“A writer must have a sliver of ice next to his heart.” I forget who said that but it’s something I try to keep in mind. It means that everyone and everything is fair game. And that sliver of ice next to the heart often earns an icepick through the skull.
To avoid this, writers invented fiction. It’s an odd game of make believe. People write bluntly about people they know and they’re forgiven because they call it a lie. Sometimes that isn’t even enough and to compensate, writers invented science fiction.
It’s a game of make-believe layered on top of another game of make believe. One may not be able to write about a fictional Stalin if the setting is real but they may be able to write about Stalin if the setting is suitably unreal. It, like all fiction, is essentially a way of saying the things that may get you in trouble if you just said them.
The main difference is one of degree. You may be socially ostracized if you say the sorts of things one finds in mainstream literature. If you say the sort of things one finds in the best science fiction, you may be put into a mental institution. Men with guns might show up. You may disappear. The more dangerous the truth, the more one needs the lie.
To compose decent science fiction, the writer must ask a question: If I just came right out and said this, how much trouble could I get into? If the answer is not very much, then they should write realism. Anything less is a bit cowardly. But, if they figure that they could get into a great deal of trouble for saying directly what they have to say, that men in white coats may arrive, then they should write science fiction. It’s the art of last resort.
The thing is, it’s 2008 and western people can pretty much say what they please. As a result science fiction has started dealing with the same subjects as mainstream work while mainstream work now finds it safe to tackle the traditional subjects of science fiction. You would have to say some pretty crazy shit before people locked you up for it.
The reasons that justified science fiction are obsolete. As an artform, it’s worse than dead. It’s irrelevant. And mainstream fiction is going the same way. If it’s safe to speak the things that science fiction could only say in fiction, it’s certainly safe to speak the things fiction could only say. In short, the shell game is over.
Or so it would seem.
In reality, the job has just gotten tougher and, as my Nan used to say: “A poor workman blames his tools.” (She stopped saying that after being exposed to the quality of modern tools.)
It’s fine for some science fiction writers to stray into the mainstream as well as for some mainstream writers to stray into science fiction. But it also means that neither are doing their jobs. What else is new? Our whole society seems predicated upon people not really doing their jobs. Why should literature be any different?
The writer of science fiction must find the subjects that can still get them locked up. The writer of straight fiction must find the subjects that can still get them thrown out of the wine galas and disowned by their families. It’s not easy but it’s fundamental. And it never was easy. People have always taken the ambient bullshit for granted.
Writing is not an act of courage but it should be based on one.
pic knicked from Mike Mignola
