Last Post of the Term: Herland

Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland was an interesting capstone to our list of readings this term.  Though rather detached from the science fiction genre- it deals very little with actual science, except for passing reference to evolution- it was an interesting exploration of social science- thought experimentation at its best.  Though it was a bit thinly veiled for my tastes, what Gilman has to say about the status of women at the turn of the 20th century is absolutely spot-on, smart and full of wit (both subtle and not so much).  I thought this novel treated the religion practiced by this all-female utopia much more believably than in The Coming Race, with (as expected) goddess-worship taking the place of the “Vengeance-is-mine God” (loved that btw ).  I thought the commentary on capitalism was interesting as well; the women of Herland speak of an “education of citizenship” where learning is not forced, but freely enjoyed.  This immediately conjures up the opposing concept of “education of individualism”, where schooling is a means to an end, that end being a job that allows you to own a horse and buggy that’s a little nicer than your neighbour’s.  After learning today in class about Gilman’s feelings toward cooperative living, this commentary makes sense.

The only part of this novel I had issues with was its treatment of sex.  The inhabitants of Herland, after shacking up with the 3 male protagonists, see sex only as a means of producing children. Since Herland is meant to represent an idealized female existence, Gilman seems to be implying that the ideal sex life for a woman is one where sexual intercourse is minimal if not eliminated altogether.  Although, if you start to think about some of the twisted sex-ed to come out of the Victorian period, this attitude starts to make sense too…

AJ

Futurama S03E01- Death by snu snu!

More Scientific Romance: The Time Machine

I was really looking forward to reading H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine.  Mostly since Dr. J. had referred to it as the first “real” science fiction novel we were to look at.  I had expected something along the lines of Twenty Thousand Leagues- a more-or-less pure adventure story.  I can see, however, that this novel fits into the genre a little better than Verne’s story.  Like I said, Twenty Thousand Leagues is more of an adventure story than specifically science fiction.  Yes, it engages with the science of its time, and extrapolates that to create a really *cool* narrative, but it lacks the social commentary that Wells incorporates in The Time Machine.  I took the future world of 802 701 AD visited by the Time Traveller to be a representation of Darwinism-Marxism (…Darxism?).  You have the Eloi representing the Bourgeoisie, who have “de-volved” to a race of complacent, feeble, dull-witted elf-like creatures, as a result of having completely “dominated” nature (take THAT, Victorian faith in progress!).  Then there are the Morlocks representing the Proletariat.  Eons of subserviance to the Eloi have shaped them genetically into more cunning (and more deadly) creatures that have adapted to FEED on the Eloi.  How badass is that??  I really enjoyed the references to cattle in the Time Traveller’s description of the Eloi….especially this one: “Very pleasant was their day, as pleasant as the day of the cattle in the field.  Like the cattle, they knew of no enemies, and provided against no needs.  And their end was the same” (p. 141).  This line pretty much sums up Wells’ rebuttal against the Victorian concept of the *Advancement of Mankind*- A concept that was very much shaken by the likes of Darwin and Marx.

One more thing.  I was wondering about that odd shape on the horizon seen by the Time Traveller on his last foray into the distant future: “It was a round thing, the size of a football perhaps, or, it may be, bigger, and tentacles trailed down from it; it seemed black against the weltering blood-red water, and it was hopping fitfully about” (p. 148).  Could this be a variant of the Morlocks seen “earlier” in the future?  If so, it would make sense that they outlast the Eloi.  But if this is indeed the case, what is Wells trying to say here?  That man is “doomed” by his innate adaptability to survive until the End of Days, when the seas are barren and the Earth is on a crash-course with the Sun?

AJ

from http://martybell.deviantart.com/art/time-41340729

If you missed out on this week’s reading

…at least go see this movie.  High-larious!

Mathematical Allegory in Flatland

Edwin Abbott’s Flatland really hurt my brain, although as I said before, it was a good hurt .  Our discussion in class pretty much drained me of all I had to say this incredibly dense piece of work, although one thing that I’ve been chewing on since this afternoon is Dr Jones’ question of where Abbott’s use of math fits in with his critique on Victorian society.  I’m going to try and address that question here (gulp).

I think it makes sense that Abbott builds a world based on rigid 3-dimensional objects in order to represent Victorian society.  The polygonal characters of Flatland follow a strict class system that values appearance, and more importantly, proper structure, above all else (it is, after all, Configuration that makes the man).

There are many other examples of how Flatland corresponds to Victorian England (we’ve already talked about the parallels between the Colour Reform and the move to grant universal suffrage, among other things), but what is more important, I think, is what the Square’s journeys to other demensions reveal about Abbott’s sociological convictions.

Coming back to the mathematical side of things, I’ll try and explain what I think Abbot was getting at with his mathematical allegory (bear with me here):

In Calculus, the derivative of an equation is always less complex than the equation itself.  For example, the equation y=x^2, the equation to find the area of a square, looks like this:

While the equation of its derivative, y’=2x, looks like this:

You can tell by the shape of the graph that the equation is just simpler. This also just happens to be the equation of a line (a.k.a a linear function). The derivative of y’=2x is y”=2, (a horizontal line), and the derivative of that is plain old zero, a point on the graph.  Hence we go from 2-D, to 1-D, and finally, to a point (0-D?).  Just like the Square does in his travels!

Anyway, what I’m getting at is that as the Square goes from his universe to more simpler ones, the worldview of the people in these universes gets simpler too.  The King of Lineland cannot see anything that is not directly in front of him, therefore it might as well not exist.  And the points in Pointland cannot experience anything outside their own thoughts.

When the Square and his grandson are talking geometry, his grandson states that there has to be an “x^3″ function, but has no idea what it means.  Though Abbott doesn’t come right out and say it, this is the equation for the volume of a 3-D object, which of course the Square comes to discover.  And, in keeping with the allegory, the worldview of the Sphere is broader and more complex than that of the inhabitants of Flatland.  He treats women equally, for crying out loud!  The Square’s reaction is to fall at the feet of the Sphere and worship him as a God-figure, and not without good reason.  The Square has just discovered a new dimension, and is eager to share this new worldview.

I think Abbot is trying to shake up the pervading society’s faith in its institutions, and urging people to try and attain a higher Truth, even at the cost of ones freedom.  As pointed out in the footnotes, the Greeks believed that studying mathematics would lead to a greater understanding of Truth, so it’s interesting that Abbott uses mathematical allegory to get this point across.

AJ

Please tell me someone else remembers this show

Bulwer-Lytton: The Coming Race

Bulwer-Lytton’s The Coming Race is a many-layered novel.  Part mock-scientific treatise, part political manifesto, this reading, through both critique and defence, turns the mirror on Victorian society.

At first glance, the novel appears to be written in the dry, academic style of Kepler’s Somnium.  The protagonist details his startling fall down a mineshaft, and from there into the fantastical subterranean world of the not-quite-human sprites known as the Navi Vril-Ya.  Much care is given to descriptions of the language of the Vril-Ya (gotta love those fake footnotes), along with the magical substance they use as a source of power- Vril.  Bulwer-Lytton’s descriptions of this all-powerful element bring to mind the Philosopher’s Stone, and seem more likely to be found in a much older text (The Blazing World, perhaps?).  Still, Bulwer’s references to Faraday and electromagnetism in his descriptions of Vril ground this text in the 19^th century.

From dry, rather passionless descriptions of the world beneath us, the protagonist, as he learns more about the Vril-ya, begins to compare their society with his own.  We learn that Vril and its limitless potential for destruction have basically placed everyone on a level playing field; thus eliminating political conflict and societal inequalities.  Poverty is unheard of.  Work is unnecessary.  Democracy is scorned as a failed system that leads only to conflict. The Vril-Ya live essentially in a utopic dictatorship.  The more the protagonist champions the acheivements of his own society above-ground, the more he is ridiculed by the more enlightened Vril-Ya, who have risen above the need for such things as philosophers and philanthropists

The most interesting aspect of the Vril-Ya society is the reversal of gender roles.  Females are larger, stronger, and more inclined to study than males.  Females are the “courting” gender, pursuing the coy males until they agree to marry.  Don’t worry about all these big, strong, smart females getting the upper hand, though.  The Vril-Yas’ motto: “Where a Gy loves, she forgoes all rights”, sees that female Vril-Ya make “the most docile wives”.  And the Victorian ideal is upheld!

I have to say, Bulwer-Lytton really had me going for awhile.  I had The Coming Race pegged as a pro-Communist text right up until the final chapters, when the protagonist finally realizes that the “peace” supposedly enjoyed by the Vril-Ya is maintained only by the threat of utter decimation at the hands of Vril.  The protagonist finds a new appreciation for democracy , which by virtue of its imperfections, is more in keeping with humanity’s desire to continually strive toward some ideal.  The novel ends on a rather bleak note when the narrator predicts the inevitable destruction of humanity by the Vril-Ya, who, in possession of enriched uranium Vril, will no doubt eventually seek to dominate the lesser race of man.

AJ

from fencer.files.wordpress.com

Scientific Romance Under the Sea

…and I’m not just talking about cigar-shaped submarines.  This week’s reading, 20 000 Leagues Under The Sea, is my favourite so far.  I can definitely agree with the general consensus that Jules Verne is indeed the “Father of Science Fiction”.  No reading we’ve seen so far immerses itself in what would have been the cutting edge science of the time as much as 20 000 Leagues.  For starters, the protagonist, M. Arronnax, is a zoologist, and his detailed catalogue of marine flora and fauna give the narrative a distinct scientific flavour that is absent in some of our past readings. In addition, Verne’s descriptions of the mechanical and electrical innovations onboard the “Nautilus” are fascinating both in their believability and in their prophetic nature.  This is the first reading we’ve had that extrapolates scientific and technological knowledge of the time so effectively.

Far from being a purely scientific narrative, 20 000 Leagues also comments on many aspects of human society, and Verne creates some pretty interesting tensions that remain, for the most part, unresolved at the end of the novel…

Society

Is faith in human potential advisable?  Should one take pride in being a member of society? Certainly not, according to Captain Nemo.  But are Nemo’s motivations for leaving society behind to be trusted?  At first Nemo seemed to me something of a Robin Hood figure, showing contempt for the rich and powerful, and great concern for the poor and oppressed (like the Indian pearl diver).  But his eagerness to claim Antarctic land as his own (power-hungry much?), and his general sociopathic behaviour left me scratching my head.

Humanity’s future

What are the future implications of society’s march toward “progress”? Though this novel did not entirely escape the good old Victorian faith in progress, there are moments when Verne reveals a certain concern for its destructive potential.  Nemo seems convinced humanity will destroy itself by war, whereas Aronnax tends to concern himself with the environment.  This is demonstrated most clearly when he convinces Ned Land not to harpoon the pod of cachalots they encounter, for fear of what overfishing might do to these and other marine organisms: “The barbarous greed of fishermen will one day not far removed cause the disappearance of the last whale from the sea” (p. 199).

Imperialism/Oppresion

What is the meaning of the word “savage”?  Are members of the French/British Empires above such a classification? Once again, Nemo is the vehicle for deconstructing the Victorian view of “savage”, when he ironically scolds Aronnax and the others for assuming the tribal Papuans are cannibals: “Savages?…Real wild men, were they?  Persons who have as yet not enjoyed the manifold advantages of modern culture and education?…Why are you so astonished, M. Aronnax, at meeting savages when you set foot on a strange land?  Where in all the earth are there not savages?  And do you for a moment suppose them worse than other men, these fellows that you call savages?” (p. 105).  The fact Verne lets his protagonist be proven wrong says a lot about his ability to write great characters, and also drives Nemo’s point home to the reader.  And yet, the tension between these two characters’ opposing views is never fully resolved.

Attitudes toward Science

What is the purpose of science?  Is science in and of itself necessarily good or bad? I think Verne puts forth a generally positive view of science and technology, with the “Nautilus” as a symbol of what can be achieved through technological innovation, and with Aronnax’s marine studies as the embodiment of the potential for new discoveries through science.  Many of Aronnax’s descriptions of what he encounters are grandiose and majestic.  For him, science is a  means of quenching the romantic thirst for adventure.

The sea is still a very mysterious place.  In the novel it is projected as a mirror image of earth (think smoking a seaweed cigar and washing it down with a glass of whale’s milk), a blank slate for building a new society, and ultimately, the final frontier.  What better ending for the Nautilus and his crew than to be sucked into a vortex, never to be seen or heard from again?  The question of whether or not Nemo and his mysterious crew survive is just one of many that are left unanswered, and perhaps what make this novel so intriguing.

AJ

from http://www.superfunpatrol.net

New Perspectives: Poe and the Fantastic

This week’s readings focused on Poe’s development of the hoax genre.

The Unparalleled Adventure Of One Hans Pfaal is another moon story, but I found it far more interesting than de Bergerac’s or Godwin’s.  Poe’s reasoning is more grounded in science than these earlier narratives, and his speculation on the nature of the atmosphere is well-reasoned.  He even describes using compressed oxygen to breathe, which I thought was rather insightful of him.  It’s interesting to compare the readings on moon-travel we’ve seen so far, and in doing so, track the progression of our knowledge of atmosphere, space, and physics in general.  I appreciated the satire inherent in this reading.  The line “But hoax, with these sort of people, is, I believe, a general term for all matters above their comprehension” was a great critique of popular opinion.  The ambiguous ending was clever too.

The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion concerns the perception of apocalyptic events from a scientific vs theological perspective. I found the rhetoric reminiscent of the global warming debate. Poe’s account of a secularized afterlife with futuristic overtones made for a very interesting end of the world scenario.

I thought The Balloon Hoax had an interesting opening line: “The air, as well as the earth and the ocean, has been subdued by Science.”  I’m noticing a trend with the mid 18^th-century stuff we’re seeing: The domination of nature is a priority for this audience.  Writing in the present tense added to the believability of this narrative, which was written to resemble a real newspaper article, and like Hans Pfaal, took more than a few jabs at popular science.  The line “So resolute is the world to despise any thing which carries with it an air of simplicity.” is pretty clever.  Poe seems to be using reverse psychology to get his readers to believe him.

I always considered The Tell Tale Heart to be a horror story, never considering it from a fantasy/sci-fi angle, but I guess you could look at it as a psychological thriller as well.  The story was written at around the time when psychoses like schizophrenia were first being recognized.  Sort of makes you look at the protagonist in a new light.

As for The Facts in the Case of Mr. Valdermar, this story exposes the scary side of science.  Poe apparently had this published in a scientific journal.  I can’t imagine what journal would accept something like this, but if it’s true, people must have gone absolutely bonkers over it.  The image of Mr Valdermar’s cheekbones protruding through his skin is absolutely nasty, even by my modern/desensitized/degenerated (whatever you wanna call them) standards.  I can imagine how with the discovery of hypnosis this story must have really played on readers’ imaginations.

I had a bit of a hard time with MS Found in a Bottle and A Descent into the Maelstrom.  Both are definitely genre-benders, but I can see where they fit into the fantastic spectrum when you consider that they play on the question of what’s in the ocean (which is still a mystery today, really).  In A Descent into the Maelstrom, the narrator’s account of his hair going white as a result of his harrowing adventure reminded me of a story I once about the Reversing Falls. An unfortunate paddler one day found himself sucked into a vortex and dragged to the bottom of the river, where he met and was challenged to a poker game with Satan himself.  After winning the game he was spat back out onto dry land, but not without a head of snow-white hair.  Whoever came up with that one must have been a Poe reader …But I digress.  Though it may have been a stretch trying to connect these two narratives with “cutting edge science” of the time, I’m sure they will provide some good background for next week’s 20, 000 Leagues Under The Sea, which I look forward to reading.

AJ

from http://www.togetall.com/img/balloon_hoax_story_06.jpg