LITR 4632 Literature of the Future

Sample Student Midterms 2009

Paul Acevedo

29 June 2009

Myriad Possibilities

I signed up for Literature of the Future because I have always enjoyed science fiction and I thought this would be a fun class. Throughout my college career, I have been required to read many texts that I would not ordinarily read on my own. This has certainly broadened my horizons, but I have had precious little time to read the science fiction that I know and love. Literature of the Future is one of the few classes in which the reading does not seem like work at all; I would have read most of these stories anyway. In fact, I have read “Bears Discover Fire,” “The Garden of Forking Paths” (ugh), and The Time Machine in the past, and I am familiar with some of the other authors of our texts like Ursula K. Le Guin and William Gibson. Looking at our reading list before class began, the short story collections Future Primitive and Burning Chrome had me expecting a division between ecological and technological themes in the class. Little did I know that the professor would instead divide the narratives of the future into apocalyptic, evolutionary, and alternative categories.

Class began with a focus on apocalyptic narratives. Much to my surprise, our first readings were two books of the Bible: Genesis and Revelations. Linking the two books together makes sense since they are about the beginning and end of the world. Most importantly, they set up a way of thinking that has profound effects on religious folks and literature in general. According to Genesis, humans once lived in a blissful state of being before being cast into the world as we know it for our imperfections. Yet this world was created just for us and all of its animals and resources belong to us and nobody else. Revelations concludes the Bible with prophecy: it is about an end that has not happened yet but is already written. Humanity can do nothing to escape the planet’s destruction other than live piously in order to reach heaven. We have a choice, but it amounts to no more than “do what you are told or suffer the consequences.” Revelations is popular because it depicts a dramatic, sweeping chaos that sweeps over the world. Elegant symbolism abounds, such as when Jesus’ mouth emits “a sharp two-edged sword,” or when a woman rides on top of a seven-headed, “scarlet coloured beast.” The sword from Jesus’ mouth symbolizes “the power and force of his message” (“Jesus Unveiled”). The woman, a prostitute, represents carnal sins; the beast’s red color can symbolize blood, fire, sin, and anger; its seven heads echo the number of perfection established in Genesis. Thus the woman and beast are a sublime pair – beautiful, perfect, and deadly.

A more realistic depiction of apocalypse can be seen in Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower. In this novel, catastrophic global climate change (presumably as a result of humanity’s actions or sins) brings about an apocalypse. Resources like food and water are extremely scarce and the majority of the world falls into ruin. People live in constant danger of violence, theft, and cannibalism. The worst threat is from a growing cult of anarchists who seek to destroy the remnants of civilization with fire. Here fire symbolizes chaos and disorder – the end of life as we know it. Parable’s world is essentially the scorched earth that ST. John prophesized in Revelation. But the situation is not without hope. The protagonist, Lauren struggles to survive after the loss of her family and home. Her remarkable adaptive ability allows her to survive and build a new family and a new religion. Rather than give up and devolve into cruel savages like the burners, Lauren and her friends take the first steps towards rebuilding society. Thus Parable’s narrative is not only apocalyptic but also evolutionary.

While apocalyptic narrative has a religious origin, evolutionary thinking is grounded firmly in science. The scope of time is much grander, as the earth’s lifespan of billions of years is taken into account. A lot can change in that span of time, as author H. G. Wells observes in The Time Machine. The Time Traveler leaps forward 800,000 years in the future and discovers that humanity has split into two distinct races, the Eloi and the Morlocks. The Eloi are weak, docile vegetarians who dwell above ground while the Morlocks are cold and monstrous subterranean carnivores. Indeed the Morlocks look after the comfort of the Eloi, providing them with food and clothing, but they also slaughter and eat the Eloi for food. Wells conceives this situation as the final evolution of the relationship between the ruling class and the working class: in the future the wealthy will dwell above ground in peace while the poor are forced to live underground and serve their masters. In time this division harms both groups of people. The Time Machine’s analysis of classism epitomizes the purpose of science fiction: to use imaginary elements and situations in order to shed light on issues that we face today.

Paul Di Filippo’s “Stone Lives” is an evolutionary tale that takes place in the near future rather than the far future. Governments have given way to “Free Enterprise Zones―urban, hi-tech, autonomous regions where the only laws [are] imposed by corporations and the goal [is] profits and dominance.” This shift does not seem to make people much happier than they are now. The poor live in even more squalid conditions and the rich live in dangerous corporate competition with each other. Yet progress is everywhere, as evidenced by people’s much longer life spans, cybernetic eyes for the blind, and flying vehicles than travel great distances very quickly. The evolutionary concepts of adaptation and natural selection (survival of the fittest) pervade “Stone Lives.” The main character Stone initially lives in the “Bronx Jungle,” a dangerous environment where survival is his only concern. The powerful corporations compete to destroy one another and come out on top. Stone lives through a militant corporate attack the end only because he learned survival skills in the Bronx Jungle. These concepts are not foreign to those of us who live in a capitalist society. Evolution is not always glamorous, but it is often realistic.

Apocalypse and evolution may be seen as competing philosophies, but another type of future narrative exists as well: the alternative narrative. Alternative narratives are built around the concepts of branching outcomes. Rather than the predetermined future of Revelation or a natural evolutionary outcome like The Time Machine, alternative narratives include alternate realities and alternative histories. “Mozart in Mirrorshades” by Bruce Sterling and Lewis Shiner deals with alternative histories. Corporations of the future utilize time travel to go back into the past and pillage resources. This has no harmful outcome on the time travelers’ future because each plundered past exists in an alternate branch of time. They can do anything they want and return to the same future that they left. This raping of an era’s resources without consideration of the effects of its inhabitants closely parallels the European colonialism that persisted for centuries in the real world. The ethical considerations of advancements in technology are common science fiction themes.

William Gibson’s “The Gernsback Continuum” looks at an alternate future instead of alternate pasts. A modern-day photographer is tasked with photographing various examples of Art Deco architecture. The Art Deco movement of the early twentieth century represented a clean, sterile vision of the future. While taking pictures of this once-futuristic architecture, the narrator “[penetrates] a membrane of probability” and starts seeing Art Deco vehicles, cities, and people around him, as if that future had actually come to pass. This continues until a final vision of a futuristic blond white couple leads frightens the narrator. He sees them as monocultural and realizes that he would rather live in a world of diversity, regardless of its imperfections. Just as there are multiple possible futures, no single future will be perfect for everyone. Of all the stories I have discussed, “The Gernsback Continuum” is the most grounded in reality, but its message is no less profound.

            Looking at the literature of the future through the lens of three distinct (and yet occasionally intertwining) categories has been fascinating. While I love reading science fiction, I usually avoid apocalyptic narratives. As Pamela Richey said in her 2007 essay, “[They are] linear, marching through time to a goal of destruction and, not decay, annihilation.” The end of the world is a somber and depressing concept to me. But the small human triumphs of Parable are truly touching. Evolutionary narrative’s assertions that we can continue to grow, adapt, and improve are far more hopeful. The Eloi may not be what we hope for in our evolution, but the last words about them in The Time Machine always stick with me: “…Even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of man.” Alternative narratives are usually fun because they offer new looks at established ideas and situations. I would never have imagined Mozart traveling into the future as he does in “Mirrorshades.” Collectively, the three types of narratives of the future allow us to see things from a variety of viewpoints and gain new insights into the world around us.

Works Cited

“Jesus Unveiled.” My Search for Jesus. 29 June 2009. 05 May 2009.

http://mysearchforjesus.wordpress.com/2009/05/05/jesus-unveiled/