TV Gets Interesting

Yesterday the news broke that Playtone Productions, which is part-owned by Tom Hanks, will be producing a TV series based on Neil Gaiman’s Hugo-winning novel, American Gods. Forbidden Planet International has more details here.

Quite often us bookish types complain that we don’t want to see a whole novel squashed down into a 3-hour movie. In this case, however, we have a single novel being turned into six 10-12 episode seasons. Each episode is an hour, so we are talking 60+ hours of TV (though “hour” may mean 45 minutes when ad breaks are taken out). Compare that to A Song of Ice & Fire in which each book is only one season. Interesting. I see that Neil is on board as executive producer and writer, so maybe there will be additional material.

What I really want to see, however, is the Hugo logo in the credits.

Meanwhile Salman Rushdie has been talking to The Guardian about his plans for a science fiction TV series, which he is writing instead of a new novel. Part way through the interview Rushdie comes out with this:

“It’s not exactly sci-fi…”

Wait for it…

“…in that there is not an awful lot of science behind it”

Well played, Mr. Rushdie, well played.

Hooray for Friends!

One of the really difficult things about being a reviewer is that you get to know a lot of people who have ambitions to write. They all want you to love what they do, and mostly it is OK, but very rarely the sort of thing you’d jump up and down with excitement about. It can get awkward.

So last night I noticed several people on Twitter getting excited about a new story on Tor.com by Charlie Jane Anders. I’ve known Charlie for some time, and I know she can write (she’s won a Lammy, but not for SF&F). I also knew she’s been working on a fantasy novel for some time, but I’d not seen any of her short fiction. “Six Months, Three Days” is a story about how two clairvoyants foresee that they will meet and have a brief affair. Your mileage may vary, but I think it is really good. Check it out here.

This sort of thing makes me very happy.

What Is Feminism Anyway?

Over at the Aqueduct Press blog there have been some interesting developments on the “women in SF” debate that has been rumbling away for a while. Last week Timmi Duchamp posted expressing some confusion as to what Gwyneth Jones meant by “feminist SF”. Today Gwyneth responded, and it seems to me that the differences in definition still remain.

Before I go into this, I should note that Gwyneth explains, as I had rather expected, that the Guardian people had rather caught her off guard on the podcast. I’m not surprised. As I’ve said before, the Guardian people seem more interested in generating controversy than in reasoned debate. My sympathies, Gwyneth.

Meanwhile, back with the question in hand. In her post Gwyneth says: “I haven’t stopped being a feminist, I haven’t stopped writing like a feminist, but the Battle of the Sexes is no longer my exclusive topic.” I’m no great expert on feminist theory, but to me this sounds very much like a second wave feminism viewpoint. Let me try to explain.

First wave feminism was the Suffragettes. That’s fairly clear. Second wave feminism was the movement that started in the 60s and 70s. In theory it was about equal rights for women in all areas of life. In practice it was sometimes more about equal rights for middle class white women, and occasionally about the rights of middle class white lesbian separatists. Sheila Jeffreys is a good example of how things can go so very badly wrong.

Third wave feminism, as I understand it, grew out of a cross-fertilization between feminism and the civil rights movement. Basically feminists realized that discrimination against women was just a small part of a much wider social problem. They also got the idea that working together with other groups on the bottom of the social ladder: people of color, the poor, LGBT people, the disabled and so on, would strengthen their position, not weaken it.

Third wave feminism, then, is not just about the “Battle of the Sexes”, it is about human rights. I’ll quite happily label a post about the rights of gay men “feminist”. But not everyone would. If you still see feminism as simply a matter of “men v women” then you may well see some of my posts as “seeing sexism where none exists” (as I and others have been accused of recently).

Where it gets interesting is if you consider the possibility that the idea of third wave feminism hasn’t made it very far in the UK. I learned much of my feminism in the USA, and from Australians who had been to Wiscon. In her post Timmi notes that when she first met Niall Harrison he had a very different view of feminist SF to hers. Gwyneth is based in the UK. Farah Mendlesohn, whose approach appears to be closer to mine, has spent a lot of time interacting with US academics at events like ICFA and online.

Suppose, then, that when Gwyneth says that having her work identified as feminist means that it is, “marked as unreadable by large swathes of the general sf reading public”, what she is concerned about is that her work will be seen as incorporating the ideas of second wave feminism. And she thinks that is likely because when you say “feminist” in the UK that’s most people still think you mean. That might explain why women SF writers find it harder to sell over here and, as Gwyneth suggests, by identifying them as feminist we may be doing them a disservice.

On the other hand, as I have noted elsewhere, the UK seems to be less friendly to LGBT rights as well. I suspect it may be a class thing. We Brits tend to be trained from birth that rocking the boat is a Bad Thing, and saying the wrong things may risk your social standing. That’s a gross generalization, of course, and probably unprovable, but I still think we need a good dose of third wave feminism here.

The other aspect of Gwyneth’s post that I feel I should address is where she lays the blame primarily on the shoulders of UK fandom.

The trouble is, I believe that the “problem” the fans are are worrying over is largely of their own making. We get what we celebrate, says Dean Kamon (inventor and science populariser). I don’t know much about the man, but that sounds right. UKSF fandom has not celebrated female writers. Sf’s highly active fanbase says “it’s the publishers” but I don’t believe that. I’m sure genre publishers and editors have an agenda, and they probably favour traditional male-ordered sf, but they’re not fanatics. They follow the money. If the sf community had been getting excited about women writers, if sf novels by women had been anticipated, talked about, discussed, on an enthusiastic scale, the wider sf reading public would have taken notice, the publishers would have been seeing interesting sales figures and they’d have reacted positively.

To some extent I think she’s right. As Farah has pointed out, the BSFA Awards have a particularly woeful record as far as recognizing women writers goes. On the other hand, we all live in the same cultural bubble. British readers may not have bought women SF writers in very large numbers, but equally I suspect that that when it comes down to decisions as to which books to commission, UK publishers are much less willing to take a risk on women writers than on men. If the books are not available, people can’t buy them.

I also note that a lot of the writers people like Timmi and I enjoy are not published by the big, multi-national New York houses, they are published by people like Prime, Night Shade, Small Beer, Tachyon, Subterranean and Aqueduct. Books by the successful American small presses are harder to come by in the UK than they are in the US. And that’s one reason why I am very pleased to be selling some of them. There’s no point in talking up women SF writers if people can’t buy their books easily. As Gwyneth says, if we see more sales, eventually publishers should sit up and take notice.

Update: Something had been nagging away at the back of my mind with regard to Gwyneth’s comments about publishers. Eventually I remembered it. A few days ago Ursula K. Le Guin wrote a great post for Book View Cafe. The first part is all about “literary” fiction and its pretensions, but the second half deals with publishers’ fixed ideas about YA fantasy. It is true that publishers follow the money, but as Le Guin explains they tend to follow it in a rather blinkered fashion. So once they get the idea into their heads that the SF that sells best is SF by men, then that soon mutates in their minds into “SF by women doesn’t sell”, and a consequent unwillingness to even try.

Guardian Podcast on Women in SF

The latest Guardian Books podcast went online today. There is some interesting material, including discussion of the development of language, and an interview with Téa Obreht. The bit that will interest most of you, however, is right at the end. Following on from the dreadful David Barnett article, the podcast interviews Gwyneth Jones about the current state of women in science fiction.

It is a bit embarrassing. To start with the podcast identifies Nicola Griffith as “a blogger” rather than “an award-winning British science fiction writer”, which might have been more appropriate. When asked about women’s involvement in the field, Gwyneth pretty much buys into the invisibility mantra by stating that there were almost no women writing before the 70s. And when asked to name five modern women SF writers she can only manage two: Tricia Sullivan and Justina Robson.

To be fair, I think the latter question meant UK-only, but hey: Liz Williams, Karen Traviss, Jaine Fenn. Also I have no idea what editing The Guardian may have done to Gwyneth’s words, or what warning she will have had about what she was to be asked. But it re-affirmed my opinion that The Guardian isn’t really interested in SF other than as a means to get people yelling at each other in comment threads.

Fantastic Women

As you may have seen here in comments, Kari Sperring was a bit concerned that Ian Sales’ list of women SF writers marginalized women who only wrote fantasy. Ian suggested that she did her own list, so she has done. You can find it here. Please add your own suggestions if you have any.

Update: And I should also point you at the Feminist SF Wiki. If you want to do more detailed biographic work about a woman writer, artist or whatever, that would be a good place to post it. (You are welcome to try Wikipedia, but don’t blame me if you spend half your time fighting edit wars against male editors who challenge the importance of any women they see pages created for.)

The British Library Podcast

Here, rather later than I had hoped, is the podcast I recorded at the launch of the British Library’s science fiction exhibition. It will turn up on the Salon Futura iTunes feed eventually, but in the meantime you can download it here.

The show begins with me chatting to various people during the launch reception. They are: Ian Whates, Farah Mendlesohn, David Pringle, Paul McAuley, Jon Courtenay-Grimwood, Graham Sleight and Tom Hunter. After that I take a quick tour of the exhibition to give you an idea of what you can find in it. Finally we have three more interviews with Andy Sawyer, John Berlyne and China Miéville.

Because this took a little longer than I expected, the first Clarke Award tweet-up has already happened. Tom may have some more lined up, but in the meantime here’s Amanda Rutter’s report of the event.

And apropos the previous post, the exhibition’s blog contains a post talking about the many women SF writers who are represented in the exhibition.

Female Invisibility Bingo

One of the interesting things about having lived for some time in Australia and California as well as the UK is that you occasionally notice cultural differences. One appeared to pop up on Twitter this morning. People I followed in the US and Australia (and also New Zealand and the Philippines) were giving the thumbs up to this blog post by Nicola Griffith, whereas the reaction from UK people was more along the lines of, “those boring feminists are at it again.” This immediately reminded me of comments made by Gwyneth Jones and Farah Mendlesohn on the recent Woman’s Hour program, in particular Farah saying, “…the market in the States is far better, the market here is problematic…”.

Now of course my Twitter pals are not necessarily a very representative sample. I don’t think, however, I have a different political mix amongst people I follow in the UK to those I follow elsewhere. And of course the debacle of the feminism panels at Eastercon was fresh in my mind. I do think we could do better in the UK. (And a hat tip here to people like Niall Harrison, Ian Sales and Kev McVeigh who have been doing good work, but why do we have to rely on men to do that work?)

Anyway, regardless of whether there’s an issue with the UK or not, the issues raised by Nicola’s blog post, and the complaints I saw about it on Twitter this morning, still need to be addressed. Of course this is yet another post about invisibility and exclusion. It therefore ties in to a long history of complaints about such problems involving award short lists, anthology ToCs, guest lists for conventions (yes, you, Kapow!) and more recently the number of women reviewers, and number of books by women accorded reviews (overview here).

Is this just women being whiny? Are we finding sexism where none exists? Personally I disagree, because the point here is that sexism is a cultural phenomenon, not just a few random acts by bad people. If you define sexism and only occurring when a man does something prejudiced to a woman then you are likely to find Nicola’s post irrelevant, but unless you get at the root of the issue — what Fay Weldon succinctly described on the BBC Book Review Show as the idea that men are more important than women — then sexist actions will continue to happen. Which is why, every time we see something that suggests men are much more important than women, us uppity feminists make a bit of noise.

Talking of the Book Review Show, the issue of gender balance came up there too. I think we can politely pass over John Mullan’s offhand dismissal that the ladies “were exaggerating”. However, Daisy Goodwin asked why women should care about recognition when they sell more books. It is a good question, but before I answer it let’s look at some of the other complaints raised.

Nicola’s post references Joanna Russ’s famous book, How to Suppress Women’s Writing [buy isbn=”9780292724457″]. In particular she quotes the part where Russ notes the various excuses made for not recognizing the contribution of women to the field:

“She didn’t write it.”
“She wrote it but she wrote only one of it.”
“She wrote it, but she isn’t really an artist (sf writer), and it isn’t really art (sf).”
“She wrote it, but she’s an anomaly.”

There should be a bingo card, and we can add to it some of the reasons I saw given this morning as to why women shouldn’t care about exclusion from things like “best of” lists.

1a. Women shouldn’t complain about exclusion because their books are more popular than men’s.
1b. Women shouldn’t complain because the lists reflect popular taste.

2a. Women shouldn’t complain because it is only critics talking and who cares what they think?
2b. Women shouldn’t complain because it is only fans talking and who cares what they think?

Yes, I did pair those deliberately. That should be sufficient to make the point. Suggestions for further entries on the bingo card are welcome. (And please note that my copy of How to Suppress Women’s Writing is stranded in California. It would not surprise me at all to discover that Russ had mentioned the above excuses as well.)

Back with the point, why does it matter who gets reviewed, who wins awards, who gets anthologized? Because those things will eventually make up his-story. So when people come to look back because, for example, they have been asked to name their all-time favorite SF book, they will only remember the books that history tells them about. The others will be forgotten, and become invisible.

The issue that Nicola was talking about was not one of, “oh, it is not fair, a bunch of sexists have not chosen any books by women”. Rather it was one of, “oh look, women writers have been forgotten again.” And the sad thing is that, because they have been forgotten, people then use their apparent lack of existence to justify the fact that historical lists ignore them.

I should note here that I am not expecting a 50:50 split. Obviously it was harder for women to get published in the past, and it still isn’t easy today. I don’t think that Nicola was expecting a 50:50 split either. She just wasn’t expecting 96:4.

I note also that this isn’t entirely men’s fault. Back in the 70s feminist critics tended to dismiss earlier SF by women because it was too “domestic”. Recent academic work by people like Justine Larbalestier and Lisa Yasek has show that this “domestic” SF was a lot more pointed and satirical than was earlier thought. Justine’s book, Daughters of Earth: Feminist Science Fiction in the Twentieth Century [buy isbn=”9780819566768″] provides a good introduction to some early women SF writers.

The main issue here, however, is that complaining isn’t enough. If we want women writers to get recognition we have to do something about it. We have to talk about them, and we have to get them back into print. Nicola’s post, having noted the problem, was very much all about how we needed to do something, not just sit back and complain. And that’s mostly why I was so sad to see it being dismissed as whiny.

So I’m going to be talking to Nicola, and anyone else who is interested, about getting good SF by women back into print. Suggestions of books/authors you’d like to see available again are welcome.

James Bacon at the BL

Today’s Forbidden Planet International blog includes a guest post from James Bacon reporting on the Out of This World exhibition at the British Library. It is a rather good report, so if you haven’t been yet, or live too far away to have a chance of going in person, I recommend that you check out what James has to say.

Also, for those of you complaining that you have never heard of any of the Fan Writer nominees in this year’s Hugos, James is one of them.

SF on Woman’s Hour

Today on the BBC4 programme, Woman’s Hour, we had a short discussion of science fiction featuring Gwyneth Jones, Karen Traviss and Farah Mendlesohn. This was, of course, sparked by the British Library exhibition, which is having all sorts of wonderful knock-on effects because it has suddenly given us geeks legitimacy with the Establishment. So, how are we doing taking advantage of that opportunity?

I should say at the start that listening to Woman’s Hour is not a pleasant experience for me. I know it tackles all sorts of “difficult” topics, but I still find it oozes middle class smugness and is obsessed with that favorite British social game of proving your moral superiority by demonstrating that you are a better wife/mother/person than your friends and neighbours. (And I chose wife/mother/person deliberately, as it is almost always women whose lives are held up for scrutiny in this way.) Fortunately the BBC has divided the show into chapters, so if you go here, scroll down, and click on Chapter 4 you will get straight to the interesting bit.

Then there is the supposed question to be answered. The programme wants to know whether science fiction is still a male-only genre, and if not why do “we” still think that it is. The obvious answer to that is, “because you keep telling us it is, fuckwit.” Fortunately Farah is much more polite than I am, and was able to demolish the whole idea with some well-aimed academic authority.

The conversation then went on to discuss real issues faced by women writers. Farah made some good points about women writers being invisible or banished to a feminist ghetto, and Gwyneth said that she felt having been labeled as a feminist early on had damaged her career, partly because everything she now writes is regarded as ‘feminist” even when she’s not addressing feminist issues, and partly because, “The word ‘Feminist’ is poison to many sectors of the science fiction audience.”

Karen went on to talk about how she is published primarily in the US where she can make a lot more money and no one seems to find it odd that she’s a woman writing SF. I note also that no UK publisher would touch her fabulous Wess’har series, despite three PKD nominations. Liz Williams has also found difficulty getting published in the UK. Farah then came in and commented about the difficulty of finding women SF writers in bookstores and libraries in the UK, commenting: “…the market in the States is far better, the market here is problematic…”

So yeah, we Brits do not come out of this very well. I have probably noted here before that the US, Japan and Australia all have SF awards promoting gender and diversity issues, but we don’t. I think Farah was right to say at the end that we shouldn’t blame readers for this. I suspect that cultural attitudes amongst publishers, major booksellers and the media are more to blame. But no one is going to do anything about it except us readers and small presses, are they?

Library Love

As Twitter followers will know, I spent a couple of days in London last week, mainly because of the science fiction exhibition at the British Library. The launch party was on the Thursday evening. I went along with John & Judith Clute, and met large numbers of the British SF community there. I probably knew about a third of the attendees, at least by sight. The rest, I suspect, were either journalists or people who donate a lot of money to the Library.

The star of the show, aside from China Miéville who was clearly totally geeked-out by being asked to open the event, was Kazuo Ishiguro. He’s been a Clarke nominee, of course, and he was clearly very interested in the exhibition. Margaret Atwood was not there, but there is a video of her talking about her work in the exhibition. I did a bunch of mini interviews while I was there, which I need to edit together into a podcast.

The exhibition itself is awesome. There are loads of wonderful old books, and plenty of newer ones that we will all recognize. Who else but the British Library would have a first edition of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein? I’m going back as soon as I can.

On the Friday night I attended a panel debate on “Why Science Fiction Speaks to Us All”, featuring China, Trica Sullivan, Adam Roberts and Erik Davis (who writes about fan culture and the like). It was a good discussion, and much of it revolved around how science fiction means different things to different people.

Adam opened up by postulating that while science fiction and fantasy now pretty much dominates the movie business, and is moving in on TV, the audience for such material is somewhat different to that for science fiction novels. He didn’t go too much into why, but later conversation may have thrown some light on a related issue.

When we got to audience questions someone asked why, if science fiction speaks to us all, did his girlfriend refuse to come to the event with him? It was a cheap laugh, but Adam noted that SF is still regarded by many people as something you should grow out of.

That reminded me of this post by Andrew Wheeler in which he postulates that different literary genres are marketed at different age groups. YA is obvious, but you also have cozy mysteries featuring older sleuths such as Miss Marple, and you have “literary” fiction and its obsession with mid-life crises and unhappy marriages. Wheeler classes science fiction and fantasy as the fiction of the student and twenty-something. It is adventure fiction all about setting out on life’s great journey.

This is the sort of classification exercise that I expect to see attract a whole lot of snarky comment purporting to shoot it down with anecdata, and clearly it isn’t universally true. However, there may be something in the idea that the sort of science fiction that people think they need to grow out of is science fiction about growing up and discovering life. After all, once you are a grown up you shouldn’t need to read about growing up, should you?

So I stuck up my hand, and thanks to chair Sam Leith clearly making an effort to choose a few women (China’s partner, Jess, got to ask a question too), I got a chance to speak. Tricia responded with a very interesting comment about how our modern world is in a continuous state of adolescence because it changes so rapidly that we are always having to learn it anew. That, of course, makes it an ideal environment for those of us who are happy to grow old, but refuse to grow up. Once you think you know how the world works you are probably doomed.

There was another interesting conversation brewing about the relationship between SF and video games, but I knew I’d never get a second chance to speak. Then someone in the audience who wasn’t prepared to wait his turn yelled out a question about God, which pretty much brought things to a close.

There are many more fascinating panels scheduled. See here for a list of them. I so wish I lived nearer to London right now.

Le Guin and Atwood Speak

Thanks to a comment from Petréa Mitchell on another post I discovered this somewhat old but fascinating podcast of a conversation between Ursula Le Guin and Margaret Atwood. Despite the chair of the event giving an introduction that causes Atwood to speculate that he wants to see a cat fight, the two ladies get on very well together. There is lots of good material, including Atwood talking about her friend Judith Merril, explaining why The Handmaid’s Tale is set in the Harvard English Department, and describing her favorite science fiction B-movie.

The recording does seem to be edited down extensively from the 2.5 hours that Petréa thinks the actual event took. Consequently we don’t seem to ever find out why we should be believing that Mr. Darcy appeared out of a lake, but other than everything appears to be very smooth.

Banks Lets Rip

The Guardian‘s weekend of science fiction has started a little early. Neil Gaiman has provided a heart-felt paean of praise for Gene Wolfe, but the article that has been gathering all of the attention is this one by Iain (M.) Banks, because it is essentially a culture war article.

Banks starts off painting an amusing picture of a literary writer who approaches his editor with a great new idea for a book, which turns out to be a crime novel so hopelessly stereotyped that it reads like a game of Cluedo (Clue, in America). He then suggests that this would never happen, because everyone would recognize it as a really awful book. However, he continues, the same sort of thing does happen with SF, because no one in mainstream publishing (authors and editors) reads any SF, so they have no idea what goes on in the field (they are not part of “The Conversation”). Literary authors, he suggests, have been guilty of slumming it in science fiction, and doing a really bad job because they haven’t studied the field.

It is a complicated argument, and one that a lot of people either haven’t understood, or have deliberately ignored. The comments thread contains the expected sneering from people pointing out that if a literary author wrote an SF novel then obviously it would be much better written than anything those SF morons could produce, so what is Mr. Banks complaining about? In some ways that may be true. For example literary writers, on average, probably produce better sentences than SF writers. It is something they focus on. But there are many others ways in which it isn’t, especially if you are a science fiction reader.

If you define literary quality along just one axis — the way that literary writers write — then of course they will always produce “better” books. But if you allow other axes that argument doesn’t hold. How you evaluate a book is a subjective decision.

It is also worth noting that the Conversation argument means much less to people outside the genre, and even to younger fans. If you have never read Asimov, Heinlein or Clarke then a book that ignores their influence and tries to re-invent things they did will seem much less stupid.

Other people have wondered what Mr. Banks is so bitter about. After all, the literary crowd look down on other genres as well. This is true. Romance is probably further down the greasy pole of respectability than SF but, because most romance is written by women for women, many men will see that as just the natural order of things. What is unusual about SF, however, is the zeal with which people try to deny writing it. I can’t recall hearing anyone say, “I’ve written this book that is about solving a murder, but it isn’t a crime novel!”

From the Banks viewpoint it must be particularly galling, because he has a successful career in both camps. His mainstream novels are praised to the skies by the literary folks, while his SF is dismissed as rubbish. I don’t know Banks very well, but from what I have seen of him I suspect he is more proud of his SF than of the other stuff, and quite likely puts far more effort into writing it.

The other big question that the article raises is, Who are the targets? Which literary writers is Banks talking about here? He doesn’t say, but there has been plenty of speculation. Kazuo Ishiguro has been mentioned, but he came along to the Clarke Award ceremony when Never Let Me Go was a finalist, and apparently fitted right in. Banks will presumably have heard about that. Michael Chabon has won a Hugo, so it can’t be him, and The Road has also got a lot of approval from the SF blogosphere, so I’m giving Cormac McCarthy a pass. Toby Litt is a possibility. I quite liked Journey into Space, but Le Guin didn’t.

My top suspect was Margaret Atwood, not for The Handmaid’s Tale, which is a great piece of SF, and a Clarke Winner, but for Oryx & Crake, which to me read like the sort of eco-disaster novel that science fiction produced back in the 1970s. However, on Twitter whoever is behind the Gollancz account (Simon Spanton?) suggested that the primary target might be a book called Time’s Arrow. Given that making fun of Martin Amis is pretty much a national pastime here in the UK, I think that is entirely possible.

British Library Update

There’s only a week to go now before the British Library exhibition opens. Newspaper articles are proliferating. The Guardian has a nice photo collection, and is promising to devote the whole of their Saturday Review supplement to SF. My favorite thus far, however, is this piece in the THES by my friend Prof. Roger Luckhurst.

My interview with John Clute in the new Salon Futura also discusses the exhibition.

Somehow I have managed to score an invite to the official launch party on Thursday night. I intend to take a voice recorder and try to gather reactions from the Great & Good there gathered. Hopefully it will be worth podcasting.

The exhibition opens to the public next Friday (20th) and that evening they have the first public event. It is a discussion panel featuring, amongst others, China Miéville, Adam Roberts and Tricia Sullivan. Thanks to Adam reminding me of this on Monday I have booked a seat. Hopefully I will see some of you there (so that I don’t have to be “the shameless idiot who asks the first question” yet again).

Reviews in Strange Places

I know that the tidal wave of publicity for China Miéville’s Embassytown irritates some people in UK fandom. It is very fannish to think that anything that is popular can’t be any good. But whatever you might think of the book (and personally I like it a lot, though I don’t think it is his best), all this publicity is certainly getting science fiction treated with renewed respect. As evidence I offer this article in no less a place than the Wall Street Journal. It is a rather strange piece, and doubtless some fans will find it insulting because it doesn’t show due reverence, but hey, the Wall Street Journal. It matters. It could be the thin end of a wedge.

I was chatting to the Pan Macmillan folks about this on Monday, and the question arose as to where China hadn’t got noticed. The answer, of course, is British television. When a new Miéville novel gets noticed by the BBC and Sky Arts, then we’ll know we’ve made it.

More on the SF Threat

There have been a few follow-ups on that Guardian article I linked to yesterday, the best of which is by Nick Harkaway who is thoroughly unimpressed by the al-Qaida = The Foundation argument. Indeed he argues that it is more or less a tautology because science fiction is the only fiction that deals with the modern world, so there is no other fiction that political visionaries could look to:

Since mainstream literature is apparently defined by not looking forward – literary fiction and its fellows in the UK seem to be determined to avoid discussions of hard and soft technology, to the point of becoming a fiction of the recent-yet-curiously-extended-past, as if we’d never developed the cellphone or cracked the human genome – SF is the only place where possible futures are discussed.

Nick has more to say on that subject in the interview he did with me for Salon Futura.

Meanwhile Mark Charan Newton eschews the satire and makes a more direct science-fictional link to the way the British government has been behaving.

For those of you in the US, Lynne Kiesling is once again complaining about the vast cost of the TSA’s security theatre program, and the lack of any sort of cost-benefit analysis of the work that they do.

There was a fair amount of hope on Twitter yesterday that OBL’s death might result in a cessation, or at least lessening in intensity, of the “war on terror”, but the very next article in my RSS feeds after Lynne’s was this one. Yes folks, the reaction of governments has not been, “the bad guy is dead, we can all relax now,” but rather, “OMG, we’ve just poked a hornet’s nest, we need lots more invasive security measures to keep us safe!”

Really, is anyone surprised?

Cameron Acts on Science Fiction Threat

An emergency police operation today resulted in the detention of many of the leaders of a shadowy, underground organization known as science fiction fandom. The arrests were made under the Prevention of Terrorism Act.

Speaking at a hastily convened press conference outside 10 Downing Street, Prime Minister David Cameron revealed that the organization had been under surveillance for some time.

“We already knew that they were behind the so-called ‘zombie flash mob’ anarchist attack that we foiled on the day of the Royal Wedding. The whole thing was inspired by science fiction novels, and many of the participants were hard core fans,” said the Prime Minister.

“This morning intelligence officers working for the Metropolitan Police uncovered reliable information linking science fiction to al-Qaida. Further investigation revealed a sister organization amongst UK science fiction fans, also known as The Foundation. Their leaders have been taken into custody.”

Amongst the people netted in the anti-terrorist swoop were David Langford, the aging, reclusive leader of UK fandom who regularly railed against the Establishment in his revolutionary pamphlet, Ansible. Mr. Langford was discovered to have large quantities of munitions in his possession.

Many UK science fiction fans are believed to have been radicalized by the Canadian Anarchist preacher, Cory Doctorow, who moved to London a few years ago and has been disseminating anti-government sermons through left-wing newspapers such as The Guardian and Locus (a science fiction magazine based near the notorious Communist enclave of Berkeley, California).

Members of a rival fan organization, the British Science Fiction Association, have quickly declared loyalty to the Crown. However, police sources revealed that they are also under investigation after a recent gathering of the group bestowed honors on a writer called Ian McDonald who lives in Belfast and whom officers therefore believe to have links to the IRA.

The CIA has submitted a request for the extradition of British comics writer, Paul Cornell, who is under investigation for un-American activities involving Superman.

While most of the leaders of this dangerous group are now in custody, some are believed to be in hiding or to have fled the country. Warrants have been issued for the arrest of China Mièville, Ken MacLeod and Tom Hunter, though sources noted that Hunter is suspected to be a pseudonym used by several terrorists due to the sheer volume of his Twitter activity.

Deputy Prime Minister, Nick Clegg, was unable to shed any light on the affair. Asked for a comment, he said, “David won’t tell me anything. He says I’m a security risk because I watch Doctor Who.”

Joanna Russ

In my time I have met rather a lot of authors, some of whom are very famous. I have even, to my delight, shared a breakfast conversation with Samuel Delany. But one person I have never met is Joanna Russ. Possibly that’s just as well, as I would have been utterly terrified of her. Now, of course, I will never get the opportunity.

I will leave obituaries to people who knew Russ well, such as Timmi Duchamp.

For trans people Russ is less of a heroine. She came up through second wave feminism, which was rampantly transphobic, and parts of The Female Man faithfully reflect the then orthodox view that trans women were “really” men trying to replace women with compliant sex slaves.

However, as Roz Kaveney noted on Twitter, unlike some of her contemporaries, Russ was willing to engage with trans women and try to understand them. As a result, her views about them changed markedly, and she publicly apologized for her earlier antagonism.

One of these days I will re-read The Female Man and write about it. In the meantime, however, here are a couple of things to think about.

While Russ might have been re-cycling the transphobic views of Janice Raymond, to a teenage trans girl the prospect of being given a macho-ness test in school that you could fail and, as a result, be required to live the rest of your life as a woman, does not seem like oppression, it seems like potential relief from torture.

The sex slave thing, of course, comes later. Teenage girls of all sorts are not always that sensible about the future that waits for them in a patriarchal society. What Russ missed, however, is that by the time they are adults the Changed will have no more illusions. Most of them will be ardent feminists.

Conformance and Transgression

I hesitate to make posts like this these days having discovered at Eastercon that anyone who tries to defend the literary quality of speculative fiction tends to get dismissed as a froth-at-the-mouth fanboy bent on keeping SF in a separatist ghetto where only adventure stories matter. If that seems odd to you, try reading this, which might explain where the idea comes from.

Having said that, James Purdon provides an interesting a very respectful look at the forthcoming British Library exhibition in today’s Observer.

Also Matt Cheney posts some very interesting quotes about the politics of conformance and transgression. They are not about SF per se, but they provide a useful way of seeing what the whole “not one of us” thing is about.