were still bound by their emotions, bad relationships, and lack of judgment.

Not all evolutionary narratives are light-hearted and entertaining, however.  H.G. Wells, The Time Machine, paints a terrifying picture of evolution gone awry.  In the future visited by the Time Traveler, man’s inhumanity to man has resulted in a divergence of the species.  The high-born Eloi have become nothing more than fatted calves for the working class Morlocks.

Similarly, the harsh reality of Stone Lives by Paul Di Filippo portrays a future few would want to embrace.  Business has become brutal.  It is a “dog eat dog’ world where only the strongest can survive.  Even maternal devotion has become antiquated.  It is ‘survival of the fittest”—a true Darwinian nightmare.

Perhaps even more disturbing than the evolutionary future gone wrong is the concept of the third type of future—the alternative narrative.  The alternative future is not linear or cyclical.  It is branching.  In an alternative future nothing is certain, not even the past.  Alternative future narratives challenge the reader to suspend all conceptions of reality and imagine a completely fluid and changeable universe.  They create an exciting, but complex, story.

Sara Brito, in her presentation on Joanna’s Russ’ novel, The Female Man, offered the following quote that seems to illustrate the complexities inherent in alternative narratives.

Sometimes you bend down to tie your show or you don’t; you either straighten up instantly or maybe you don’t.  Every choice begets at least two worlds of possibility, that is, one in which you do and one in which you don’t; or very likely many more, one in which you do quickly, one in which you do slowly, one in which you don’t but hesitate, one in which you hesitate and frown, one in which you hesitate and sneeze, and so on.

This confusing complexity is evident in much of the alternative literature covered in class.  In the relatively light-hearted Better Be Ready “Bout Half Past Eight by Alison Baker, Byron has to come to terms with the fact that his childhood friend, Zach, is becoming a woman.  His reality is completely shaken.  His future relationship with Zach will be different.  His present relationship has been altered, and he finds himself even questioning the years of friendship with Zach that are long in the past.

In Mozart in Mirrorshades by Bruce Sterling and Lewis Shiner, anachronistic humor abounds, but it is difficult to shake the nagging fear that all these branching alternative futures might not lead to a disaster of truly apocalyptic proportions. 

Finally, in Jorge Luis Borges’ The Garden of Forking Paths reality becomes even more convoluted and unsure.  Borges writes of “an infinite series of times, in a dizzily growing, ever spreading network of diverging, converging and parallel times”(Borges 100).  To support this claim, Borges weaves a story where Yu Tsun meets and kills Stephen Albert, who ironically has solved the mystery of Yu Tsun’s grandfather’s labyrinth.  The paths of the their times and futures converged unexpectedly, randomly, and fatally.

Through the materials, presentations, and discussions of the Literature of the Future class, I have been forced to consider both the literature of the future and my personal perceptions regarding the future.  I think previously I had viewed science fiction and most other literature of the future as nothing more than speculation—sort of a “let’s pretend” genre. After reading the required texts, I have realized that while most of it is undeniably speculative it is also quite often grounded in fact and possibility.

As a Christian, my perception of the future remains dependent on God.  I believe Christ will come again and will reign forever.  In that sense, the future is written.  However, I also believe God created us with free will and that change is possible.  In the Lord’s Prayer, we pray “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.”  I believe Christ challenges us to grow, to change, to evolve.  We have a responsibility as people of faith to help write a better future—one that reflects the faith we are called to share.