If It Ain’t Broke,
Then Don’t Fix It!
By Nick Kiene
My father
is an old-school guy. It seems that not a single week passes without him
calling our cabinet “the bureau” or without him referencing the good old days.
I’ll never understand some things about him, but one piece of advice, among other
wisdom, has become a significant part of my lifestyle: I abide that if it ain’t
broke, then don’t fix it. Therefore,
when I observe efforts to distinguish fantasy and speculative fiction (SF)
books, I conclude that readers are trying to categorize the uncategorizable—they
are trying to fix something that isn’t broken.
In my
opinion, there is no need to draw an impenetrable line between the two genres,
as not every reader feels the urge to classify books into a specific genre due
to their variable responses to the piece’s content. I
know what you're thinking already. Long
time SF and fantasy readers are probably furious, too. But can you recall a
single moment in which you considered how the fantastic elements of Neil
Gaiman’s Neverwhere compared and contrasted with the classic SF giants like Zelazny’s Lord of Light or
Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Probably not unless you’re an English teacher or if you are a bona fide, David
Hartwell SF nerd that is contentious in nature. So why not just simplify things
and enjoy the story for what it is? Instead of finding every reason to separate
Wells’ War of the Worlds and
McKinley’s The Blue Sword by genre, focus your
efforts upon reflection on the book’s role in your life and your own
experiences reading books that you enjoyed.
The last thing I hope to accomplish is to raze the walls of
genre, because I believe that separating media into genre is an effective way
to group similar ideas. My point is that when readers encounter books belonging
to fantasy or SF—books that in my opinion, share many mutual key elements,
sentiments, and concepts—he or she might polarize to one side without realizing
that SF and fantasy have some common ground. I understand that assuming readers
segregate into SF and fantasy groups is inaccurate since many fans will indulge
in both genres. However, to obtain the greatest benefit from fantasy and SF,
they should be joined to ensure that more time is spent enjoying the books, as
opposed to classifying them.
I argue that the most appropriate time to make a distinction
between fantasy and SF is when examining the roots of these two types of
fiction. Ursula LeGuin, in “The
Critics, The Monsters, and The Fantasists,” criticizes the literary
community harshly for its egregious disregard toward the history of the SF,
especially the fantasy genre. I empathize with LeGuin’s anger. Her rant
exemplified the naivety of new fantasy and SF readers, as well. Before diving
into the often confusing mix of fantastic and scientific fiction, I believe
that readers should explore the roots of the genres. Determining the origins of
SF and fantasy becomes especially valuable in this case, because a reader is
able to discover the beginning of the genres and observe how fantasy and SF has
blended over the past century. Examining the past is the best way to understand
the present, and I think that most readers can determine tropes, themes, and
plot elements that they will expect in their future fantasy and SF readings. Readers
will then learn to find what is best for them, regardless of the genre to which
the books belong.
Occam’s Razor is a
principle asserting that a solution with the fewest presumptions, with the
least amount of complication and uncertainty is often the best solution. It is
also a more politically correct term for my “if it ain’t broke, then don’t fix
it motto.” Approaching and characterizing genre carries a lot of dangerous
assumptions, assumptions that will please some but infuriate others. Therefore,
I propose that we take the simplest route toward distinguishing SF and fantasy:
we don’t make any effort at all. Enjoy the books for what they are and make
your own determinations. Spent your time reading, not classifying something
that is difficult to categorize. Some SF and fantasy books could not be more
different from each other, but in their own broader contexts, fantasy and SF
often affect readers in the same way: he or she will find home in a completely new
world and learn to appreciate the power of imagination and curiosity.
Nick:
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your approach to this topic in terms of, "Okay, if I say the distinctions don't matter, then what DOES matter?" Between this and your frankly hilarious early links, you win over a lot in many readers' eyes (both because of rational level-headedness and humor).
Perhaps distinctions are old-fashioned constructs, as the analogy with your dad in the opening suggests. They're constructs with a utility, at least for readers and writers in the early stages of building genre literacy, and that's a point you express well by advising readers seek a kind of baseline sampling across genres.
Of course, the question of what the "real" roots of sf/f are is a whole other debacle!
Best,
TT