LITR 4632: Literature of the Future

Sample Student Midterms 2005
Complete In-Class Essay Example X

Kevin Kaup

When I first heard about this course, I assumed that "Literature of the Future" would be wall-to-wall science fiction, with a heavy lean towards time-travel and space exploration.  This was certainly how I described the course to anyone inquiring of my current semester's workload.  I was, happily, quite wrong in my initial interpretations.  Literature of the Future, as it turns out, is a constantly-evolving term, encompassing not only time-travel and galactic adventure, but any fiction that supposes an alternate reality based on a temporal, sociological, ideological, or evolutionary disparity.  Although we have had some interesting adventures (Parable of the Sower, The Time Machine), much of the work we have read--especially the short stories--have really been about a single notion, explored and conveyed via the vehicle of future or alternative setting.  Advanced technology plays a great part in most of our selections, but it is important to note that technology does not exist in and of itself, in a void, in these works; it is instead merely a tool for exploring the deeper themes of humanity within each work.

            One of the most important differences between this course and the other literature classes I have taken in college lies in the time frame of each course's overall syllabus.  Almost by necessity, most "serious" literature explored in other courses was written, in their own time, as contemporary commentary or historical fiction, usually based in a setting that can be confirmed by fact or written account.  Our works go in exactly the opposite direction, exploring alternative presents or distant futures that cannot be verified or refuted, since they exist purely in the imagination of the writer--although many settings can be seen as logical extensions and extrapolations of our current world or immediate future.  The commonality between all of the literature courses I have taken, however, is the overriding objective to make the stories relative to today, our problems, and our aspirations.  In fact, much literature is written expressly with that goal in mind--to comment on the issues of the day.  However, works set in a parallel present or a distant future have the benefit of being able to successfully divorce themselves from the reality being commented upon, thereby assuring complete freedom to discuss and explore controversial or difficult themes through the guise of a "future" fiction.

            Regardless of the fictitious and sometimes wild nature of much of our reading, it all, almost universally, grounds itself in a well-worn and perennially-popular narrative that lends an additional gravity to a work by riffing on its themes and cultural acceptance.  A narrative is seen as a popular story archetype that recurs throughout literary history, and that explores or defines much of the nature of humanity and the world.  There are many narratives that are commonly used throughout literature, but when discussing literature of the future, you will find that there are three primary narratives that keep cropping up in almost every work: the apocalyptic, the evolutionary, and the alternative.

            The apocalyptic theme, although primarily a notion of destruction of the world and dissolution of culture or civilization, typically carries with it many related Biblical ideals as well (the messianic narrative, for instance).  The apocalyptic narrative can be seen in several of our works this semester--chief among them, Parable of the Sower.  In this novel, we have an apocalyptic event--presumably a climate change or the dwindling of a vital resource--that leads to a society in chaos, with virtually no realistic means of governing itself.  This apocalyptic vision provides not only the setting for the book, but the major conflict as well.

The apocalyptic narrative is often seen in secular terms, but since the term "Apocalypse" is borrowed wholesale from the Bible itself, the narrative often carries with it the specific outline of the traditional Apocalyptic myth.  Parable of the Sower is, again, an excellent example of this, since it follows the Biblical tale from the Garden of Eden (the walled, communal "haven" from the dark forces outside), to the Expulsion from Eden (the attack/usurpation of the neighborhood), to the Messiah and Disciples narrative (wandering north, picking up followers, preaching the word of the Earthseed), to the Final Redemption and Residence in Heaven (the arrival at and foundation of Acorn).  The apocalyptic theme can be seen in The Time Machine (as a non-descript event that must have given rise to the tenuous existence between the Morlocks and the Eloi 800,000 years hence).  Both the apocalyptic and messianic narratives are at play in "Stone Lives," as the leader of the Citrine Corporation, Alice, sacrifices her only son to redeem the human race and society from the nightmare scenario of FEZs.  Other examples of apocalyptic narratives are the Terminator series of films by James Cameron, Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (rather tongue-in-cheek, but any book that starts off with the destruction of the Earth has got to qualify as an apocalyptic vision), and Waterworld.  Apocalyptic narratives are always a favorite, and extremely attractive, as they give purpose to our lives, and a seemingly-insurmountable adversity to overcome.  Ironically, the idea of an apocalypse can validate one's existence, and give perspective to a life that appears as no more than a blip on the radar of human existence and experience.

Most apocalyptic narratives exist as a way of exploring how humanity will rise above dire circumstances.  To accommodate these circumstances, a society must adapt, or evolve.  This leads us naturally into the second narrative, that of the evolutionary.  The evolutionary narrative typically explores the adaptive and progressive changes within humanity and society, usually functioning from a logical extension of the circumstances challenging contemporary civilization; as such, it works as a natural commentary-by-relation on today's world, since it is that from which the narrative is extrapolated.  Parable of the Sower, for all of its apocalyptic significance, is rooted in evolution as well, since Lauren and her followers are learning to adapt to their surroundings.  Also, Lauren's peculiar ability to feel others' pain can be seen as a literal evolution (biologically) to another, possibly higher, state of human being.  The Time Machine is most definitely an evolutionary narrative--even more so than apocalyptic--almost to an academic degree; Wells actually stops the flow of narrative on several occasions throughout the text to postulate and expound the possibility of, and the causes behind, human evolution.  "Better Be Ready 'bout Half Past Eight" is evolutionary, but from a strictly sociobiological point of view.  It does not really explore a different timeframe, so much as it explores different and evolving points of view within our own immediate culture.  In fact, "Better Be Ready" is a story of very personal, internal evolution, which is a stark contrast to the sweeping evolutionary models present in most science fiction.  "Bears Discover Fire" is an excellent attempt to explore evolution outside our species; evolutionary science fiction is notoriously human-centric, and it is refreshing to see another society adapt, and for us to be on the sidelines for once.  Another example of an extra-human evolutionary narrative is seen in the film A.I. (presented by our own Liavette Peralta), where robots are created that can love and be loved, and that can make leaps in understanding, synthesizing original concepts from data, rather than just spitting the same data out again.  Evolutionary narratives are important, not only for entertainment purposes, but as a way of furthering the evolutionary agenda, and making it more palpable and "real" in the minds of society in general.  Evolution is a far harder concept to grasp than apocalypse, so it naturally helps to jump forward (or backward) in time to explore the effects of evolution of the human race, as well as the evolution of the Earth in general--and where we fit into the framework.

The third, and probably most vague, narrative specific to future literature is the alternative narrative.  The alternative narrative is peculiar, in that it is easier to define it by what it isn't than what it is.  Basically, if a narrative cannot be pigeonholed or labeled as "evolutionary" or "apocalyptic," odds are very good that it's an alternative narrative.  Generally, though, if one were to positively define the concept rather than negatively, the alternative narrative deals with interweaving timelines, parallel timelines, or alternate presents based on a past divergence.  Alternative narratives are an excellent vehicle for authors to explore the "what-ifs" of reality, and almost always involve time-travel, in some form or fashion, as the catalyst for the creation of parallel existences.  "Mozart in Mirrorshades" is probably the most blatant example of an alternative narrative, as it demonstrates the sloppiness that can occur when time-travel is abused and co-opted by the less-conscientious members of society.  "The Gernsback Continuum" is an interesting thought piece, presenting us with a very personalized look at a possible future that never came to pass.  Even "Better Be Ready" can almost be seen as an alternative narrative, in that both Zach/Zoe and Byron are exploring alternate versions of themselves, Zach/Zoe being the obvious extreme example of the transformation.  Another example of the alternative narrative in popular culture is the Back to the Future trilogy of films, which use time-travel to explore parallel realities and effect change in the present by altering the past.  The alternative narrative is a popular and attractive motion, as it gives the reader (or the writer) the opportunity to explore the road not taken, to postulate on the life they could have led under different circumstances.  We only get one life, in reality, and its refreshing to play out different scenarios based on your action or inaction; it is enabling and fulfilling to harbor the conceit that you can affect so much change in the world around you.

It is very obvious, from the texts we have read this semester, that the future is being written as we speak.  There is no grand, overriding destiny, except that which we choose as a collective race.  In the distant past, humanity lived from day to day--perhaps from year to year--but they were too busy dealing with the hardships of the time to plan ahead for the shape of the next stage of civilization.  It is amazing how the works of authors in the last century have made indelible marks on the present, shaping all of the time between, and much of what is to come.  Much is made of the prescience of some authors, many advocates of their narratives claiming them to be prophets.  However, the future is not predicted; it is made.  And at no time in human history have there been more suggestive models for our future.  JD makes mention, in her 2003 midterm, of her transition from a human "being" to a human "doing," based largely on the impact of the ideas in our texts:

This course has altered my perception of the future simply because prior to our readings, I had never given much thought to our future here on Earth…However, now I project the future in light of current events and advancements.  In addition, I have learned to appreciate the insight, and possible foresight of the authors of this genre.

A good example of how life imitates art is in the phenomenon of "Star Trek."  Sure, telecommunications have been shaped to resemble the communicators of the television series, and many advanced military installations have based their bridge and command center layouts on the bridge of the NCC-1701.  These are concrete examples, to be sure, but more importantly is the spirit of the venture, the persuasive and attractive fundamental principles of Starfleet, the Federation, and the Prime Directive.  If one needs an example of America's buying-into these principles, one need look no further than NASA's Space Shuttle Program.  The Space Shuttle, when it debuted in the late 'Seventies, represented the cutting edge of technological progress, and embodied America's collective dreams of space exploration (fueled in no small part by "Star Trek").  There was a letter-writing campaign to name the prototype shuttle, and an overwhelming response poured forth from the general populace.  When the shuttle was unveiled for its maiden voyage, the name on the side of the craft said all that was needed about America's dreams for a brighter future, an end to social strife, and the eventual expansion of the human race to every corner of the universe.  The shuttle read: ENTERPRISE.

In the past, the future shaped us.  In the last century, however, we have created the technology, the ideals, and the impulse necessary or us shape to the future--and all of the seeds of our possible futures, all of the notions we hope to explore in an attempt to perfect the human race, lie in the literature of the future.