Ursula K. Le Guin, giving her acceptance speech at the National Book Awards, stated that we needed writers who knew “the difference between the production of a market commodity and the practice of an art. Developing written material to suit sales strategies…is not quite the same thing as responsible book publishing or authorship.” Le Guin posited that Science Fiction and Fantasy (SF/F) were tools for imagining alternatives to capitalism.
A week prior to the National Book Awards, The Guardian published an article by Oscar Williams covering the Mindshare UK event, where Buzzfeed UK’s creative director and an event representative argued that Science Fiction over the last twenty years had become less imaginative. “[M]ore recent sci-fi film and literature has been less ambitious and…this could hamper future innovation.” They referenced 2001: A Space Odyssey’s Hal 9000 and compared him/it with Apple’s Siri, mentioned the touchscreens featured in Minority Report, and “the 70 predictions made in 1984 that have now been realised.”
A little over a month later, The Guardian published another article on the climate of SF/F, this time by Damien Walter, positively noting that 2014 was the year that the genre “woke up” to diversity, naming, amongst several titles, Anne Leckie’s Ancillary Justice, which reimagines the importance (or lack thereof) of gender. Leckie’s novel won the Hugo, Nebula, Clarke and BSFA awards and some of the best novels of 2014, Walter notes, were from the science-fiction and fantasy genres. Of course, awards organizations haven’t completely ignored diversity. I recently finished The Snow Queen by Joan D. Vinge, a science-fiction epic that contains substantial gender and racial diversity and that won the Hugo Award in 1981. However, Walter rightly points to the increasing volume and acceptance of these works by readers and publishers.
Within the span of one month, we have contradictory viewpoints about what makes “good” science-fiction and fantasy and apparent agreement that these genres should be instrumentalized to serve social purposes.
I read the comments by Buzzfeed’s creative director with irritation and wondered if he was blithely ignoring the tomes of interesting science-fiction literature being produced by authors like China Mieville, G. Willow Wilson, Kameron Hurley, Ken Liu, Cory Doctorow…and on and on and on I could go. However, his comments became more understandable upon realization that “good” science fiction was being defined as science-fiction-that-will-let-us-invest-in-more-gadgets. Using this reasoning, a time machine should be produced so a time traveler can invest in historically low-cost real estate. Good science-fiction becomes a mechanism which assists in the production of capitalist expansion, of “innovation.”
Despite Le Guin’s appeal that “[t]he profit motive often is in conflict with the aims of art,” science fiction and fantasy is often complicit with the growth of private enterprise and with Le Guin’s other pet peeve, state-sanctioned militarism. The United States military provides material resources to Michael Bay. Newt Gingrich wrote the forward for William R. Forstchen’s One Second After, a novel that features an electromagnetic attack on the United States, which Gingrich argues that the country must be prepared to encounter. Both the American and Canadian militaries have recommended reading lists for their personnel that include several science-fiction titles like Starship Troopers, China Attacks, and The Third World War. Science Fiction and Fantasy have also been instrumentalized to serve the interests of a central authority that(allegedly) has a monopoly on legitimate political violence: the state.
In her acceptance speech, Le Guin framed science fiction and fantasy as potential disrupters to the status quo. From this lens, science-fiction and fantasy function as mechanisms that de-socialize readers from normalized assumptions about how the world should work. I’m very sympathetic to this view and at a conference I attended in November, I argued that SF/F was explicitly engaged in recreating normative standards.
By arguing that fantastical texts influence the social world, Le Guin invites the social sciences to meet with and consider fiction seriously. As a student of international relations (IR), I find that SF/F is particularly suitable for my discipline because of the genre’s emphasis on concise world-building. Consequently, I’m more than happy to include SF/F in my scholarly presentations and research–with the understanding that fiction shouldn’t be viewed as possessing a special monopoly on truth and fiction writers are not prophets whose visions have greater status than ordinary workers. Le Guin isn’t naïve about SF/F, though: the subtitle for The Dispossessed is An Ambiguous Utopia, after all.
Unfortunately, the kind of intellectual disruption advocated by Le Guin often comes at a cost. As Le Guin points to sales departments’ influence on book purchasing and publishing, researchers are also restricted by scholarly expectations; certain journals will only publish articles with specific theoretical orientations and scholars who challenge the limits of a particular discipline risk limiting their publication and employment opportunities. So too does the fiction industry prioritize certain trends over others, though perhaps SF/F publishers are more receptive to alternative realities, as long as the world-building is rigorous and systematic. Still, those researchers and authors who do not have social clout are more likely to tread cautiously and produce work that fits into already identifiable boundaries.
There are always exceptions, obviously, and the Guardian article on diversity in SF/F illustrates that the industry may be undergoing a transition. Notably though, even Le Guin had to stealthily insert that Ged, one of her most famous protagonists, was a person of colour later into the story than right at the outset of the novel. This writing decision wasn’t a result of publisher pressure, but because Le Guin feared that her readers may not “immediately identify with a brown kid.” Some of the early covers of the Earthsea series featured a white protagonist, and when the Sci Fi Channel televised the EarthSea series, Le Guin wrote in Slate that the channel “wrecked” her books by whitewashing her characters. SF/F’s influence on revolutionary change becomes slightly questionable in the context of gatekeepers who prioritize incrementalism. There is also the shadow of the reader hanging over the author’s head, where even writers like Le Guin have adjusted their writing to real-world constraints like racism. Hiding Ged’s skin colour could be interpreted charitably. By slowly introducing the idea that PoC characters can be likeable, Le Guin uses fiction as an emancipatory mechanism. This decision could also be less kindly described as a form of self-policing which compromises the radicalness of her project. SF/F can de-socialize readers, sure, but what happens when writers are socialized by their readers into writing more “palatable” literature?
Perhaps some would laugh at the idea that there’s any connection between elves and the social sciences. I once heard a professor express confusion at the popularity of fantasy fiction because “elves aren’t real.” But sovereignty, statehood, nationhood, and citizenship are constructed ideas (and still remain ideas; you certainly can’t touch sovereignty though we feel its effects) with very real material consequences. The boundaries between knowledge/practice and reality/fiction aren’t particularly clear, especially if we view texts, both realist and fantastical, as socializing forces. I would argue against positing a stark difference between an “idea” and an “action,” as most norms gain status as “common sense” through practice.
The selection process for deciding what is a “better” or “worse” text is valuable and eventually a judgment must occur on what works merit publication. This process involves a set of standards or codes that aspiring scholars and writers follow. But this process becomes problematic if the work that is selected for publication becomes repetitive and unquestioned, like a fantastical trope that becomes a sacred cow that prevents better stories from emerging (I’m looking at you, “hero’s journey.” You’re good, but we treat you like a rule instead of a suggestion.) Science Fiction and Fantasy have their own ontological starting points, their own boundaries, and prioritize certain ways of thinking. The very structure of a book is a boundary, and so places an actual physical limit on the author’s imagination. Fantastical fiction isn’t the holy grail and isn’t the answer to all of our problems. But as an exercise in deconstructing entrenched beliefs, SF/F can behave like a remedy to tired ways of thinking.
I do not want to turn science fiction and fantasy into a second-class citizen, where the purpose of the genre is to serve the interest of other disciplines or industries. I recognize that this article treats literature instrumentally and not as a good in its own right. My aim isn’t to oppose “literature for literature’s sake,” but to recognize that people will, inevitably, use texts to create personal meaning and to understand the world. Le Guin’s acceptance speech was too clean and employed a narrative that treated SF/F as a monolithic force for good, if only those pesky capitalists could leave art alone. Le Guin’s optimism is understandable as one is generally gracious when accepting an award, after all. However, as a graduate student, I am always troubled by optimism (kidding, maybe.) Still, the increasing diversity in SF/F is a positive sign that the industry is capable of self-criticism and adapting to new ideas. This change should render readers hopeful that SF/F can do what Le Guin promises: destabilize comfortable ideas.
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Sarah Shoker is a PhD student in Political Science at McMaster University, where she once used Lord of the Rings in a presentation to explain a Foreign Policy conundrum. She regularly quotes from Harry Potter to her more respectable colleagues. You can follow her on twitter @SarahShoker.
**I would like to thank my colleague, Ira Lewy, for first informing me about military reading lists and the navy’s rather unfortunate decision to assist Michael Bay in producing more movies.
You’re clearly a PhD student because who else can write for several paragraphs without saying anything at all.
You may disagree with UKlG’s speech but you do a poor job of presenting a case against it. What exactly are you arguing? That it’s a good thing that money with strings attached is a good thing in publishing? That because you can name several moderately successful genre writers who write about diversity there’s no room for improvement?
“the difference between the production of a market commodity and the practice of an art. Developing written material to suit sales strategies…is not quite the same thing as responsible book publishing or authorship.”
I’ve reread your piece and still have yet to find where you actually rebut this or offer some kind of alternative to this incredibly straight forward, inoffensive and progressive viewpoint towards literature.
Your examples of how sci-fi and fantasy are in bed with “the growth of private enterprise and with Le Guin’s other pet peeve, state-sanctioned militarism.” are particularly laughable. I doubt at any genre convention, anyone would seriously put forward Michael Bay’s name as a “sci-fi creator”, then you list books by conservative robert heinelein, china attacks (by a republican military man), one second after (by a military historian) and the third world war (again written by a soldier). You’ve cherry picked titles to help hold up an incredibly spurious point, you’ve haven’t proved that sci-fi and fantasy are complicit with militarism and unchecked capitalist ideologies, you’ve literally chosen books written by people who are either from the military or who particularly agree with it. I don’t think Ursula K Le Guin has to worry that her assessments or appeals about the genre being incorrect or blind to reality.
Your point about researchers and academics having trouble getting published is just confusing and besides the point. I have no idea what you’re trying to say. Yes it’s hard to get published with different ideas? Isn’t that what Ursula is bemoaning? That ideas besides marketing and commodities should be heard? Again, that paragraph doesn’t say anything at all.
Your accusing her of “incrementalism” is particularly gross considering that you’re talking about a book published in 1968. The Civil Rights Act had been passed just 4 years earlier. So talking about a work of fiction from nearly 50 years ago, you can seriously accuse the author of somehow chickening out or not pushing hard enough for social change from the comfortable, 21st century, tumblr lounge of ethics we all get to sit in and enjoy and look down our noses at folks?
Your last three paragraphs are more of the same graduate student nonsense, where you toss Joseph Campbell under the bus because what’s the point in being a self righteous academic if you don’t take a few pot shots at some sacred cows on the way out, eh?
I fail to see any correlation between any of the points you brought up, I do however see some pretty uninspired self promotion and some forced instances of personality meant to somehow show the reader that you’re not some square, that you’re hip and fun all the while trying to nit-pick an 85 year old progressive, literary legend because you’ve discovered how a few remarks she made this one time didn’t quite line up with some other totally random things you’ve discovered that also don’t add up to anything.
Louis, I think Sarah is right that there’s a streak of pro military thinking among many science fiction practitioners… however that doesn’t seem to have anything to do with Le Guin’s quote.
The fact that you don’t like Michael Bay does not make his movies about robots rampaging across the world not the work of a “sci-fi creator” whatever the heck that means.
That said I don’t see what diversity really has to do with “the production of a market commodity and the practice of an art” as if minorities are incapable of producing commodities.
In general, I like engaging in discussion. However, half of your response is merely disdain for academia, and the other half bewildering assertions that aren’t rationalized. So I’m afraid there’s not much for me to work with. I’m not entirely certain how you can expect me to take you seriously if your comments, such as those about Joseph Campbell (whom I don’t throw under the bus, but I suppose reading the words in the paranthesis were out of the question) weren’t finished off with an insult about being a “self-righteous academic.”
I would suggest that if you’re having trouble understanding my piece, which I sent to a non-academic second reader, then the fault may not lie with my involvement in academia, but with your reading abilities. The fact that you think I’m trying to attack Le Guin is just…strange.
The comment was directed at Louis, not your Pallas.
Pallas: My argument is that Le Guin’s framing of sf/f being this kind of corrective to capitalism is erroneous because sf/f has also been used by capitalists to further thir own socializing projects. Ergo, military and the comments at the Mindshare UK event.
Even “revolutionaries” like Le Guin have their work moderated by commercial impulses (and audiences.) Le Guin had to “tone down” Ged’s race to fit into a pre-defined category of “exceptional.” The entry of more diversity may illustrate a widening of these boundaries. But the point still stands. Le Guin’s comments are very utopian and kind of implicitly creates this weird dichotomy: art = non-commercial and progressive. Which, unfortunately, she doesn’t really justify but is a binary that appeals to a lot of “progressives.”
Pallas: I re-read your last sentence and I see what you mean now. I agree with you. PoC are totally capable of creating pro-military/pro-capitalist products. However, the way The Guardian article framed “diversity in SF/F” seemed to imply that the inclusion of diverse authors disrupted the status quo and meant that more nuanced discussions of race and gender were now on the table. I also agree with the Guardian’s position. That’s not to say PoC aren’t capable of being pro-capitalist or anything like that. Only that current authors don’t seem to be taking a rightist stance in their stories. But yeah, I can see that describing PoC authors as magical fairies whose very presence destabilizes the status quo is…wrong. But considering the exclusion of diversity has largely been the result of commercial impulses, I think the inclusion of diversity is a step in the right direction and illustrates the the mystical forces of capitalism don’t have an iron-grip on SF/F.
I saw Sarah’s piece less as a polemical refutation of Le Guin, and more as an ambivalent response to some of her arguments. Le Guin in her speech presents fantasy and imagination as an alternative to realistic narratives which she links to capitalism and the book-publishing industry. As Sarah says, that works as a call to arms in some ways, but it isn’t all that intellectually coherent — not least because the most prominent SF fantasies tend to be big-budget action films about the joys of military hardware and hitting things.
I think it’s totally fair to ding Le Guin for backing off on Ged’s race. Yes, it was 1968. So what? James Baldwin and Zora Neale Hurston had written books with black protagonists by that point; so had lots of other folks. If SF/F wasn’t ready for it in 1968, that seems like a sign that the genre was retrograde, not progressive, which contradicts Le Guin’s argument that SF/F is a force for change.
I mean, I think the Earthsea books are amazing, and it was courageous and thoughtful of Le Guin to make a world in which the white people aren’t the heroes. But that doesn’t mean it’s a success in every way or in every respect, or that it has to be beyond criticism.
I never really took much note of the skin color when reading Earthsea.
I googled it and apparently Ged’s skin color is stated to be “red-brown” but what race would that imply if he was someone in our world? I think the reader has a lot of wiggle room.
Was Le Guin likely picturing someone from the middle east?
I’m guessing this cover might reflect her intent, Tenar is definetly much paler, I’m aware of that since she’s from the pale skinned continent: https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1417900879l/13662.jpg
Louis Falcetti needs to learn how to give criticism.
Anyway, as about a big a fan of Le Guin as a person could be, but I too was ambivalent towards her speech. It sounded like the kind of thing I’d like to believe, but know to be an oversimplification. My guess is that she is purposefully speaking in aspirational tones.
I think literature can affect the social world, but any attempts to identify one-to-one relationships between texts (or kinds of texts) and particular results is futile. it is overdetermined. Furthermore, changing the way we can think about things doesn’t mean those changes are final and always accessible in all social contexts or utilized as part of a social action. It is for that reason that in my scholarly work I have been interested exploring how multiple partial identification are put to work in creating a coherent identity in different contexts. As Sarah points out, even if such an influence were directly identifiable it would not necessarily lead to “progressive” results.
Anyway, my only critique of this essay I think is perhaps a result of the style of writing common to Sarah’s field? The passive voice undermines the assertion of an argument (which may have led to Louis’s reading FAIL), but then again I write lit crit, which is not afraid of the first person (or at least not always).
My understanding is that Ged and his people are supposed to be more or less Polynesian (though looking around Middle Eastern is also a possibility, the Web thinks.)
Tenar (and her people, who are basically the bad guys) is white.
Noah, in 1968, Le Guin was very much a liberal’s liberal. Look at all the grief she’s taken over the years for her inability to fully think through the sex/gender implications of Left Hand of Darkness. It’s after her time in the wilderness (the 1980s) that she comes back explicitly a feminist and far more radicalized.
So yes, Le Guin could have pushed harder to make Ged’s POC status a big deal in 1968. But she’s more than made up for that since the 1990s.
BTW, my take on the Archipelagans’ skin color in Earthsea is that they look mostly like Native Americans in the North and West and like Africans in the South and East of the Archipleago. Le Guin’s status as Alfred Kroeber’s daughter brings home the Native American connection to me.
Rob, I don’t think she’s on trial! She’s great; Dispossessed and Left Hand of Darkness and the Earthsea books (especially) are all among my favorite books ever. I even like the fourth much later Earthsea book, which as you say is more consciously feminist. The fifth one (which is again coming from a more radical political perspective) is unfortunately kind of crap. But these things happen…
Ged’s friend Vetch is black for certain — so there are definitely a mix of races in Earthsea.
There are some good stories in Tales from Earthsea, but yes, I’ve never reread The Other Wind. I actually think that she was smart to leave Earthsea behind and start an entirely new series built on her post-1980s politics: Annals of the Western Shore (Gifts, Voices, and Powers). I’m teaching Voices for the second time this spring.
I haven’t read those! Maybe I should give them a shot…I have to admit the Other Wind kind of put me off trying her new work…
Other Wind has all the problems of retconning. The Western Shore books have the advantage of being built on the new principles instead of having them crammed in.
For what it’s worth, Jo Walton has an article on Tor.com where she argues that Le Guin “found her assurance again” 2002 and that The Western Shore trilogy is good like the earlier Earthsea books:
http://www.tor.com/?option=com_content&view=blog&id=25339
As a young reader, I definitely noticed that Ged and his fellows were a lot like folks in Afro-Diasporic Caribbean in varying complexions – or at least seemed so to me.