Monday, December 29, 2008

Science Fiction: An Escape and a Reminder

I'll admit it: we're a family of science fiction geeks. While I was in college, I read lots of science fiction novels, most enjoying the writings of Isaac Asimov and Larry Niven. But over the years my reading has tended to go in cycles: in the 1980s, I read a lot of history, biography, and philosophy (the writings of Barbara Tuchman and William McNeill; the memoirs of George Kennan, the one-year diary of Czeslaw Milosz; the non-fiction writings of Walker Percy); in the 1990s, I was into environmental/science writing (example, Barry Lopez) and, as I prepared to teach literature classes, shorter writings from world literature (my favorite: the writings of Basho); in the 2000s, my reading became increasingly political (Seymour Hersh, George Packer, Thomas Ricks, Ron Suskind, A.J. Rossmiller; online bloggers Steve Benen, James Fallows, Kevin Drum, Josh Marshall, Matthew Yglesias, Scott Horton). Of course, I read other kinds of writings during those years--novels by Anita Brookner, Barbara Pym, Penelope Lively, Joanna Trollope and her great-great uncle Anthony Trollope; poetry of Margaret Gibson, Octavio Paz, Czeslaw Milosz, Mary Oliver, Billy Collins, Seamus Heaney, David Bottoms, Stephen Dunn, etc.--but my larger focus seemed to be as I have described above.

However, I never lost my love for science fiction, which, in its projection of the human story into space and time, carries with it a certain optimism (in other words, humans haven't totally obliterated themselves) coupled with analysis and criticism of human behavior (in other words, humans keep making the same mistakes over and over while trying to find creative ways to amend those mistakes). When Benton was four years old (my husband and I had finally purchased a television after living ten years without one), he and I would watch Deep Space Nine together. As Benton grew older, his Christmas and birthday presents would inevitably include a science fiction novel or two (among his favorite writers now: Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Gregory Benford, Ben Bova, Robert Heinlein). Our daughter tends to like novels on the fantasy end of the science-fiction/fantasy spectrum (Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Tamara Pierce, Madeleine L'Engle, Douglas Adams, Eva Ibbotson--and, of course, Isaac Asimov). I once read Tolkien's Lord of the Rings to the kids as an evening bedtime story. We are all fans of Tolkien.

We're also fans of Firefly, a great series that Fox canceled after one season, and Space: Above and Beyond, another cancelled series on Fox. Firefly, a creation of Joss Whedon, had such a following as to support a movie to tie up the loose ends of that series (Serenity), while Space: Above and Beyond remains in science fiction purgatory, the characters caught in a war in which it's not certain humankind will survive although there is a glimmer of hope that the alien enemy is made of the same star stuff as humans.

What's so fascinating about science fiction is its creation of alien worlds so unlike our own physically that nonetheless retain characteristics that are like our world (and so, science fiction presciently describes ideas that are sometimes actualized in our world) . The stories provide escape from the ordinary while also examining what is all too human: emotions and motives. In the late 1990s, I would occasionally watch late at night a segment of the final seasons of Babylon 5. I never saw the entire series, but a couple of years ago I purchased the first season for Benton and have finally purchased the entire series for him. Benton has watched most of season 3, while this holiday break, we have all been catching up with season 2. (The series improves quite a bit from season 1 to season 2, so it's worth staying with the series through that first season.) As we've been watching episodes this week, I am reminded of events in our own world.

In the world of Babylon 5--a space station meant as a gathering place for aliens and humans to promote intergalactic peace--the Narns and the Centauri have long been enemies. The Centauri captured the Narn homeworld and enslaved the Narn; the Narn eventually freed themselves through violent, terroristic conflict. The Centauri continue to respond to their imperialistic impulses; the Narn continue to distrust the Centauri. In the episodes we have just watched, the Narn and the Centauri have taken up their ancient grievances and have begun fighting again. Londo Mollari (played by Peter Jurasik), a Centauri ambassador on Babylon-5, has made a pact (unknowingly) with an ancient, evil race in order to realize those imperialistic desires. A Narn outpost is obliterated; the Narn respond in angry and horrified violence. Another Narn outpost is obliterated; the Narn try to get the humans and aliens to unite against the Centauri.

It's the all too familiar story of human conflict. One tribe seizes the lands of another, enslaves another, and the enslaved vow vengeance. Today, Hamas launches missiles into Israel from poverty-stricken Gaza. Israel retaliates. Violence leads to violence. It is a never-ending cycle. Babylon 5 shows us characters caught up in a similar cycle; these are characters to whom we are sympathetic even as as we decry their individual choices. We are horrified when Londo Mollari makes that first commitment to a mysterious ally to have a Narn outpost destroyed; we watch in sadness as Mollari transforms from a comic to a tragic figure who realizes, regrets, yet remains committed to his bloody, genocidal choices. We sympathize with G'Kar (played by actor Andreas Katsulas) as he wrestles with his desires for revenge and his hopes for an alliance with the humans. We know that the escalating war is a cycle of attrition, revenge, and retaliation which can only be escaped by inhumanly distancing oneself from one's situation, by seeing one's enemy as one's self.

And so science fiction reflects reality in that it has yet to provide for us any other way out of the cycle of destruction and despair, of revenge and retaliation: we must see the Other as ourselves.

Today's reading:

1 comment:

Chris said...

"I once read Tolkien's Lord of the Rings to the kids as an evening bedtime story." Now THAT was a long evening! :-)