I don't think I've ever seen this (sort of famous) monster-from-outer-space movie. Apparently a recent book by Jeff Sharlet connects it with a shadowy world of theocratic fundamentalism, Cold War anti-communism and American neo-imperialism. Rudy Nelson, who worked on the film, thinks Sharlet makes some good points but that he's wrong about The Blob (and some other things).
Well, I haven't seen it, and this kind of thing is not exactly in my purview. It's more B-Movie Catechism territory (although The Blob might be too upscale for his tastes...!) Anyways, I'll just leave you with this amusing quote from Nelson's article:
But now it was high time for us to fill a serious scripting gap. We knew how the film would end (for sure, not by blowing up the town). An Air Force cargo plane would drop the frozen, cut-up carcass over the Arctic ice cap. But as yet we had not written any closing dialogue for the main characters. We decided on a line for Dave, the chief of police, the voice of official authority: "I don't think it can be killed, but at least we've stopped it." That didn't quite do it. No one said anything for a moment or two. Then, in a rare moment of inspiration, I suggested a closing line for Steve McQueen: "As long as the Arctic stays cold." The term "global warming" hadn't yet entered the environmental lexicon, nor had any of us entertained the thought that the Arctic would ever be anything but a solid ice pack. But there you are. My chief claim to Blob Immortality over the years has always been that I wrote that prescient last line. And since I was (as you may recall) Third Assistant Director in Charge of Daily Script Revision, who is out there to argue the point? I rest my case.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Forgive us our debts
Canadian literary icon Margaret Atwood has a habit of picking timely topics to write about. Her latest book, Payback, is about debt. She'll be delivering this year's Massey Lectures on the subject.
What does it have to do with this blog? Atwood's authored two books that can be considered science fiction, namely The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx & Crake, both of which included religious themes. And the concept of debt is central to diverse religious traditions, along with related ideas like obligation, ransom, blood-price, etc. (Since Atwood has described herself as a pessimistic pantheist, I suspect she feels we humans have ungratefully piled up staggering debts against the natural world that brought us forth.) In this CBC interview she discusses the book and touches on the religious and existential aspects of debt. For example:
"...maybe there should be some kind of accounting taking place... maybe we do owe something to somebody for the fact of our existence."
Speaking of the Massey Lectures, a different Margaret delivered the 2002 lectures: Margaret Visser. She spoke on the idea of fate. Her latest book is The Gift of Thanks, a subject not unrelated to that of debt or obligation! She was recently in Winnipeg to speak on the topic for the 2008 Slater-Maguire Lectures at St. Margaret's (no relation) Anglican Church. They don't seem to have posted the lectures proper but her sermon on "thanks" vis-a-vis the Eucharist is online here.
What does it have to do with this blog? Atwood's authored two books that can be considered science fiction, namely The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx & Crake, both of which included religious themes. And the concept of debt is central to diverse religious traditions, along with related ideas like obligation, ransom, blood-price, etc. (Since Atwood has described herself as a pessimistic pantheist, I suspect she feels we humans have ungratefully piled up staggering debts against the natural world that brought us forth.) In this CBC interview she discusses the book and touches on the religious and existential aspects of debt. For example:
"...maybe there should be some kind of accounting taking place... maybe we do owe something to somebody for the fact of our existence."
Speaking of the Massey Lectures, a different Margaret delivered the 2002 lectures: Margaret Visser. She spoke on the idea of fate. Her latest book is The Gift of Thanks, a subject not unrelated to that of debt or obligation! She was recently in Winnipeg to speak on the topic for the 2008 Slater-Maguire Lectures at St. Margaret's (no relation) Anglican Church. They don't seem to have posted the lectures proper but her sermon on "thanks" vis-a-vis the Eucharist is online here.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Walking in the Reign
Here's an interesting detail from An Evil Guest: at one point in the story we encounter a hymn. The protagonist, Cassie Casey, has been talking with an older woman named Margaret who is her new assistant. As I recall, (I don't have the book in front of me so my recollection might be a little off) Margaret has been trying to convince a doubtful Cassie that she (Cassie) can sing as well as act. Cassie either tries to deflect this by asking Margaret to sing, or says she doesn't know any songs off by heart. In any case, Margaret sings a song, entitled "Walking In the Reign," which she knows from church. As is true of many people, that's the main place where she regularly sings, and those are the songs she knows best. The lyrics, to me, made it sound like a fairly recent hymn, something written in the last twenty years or so. Since An Evil Guest is set some time in the future, this would have been a song Margaret had been singing since she was a young woman, one she knew well.*
On reading this I speculated that this might be a song which Wolfe heard and enjoyed at his own church. Well, it turns out that's true, but not quite the whole story. He actually attends church with the songwriter ("hymnist?" "hymnodist?" "hymnographer?"), a man named Rory Cooney. Wolfe had asked for permission to use the lyrics, but still managed to slyly surprise Cooney with his own song at a bookstore reading. The startled-but-delighted hymnodisgrapholomogist, err, songwriter, blogs about the story here.
(via Hoof & Hide)
*Wolfe has included interesting details about people's memories of church before. I recall a story in which a character remembers his father taking him to church, and muses that it had been only as an adult that he had figured out that this was not some timeless thing, but a new or renewed interest on his father's part, stimulated by the 1960s/70s post-Vatican II folk-music-in-church/charismatic/Jesus People movement.
On reading this I speculated that this might be a song which Wolfe heard and enjoyed at his own church. Well, it turns out that's true, but not quite the whole story. He actually attends church with the songwriter ("hymnist?" "hymnodist?" "hymnographer?"), a man named Rory Cooney. Wolfe had asked for permission to use the lyrics, but still managed to slyly surprise Cooney with his own song at a bookstore reading. The startled-but-delighted hymnodisgrapholomogist, err, songwriter, blogs about the story here.
(via Hoof & Hide)
*Wolfe has included interesting details about people's memories of church before. I recall a story in which a character remembers his father taking him to church, and muses that it had been only as an adult that he had figured out that this was not some timeless thing, but a new or renewed interest on his father's part, stimulated by the 1960s/70s post-Vatican II folk-music-in-church/charismatic/Jesus People movement.
Friday, October 03, 2008
A surprising guest
Not a whole lot of posting here lately, mainly because I haven't been reading or watching much relevant material. I've been reading about orality & literacy in medieval (and other) culture, about Cuba & the United States, and about the RCMP's domestic spying programs. Outside of that I've been reading a number of comics, so I may be posting more frequently at Holy Heroes!!
I have however read An Evil Guest. The early descriptions were fairly accurate: it's a blend of genres, drawing on pulp fiction and early-twentieth century atmospheres. It also blends the world of "Memorare" and the world of "The Tree Is My Hat," which is a pretty amazing feat in itself. H.P. Lovecraft's mythos plays a role, for the reasonably clued-in reader.
I did find myself wondering about Wolfe's literary direction. Ever since, say, The Book of the Long Sun, he's been including bigger and bigger chunks of conversation in his novels, and there's a lot in this book. Sometimes his newer novels feel like 60 or 70% conversation with a bit of action and description mixed in. This is still tricky Mr. Wolfe, after all, so the conversations imply a lot, and they definitely show us the characters instead of simply telling about them. Still, sometimes I disloyally wonder what he's up to, if he's doing this deliberately, or if he's gotten lazy and lost his edge, or has just become very literary-Zen, or what?
Well, I was wrong to doubt. He hasn't lost his abilities. Towards the end of this book there's a chapter in which the protagonist sees through the eyes of a dead woman... (or something) and it's absolutely electrifying. We leave the careful conversations behind and are plunged into a stunning series of impressions and sensations.
So, never fear, he still has his superpowers. He's just become more and more subtle in his old(er) age.
I have however read An Evil Guest. The early descriptions were fairly accurate: it's a blend of genres, drawing on pulp fiction and early-twentieth century atmospheres. It also blends the world of "Memorare" and the world of "The Tree Is My Hat," which is a pretty amazing feat in itself. H.P. Lovecraft's mythos plays a role, for the reasonably clued-in reader.
I did find myself wondering about Wolfe's literary direction. Ever since, say, The Book of the Long Sun, he's been including bigger and bigger chunks of conversation in his novels, and there's a lot in this book. Sometimes his newer novels feel like 60 or 70% conversation with a bit of action and description mixed in. This is still tricky Mr. Wolfe, after all, so the conversations imply a lot, and they definitely show us the characters instead of simply telling about them. Still, sometimes I disloyally wonder what he's up to, if he's doing this deliberately, or if he's gotten lazy and lost his edge, or has just become very literary-Zen, or what?
Well, I was wrong to doubt. He hasn't lost his abilities. Towards the end of this book there's a chapter in which the protagonist sees through the eyes of a dead woman... (or something) and it's absolutely electrifying. We leave the careful conversations behind and are plunged into a stunning series of impressions and sensations.
So, never fear, he still has his superpowers. He's just become more and more subtle in his old(er) age.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Stephenson on Anathem
SF Gospel points out an interview with Neal Stephenson (author of Snow Crash, The Diamond Age, and Cryptonomicon), who has come out with a new sf novel called Anathem. As you might guess from the title, it's got something to do with religion: future "science monks" in conflict with a devoutly religious society.
In both Snow Crash and Cryptonomicon, Stephenson included some despicable religious characters but also some admirable ones. I always got the sense that he knew quite well that both science and religion were complex, often ambiguous, human endeavours, situated in specific historical (and political!) contexts. The interview includes an exchange which sheds some light on his thinking in this regard:
In both Snow Crash and Cryptonomicon, Stephenson included some despicable religious characters but also some admirable ones. I always got the sense that he knew quite well that both science and religion were complex, often ambiguous, human endeavours, situated in specific historical (and political!) contexts. The interview includes an exchange which sheds some light on his thinking in this regard:
That mention of his upbringing is interesting, and certainly fits with the impressions I'd picked up from his books. I look forward to reading Anathem, and to hearing SF Gospel's reactions... maybe even a review, hmm?Since Stephenson's already mentioned that the novel is at least a tip of the hat to Earthly politics, I wondered whether he sees any reconciliation possible between science and religion in our own culture. Does he believe this "reconciliation" would be like on Arbre, where a few Deolaters can work with the avout, but the two cultures remain essentially hostile to each other? Stephenson replied:
"There are many, many examples of legitimate scientists who espouse some form of religious faith, so I don't see any essential hostility. I grew up in a community of church-going scientists and engineers. The recent science/religion fireworks are driven by a theological movement that is as controversial within Christianity as it is in secular culture."
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Picture & post
Check out this religion-and-science-fiction tee-shirt picture at BoingBoing (via Aka.)
Plus I have, at long last, put up a new post at Holy Heroes!! This one's about the death and resurrection of superheroes. And be sure to check out the HH!! posts that DGD and Gabriel have been contributing.
Plus I have, at long last, put up a new post at Holy Heroes!! This one's about the death and resurrection of superheroes. And be sure to check out the HH!! posts that DGD and Gabriel have been contributing.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Mars & Mu
Books & Culture has two new book reviews of science fiction and science fact:
Joseph Bottum gives a brief history of Mars in science fiction literature and then moves on to review Joe Haldeman's Marsbound. He points out approvingly that Haldeman has looked back and employed some of the classic sf iconography of Mars, but wishes that he'd used more:
I want back my canals and my princesses and my golden eyes. I want back a reason for the Red Planet to remain central to the science-fiction canon. I don't exactly want to go Mars, but I want once again to imagine going there.
Stephen O. Moshier reviews a book on plate tectonics and continental drift, including the history of the theory and the scientists who developed it. It also discusses the pseudo-scientific legends and religious interpretations that quickly sprang up around it (while 'sunken continents' do exist, places like Lemuria, Mu and Atlantis do not.) The book's author seems rather irritated by these legends and trumpets the triumph of science over myth & religion.
I think it's the same situation Bottum describes regarding Mars: while they may not be scientific, some images are just too apt or archetypal or enjoyable to abandon. By all means let us distinguish between scientific fact and fantasy! But let Lemuria, Mu, and Atlantis live alongside Lowell's canals, the Sorns, and the delectable Dejah Thoris in the realms of myth.
Joseph Bottum gives a brief history of Mars in science fiction literature and then moves on to review Joe Haldeman's Marsbound. He points out approvingly that Haldeman has looked back and employed some of the classic sf iconography of Mars, but wishes that he'd used more:
I want back my canals and my princesses and my golden eyes. I want back a reason for the Red Planet to remain central to the science-fiction canon. I don't exactly want to go Mars, but I want once again to imagine going there.
Stephen O. Moshier reviews a book on plate tectonics and continental drift, including the history of the theory and the scientists who developed it. It also discusses the pseudo-scientific legends and religious interpretations that quickly sprang up around it (while 'sunken continents' do exist, places like Lemuria, Mu and Atlantis do not.) The book's author seems rather irritated by these legends and trumpets the triumph of science over myth & religion.
I think it's the same situation Bottum describes regarding Mars: while they may not be scientific, some images are just too apt or archetypal or enjoyable to abandon. By all means let us distinguish between scientific fact and fantasy! But let Lemuria, Mu, and Atlantis live alongside Lowell's canals, the Sorns, and the delectable Dejah Thoris in the realms of myth.
Monday, August 18, 2008
August tidbits
A few weeks ago I finished reading Something More, by Paul Cornell. The first three-quarters combines a extrapolative post-apocalyptic future, a first contact story, and a haunted-British-manor tale with theological speculation about electromagnetic fields and religious experiences. It was all fairly compelling. The last section, however, takes a wild, flailing jump towards a interplanetary metaphysical epic, a crazy blend of C.S. Lewis and Philip Jose Farmer... and crashes like a graceless, aged cat with inner-ear problems to land with a resounding thump on its side, behind the sofa, amidst the dust and lost pen caps. (Or perhaps like a kite, which you've just managed to get airborne, nosediving with a horrible 'crack!' into the grass.) It might have worked if the story had been stretched out to a trilogy. Full marks for effort, and the first three quarters are quite well-written and are worth reading on their own. The religious element is thought-provoking up until that nose-dive. Some Christian readers will find the last section ridiculous and offensive, while others will just find it ridiculous. I'll say no more, since I don't think there's much I can profitably add to Stuart Carter's review over at Infinity Plus.
In other Cornell news, he's posted pictures of a new anthology which contains one of his stories. The cover features, among other things, two people waving crosses. But not in a 'I bless you in the name of Christ' kind of way, more of a crazed-superstitious-mob kind of way. Maybe they're driving out vampires. Though, from the close proximity of the crosses to a clenched fist and a gun, I wonder if this sf anthology doesn't contain some evil Christians! Might they even be, say, ignorant science-hating theocrats?
Here's a recent interview with a Christian who doesn't hate science or science fiction, namely, Gene Wolfe. It's mostly on the art and craft of writing. (One of his stories appeared in the first volume of that particular anthology, actually.)
The Matrix vs. Carl Sagan - a mashup. Now if only they could work Elrond in there somehow. "Billions and billions, Mister Baggins." (via Tom - check out his answering machines!)
Over at PodCastle, Stephen Eley reads "Cup and Table," a story by Tim Pratt about a ruthless hunt for the Grail, and by extension, for God. (Also via Tom.) With an introduction that talks about the history of the Grail (or Graal) in literature. Just a heads-up, the story itself contains some nasty language and nastier characters. Oh, and Eley's Wikipedia entry contains two religion-related factoids about him.
Lint Hatcher of Excuse Me, Ghidorah? has a new podcast in which he reads a twenty-year-old essay entitled "A Supernatural God." It's a C.S. Lewis-influenced meditation on horror and fantastic literature, a memoir of his early life up to and including college, a spiritual and psychological autobiography, and an account of his conversion to Christianity. I think I also noticed a certain Romantic influence. (via Bernhardt Varenius)
Jimmy Akin, Catholic blogger extraordinaire and confirmed sf fan, has new posts about Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, and Children of the Mind. (via the Sci-Fi Catholic)
As for me, I'm currently trying to avoid thinking about fall, and reading Ubik.
In other Cornell news, he's posted pictures of a new anthology which contains one of his stories. The cover features, among other things, two people waving crosses. But not in a 'I bless you in the name of Christ' kind of way, more of a crazed-superstitious-mob kind of way. Maybe they're driving out vampires. Though, from the close proximity of the crosses to a clenched fist and a gun, I wonder if this sf anthology doesn't contain some evil Christians! Might they even be, say, ignorant science-hating theocrats?
Here's a recent interview with a Christian who doesn't hate science or science fiction, namely, Gene Wolfe. It's mostly on the art and craft of writing. (One of his stories appeared in the first volume of that particular anthology, actually.)
The Matrix vs. Carl Sagan - a mashup. Now if only they could work Elrond in there somehow. "Billions and billions, Mister Baggins." (via Tom - check out his answering machines!)
Over at PodCastle, Stephen Eley reads "Cup and Table," a story by Tim Pratt about a ruthless hunt for the Grail, and by extension, for God. (Also via Tom.) With an introduction that talks about the history of the Grail (or Graal) in literature. Just a heads-up, the story itself contains some nasty language and nastier characters. Oh, and Eley's Wikipedia entry contains two religion-related factoids about him.
Lint Hatcher of Excuse Me, Ghidorah? has a new podcast in which he reads a twenty-year-old essay entitled "A Supernatural God." It's a C.S. Lewis-influenced meditation on horror and fantastic literature, a memoir of his early life up to and including college, a spiritual and psychological autobiography, and an account of his conversion to Christianity. I think I also noticed a certain Romantic influence. (via Bernhardt Varenius)
Jimmy Akin, Catholic blogger extraordinaire and confirmed sf fan, has new posts about Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, and Children of the Mind. (via the Sci-Fi Catholic)
As for me, I'm currently trying to avoid thinking about fall, and reading Ubik.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Morality play
I finally got around to seeing The Dark Knight. It wasn't perfect, but I do think it was the best super-hero movie I've ever seen, for a variety of reasons. The most important one, I think, is that the film makers understood that the powerful driver of super-hero stories, the thing that raises them above colourful sound and fury, is morality. They're about people making tough moral distinctions and choices. These people are bigger than us, and the choices are bigger, too, more noble or more evil, but that's so that we can see them better. They're archetypal, mythically resonant: the White Knight, the Dark Knight, but especially the Joker, who here has no real origin story and who wreaks havoc on a scale which is strictly speaking not believable. But that's to be expected, because he's not a human criminal - he's a malign trickster god, a blend of Coyote, Loki and Satan.
But to drive home the point that this is about all of us, not just heroes and their decisions, the key moral victory takes place within groups of ordinary people. The setup leading to their dilemma seemed a bit contrived, but in the context of a superhero story, that's OK too.
The film drew on the insights and highlights of older Batman stories without sticking with any particular version or becoming too cliched. I think I saw elements of The Long Halloween, The Killing Joke, Batman: Year One, The Dark Knight Returns, and there were doubtless others. People have been talking about this movie a lot, and I expect it will be continue to be talked about for a long time to come. I have a feeling we'll be seeing lots of essays and theses on this one.
But to drive home the point that this is about all of us, not just heroes and their decisions, the key moral victory takes place within groups of ordinary people. The setup leading to their dilemma seemed a bit contrived, but in the context of a superhero story, that's OK too.
The film drew on the insights and highlights of older Batman stories without sticking with any particular version or becoming too cliched. I think I saw elements of The Long Halloween, The Killing Joke, Batman: Year One, The Dark Knight Returns, and there were doubtless others. People have been talking about this movie a lot, and I expect it will be continue to be talked about for a long time to come. I have a feeling we'll be seeing lots of essays and theses on this one.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Dueling news
Today this (local) news had me feeling down and really creeped out. The Free Press has three or four pages of gory details.*
But this news, from Science, is more cheerful:
"The ethical problems of using eggs can be circumvented with induced pluripotent stem (iPS) cells, which are adult cells reprogrammed to behave like embryonic stem cells. In 2006, scientists created such cells from mice and rats by introducing a combination of four genes to a culture of skin cells. Then last year, scientists showed that they could do the same thing with human cells. The new study, published online today by Science, shows that iPS cells can be successfully generated even from the skin cells of an elderly, sick person, Eggan says."
Hurray for progress in science! Especially progress that solves ethical problems rather than creating new ones.
And Boo to unprovoked homicides / decapitations by cannibal psychotics off their meds.
*They even had a story about worldwide reactions. Best were the quotes from boorish Americans informing us that Canadians were wimps, blaming the tragedy on handgun control, or explaining that this was clearly an al-Qaeda terrorist attack aimed at the USA. (Oh, just like fist bumps or reporters?) There are good rebuttals to such allegations, but it's more fun to reply in the same spirit they were made: No, your MOM is clearly a wimpy handgun controlling al-Qaeda attack aimed at the USA!!
But this news, from Science, is more cheerful:
"The ethical problems of using eggs can be circumvented with induced pluripotent stem (iPS) cells, which are adult cells reprogrammed to behave like embryonic stem cells. In 2006, scientists created such cells from mice and rats by introducing a combination of four genes to a culture of skin cells. Then last year, scientists showed that they could do the same thing with human cells. The new study, published online today by Science, shows that iPS cells can be successfully generated even from the skin cells of an elderly, sick person, Eggan says."
Hurray for progress in science! Especially progress that solves ethical problems rather than creating new ones.
And Boo to unprovoked homicides / decapitations by cannibal psychotics off their meds.
*They even had a story about worldwide reactions. Best were the quotes from boorish Americans informing us that Canadians were wimps, blaming the tragedy on handgun control, or explaining that this was clearly an al-Qaeda terrorist attack aimed at the USA. (Oh, just like fist bumps or reporters?) There are good rebuttals to such allegations, but it's more fun to reply in the same spirit they were made: No, your MOM is clearly a wimpy handgun controlling al-Qaeda attack aimed at the USA!!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
July tidbits
The author discussed in my previous post, who employs the blogname 'Ernest Scribbler,' has kindly pointed out the fact that the draft of his science fiction novel which I mentioned has long since evolved into a trilogy. You can learn more about it here. His writing blog is also worth checking out, with posts on such topics as names in Rowling and Tolkien, and the latest issue of "Mallorn," the Journal of the Tolkien Society. (He is now the editor.)
Gabriel McKee has a post about Terry Pratchett's clarification of his recent quasi-mystical remarks on the universe. Gabriel also notes that an excerpt from his book The Gospel According to Science Fiction has been translated into Dutch! Gelukwensen!
D.G.D. Davidson has been doing some acquisitions work (sorry - library lingo...) on his science-fiction-and-religion collection. I'm acquainted with some of the books on his list, but not others. One of the books he mentions, Scientific Mythologies, has just been reviewed at length by James F. McGrath over at Exploring Our Matrix. He didn't like it.
Åka speculates about Dracula, or, more specifically, on where Van Helsing got all of his consecrated Hosts.
And last month Anactoria posted an interesting quote from Margaret Atwood (author of The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx & Crake) in which she describes what it means to be a "pessimistic pantheist," and muses on the Genesis creation account.
As for me, I'm reading Something More, by Paul Cornell. Does it contain any interesting scienti-theomological specumalation? Indeed it does.
Gabriel McKee has a post about Terry Pratchett's clarification of his recent quasi-mystical remarks on the universe. Gabriel also notes that an excerpt from his book The Gospel According to Science Fiction has been translated into Dutch! Gelukwensen!
D.G.D. Davidson has been doing some acquisitions work (sorry - library lingo...) on his science-fiction-and-religion collection. I'm acquainted with some of the books on his list, but not others. One of the books he mentions, Scientific Mythologies, has just been reviewed at length by James F. McGrath over at Exploring Our Matrix. He didn't like it.
Åka speculates about Dracula, or, more specifically, on where Van Helsing got all of his consecrated Hosts.
And last month Anactoria posted an interesting quote from Margaret Atwood (author of The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx & Crake) in which she describes what it means to be a "pessimistic pantheist," and muses on the Genesis creation account.
As for me, I'm reading Something More, by Paul Cornell. Does it contain any interesting scienti-theomological specumalation? Indeed it does.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Henry Gee and the Science of Middle-Earth
Here's an interesting-sounding book:
The Science of Middle-Earth: Explaining the Science Behind the Greatest Fantasy Epic Ever Told! by Henry Gee.
The promotional blurb reads in part: The author explores just how elves might be able to see much further than humans, why Frodo's sword turns blue at the sight of evil orcs, how the rings of power do their thing, and just about every other conundrum or piece of 'elvish magic' that have puzzled and delighted Tolkien fans for years. Throughout, Gee makes the point that science, fantasy, and nature are really more similar than one might think. Gee writes in a popular tone and style, fully explaining all science concepts and convincingly demonstrating how Tolkien's world of fantasy makes sense in a very real - scientific - way.
Now, you might think this is a pointless exercise in fandom by a fantasy fanatic with his head in the clouds... except for the fact that Dr. Henry Gee is himself a scientist, more specifically a paleontologist and evolutionary biologist. He is also a senior editor of Nature, the world-renowned scientific journal, and has edited a collection of science fiction previously published in the pages of Nature. He's written popular books on evolutionary biology, genomics, and dinosaurs. The Scientific American review of the LotR book points out: In a closing essay, [Gee] argues that "Tolkien's own worldview was closer to the true spirit of science than that held by many who propose to promote the public understanding of science."
He's also written some science fiction of his own, which is available for free here. The write-up: "Jack Corstorphine is a man with a rare intuition. He is convinced that the landscape of Europe hides a civilization a million years old. Jadis Markham has a gift for analysis -- she can reach solutions while everyone else is still grappling with the problem. Together, they change the face of prehistory. But prehistory bites back. Forces almost beyond imagination are stirring in Jack and Jadis' world, among the worlds of their friends -- their scientist-priest mentor Domingo, and their adopted son, Tom -- and among the stars. The Sigil is an epic of near-future SF about the nature of the past, religion, love and the nature of humanity."
I tend to enjoy the work of people who avoid polarization or easy categorization, like those who are at home in both science and art, who are good at rigorous thinking but who also appreciate the power and beauty of myth. And it seems that Dr. Gee is one of those 'in-between' people, not only in regards to fantastic literature ("he read The Lord of the Rings about once a year between the ages of 10 and 25") but also in questions of science, religion and philosophy. According to his awfully witty blog, The End Of The Pier Show, he is Jewish, with progressive/liberal opinions on religious matters. On the one hand, he's strongly opposed to creationism and the Intelligent Design movement, and on the other he has also expressed his disagreement with the militant atheists among his scientist colleagues (for example, here, here or here) while maintaining personal friendships with many of them.*
Something that comes through loud and clear on his blog, as a powerful recurring theme, is his passion for popularizing science for the widest possible audience. The Science of Middle-Earth sounds like a marvelous contribution to that quest.
*If you strongly disagree with Dr. Gee's views on creationism, I.D., militant atheism, or The Lord of the Rings, please take the issue up with him, as I'm allergic to strenous comment box arguments.
The Science of Middle-Earth: Explaining the Science Behind the Greatest Fantasy Epic Ever Told! by Henry Gee.
The promotional blurb reads in part: The author explores just how elves might be able to see much further than humans, why Frodo's sword turns blue at the sight of evil orcs, how the rings of power do their thing, and just about every other conundrum or piece of 'elvish magic' that have puzzled and delighted Tolkien fans for years. Throughout, Gee makes the point that science, fantasy, and nature are really more similar than one might think. Gee writes in a popular tone and style, fully explaining all science concepts and convincingly demonstrating how Tolkien's world of fantasy makes sense in a very real - scientific - way.
Now, you might think this is a pointless exercise in fandom by a fantasy fanatic with his head in the clouds... except for the fact that Dr. Henry Gee is himself a scientist, more specifically a paleontologist and evolutionary biologist. He is also a senior editor of Nature, the world-renowned scientific journal, and has edited a collection of science fiction previously published in the pages of Nature. He's written popular books on evolutionary biology, genomics, and dinosaurs. The Scientific American review of the LotR book points out: In a closing essay, [Gee] argues that "Tolkien's own worldview was closer to the true spirit of science than that held by many who propose to promote the public understanding of science."
He's also written some science fiction of his own, which is available for free here. The write-up: "Jack Corstorphine is a man with a rare intuition. He is convinced that the landscape of Europe hides a civilization a million years old. Jadis Markham has a gift for analysis -- she can reach solutions while everyone else is still grappling with the problem. Together, they change the face of prehistory. But prehistory bites back. Forces almost beyond imagination are stirring in Jack and Jadis' world, among the worlds of their friends -- their scientist-priest mentor Domingo, and their adopted son, Tom -- and among the stars. The Sigil is an epic of near-future SF about the nature of the past, religion, love and the nature of humanity."
I tend to enjoy the work of people who avoid polarization or easy categorization, like those who are at home in both science and art, who are good at rigorous thinking but who also appreciate the power and beauty of myth. And it seems that Dr. Gee is one of those 'in-between' people, not only in regards to fantastic literature ("he read The Lord of the Rings about once a year between the ages of 10 and 25") but also in questions of science, religion and philosophy. According to his awfully witty blog, The End Of The Pier Show, he is Jewish, with progressive/liberal opinions on religious matters. On the one hand, he's strongly opposed to creationism and the Intelligent Design movement, and on the other he has also expressed his disagreement with the militant atheists among his scientist colleagues (for example, here, here or here) while maintaining personal friendships with many of them.*
Something that comes through loud and clear on his blog, as a powerful recurring theme, is his passion for popularizing science for the widest possible audience. The Science of Middle-Earth sounds like a marvelous contribution to that quest.
*If you strongly disagree with Dr. Gee's views on creationism, I.D., militant atheism, or The Lord of the Rings, please take the issue up with him, as I'm allergic to strenous comment box arguments.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Robert Randall
Here's a tidbit I found among Dani Zweig's "Belated Reviews:"
"Also noteworthy is "The Shrouded Planet" by "Robert Randall". (Robert Randall is the name Robert Silverberg and Randall Garrett used for their collaborations.) The Shrouded Planet is the cloud-covered planet of Nidor, home to a stable, low-tech culture -- and the only other intelligent beings discovered by Earth. For reasons of its own, Earth decides to set Nidor, willy nilly, on the road to science and technology. Playing the emissaries-from-above gambit, they open a school. Of theology. With a bit of science and engineering thrown in."
The book was first published in 1957. Randall Garrett is better known for his Lord Darcy stories. According to Wikipedia, he belonged to the Old Catholic Church and was ordained in that denomination. According to this witty article by Robert Silverberg, however, Garrett was an Anglican. (As I understand it, Old Catholics are in full communion with Anglicanism, so perhaps both statements are correct.)
The Silverberg article is well worth reading, as he explains his long-time desire to become Pope Sixtus the Sixth, and what sorts of things he would do as Pope. He discusses the intriguing book that first sparked this ambition, a strange 1904 novel entitled Hadrian the Seventh, in which an obscure English layman unexpectedly becomes the Pope and sets about fixing the world.
"Also noteworthy is "The Shrouded Planet" by "Robert Randall". (Robert Randall is the name Robert Silverberg and Randall Garrett used for their collaborations.) The Shrouded Planet is the cloud-covered planet of Nidor, home to a stable, low-tech culture -- and the only other intelligent beings discovered by Earth. For reasons of its own, Earth decides to set Nidor, willy nilly, on the road to science and technology. Playing the emissaries-from-above gambit, they open a school. Of theology. With a bit of science and engineering thrown in."
The book was first published in 1957. Randall Garrett is better known for his Lord Darcy stories. According to Wikipedia, he belonged to the Old Catholic Church and was ordained in that denomination. According to this witty article by Robert Silverberg, however, Garrett was an Anglican. (As I understand it, Old Catholics are in full communion with Anglicanism, so perhaps both statements are correct.)
The Silverberg article is well worth reading, as he explains his long-time desire to become Pope Sixtus the Sixth, and what sorts of things he would do as Pope. He discusses the intriguing book that first sparked this ambition, a strange 1904 novel entitled Hadrian the Seventh, in which an obscure English layman unexpectedly becomes the Pope and sets about fixing the world.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Speaker for the Dead
"Dom Cristao, the abbot of the Filhos da Mente de Cristo - he says that they must lack the moral sense. He says this may mean they are beasts. Or it may mean that they are unfallen, having not yet eaten of the fruit of the forbidden tree." She smiled tightly. "But that's theology, and so it means nothing to you."
He did not answer. He was used to the way religious people assumed that their sacred stories must sound absurd to unbelievers. But Ender did not consider himself an unbeliever, and he had a keen sense of the sacredness of many tales. But he could not explain this to Bosquinha. She would have to change her assumptions about him over time. She was suspicious of him, but he believed she could be won; to be a good Mayor, she had to be skilled at seeing people for what they are, not for what they seem.
He turned the subject. "The Filhos da Mente de Cristo-- my Portuguese isn't strong, but does that mean 'Sons of the Mind of Christ'?"
"They're a new order, relatively speaking, formed only four hundred years ago under a special dispensation of the Pope--"
"Oh, I know the Children of the Mind of Christ, Mayor. I Spoke the death of San Angelo on Moctezuma, in the city of Cordoba."
Speaker For the Dead, by Orson Scott Card.
I'd forgotten how many religious references there were in this book. I'd also forgotten that it won (and deserved!) both the Hugo and the Nebula Awards.
He did not answer. He was used to the way religious people assumed that their sacred stories must sound absurd to unbelievers. But Ender did not consider himself an unbeliever, and he had a keen sense of the sacredness of many tales. But he could not explain this to Bosquinha. She would have to change her assumptions about him over time. She was suspicious of him, but he believed she could be won; to be a good Mayor, she had to be skilled at seeing people for what they are, not for what they seem.
He turned the subject. "The Filhos da Mente de Cristo-- my Portuguese isn't strong, but does that mean 'Sons of the Mind of Christ'?"
"They're a new order, relatively speaking, formed only four hundred years ago under a special dispensation of the Pope--"
"Oh, I know the Children of the Mind of Christ, Mayor. I Spoke the death of San Angelo on Moctezuma, in the city of Cordoba."
Speaker For the Dead, by Orson Scott Card.
I'd forgotten how many religious references there were in this book. I'd also forgotten that it won (and deserved!) both the Hugo and the Nebula Awards.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
This and that
I haven't been blogging here very much lately, at least compared to years gone by. My classes have been over for a few months but now it's summertime and it's finally beautiful outside. And my reading is more diverse these days.
I am still fascinated by religion & spirituality & myth in science fiction and fantasy, no doubt about that. So there'll be a steady drip-drip-drip of little posts coming through. I get the sense that my regulars have me on their RSS feed lists (or whatever it's called). No problems there. If you're like me and prefer to check the actual sites, just check in every two weeks or so.
SF Gospel has been blogging up a (very interesting) storm lately. I imagine most of my readers are also his readers and if you're not, you should be. Sci-fi Catholic was blogging heavily in the first half of June though he's taking a bit of a break. And don't forget all the other interesting people linked to under "SF/F/F Sites" over on the right.
A few tidbits:
I read Anne Rice's new Christ the Lord: The Road to Canada. Err, I meant, The Road to Cana. (It's hard not to add that final 'da,' just like I can hardly type "Wolf" without making it "Wolfe.") It's well written and had some insights that are going to stay with me, but I didn't feel it had the same power as her Out of Egypt. It has a lot to do with family/clan/small town dynamics that I didn't quite grasp at first. It's concerned partly with Jesus' life before his baptism, and partly with events that we hear about in the Gospels. I think there was more room for Rice's historically-grounded creativity in the (relatively) blank spaces, than when she's writing between the lines of the already-received story. I don't think it was a failure; it just didn't move me like the first one did. But check out some other reviews.
I started to read Dreamers of the Day, by Mary Doria Russell. I got a little bogged down and put it aside for the time being. The narrative style seemed different than in her previous books, and I felt that Russell was drawing my attention a little too insistently to the parallels between the era of the Great War and our own time. I think the parallels exist and are indeed relevant, just that they came across too obviously. That might just be because I'd already been reading about contemporary foreign affairs & politics.
I bought a copy of Queen City Jazz, by Katherine Ann Goonan a few weeks ago and browsed through it. This is a book I read in my teenage years and which I reminisced about here. Apparently I forgot that the protagonist was a girl, not a boy. At the beginning she lives with a community of New Shakers, in an America that has been radically transfigured. Goonan makes good use of older American folkways (like snatches of old hymns) and locales to communicate a pre-industrial world which exists alongside a very high-tech one.
I have been (re)-reading other relevant books in these (somewhat) lazy days of summer, but just bits here and there, just enjoying them. The Man in the High Castle, Peace, Pirate Freedom, Exodus from the Long Sun, Neuromancer, Speaker for the Dead, etc.
I am still fascinated by religion & spirituality & myth in science fiction and fantasy, no doubt about that. So there'll be a steady drip-drip-drip of little posts coming through. I get the sense that my regulars have me on their RSS feed lists (or whatever it's called). No problems there. If you're like me and prefer to check the actual sites, just check in every two weeks or so.
SF Gospel has been blogging up a (very interesting) storm lately. I imagine most of my readers are also his readers and if you're not, you should be. Sci-fi Catholic was blogging heavily in the first half of June though he's taking a bit of a break. And don't forget all the other interesting people linked to under "SF/F/F Sites" over on the right.
A few tidbits:
I read Anne Rice's new Christ the Lord: The Road to Canada. Err, I meant, The Road to Cana. (It's hard not to add that final 'da,' just like I can hardly type "Wolf" without making it "Wolfe.") It's well written and had some insights that are going to stay with me, but I didn't feel it had the same power as her Out of Egypt. It has a lot to do with family/clan/small town dynamics that I didn't quite grasp at first. It's concerned partly with Jesus' life before his baptism, and partly with events that we hear about in the Gospels. I think there was more room for Rice's historically-grounded creativity in the (relatively) blank spaces, than when she's writing between the lines of the already-received story. I don't think it was a failure; it just didn't move me like the first one did. But check out some other reviews.
I started to read Dreamers of the Day, by Mary Doria Russell. I got a little bogged down and put it aside for the time being. The narrative style seemed different than in her previous books, and I felt that Russell was drawing my attention a little too insistently to the parallels between the era of the Great War and our own time. I think the parallels exist and are indeed relevant, just that they came across too obviously. That might just be because I'd already been reading about contemporary foreign affairs & politics.
I bought a copy of Queen City Jazz, by Katherine Ann Goonan a few weeks ago and browsed through it. This is a book I read in my teenage years and which I reminisced about here. Apparently I forgot that the protagonist was a girl, not a boy. At the beginning she lives with a community of New Shakers, in an America that has been radically transfigured. Goonan makes good use of older American folkways (like snatches of old hymns) and locales to communicate a pre-industrial world which exists alongside a very high-tech one.
I have been (re)-reading other relevant books in these (somewhat) lazy days of summer, but just bits here and there, just enjoying them. The Man in the High Castle, Peace, Pirate Freedom, Exodus from the Long Sun, Neuromancer, Speaker for the Dead, etc.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Losing your head
I'm a bit behind the game on this one, but Fallen Sparrow has an interesting post about severed heads and their bodies which touches on science fiction, Catholic theology, zombie movies and many other things:
Dualism, Zombies, and Persistently Conscious Heads
I was particularly struck by the fifteenth-century painting of St. Denis holding his severed head, because as Fallow Sparrow points out, both the head and the bloody stump of his neck have haloes around them!!
The Robert Olen Butler book he discusses sounds very interesting indeed. And I was reminded of Land of the Headless.
Via Eve Tushnet
PS: Sorry about the title. Couldn't resist.
Dualism, Zombies, and Persistently Conscious Heads
I was particularly struck by the fifteenth-century painting of St. Denis holding his severed head, because as Fallow Sparrow points out, both the head and the bloody stump of his neck have haloes around them!!
The Robert Olen Butler book he discusses sounds very interesting indeed. And I was reminded of Land of the Headless.
Via Eve Tushnet
PS: Sorry about the title. Couldn't resist.
Jah love
His gloved hand slapped a panel and the bass-heavy rocksteady of Zion dub came pulsing from the tug's speakers. "Maelcum not runnin', no. I talk wi' Aerol, he certain t' see it in similar light."
Case stared. "I don't understand you guys at all." he said.
"Don' stan' you, mon," the Zionite said, nodding to the beat, "but we mus' move by Jah love, each one."
Neuromancer, by William Gibson.
(I found out recently that at least one reader of Neuromancer thought 'dub music' was just a science fictional idea that William Gibson made up. Nope. It's real. You can check out some of these collections if you need an introduction.)
Case stared. "I don't understand you guys at all." he said.
"Don' stan' you, mon," the Zionite said, nodding to the beat, "but we mus' move by Jah love, each one."
Neuromancer, by William Gibson.
(I found out recently that at least one reader of Neuromancer thought 'dub music' was just a science fictional idea that William Gibson made up. Nope. It's real. You can check out some of these collections if you need an introduction.)
Friday, June 20, 2008
Cornell, Lewis and a crash
Over at The House of Awkwardness, Paul Cornell writes:
So, we were heading home from Oxford on Tuesday night, on the way back from me addressing the C.S. Lewis Society. They were a lovely bunch, and a number of the university’s Doctor Who Society came along as well, and I managed to vamp around my theme to reasonable effect until I ran out of words and became possibly the only speaker in the Society’s history to confess to not much liking Lewis’ work. Hmm. That ambassadorial career may never come to pass.
Telling a gathered Society that you don't really like the work of their hero?! That's really taking your life into your own hands. He's a brave man!
Most of the rest of the post is a carefully described account of a dangerous head-on collision that occurred on the trip back from Oxford. If this were a thriller novel the crash would have been caused by a vengeful Lewis fanatic driving a stolen garbage truck and ranting against the heretic. But it's real life, so the crash was caused by another driver displaying reckless impatience. And I'm very glad to hear that their Ford Focus crumpled the way it was designed to, letting Cornell and his wife survive reasonably intact.
So, we were heading home from Oxford on Tuesday night, on the way back from me addressing the C.S. Lewis Society. They were a lovely bunch, and a number of the university’s Doctor Who Society came along as well, and I managed to vamp around my theme to reasonable effect until I ran out of words and became possibly the only speaker in the Society’s history to confess to not much liking Lewis’ work. Hmm. That ambassadorial career may never come to pass.
Telling a gathered Society that you don't really like the work of their hero?! That's really taking your life into your own hands. He's a brave man!
Most of the rest of the post is a carefully described account of a dangerous head-on collision that occurred on the trip back from Oxford. If this were a thriller novel the crash would have been caused by a vengeful Lewis fanatic driving a stolen garbage truck and ranting against the heretic. But it's real life, so the crash was caused by another driver displaying reckless impatience. And I'm very glad to hear that their Ford Focus crumpled the way it was designed to, letting Cornell and his wife survive reasonably intact.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Golden Age sf
SF Gospel has posted a short review of Space Vulture. (He liked it.) It's an homage to the old-school pulp sf novels, written by Gary K. Wolf and Archbishop John J. Myers.
His review got me thinking about old-school sf. Lately I've been reading The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964. I wanted to further my science fictional education and read more of the classic Golden Age stories which are often referenced by critics and fans. And many of the stories in this collection, voted on by the membership of the SFWA, are new to me.
I didn't expect the book to be at all relevant to this blog. My general impression has been that religious imagery or spirituality only became a major topic in the New Wave of science fiction, sometime in the 1960s. There were a handful of exceptions, of course (like Walter Miller or Anthony Boucher) but for the most part the Golden Age was apathetic to religion.
But I'm beginning to think I was mistaken, at least partially. There are twenty-six stories in the collection. At least six of them deal significantly with religious themes: Microcosmic God, by Theodore Sturgeon; Nightfall, by Asimov; Mars is Heaven!, by Bradbury; Quest for Saint Aquin, by Anthony Boucher; Nine Billion Names of God, by Clarke; and A Rose for Ecclesiastes, by Roger Zelazny. Two of the other authors included had written or would go on to write classics of religious sf: Cordwainer Smith and James Blish. And another two may not have used such symbolism in their stories, but did identify themselves as Roman Catholics: Murray Leinster & Clifford D. Simak.
The editor, Robert Silverberg (who's written some great fiction on spiritual themes) notes that one more story was voted into the Hall of Fame (as fifteenth favourite) but had to be excluded because the author was already represented: Arthur C. Clarke's The Star. Which is, of course, about a Jesuit agonizing over a hard theological problem. Silverberg also commends the first secretary-treasurer of the SFWA for his efforts in forming that organization: Lloyd Biggle, Jr., who was apparently also a Catholic.
So perhaps my impressions should be amended. Much Golden Age sf did avoid religion, and many of the classic authors were determined secularists. But among the very best, a significant minority explored religious ideas in their work, in their lives, or both.
[PS: I'd mis-remembered what Silverberg said about Lloyd Biggle, so I've corrected that sentence.]
His review got me thinking about old-school sf. Lately I've been reading The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964. I wanted to further my science fictional education and read more of the classic Golden Age stories which are often referenced by critics and fans. And many of the stories in this collection, voted on by the membership of the SFWA, are new to me.
I didn't expect the book to be at all relevant to this blog. My general impression has been that religious imagery or spirituality only became a major topic in the New Wave of science fiction, sometime in the 1960s. There were a handful of exceptions, of course (like Walter Miller or Anthony Boucher) but for the most part the Golden Age was apathetic to religion.
But I'm beginning to think I was mistaken, at least partially. There are twenty-six stories in the collection. At least six of them deal significantly with religious themes: Microcosmic God, by Theodore Sturgeon; Nightfall, by Asimov; Mars is Heaven!, by Bradbury; Quest for Saint Aquin, by Anthony Boucher; Nine Billion Names of God, by Clarke; and A Rose for Ecclesiastes, by Roger Zelazny. Two of the other authors included had written or would go on to write classics of religious sf: Cordwainer Smith and James Blish. And another two may not have used such symbolism in their stories, but did identify themselves as Roman Catholics: Murray Leinster & Clifford D. Simak.
The editor, Robert Silverberg (who's written some great fiction on spiritual themes) notes that one more story was voted into the Hall of Fame (as fifteenth favourite) but had to be excluded because the author was already represented: Arthur C. Clarke's The Star. Which is, of course, about a Jesuit agonizing over a hard theological problem. Silverberg also commends the first secretary-treasurer of the SFWA for his efforts in forming that organization: Lloyd Biggle, Jr., who was apparently also a Catholic.
So perhaps my impressions should be amended. Much Golden Age sf did avoid religion, and many of the classic authors were determined secularists. But among the very best, a significant minority explored religious ideas in their work, in their lives, or both.
[PS: I'd mis-remembered what Silverberg said about Lloyd Biggle, so I've corrected that sentence.]
Friday, June 13, 2008
Terry Pratchett
I'm not entirely sure what to think of this news item. But it seems that Discworld author Terry Pratchett's views on the gods or God have mellowed somewhat:
"...in an interview with a Sunday newspaper, he said: "It is just possible that once you have got past all the gods that we have created with big beards and many human traits, just beyond all that, on the other side of physics, they just may be the ordered structure from which everything flows. That is both a kind of philosophy and totally useless - it doesn't take you anywhere. But it fills a hole."
These comments are apparently linked to a recent experience which Pratchett describes. However, last year he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, so I'm sure many people will dismiss any new opinion because of that.
"...in an interview with a Sunday newspaper, he said: "It is just possible that once you have got past all the gods that we have created with big beards and many human traits, just beyond all that, on the other side of physics, they just may be the ordered structure from which everything flows. That is both a kind of philosophy and totally useless - it doesn't take you anywhere. But it fills a hole."
These comments are apparently linked to a recent experience which Pratchett describes. However, last year he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, so I'm sure many people will dismiss any new opinion because of that.
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