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Ripples in the Field
Mar. 27th, 2009 01:42 pmIt seems that, lately, when science fiction writers gather, the conversation inevitably turns to race.
One of my fellow writers asked a question last night that I've been thinking about ever since: "Why can't science fiction be about JUST science fiction?"
My answer at the time was two fold. First off, science fiction has almost always been about people (there were some disagreements about that, of course,) but my second point was more personal. That is, that I have always been proud that science fiction has always been the genre of subversive ideas.
Unrelated to race, one of the first stories that I read that profoundly shook my world view was "A World Well Lost" by Theodore Sturgeon, published in 1953. I've talked about the effect that story had on my life in my blogs before, but, though it couldn't be called a happy, queer-romantic story by any means, I had my head blown off by the concept that gender roles / expectatoins, etc. are often projected, rather than innate (ie as in how one of the main characters thinks about the "lovebirds" until their same sex-ness is revealed.) Later, after discovering writers like Elizabeth A. Lynn, I realized science fiction and fantasy was awesome not only because it had the cool trappings I liked (as in spaceships and telepathic dragons), but also because I could see myeslf reflected there... even if I wasn't quite ready to claim my GLBT status.
More importantly, with the help of the authors I admired, I could see a future for myself... possibly even a better one.
I explained all this at Wyrdsmiths last night, and I think I made a compelling case, but something else occurred to me at home while I was falling asleep. One of the reasons race (or the absence of people of color) in the future is so important is because it says something about not only who we will become, who we want to be, but also WHO OWNS SCIENCE.
Any story written today with only white people in space suits is dishonest to the world as it exists today. China seems much more keen on its space program than we do in ours (and it's dishonest... or at least grossly inaccurate to imagine NASA is staffed only by white folks too.) Scientist and science goes beyond race and gender, but it comes from places and people... some of whom are often ignored or forgotten or silenced.
It's the same issue I have with "boy geniuses." I am so sick of that trope, I can hardly enjoy BIG BANG THEORY. I'd like to see some girl geniuses. I'd like to see some geniuses of color. Why? Because showing them in fiction make them easier to identify and nuture in real life. Because it's hard in my own life to say which came first: did I feel comfortable reading SF/F because it was a safe place to consider being gay, or did I first consider the idea that it might be okay to be gay while reading SF/F?
And in the end, I hope science fiction continues to be the genre of subversion, if you will. A genre where everyone can see a bit of themselves in the futures we imagine. I'd like to be some future generatoin's Theodore Sturgeon (oh, to be so lucky!), but even a relatively obscure Elizabeth A. Lynn to some teenage girl opening science fiction for the first time and seeing herself and her reality reflected in a future she wants to build.
One of my fellow writers asked a question last night that I've been thinking about ever since: "Why can't science fiction be about JUST science fiction?"
My answer at the time was two fold. First off, science fiction has almost always been about people (there were some disagreements about that, of course,) but my second point was more personal. That is, that I have always been proud that science fiction has always been the genre of subversive ideas.
Unrelated to race, one of the first stories that I read that profoundly shook my world view was "A World Well Lost" by Theodore Sturgeon, published in 1953. I've talked about the effect that story had on my life in my blogs before, but, though it couldn't be called a happy, queer-romantic story by any means, I had my head blown off by the concept that gender roles / expectatoins, etc. are often projected, rather than innate (ie as in how one of the main characters thinks about the "lovebirds" until their same sex-ness is revealed.) Later, after discovering writers like Elizabeth A. Lynn, I realized science fiction and fantasy was awesome not only because it had the cool trappings I liked (as in spaceships and telepathic dragons), but also because I could see myeslf reflected there... even if I wasn't quite ready to claim my GLBT status.
More importantly, with the help of the authors I admired, I could see a future for myself... possibly even a better one.
I explained all this at Wyrdsmiths last night, and I think I made a compelling case, but something else occurred to me at home while I was falling asleep. One of the reasons race (or the absence of people of color) in the future is so important is because it says something about not only who we will become, who we want to be, but also WHO OWNS SCIENCE.
Any story written today with only white people in space suits is dishonest to the world as it exists today. China seems much more keen on its space program than we do in ours (and it's dishonest... or at least grossly inaccurate to imagine NASA is staffed only by white folks too.) Scientist and science goes beyond race and gender, but it comes from places and people... some of whom are often ignored or forgotten or silenced.
It's the same issue I have with "boy geniuses." I am so sick of that trope, I can hardly enjoy BIG BANG THEORY. I'd like to see some girl geniuses. I'd like to see some geniuses of color. Why? Because showing them in fiction make them easier to identify and nuture in real life. Because it's hard in my own life to say which came first: did I feel comfortable reading SF/F because it was a safe place to consider being gay, or did I first consider the idea that it might be okay to be gay while reading SF/F?
And in the end, I hope science fiction continues to be the genre of subversion, if you will. A genre where everyone can see a bit of themselves in the futures we imagine. I'd like to be some future generatoin's Theodore Sturgeon (oh, to be so lucky!), but even a relatively obscure Elizabeth A. Lynn to some teenage girl opening science fiction for the first time and seeing herself and her reality reflected in a future she wants to build.