Cathy Chen: "Iron Man or Man in Iron?"

Iron Man or Man in Iron?

by Cathy Chen

What superhero do you want to be?

            You've probably heard this question all throughout your childhood, maybe even in a college interview. The answer is obviously Iron Man. We’ve grown up with ideas of outrageous superpowers, like the armor and the light beams,  to save the day! But, we also believe that these superpowers are too futuristic and instead of assuming the position of superheroes, we all fall back to our mundane lives. Yes, I try to save the day by unclogging my friend’s toilet or by sending my teacher a get-well email, but those pale in comparison to saving the world.

            In speculative fiction and fantasy, though, all of our wildest dreams are put into reality. You want to fly? No problem. You want telepathy? No problem. Now, we want those superpowers that used to seem so far away. Let me just  casually install an arc-reactor into my chest so a crazily engineered suit of armor can magnetically attach to my entire body. But, I stop myself. Why that is, you say? Well, the fact that technology has not advanced this far is a factor, but it’s mainly because the question of “How human are you?” arises if I actually was able to become Tony Stark, especially since no human can be that attractive. The fear kicks in when we realize we even have to ask that question about our fundamental body, not just about our appearance. Losing my identity, sanity, humaneness. Ethical, moral, religious conflicts. How far is too far? No one really has an answer. Being Iron Man doesn’t sound that cool anymore when I have to lose my classification as human. Science fiction and fantasy is exactly this: throwing in the awesome things you’ve always imagined, but then, playing with your most dreaded fears as well. For us readers, that’s what makes SFF so fabulous.

           

            Science fiction gives you the awe of being able to stretch science to its potential (rid the human race of disease!), but then throwing the consequences of unethical practice or advanced artificial intelligence right back at your face (my babies will look exactly like your babies!). I would say that the fear of no longer being you often comes along with the longing for the excessive attainment of technology in science fiction.

            Take Pat Cadigan’s “Pretty Boy Crossover” for example.  Being “Pretty” is now the societal norm, where you transform yourself into data. However, due to our limitations in understanding technologicalization (I just made a new word), we see being “Pretty” as “being so genetically modified that the person is barely human afterwards”. Never getting old is definitely something I wish I had, but being in a society that promotes genetic modifications to get this

quality …that’s a little disturbing. Actually, a lot disturbing. That’s even further than gleaming armor that listens to me and flies around. It’s no longer the society where we see glaring signs posted throughout Chipotle that push for organic foods. We didn’t “wake up like this” if we genetically modify ourselves. 

            On the other hand, the scary thing about fantasy is being stuck in it forever. Loss of humaneness is more attributed to the feeling of hopelessness rather than the loss of identity, like in science fiction. We go through the normal process of Philip Martin’s recovery and escape, but the consolation can be hard to find. In George R.R. Martin’s The Hedge Knight, Dunk goes on a long adventure only to find his best companion is actually of royal blood. Through battles and trials, Dunk and Egg survive, even though they emerge with guilt. The ending just made the story a gory piece and made me think the story’s theme was  “sucks that I killed several people, but I’m going to live on with my squire”. No consolation there. Humans feel defined by actions, so being hopeless in looking at the given world in a new light strips away from our ability to advance the human condition, as IMSA kids would say.

            We take pleasure in seeing our imagination on paper and that’s exactly what SFF is. It explores the fear of hopelessness and loss of humaneness to add to the thrill of the plot-line that we oh so love. Of course, different readers have different fears that they enjoy reading. What’s yours?