Week Fourteen: Science Fiction Parody and Satire

Oooooh. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a coveted staple of this generation's popular culture. Seeing it as the topic of discussion for this week evoked so many middle school memories of me reading this book and then proceeding to reference it as if I was so clever. However I feel that reading it as a middle schooler caused lot of the humor to go over my head, so having a chance to re-experience it excited me. I also did not even know that it was originally a radio series, not a book. In order to appreciate it in its full glory, I would have to read the book again (or in this case, listening to it), now as a young adult. At once, I remembered how Douglas Adams has a peculiar way with words, and was particularly adept at presenting what would otherwise be mundane descriptions, as extremely entertaining. He takes common, relatable problems such as the impact of expanding infrastructure on local residents, or the search for the meaning of life, and blows it up to a universal scale, achieving a comedic effect in the end. Placing these issues on such a massive scale amplifies the scale of its proposed solutions, and seeing aliens struggle with the same problems as us only makes them more relatable. The result is hilarious parody on everyday human struggles and not only puts our problems in perspective, but lets us laugh at it as well.

Week Thirteen: Literary Speculation

The distinction between literary writing and genre writing can be... weird. To be honest, I never thought about the two as separate entities until the topic came up in class. But, after a brief research session and reflection on the reading list for the week, I came to the tentative conclusion that genre fiction was mainly for shallow entertainment, following certain tropes of its respective genre, while literary fiction is somewhat self aware, more careful with the delivery of the story and its implications on the reader. Literary writing makes you think... but then again genre writing can as well? I had some inner turmoil as I weighed the two in my mind, before they both kind of melded together into one. And, that was befitting of the subject of this week, which is a combination of the two. Having read "The Handmaid's Tale" in my senior year of high school, it was still fresh in my mind. I considered it a literary work, but now looking back, it was indeed literary speculation, containing elements of both sides. It presented powerful commentary on society, much like other dystopian genre works. However, like dystopian novels, it also adhered to its genre rules, in that it takes place in a future that may be real eventually. The Republic of Gilead is not some far fetched impossible world, it could actually exist someday, and is rooted in reality. "The Aquatic Uncle" on the other hand, was more science fiction, and featured elements of the genre, such as sentient, talking, non-human creatures, and some brief, but effective, world building. The literary aspect of it was its prose perhaps, and its thought provoking subjects. This short story, however, seemed to meld the two seamlessly, into a work that could almost be its own category. I appreciated that aspect, and it was a pleasant experience for me as a reader. Although literary and speculative writing may have distinctions, I think I like it better when the two are combined, and they certainly present a more compelling story when working in tandem.

Week Twelve: Diverse Position Science Fiction

This week, I read the short story "I Live with You" and in class, "Bloodchild". Both were slightly disturbing in subject matter, and gave me a little creeping feeling on my skin as I read through. However, fueled by either morbid curiosity or an obligation to read a story for the week, I continued. They were both very enjoyable, and I can appreciate the science fiction aspect of the two stories. Bloodchild depicted a society with a very clear cut social hierarchy, with an entire species essentially ruling over another. It reflected a culture where the subjugated species- the Terrans- lived on reserved spaces for them by the Tlic. They are also bred, in a way, to satisfy the demands of the Tlic. Not only does this tell the story of an entire race of people being used for the needs of a majority, it allows us to reflect on our own culture. Sure, things may not be as literal as, say, aliens exploiting humans to use as grub-incubating sacks of flesh, but the exploitation of a certain group of people in order to maintain the quality of life for another, more affluent, class of people hits pretty close to home. Behind these bizarre science fiction stories, we can extract social commentary and relate them to modern issues that still plague us today.

The in-class movie for this week, Attack the Block, also focused on a marginalized group, but this time, they were fighting back against the aliens that are invading. After only seeing forty minutes of it in class, I knew I had to finish it later in the day, and I definitely do not regret it. Aliens work surprisingly well as metaphors, and the science fiction aspect of the film only draws in more interest.

Week Twelve (in class): Bloodchild

1. Bloodchild was a very compelling story that revealed the content of its world slowly but surely. My first reaction had been mild disgust, but I was also driven by my curiosity to keep reading. The concept of an enslaved race, forced to become hosts to essentially parasitic grubs is nauseating, to say the least. I couldn't help but feel pity for the Terrans, seemingly subjugated by a superior species on their planet. Gan's decision at the end, though consensual and necessary for their society, seemed bittersweet. Some of the Terrans obviously do not enjoy the current status quo that they must endure, and Gan had also shown animosity towards T'Gatoi for her intentions, but the Terrans are weak politically and physically, and cannot retaliate. Thus, Gan's final decision was more one of submission, an action I couldn't help but feel sorry for.

2. Gan's encounter with Lomas's birthgiving reminded me of the childbirth segment of my high school health class. Stuffed in a dark room with a group of sweaty teenagers and shown several videos of women giving birth produced about the same nauseating effect on me as reading about Gan's experiences. Of course, parasitic grubs sounds much, much worse than a c-section. However, facing the painful reality of childbirth and the fact that I might have to undergo it one day, I could relate to Gan's feelings about Lomas and his own impending fate.

3. If I could adapt this story into an audio podcast, possibly taking on the form of an audio diary of Gan's, or just his narration of his thoughts and experiences. In this format, it would make more sense to drag out the events of the story to span out over the course of several days, rather than one afternoon. The details of the Tlic and the Terrans could be revealed slowly through Gan's experiences with the eggs and his monologues about the world he lives in, before finally leading up to his encounter with Lomas and his decision to be a host.

Week Eleven: Cyberpunk

This week I read "Memories of a Hologram Rose", which definitely reminded me of "cyberpunk". Since the story is driven by the invention of a device called the "ASP", we see the glimpse of a future where it rules almost all media and entertainment. It lets people escape reality by plunging them into an alternate, virtual space, and experience a world through another's recorded sensory memories. Of course, the implications of such technology leads many to be lost in these virtual realities, but can also serve as a bridge between people, letting them share experiences. This cyberpunk future is edgy, technologically advanced but not exactly a bright, shiny chrome. This kind of future is kind of rough around the edges, thinly masking the dark desires of humanity, which have become amplified with the new technology. In a cyberpunk future where human's safest sanctuaries- the mind- can be hacked and tricked, the darker implications of human nature come forward. But human nature is complex, and when explored through altered realities can only reflect certain sides of it, even though there may be thousand facets, like a shattered hologram rose.

On the other hand, Paprika, a classic Satoshi Kon movie, also explores this theme of the human psyche through the altered reality that is a dreamscape. However, it visually contrasts other films of its genre, like Blade Runner, in that is is saturated and colorful, teeming with movement and life. Even with the dark undertones of its narrative, the cover of bright visuals adds to its psychedelic feel, as if everything that was happening wasn't real. Meanwhile, the movie we viewed in class, Blade Runner, was dark, dingy, and hard boiled, truly befitting of its subject matter. Regardless of visuals, however, cyberpunk is more defined by its deep diving stories and hyper-technological future, truly Cyber and Punk.

Week Ten: Babel-17

For this week I read the novel Babel-17, to which I giggled when I realize that this treacherous language was literally named "babble" 17. A story where the mere knowledge of a certain language could manipulate you into betrayal definitely gets the point across: that words hold power. As we explore the power that language can hold, and the fiction of ideas, I couldn't help but notice "Fahrenheit 451" as the featured movie for this week. Though it was a book that I had read in early high school, Fahrenheit 451 wasn't faded from my memory. Both Babel-17 and Fahrenheit 451 emphasized the importance of ideas, and how its power could crumple societies and mesmerize thousands. In both works, it was the idea planted in the mind by words that grew to be powerful, even threatening. Ideas take hold, and they invade the mind, encouraging its host to act according to its wishes and commands. Babel-17 featured a language weaponized to control people, altering their thinking and subsequently, their actions. As we come to realize the true power of language, it becomes apparent that in our modern world, we are manipulated by words as well. With information spreading so quickly and uncontrollably, novels like Babel-17 and Fahrenheit 451 cause us to become aware of its power over us and society, especially the people who are able to facilitate and manipulate its content and spread.

Week Nine: Space Opera and the New Frontier

The concept of a "retro future" is a defining trait of Space Opera and was the first factor that really appealed to me visually. The in-class movie "Forbidden Planet" displayed this trait perfectly, in all its mute colored, analog glory. In this type of future, technology is advanced, but still clunky and analogue, presenting an interesting juxtaposition between the past and the future. From the media we saw in class, space opera seems to capture the dramatic and passionate flare of typical romances, the imaginative creations of science fiction, and the action of face paced flicks of the time period. It is an amalgamation of popular culture all mashed into one, then thrown into the far future, with a setting that can only be described as future imagined in the past. For this week, I read "The Nine Billion Names of God", which has less drama and action than Forbidden Planet, but still held the qualities of retro-future and science fiction suspense. It dealt with existential dread more than Forbidden Planet, but was still reminiscent of its contemporaries. I also watched the movie for "The Martian" (not the book, sorry!) and was pleasantly surprised by its scientific accuracy and attention to detail. This particular story was set apart from its peers in that its drama was much less dramatic, for lack of a better word, and that its science was very well explained and rooted in reality. Space opera is a very broad genre, picking the good bits from many other genre favorites, so naturally, space opera itself would contain a broad range of pieces. The Martian fell on the more scientific side, while Forbidden Planet fell on the more dramatic side, and Star Wars was more action-y. However, all of these films contain elements of each other, and form the wacky genre of fiction known as Space Opera.

Week Eight: The Ocean at the End of the Lane

I still remember first reading Coraline as a child, and then eventually, seeing the marvelous stop-motion animated Laika production in theaters some time later on. In Coraline I experienced a vivid world through a child's eyes, where the supernatural was ubiquitous and a natural part of reality, and where adults seemed to occupy a different space entirely, as if they were a different species. Reading "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" reminded me of all the good bits of Coraline and then some more. In both novels, the line between "children" and "grown-ups" seemed very clear, and to our young protagonists, the distinctions were obvious and non-negotiable. The "grown-ups" don't acknowledge or experience the magic ever-present in the world, and are ignorant to powers that function beyond their physical reality. The boy occupies the contemporary world that we know and understand, but supernatural forces as old as time itself disturb the peace of his normal life on the lane. I particularly liked the idea of these old, otherworldly powers having to adapt to modern culture. The terrifying, canvas flapping monster that is Ursula Monkton presents herself as a beautiful lady to humanity, and gains the trust of the narrator's family. The motives of Skarthach of the Keep are reminiscent of ancient myths; she exploits the monetary greed of humans, feeding on the financial troubles of everyone living in the lane, and appealing to their material wants. When adapted into a modern setting where the supernatural are not taken as seriously, we see these myths take on different forms. Rather than appear as an ancient monstrosity, they assume identities like Ursula's. In Coraline, the Other Mother's world is appealing, it is pleasant and easily accessible by Coraline. Ursula, similarly, is extremely charming, and lives in the same house as the narrator. Both evils are close to home, and alluringly deceptive. In this contemporary fantasy world, the ancient evil is closer than we think, hiding right under our noses, and less ugly than we would think.

Week Seven: The Night Circus

Set in a whimsical and magical environment, the Night Circus plays out through delicate prose that touches on just the right senses to set the scene. Rather than tell a story in a chronological, straightforward manner, the novel skips around the timeline, revealing bits and pieces of its world at a time. I appreciated the sensory imagery immensely, and I personally think mood and atmosphere are a very important element in delivering a compelling narrative. Telling a story of two young magicians forced into a game waged by their masters, the main conflict arises when the two start to follow their own desires and begin defying their teachers. Magical stories of this nature are commonly read by young teenagers and even preteens and have a large impact on their culture and mindset in a very sensitive time in their life. Often, these stories of magic are familiar to us because the protagonists are also coming of age and going through major changes in their life as they pass from child to adulthood, just like the target audience of these stories. The Night Circus, in particular, dealt with the expectations parents impose on children, and the implications of what can happen if the child begins develop independence and stray from the path that has been laid out for them. Marco and Celia were both groomed to follow the interests of their respective "parents" (or rather, mentors), and must abide by the rules of a game waged without their consent. Initially, they follow the paths presented to them, obediently excelling in their studies and competing dutifully. However, as time passes, their own interests develop, and they fall in love with each other. Like a teenager rebelling against their parents as they find their own way in the world, Marco and Celia rebel against their masters, making a statement that children should not be the puppets of their parents. For young adults also trying to navigate their way in the world, stories like this remind them that they are not alone and that their journey is valid. They tell the experiences of a strange limbo nestled between childhood and adulthood, only adorned with magic and supernatural embellishments, accompanying young adults through the foreign, if not magical, land that is adolescence.

Week Six: The Hobbit

I've been wanting to read "The Hobbit" since my early high school days but, for some reason, never got around to doing it until I saw it as the reading for this week. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I can definitely see the appeal to the Lord of the Rings series. Reading "The Hobbit" gave me flashbacks to books like the Septimus Heap series and the Eragon series of my middle school days with its fantasy epic nature and a very distinct "hero's journey" plot line. I particularly liked the episodic nature of "The Hobbit", where the gang encounters dangers one after another but always makes it out in the end. Bilbo Baggins is also a classic, but reluctant, hero, and repeatedly saves the group from each situation. Ironically, despite his attempts to live a normal life, Bilbo is the most exceptional of them all, using his wits and light of step to save all the dwarves on countless occasions. "The Hobbit" follows the hero's journey storyline fairly well, with Gandalf calling Bilbo to adventure, and eventually leading him to cross the first threshold with the troll and goblin fight. The enemies they face grow stronger as the story progresses and peaks when the dragon Smaug is defeated and the dwarves achieve their goal. Bilbo then reaches his apotheosis when he finds the Arkenstone, and then proceeds to negotiates peace between the dwarves and the elves and band them together to defeat the goblin army. Of course, Bilbo returns to his old home with some treasure and is able to continue with his life, now with a few experiences and accomplishments under his belt.

Week Five: Witches

For this week, I read a couple of short stories: "The Cinder Maid", "Fair, Brown and Trembling", "The Baba Yaga", and "The Wicked Stepmother". Though all dealt with witches and magical females, there seemed to be a common element among the stories: the presence of an evil, older woman who threatened the livelihood of the young, female protagonist. This bad witch is usually a relative (an evil stepmother) and is noticeably jealous of the protagonist's youth and beauty, both of which she used to have but presumably no longer possesses because her aging. As we discussed in class, this motif of sorts applied to a lot of fiction about witches and even the idea of witches in general. Perhaps this is the manifestation of a misogynistic view of age on women as an undesirable trait, or maybe it is simply the result of a classic fairy tale cliche. However, I also noticed that these stories usually had a "good" older woman as well, one who gives the young protagonist what she needs to fight the evil power of the bad witch. This good woman usually takes on the fairy Godmother role, as we see in "The Cinder Maid" and "Fair, Brown, and Trembling", and supplies the girl with magical items and charms. In these stories, the "good witch" and "bad witch" take a very active hand in shaping the growth of the young heroine and essentially influence her upbringing. Thus if I were to draw a "moral of the story" from these tales, I would pin it to be more about how aging affects a person's character, whether they become spiteful of the youthful generation or if they instead support the youth and give them the necessary tools to continue building the future. The good witch embraces her age and is at peace with it. She uses her own powers and wisdom, which she earned with age, to help the young girl in building her own life and setting her on her own path. The bad witch is envious of the youth, and constantly has to put down the young girl to boost her own ego. She uses her powers to prevent the youth from surpassing her and is adamant in keeping her power, unable to acknowledge her own aging. To the girl, the existence of these two witches can also act as a warning, since later on in life, the girl has to make her own decision on whether she becomes the good witch or the bad witch. And inevitably, we too will have to choose which path to walk down.

Week Four: The New Weird

The genre of the "New Weird" is definitely... weird. For this week, I read Lovecraft's "The Unnamable" as well as "What the Moon Brings". As a classic writer of weird fiction, Lovecraft's two short stories both gave off a sense of the surreal and the supernatural. In both stories, we can sense the presence of an outer supernatural force, a kind of cosmic power that exceeds the capabilities of our human understanding. This feeling of the "inexplicable" and mystery may be what categorizes these stories as "weird". Yet I feel that this feeling of the inexplicable is also what draws the audience into the story, and what captivates the audience to stay. I liked "The Unnamable" especially because it was truly best told by word as a story, its medium is fitting of the subject. As an artist, I tend to interpret things visually in my mind, but "The Unnamable" was purposely visually ambiguous. Thus, when told in the form of words, we- the audience- only experience the "unnamable" through someone else's account of the monstrous encounter. We experience the narrator's experiences second-hand, and the "unnamable" monster's appearance is thus passed through a filter if sorts before it reaches us. That element of writing has always fascinated me, and a concept that I hope to play around with in my future artwork.

Another interesting aspect of "The Unnamable" was its sense of irony and even self awareness. One of the main characters eventually commits the same character trope that he was disparaging moments before. Such a twist reminds me of other self-aware horror films such as "Scream" or "Cabin in the Woods" in which they poke fun and even satirize common tropes of the same genre that they occupy. This not only provides witty commentary on "genre fiction" but can also be entertaining to an audience jaded by the repetitive elements of the horror genre. I personally enjoy this type of irony since it seems to give second wind to a category of film and writing that is so riddled with cliches. Of course, I also enjoy it because its humorous when done well and can turn something that should be scary into something to be laughed at. When works don't take themselves too seriously like that, its not as intimidating to the audience and also acts as a great area of respite between all the other "edgy" pieces out there. As long as speculative fiction continues to exist, so will counter-fiction and satire, and I hope to consume many of both categories in the future.

Week Three: A Wild Sheep Chase

Upon the first impression, A Wild Sheep Chase seemed like an average story about an average guy dealing with middle age and existential crises. Yet even though it is a "ghost" story, the world and characters that Murakami builds seem very rooted in reality. The narrator's day-to-day conversations are scattered frequently throughout the novel, embellishing his narration with reminders that he is a normal person leading a normal life. Up until the narrator is called upon this wild sheep chase, he is shown to hold a job, have trouble with his marriage, and have a few past relationships- all in all, a normal man. He isn't even given a full name, like many of the other characters in his life. However, what I found interesting is that even with all this realistic world building and development, Murakami spins a tale about a supernatural sheep, whose influence has existed since the beginning of time. Eventually, the mood of the novel moves from one of realism to one of uncanniness and surreality, as more about this sheep is revealed. Having these two very different sides of the world side by side presents a very captivating premise. It feels as if the narrators "adventures" could really happen to anybody, even me. Even with the supernatural aspects of the novel, I felt as if Murakami's world was palpable and that I was immersed in it. I'm pulled in to the plot by the realist interactions of the protagonist and the small details of his life. I loved all the effort put into building I's personality and past, and how it all cumulated in his subsequent sheep chase.

Week Two: Interview with the Vampire

The classic vampire story has come a long way since the days of Dracula and the European vampires of old. Contemporary vampire lore has transformed the life stealing blood sucker into a creature with human relationships and even human values. However, the essence of the vampire has not changed. The foundational idea of vampires is that they are still creatures who take and steal from others, sometimes "corrupting" them to become vampires just like them. But in a modern setting, what the vampire steals may not always be literal blood, and they don't need to have fangs and superhuman abilities to be a "vampire". Humans can also exhibit "vampiric" traits by stealing other people's happiness, by feeding on their misfortune, or just leeching off of their property, instead of blood. Anne Rice, however, still writes her characters as literal vampires, but exhibiting human traits and thought processes. Interview with the Vampire explores the relationships formed by these vampires, and the consequences of their relationships when immortality and moral dilemma are thrown into the mix.
To Louis, our protagonist, Lestat had become a vampire in the truest sense. He took from Louis his humanity, his money, and-for a period of time- his freedom. Not only did he suck Louis's blood, he also sucked Louis emotionally, forcing Louis to stay with him out of guilt and necessity while leeching off of his money and land as well. Yes, he was a traditional blood-sucking vampire, but he was also a vampire in the sense that he sucked Louis's livelihood, fortune, and freedom. However, he also severely depended on Louis in order to sustain his lifestyle. Unable to handle money wisely, and desperate for companionship, Lestat relied on Louis for both. Just like a traditional vampire, who depends on blood for life, Lestat fed on Louis's wealth and skills for life. Louis was the blood upon which Lestat sustained his life (other than the literal blood which he also fed on). As a result, Louis felt emotionally drained and constantly desires to leave Lestat. Anne Rice has thus written a dynamic where the "vampire" not only sucks blood,  but exhibits human "vampiric" traits such as being a manipulative person and leeching off of others.

Week One: Frankenstein

The imagery of nature is a powerful motif in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, and is almost a mocking presence to Victor, who strives so earnestly to to imitate it, artificially creating life in a vain attempt to mimic nature's effortless beauty. The picturesque scenery of Switzerland is always present, sometimes giving Victor a false sense of happiness during trying times. However, it acts more frequently as a moment of rest for the audience, so that the novel isn't a continuous stream of depressing events one after another. Instead, there is always peace before the storm, a period of calm before the characters are thrown into turmoil, creating a story that repeatedly raises and drops the character's- and the audience's- emotions. These "calms before the storm" occur often throughout the novel, and are usually achieved through detailed descriptions of nature, evoking its sublime power. For instance, when Victor is returning to Geneva after hearing news of William, he travels through a breathtaking landscape of placid waters and snowy peaks, with Shelley not sparing a single detail of the grand splendor of his surroundings. In this environment, even our melodramatic hero notes a feeling of peace washing over him. This journey being framed by the beautiful foliage of nature serves as a period of respite from the terrible events preceding and immediately following the journey. It is the calm before a literal storm which, of course, eventually descends rapidly and without warning upon Dr. Frankenstein, once again returning him to a state of despair.
In other instances, the beautiful scenery of Switzerland acts as an ironic backdrop to Victor's state of mind and his experimentations. The vivid imagery of the landscape only highlights the stark contrast between natural life and the life which Victor created in a poor attempt to emulate it. His experiments only succeed in making a cheap, failed imitation of life, his surroundings forever a reminder of his failure. Thus, Shelley would often paint a lush picture Switzerland, teeming with natural charm and effortless beauty, only to have Victor wallowing in misery amid the fresh blooming flowers. The contrast between the beauty of the landscape and the dark thoughts of Victor conveys to the audience the pitiful struggle of man against nature and puts into perspective the hopelessness of Victor's struggle to overpower it.