Robots and Spaceships? SF Digs Deeper
Kaitlyn Schmieder
Science
fiction’s individuality is tied to its ability to weave science and speculation
into stories that explore topics ranging in complexity from outer space battles
to analyses of the human condition. I admit I haven’t been able to get through
all the Stars Wars movies, but that
doesn’t mean I’m not a fan of SF. Earlier in the year, I described myself as an
“armchair anthropologist.” I’ve found that the aspect of science fiction that
has attracted me is its ability to allow a reader to learn about humanity
without having to venture into the real world (because I’d rather stay huddled
under a Snuggie). Science fiction taps into the natural curiosity of readers to
explore endless invention, and although technology and advancement are
essential elements of the genre, the coexistence of logic and emotions allows
SF to become much more complicated than that. I think that truly great
literature is able to explore the human condition and address how humans are
able to relate to the changing world; science fiction is not just a genre about
robots and high-tech spaceships – what keeps me reading is the expression of
authors’ emotions about change, society, and humanity itself. Science fiction stays within the realm of the
of the familiar world, and through speculative worlds we can learn about our
own world.
How
can a story about robots possibly make me feel
anything? That’s exactly what I asked myself as I turned to the first page of
the short story, “Do Supertoys Last All Summer Long?” by Brian Aldiss. In
short, it was more depressing than the end of any Nicholas Spark’s movie. A
small robot child has endless adoration for his human mother, and my heart
broke as the mother (or Lord Voldemort in disguise) found herself unable to
love him back. The concepts of the futuristic society and the race of
human-like robots were exceedingly interesting, but what kept my attention
throughout the story was the relationship between the mother and the robot
child, and the ability of the story to tilt my perception on the genuineness of
emotions in nonhuman life forms. Humans are distinct from other species on the
planet, but scientific studies have shown that other animals have encounters
similar to our own. Chimpanzees can communicate via sign language. Crows use
reasoning to solve problems rather than trial and error. If other species can
have human-like traits, what exactly does it mean to be a human individual?
“The Cold Equations,” by Tom Godwin was one of
the first short stories that introduced me to social science fiction; a story
that I initially assumed to be merely about outer space turned out to be a
story about the concept of human death. Author
Tom Godwin plays with the futuristic setting of a desolate space frontier that
must abide by the strict laws of nature. Beneath the science-related content is
a life lesson of forgiveness, “But it’s so different when you have to die---
you wish you had told them while you could, and you wish you could tell them
you’re sorry for all the little mean things you ever did or said to them.” It
simply wasn’t fair that an innocent girl had to die because of the rules of
nature, and that’s why I slammed my laptop shut after having been prepared to
read a tiresome tale of space travel.
I
didn’t consider myself a science fiction fan before taking a course on
speculative fiction. Walking away from the class with emotionally resonant
stories has allowed me to take a more enlightened perspective on the genre, and
the complex theme of human nature will keep be reading long after I have left
the class.
Kaitlyn,
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy you did find stories in this class that gave you good cause to feel and react. Too often, in an educational context, stories are boiled down to analysis and structure, looked at the way you might look at an erector set. While there's definite value to a structural understanding of stories, allowing them to hit you in the feels -- even if they are about things you didn't expect COULD do this -- is really just allowing them to do their job.
best,
TT