B.G. is going to be pissed...

But before I explain why... apologies again for the horribly delayed posting. We'll keep trying to stay updated. Thanks for checking back with us.

And now to the crux of the matter:

Pirate Freedom (Gene Wolfe)

I must disabuse you of any idea that this might be a recommendation. Rather, this is quite the opposite. Which is sort of against the whole point of this blog. Neither of us wants to rip on books that are bad (see here). We really just want to chat about some books we liked (not review them, just chat), occasionally recommend books we think are fantastic, that sort of thing. There are lots of other places you can go read about books that sucked (but seriously, who wants to?).

However, Billy Goat likes Mr. Wolfe's works too much for me to pass on this. And I also have not found any of Mr. Wolfe's novels to be less than good (until now). This is a clear demonstration of Rule Number One: no author is ceaselessly brilliant.

So. Gene Wolfe:

The Book of the New Sun, a series of four novels about Severian, the Torturer's Apprentice, set in the distant future. Ex-cell-ent! Wonderfully turgid.

The Book of the Long Sun, a kind of companion quartet, set in the same universe. The writing is a little more clear, but with Mr. Wolfe's typically cryptic and convoluted plot. I actually never finished the series, but it contains some of the most wonderful writing in science-fiction.

Not as good is The Urth of the New Sun, but it still has such amazing creativity that I can't honestly criticize.

And on the fantasy side: Soldier of the Mist and its two sequels. These are novels set in the ancient Mediterranean, narrated by a man with no memory (the opposite of Severian, I suppose). The setting, the history, the characters -- brilliant. Billy Goat tells me these novels are semi-obscure; I urge you check them out.

I thought for sure Mr. Wolfe would finally succumb to Rule Number One with Free Live Free. This is sci-fi in the near-modern day, much grittier and almost like "real" fiction. Hardly my favorite, but Mr. Wolfe pulls it off with a stunningly creative ending. Alas, to explain why I like the novel would be give you unforgivable spoilers.

And finally (though I have not yet exhausted the Wolfish canon), I came to Pirate Freedom. It's a novel, quite simply, set in the Spanish Main. Pirates! Ships! Guns! What's not to love? And yet, somehow... there's not much there. It's such a quiet novel, admittedly with some intriguing plot twists (very typical of Mr. Wolfe), but a decided lack of swashbuckling-ness. It's almost as if Mr. Wolfe tried too hard to be faithful to the historical period--which was interesting in its own right, but hardly anything like the piratical archetypes that one would long for in a novel.

Worst of all, the novel ends up being narrated from the modern-day, by a priest who somehow ends up back in time (Mr. Wolfe's notions of cyclical time are always present in his novels, but this one compares quite well with Free Live Free. Just in case you've read it.)

OK, OK, I don't mind if the main character is translated back in time to start things off. Works for Mark Twain, works for me. But do we have to spend part of every chapter back in the modern day youth center? Like, really? 'Cause I'm just here for the pirates.

I think perhaps Mr. Wolfe would have been better off just writing a novel set in the Spanish Main. Skip the sci-fi aspect, keep the characters true to the time period -- I think he could have done a fantastic job. But alas, this novel is the inevitable result... of Rule Number One.

That's it, folks, rant over! I hope Billy Goat will offer an indignant defense of his main man in the comments. And let's all encourage him to offer us a series of posts on the good novels of Gene Wolfe (of which there are many).

The End of Mr. Y (Scarlett Thomas)

The End of Mr. Y is quite an odd book, but it is refreshing to read something new and different. (The closest thing that I have read is Goedel, Escher, Bach by Mr. Douglas Hofstadter.)

It's been reviewed already, and I am afraid that I really have nothing else to add. Check it out!

(Very short: both Billy Goat and I--independently--have rather important things swirling around offline.)

Just add four drops of atomic tritetramethylbenzacarbonethylene...

Recommended: The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet (Eleanor Cameron)

I am-let's be honest-still a fairly young person. True, I remember growing up from a little troll-ling into an honest and (one hopes) respected bridgekeeper, but the slower changes of growing older I know little about. Aging, to me, is a slight expansion of the waistline and a feeling of goosebumps as my scalp sheds its natural insulation.

For me, one of the most notable aspects of aging is being able to look back upon books I read as a child with a richer and deeper perspective. Unfortunately, that look backwards is often bittersweet. I recall the charm and joy of much-loved works, but I am put off by the simplicity of the story.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, for example, is one of these stories which is difficult to read again and again as an adult. It's a wonderful story, but it's just too simple to enjoy completely as an adult. A few bits and pieces are visible to me now that were obscure as a child: the overdone religious symbolism for one, and (more amusingly) the sexual innuendo (quite eyebrow-raising, really).

But I do enjoy going back to the stories I enjoyed as a child - that clichéd trip down memory lane. One story I seem to track down every ten years or so is The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet. As I've mentioned before, I enjoy the stereotypical 1950's-style science-fiction, space-meets-suburbia, with be-apron-ed moms and pipe-smoking dads and clean-cut boys causing all sorts of ruckus in the Junior Rocketeers. (The gender stereotypes are a bit much to swallow, but I enjoy the old sci-fi.)

The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet is certainly not a Heinlein story, but it's in a similar style. David and Chuck (Chuck!) are fast suburban friends who answer the following advertisement:

---

Wanted. A small space ship about eight feet long, built by a boy, or by two boys, between the ages of eight and eleven. The ship should be made of materials at hand. An adventure and a chance to do a good deed await the boys who built the best space ship. Please bring your ship as soon as possible to Mr. Tyco M. Bass, 5 Thallo Street, Pacific Grove, California.

---

So naturally, the intrepid children hammer together a space ship and drag it to the observatory of the mysterious Mr. Tycho Bass. I'm afraid it sounds creepy when I phrase it like that, but really this is a harmless story of a space adventure and, yes, a very good deed. It's the originality of the character of Tycho that I remember so well, and I hope you'll enjoy the character as well.

I'm sure you can find the story in your local library. The series continues: Stowaway to the Mushroom Planet, Mr. Bass's Planetoid, A Mystery for Mr. Bass, and Time and Mr. Bass.

The Future of Religion (Part 4)

[Edited to add: This is turning into a modestly popular series of posts, with comments continuing to trickle in (the Long Tail!). Please be sure to peruse the comments to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. And, err, Part 5.]

It's time to sum up. This has turned out to be a very interesting set of posts on the topic of religion in science fiction -- interesting for me to work out some thoughts I had, and interesting to read some comments that others have had. I opened with some musings about the portrayal of human religion in science fiction, followed up with a short aside on the alleged conflict between science and religion, and wondered why so little of science fiction shows humans with religion.

The thesis (or perhaps more accurately: supposition) is as follows:

Very few novels in science fiction portray humans as religious.

Please note that I am referring to religion of humans in science fiction (not religious themes, or religion of aliens). Religion may be rife in science fiction, but largely in the purview of aliens (religion as The Other). I would frankly expect the opposite -- that we would unconsciously assume religion to be a human endeavor, while rarely if at all ascribing religion to aliens. Instead I find that authors typically portray humans as areligious.

Lately I've been mentally contrasting science fiction and fantasy along these terms. A typical fantasy novel: the priest character is so common, he's a cliche (the use of a gendered pronoun was intentional, but not relevant to this topic). Don't tell me that religion is necessary to fantasy: sprites and gnolls, knights and magic -- all these can do just fine without gods. There's no need for religion at all. But pull a random science fiction book off the novel, and do you find the characters praying for their safety before dropping out of FTL? I think not. (And why not?)

Hence my statement that humans in science fiction are rarely portrayed as religions, and my confusion as to why this is so.

Of course, my thesis has been disputed by the commenters (you know who are), but the more I think about it, the more I think I'm right. (After all, nothing can convince a man -- or troll -- faster than someone who tells him he's wrong.)

In this post, I want to offer a very, very brief list of science fiction novels that do directly portray humans as religious. Not surprisingly, the commenters covered all the novels that I am familiar with, and offered some more that I will hopefully read soon. (With apologies for my pathetic attempts at one-sentence teasers.)

Let's start with the ones I was thinking about:

• A Canticle for Leibowitz (Walter M. Miller, Jr.): humans have been nuked back to savagery, but the Catholic monastic orders preserve knowledge for the future of humanity.


• A Wrinkle in Time (Madeleine L'Engle): Meg is torn by the long disappearance of her physicist father (hey, that's me!) and her concern over her very young brother's social isolation. The curious Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who, and Mrs Which offer their help, and Meg must do her part in the struggle against evil -- on the other side of the galaxy. (Thanks to Mrs. Billy Goat for reminding me of this fantastic series.)


• The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood): in a near-future Christian fundamentalistic theocracy, officially-recognized concubines bear children in place of barren upper class women (male infertility is a subversive concept). (Frankly: boring.)


• Contact (Carl Sagan): the novel itself is not entirely well-known, but you've probably heard of the movie. The main characters in the novel struggle with faith and religion, but this is certainly well into the background of the larger plot.


• "The Last Question" (Isaac Asimov): this short story focuses on the question of whether entropy can be reversed. I had the opportunity to see a planetarium show adaptationy, and it was brilliant. You could probably get the same effect by reading the story out loud while pretending to be Leonard Nimoy. Try it. Let me know how it goes. (To be fair, short stories in science fiction often address religious themes. I have unconsciously equated "science fiction" with "science fiction novels" for this series of posts, but I like this story so much I have to mention it here.)


• Space Trilogy (C. S. Lewis): Mr. Lewis' science fiction is garnering a little bit more attention. Like his better-known (and better-written) Narnia Chronicles, the Space Trilogy is a vehicle for Mr. Lewis' Christian philosophies. The first two works, Out of the Silent Planet and Perelandra, read more like late 1800's science fiction, and are not entirely memorable. That Hideous Strength, however, is quite good (and may be read on its own). Science fiction meets World War II England - very, very good.


• Stranger in a Strange Land (Robert Heinlein): a wonderful novel, and quite well known. Valentine Michael Smith grows up under the tutelage of Martians, but is returned to Earth and must painfully learn to understand just what brand of monkeys we really are. But still puzzling to me: what exactly is Heinlein trying to say about religion? Does he buy it? Or does he think it's total crap? Am I missing the point, or are his ideas entirely muddled?


• Dune (Frank Herbert): brilliant (but for the love of all that's dear, don't read the sequels). Dune presents a wonderfully envisioned future of medieval, backstabbing politics. The plots and counter-plots swirl around the House Atreides, which is crushed on the desert planet of Arrakis. The heir, Paul Atreides, survives with the help of the indigenous Fremen.


• The Hainish Cycle (Ursula K. Le Guin): I'm afraid no one- or two-sentence summary can describe these works. Some deal more explicitly with religion (The Telling), while others merely have religion quietly in the background (humans who belong to the Ekumen appear to have a kind of quiet spirituality). I can strongly recommend The Left Hand of Darkness (yes!) and The Dispossessed (double yes!), although as I mentioned, don't expect overt religious overtones.

In addition, the commenters kindly offered the following: The Sparrow, Children of God, Factoring Humanity, Revolt in 2100, the Riverworld series, Xenocide, The Rise of Endymion, the Long Sun series, The Electric Church, The Mote in God's Eye, Instrumentality, Return to Planet of the Apes, Gather, Darkness!, Players of Null A, Variable Star, and Starmaker.

Hopefully I got 'em all? A few I have already read, but most not; I think Sparrow, Instrumentality, and Gather, Darkness sound most promising.

However, I currently have a request list of approximately 40 books and movies at the public library, so clearly I won't be getting to these books soon. Thank to the readers who shared!

And finally, any missing books that show a science fiction humanity with religion?

The Future of Religion (Part 3)

[Edited to add: This is turning into a modestly popular series of posts, with comments continuing to trickle in (the Long Tail!). Please be sure to peruse the comments to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. And, err, Part 5.]

In last week's post, I briefly introduced the current conflict between science and religion in the US of A. The topic of this series is, however, science fiction, so let's move forward.

I have asserted that religion is essentially verboten in science fiction (some exceptions were already noted in the comments to my first post). How can that be? Religion, faith, spirituality -- all these are commonplace in literature. Fantasy is, in my mind, a closely-related genre, but fantasy novels feature the supernatural all the time. Science-fiction: essentially never.

So why is religion overlooked in science-fiction? Let me try to work through some of my thoughts on what might be going on.

• Science fiction authors aren't religious.
  
  
  This is an interesting possibility. I don't really know any way to test this theory... it's true that scientists tend to be less religious than the general population, but scientists and science-fiction-authors are very different creatures.


• The conflict between science and religion has already been won for science in the future.
  
  
  This possibility presumes a few things: first, that there is a conflict between science and religion, and second, that it will be won for science in the future. There are indeed many conflicts between science and religion, but not in all things; neither is it necessary that science and religion conflict. Whether this putative conflict will or won't be won in the future is obviously open for debate. Suppose religion "wins" in the future--isn't that going to make for interesting, creative science-fiction? Suppose science "wins"--does that mean future people will hold no spiritual beliefs at all? And what happens when we meet alien races that do hold strong religious beliefs?


• Religion doesn't sell.
  
  
  I think this might be the real reason. Authors are professionals, and their publishers are professionals -- they're all in the business of making money (more charitably: a living). I'm inclined to believe they have a very good idea of what sells. So my guess is that science-fiction novels that feature future religions rarely sell well.
  
  But why wouldn't religion in sci-fi sell well? Is it that the people who buy sci-fi aren't very religious? What's the biggest audience for sci-fi anyways?
  
  Could things be more subtle than the sci-fi audience isn't really interested in religion? Suppose the sci-fi audience is reasonably religious. What happens if an author portrays a future for a particular religion? Will the Catholic League condemn books that portray a future that is monolithically Methodist? Jewish? Hindu? Is it possible to envision a science-fiction future in which the human race is as multicultural as it is today?

So what do you think - why is religion avoided in science fiction?

Next week I'll try listing a few science fiction novels that actually deal with religion.

Spitting in the Eye of the Technological Singularity

The Technological Singularity is a big idea in the world of Sci-Fi. In case you don't know what the Technological Singularity is, I've identified two major definitions with Wikipedia's help:

1. The Singularity Institute for Artificial Intelligence defines it as "the technological creation of smarter-than-human intelligence."

2. Futurist Ray Kurzweil says, "The Singularity is technological change so rapid and so profound that it represents a rupture in the fabric of human history. Some would say that we cannot comprehend the Singularity, at least with our current level of understanding, and that it is impossible, therefore, to look past its 'event horizon' and make sense of what lies beyond."

The idea is that once a "smarter-than-human" AI is created, it will be able to build AI smarter than itself, and so on, and the changes to technology accelerate from there. It conjures images of futures filled with world-ruling robots, technologically-augmented humans, and thinking computers that hold the answers to questions humans have not even thought to ask yet. On its surface it's a neat idea and its name has a fun science-y sound. However, besides being fun to talk about, I'm not convinced the idea has much to offer. It has a number of problems that make it implausible. Instead of the definitions listed above, I contend that the Technological Singularity is three things:

1. A Buzzword that Leverages the Mystique of Artificial Intelligence
2. Magic Masquerading as Science
3. A Crutch for Sci-Fi Writers

Now, I'll elaborate.

1. A Buzzword that Leverages the Mystique of Artificial Intelligence

Kurzweil's definition is pretty over-the-top. I don't even know what a "rupture in the fabric of human history" would be. Perhaps this is just another way to say it would be "earth-shattering," or "change everything," etc. Anyway, I don't buy it. Technological advancement won't speed up to the levels he and others have theorized. They've claimed that the exponential curve of technological progress the human race has been making over its existence will continue its ramp up that curve for a long time to come. This just won't happen.

Here's why: True exponential curves do not exist in real life for very long. There are hard limits in this universe such as the speed of light, or the size of an atom. Finite resources and the laws of physics slow everything down eventually. Sometimes a paradigm shift or genius insight can move technology past a roadblock, but some roadblocks you just cannot pass ... unless you believe in magic.

Intelligence is less well understood than physics, making it ripe ground for speculation and forecasting the future (or "future casting" if you're a weatherman) . However, self-driven intelligence has been an elusive animal to this date. It is easy for humans to manipulate computers to do what we tell them to do, or even perform simple decisions based on a mathematical weighting function. However, in 30+ years of AI research, we have little to show other than fancy search techniques, decision trees, and algorithms that can recognize patterns. This does not mean there will not be a breakthrough into a self-motivated AI that can make complex decisions.

However, I do not think the Singularity will occur as stated, even if we create such an AI. The idea is that once an artificial mind is created that contains "intelligence" to surpass human intelligence, it can then create a better artificial mind with higher intellectual function. This is daydreaming at its finest. Intelligence is no easy thing to quantify. How do we know when we have a machine that is more intelligent than its creator?

Answer: It can perform mental tasks that we cannot.

Now, I'm not talking about all the great things computers can do now, such as performing math faster, winning at chess, and drawing fancy pictures on our computer screens. The idea of a "smarter" computer, is one that can do something that we, as humans, can not do, something that is impossible to do with just a human brain and a process to follow.

Knowing how to program a computer, I have a deep sense that this is impossible. It is especially absurd when you look inside a computer program and discover that if you just performed the same steps as the computer, you could come out with the same answer, just taking more time. If you used a tool to automate some of the menial portions, you could do the same thing, perhaps almost as fast as the computer. You might need some training to do it, but you could do it, too.

What this all boils down to is tools and training. At the core of an AI is a machine to make decisions. At the core of a person is a brain that makes decisions. With the right tools, one can be as good at a particular task, or almost as good as another. Therefore, balancing the premise of the Singularity on AI is incorrect. An AI is like a nice calculator, or someone you pay to do your homework. Doing your homework without them will take longer, but you'll still finish with plenty of time to go play.

Therefore, when we boil down the definitions and take a clear look at them, we see that there's nothing inherently special about AI to make all this happen, and this idea of creating a "smarter" AI than what the human mind can produce is bunk. Therefore, there's no such thing as this "Singularity," this event of creating that AI.

As far as the ideas of robotic armies and AI overlords, that's nothing new. We've had Attila the Hun and Hitler, and all sorts of other nasty sociopaths and their movements to deal with in the past. Dealing with these new jerks might be a little harder, but let's hope that we can keep some of those technological advantages for ourselves if we are indeed stupid enough to engineer our own worst enemies.

2. Magic Masquerading as Science

As I wrote above, I believe that it may be possible for a human to create an AI that can perform the same functions as a human. However, to believe that the creation of such an AI will speed our progress ever forward at increasingly-breakneck speeds because of it is fantasy. For one, because a smarter AI cannot be created, there will no longer be this promised ramp of continually smarter AIs. Also, even with fancy AI that is as smart as a human, we are limited by resources. An AI needs to run on a processor with some other peripheral hardware, including memory, network components, robotics, etc. Also, all of these parts need maintenance, and to be replaced on occasion. Lastly, they need energy to function. Even if we reduce sizes down to the quantum level, these all still hold true.

Compare this to a human. Humans have a lot of the necessary hardware built in, and we self-maintain pretty well, some running for 100 years or more. We also procreate. However, resources are still necessary for us, too. There's also an argument here for biological computers, but if you're going to do that, why not just grow human brains? It comes to the same thing anyway.

It also takes time to build a machine to host the AI, and to train the AI, sort of like it takes time to create a functioning human. Granted, the time to create a computer is much smaller than the time necessary to grow a baby, but the resources become harder to procure over time, even if you start going to space to find them and trying to harness the sun for as much energy you can get. Space travel is expensive and time consuming, and harnessing solar energy has a long way to go. Even if you allow for big advances in these technologies, the theory behind the Singularity is starting to get clunky ("Oh, we need AI, and cheap solar, and better manufacturing, and fast space travel, etc.").

So, if we take all of this into account, we see that we'll reach our hard resource limitations faster, which will kill that exponential speed-up. Getting past that is going to take some magical thinking.

3. A Crutch for Sci-Fi Writers

The Singularity has caught on in the Sci-Fi community, and we are seeing more of these stories set after the Singularity. I like that authors who do this are ignoring the whole, "you can't predict what's going to happen after the Singularity!" idea. It's a stupid thing to posit because it's unverifiable and self-satisfying: it's hard to predict a lot of things, such as when we're going to get flying cars. However, just because I like their guts, does not mean that I think it's good form to posit some sort of Technological Singularity in fiction. It moves Sci-Fi into Fantasy, and makes the Sci-Fi less based in science. It's no worse than saying, "Then aliens gave us a bunch of great technology and now we do all sorts of fantastic new things with science," but just like getting all your great tech from aliens, it feels a little like a cop out, and when it gets overused, it starts to feel like a fad.

Let's Hear Your Thoughts

If you vehemently disagree, let me know. I have a feeling my view is not a popular one, especially since the idea of the Technological Singularity is an interesting one. However, I think I'm on the right track in guessing that the futurologists have thought this one out just as well as they thought out flying cars back in the fifties.

The Future of Religion (Part 2)

[Edited to add: This is turning into a modestly popular series of posts, with comments continuing to trickle in (the Long Tail!). Please be sure to peruse the comments to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. And, err, Part 5.]

Before we continue to discuss science fiction and religion, we must reflect briefly on religion and science. It is an oft-repeated canard that science and religion are different but equally valid ways of understanding the world.

No. Nonsense. And it's still nonsense no matter how often it's repeated by politicians, scientists, or religious adherents. "Science" is an organized body of knowledge, developed through the systematic application of the scientific method -- ultimately, it comes down to the systematic testing of hypotheses. Claims which cannot be tested are outside the purview of science.

For example, the presence of a supernatural being who cannot be observed through natural processes (allow me the redundancy for purposes of clarity) -- this is not a testable claim. One can neither prove nor disprove through experiment or systematic observation this possibility. This claim therefore belongs to the realm of religion, and not science.

However, I am not aware of any religion which makes no claims that can be tested. In fact, religions typically thrive on the assumption that the supernatural interferes with the natural. Intercessory prayer is a common practice among Christian religions, for example. Now this is testable: can intercessory prayer affect the outcome of certain events? (In fact, it has been tested, repeatedly, but discussing the validity of these experiments is a topic that belongs on another blog.)

Science and religion do overlap. However, they can still co-exist peacefully. Religion could welcome science - perhaps not all religions, or all interpretations of any given religion, but in principle... why not? The converse is also possible: science could thrive on religion (though not dogma). Scientists are seekers of truth -- is that not a phrase that could apply to many religious adherents?

The conflict arises because science accepts nothing - nothing - on faith. Everything must be tested, and when scientific knowledge begins to fail the best and most devious tests (note the plural), then that knowledge must be discarded. Evidence that conflicts with prevailing belief is examined, weighed, and -- if found valid -- gladly welcomed. To put it another way, scientific belief is based on evidence. Many religions (I do not say all) rely on dogma and faith; conflicting evidence is anathema.

Witness the fundamentalist Christian movement in the United States. A belief that the Bible must be literal and accurate results in a jarring conflict with scientific knowledge. The latest battlefield is the teaching of evolution (or lack thereof) in public schools, as well as a watering-down of science standards in order to permit the teaching of fundamentalist Christian beliefs. It's a very odd thing -- apparently many individuals are threatened by the fact of overwhelming evidence in favour of the validity of evolution by natural selection.

Some links might be of interest:

• The evidence to support evolution by natural selection is summarized here. You can download the pdf with a few clicks, or refer to an executive summary. (With thanks to PZ Myers of Pharyngula [see below] for the link to the NAS summary.)



• Perhaps you'll recall the Dover trial? The latest, of course, is the creationist push in Texas. Code words to notice: "teach the controversy" and "just a theory" all signal a fundamentalist push against science. This push is part of a very organized movement, often led by the deceitful Discovery Institute. Coming soon to a state near you! (Up here in Canada, the anti-science movement is far less strong at the moment, but I fear that it will change.)



• Are you interested in the scientific details of the creationism vs science debate? Try TalkOrigins. Panda's Thumb keeps track of the latest events in the creation vs science conflict. Pharyngula also provides current events, but readers may find the strident anti-religious tone to be offensive. In contrast, a haven of ignorance: Uncommon Descent. Or, for something truly frightening, the latest in creation "research".



• And there's the current US presidential race (sweet Mabel, will it never end?!), in which several of the initial Republican candidates expressly denied a belief in evolution. From Reason: "A larger question is whether a candidate's belief about the validity of evolutionary biology has anything to say about his or her ability to evaluate evidence."

The conflict between science and religion -- science and any cherished belief of human culture -- is hardly new. I have offered this crude summary of current events in the United States in order to provoke some thought about the future. Where will science and religion go in the future? Will the conflict continue? Will one "side" win?

I personally find it doubtful that religion will ever fade by the wayside. I find it impossible that the entire human species will ever agree on any one set of beliefs. Shouldn't science fiction reflect the religious and scientific turmoil we see today?

Comments are invited - how will the conflict between science and religion play out in the future, and how should science fiction address this issue? If you imagine a world in the future - aliens and spaceships and the whole lot - where does religion fit into your vision?

Next week I'll try musing about why science fiction so rarely addresses human religion.

The Future of Religion (Part 1)

[Edited to add: This is turning into a modestly popular series of posts, with comments continuing to trickle in (the Long Tail!). Please be sure to peruse the comments to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. And, err, Part 5.]

One topic that has been puzzling me lately has been the lack of any serious portrayal of religion in science-fiction. Science-fiction -- real science-fiction -- is in my opinion about people, about the interaction of science, technology, and human culture. Science-fiction is speculative anthropology (see Ursula K. Le Guin, for example). So what does science-fiction have to say about religion? Apparently, nothing.

Go figure.

Religion is seen frequently in science fiction, but almost always religion is associated with alien species. (Star Trek might be a very accessible example here.)

Recently I've been wondering about this while watching Babylon 5. Like much science-fiction (television or otherwise), there are several significant alien species. The Narns revere G'Quan and his writings; spirituality among Narns in general is frequently shown on the show. The Minbari on the show are highly religious. In contrast, the Centauri show little or no spirituality (other than, arguably, the potential civil religion focused on the old Republic). The Vorlons are too cryptic to make sense of, so we can draw no conclusions from them. The only remaining major species on Babylon 5 is the human species, and none of the major characters show any inclination towards religion while on the station, other than partaking in some of the Minbari rituals. True, there are a few episodes that deal with religious humans, such as an episode in which Roman Catholic monks arrive on the station, but overwhelmingly it appears that humans aren't religious.

(In one episode, a major spiritual visitation occurs on the space station. Representatives of each species each see their own main religious figure. The Narns see G'Quan; the Drazi - a minor species - see their ancient prophet; the Minbari see Valen. And what do humans see? Some sort of angel that looks like Mister Clean. I can't begin to guess what that was supposed to represent. Intriguingly, one automatically assumes a monolithic religion for the alien species, but that is simply not possible for humans.)

I won't claim that religion is a universal trait among humans, but it's pretty close to universal... so doesn't it seem odd that science-fiction overlooks the possibility that humans in the future might be religious?

This post is the first in a multi-part series. Please come back next Monday - I'll take a quick detour to blog about the alleged conflict between science and religion. After that, it's back to the science fiction, and hopefully I can present some ideas as to why science fiction typically ignores human religion.

In the meantime, comments are invited; what do you think might be going on? Any favourite science-fiction novels that do portray future religion?

Philip K. Dick in the movies

One of the things I like to do here is take a look at the stories or novels that inspire current movies. The stories usually win the comparison --though not always: most of the Harry Potter movies have been fantastic, while the originals are only so-so. (Feel free to disagree in the comments!) I recently got my hands on a collection of short stories by Philip K. Dick ("Selected Stories of..."), a fun collection of Cold War dystopic stories.

Let me talk about three of them.

"The Minority Report"

When I went to see the movie, I thought -- well, there's a chance they'll pull off a good sci-fi movie. Nah. I suppose it wasn't a bad action movie, and well, it wasn't remotely as bad as "I, Robot" (oh, Isaac! How unkind fate has been to you!), but sci-fi? Three pre-cogs vote on the best future, and the movie doesn't even address the idea of alternate futures? No one is uncomfortable with the morality of jailing people who haven't yet committed a crime? Does it occur to no one that maybe, just maybe, if you told people, hey, we know you're about to kill someone, then maybe they wouldn't do it? Did anyone put any thought into this movie at all?! Other than the product placement team??!

(All right, I had to get that out of my system. Bottled it up for years. Phew. I feel better. It's OK. But: gah!)

The story, also titled "The Minority Report", is quite short. I won't give it away; the ending goes in quite a different direction than in the movie. But at least the characters acknowledge the difficulties -- physics, ethics -- in a world where people are jailed before they commit a crime. And best of all, the main character actually knows something about the system he's using. Apparently Tom Cruise never even knew the pre-cogs disagreed! Who put this guy in charge?!

No, wait -- let me finish -- ow -- can't suppress -- the truth, man -- mumble mumble...

"We Can Remember It for You Wholesale"

Don't worry folks, everything is now under control. The unfortunate outburst you just witnessed has been... dealt with. Ahem.

Well, here I have to admit that I never saw Total Recall. (Seriously. I don't get cable under the bridge.) I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Total Recall was an action movie -- and I think it took place on Mars, yes? (I did once catch the last five minutes or so, but that was a long time ago -- I may be wrong.)

The story is quite quaint, probably more interesting as a foil to a movie than as a story in its own right. It's intended to amuse; there's almost no action. The main character, Quail, can't afford to take a trip to Mars, so he decides to sign up for a faked-memory program. The company will give him fake memories and plant a few mementos in his house: Quail will have memories of being sent as a spy to Mars, an agent for Interplan -- a real adventurous trip to Mars! Unfortunately, when Rekal, Inc. sedates him, they learn he actually did go to Mars as an agent for Interplan and had had his memory mostly wiped.

Oh, shit, they think, and do what any reputable company would do: "Sorry, pal, the procedure didn't work. We're refunding half your money. Please don't come back. Have a nice day!" slam!

And so the fun begins!

"Imposter"

Again, a very short sci-fi story drawn out into an action movie. (Yes! A movie! Same name. With that guy from CSI.) The movie itself is not bad -- not bad action, not bad sci-fi. It's not great, because it doesn't delve into any really interesting ideas. The kernel is there, true, but it's not examined well.

Both the story and the movie start out the same: Spence Olham gets arrested by his good friend Nelson -- military intelligence believes Spence Olham was replaced by a booby-trapped robot from Alpha Centauri, and naturally want him... taken care of.

Olham isn't thrilled about this plan. He manages to escape temporarily, but he must convince his friend, his wife, and even himself that he is who he thinks he is.

It's a neat idea. Unfortunately neither the story nor the movie really gets into it. What if everyone believes you are already dead, and you are a deadly simulcrum? How could you convince them otherwise? How could you convince yourself? The movie takes the technological route ("X-ray in ward 2, stat!"), the story takes the plot route ("Dammit, I'll find the real robot myself!"). Neither delves into the psychology -- wouldn't it have been great to read about a man tortured by self-doubt?

But never mind -- short stories serve as a little sandbox for ideas, a place for playing. For real depth, we must turn to novels. (For a more critical review of the stories discussed here, you might try The Modern Word).

The Time Traveler's Wife

Recommended: The Time Traveler's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)

Before my latest foray into the romance genre, perhaps the closest I'd come to reading a romance novel was when I read The Time Traveler's Wife. I don't write this because it had the trappings of a romance novel, because it doesn't. Rather, I write it because it's a love story.

Henry DeTamble time travels inadvertently. He has no control over when he travels, or to where or when he will appear, or for how long he will stay. However, his travels have a pattern to them. They tend to focus around key events and people in his life. Therefore, it's no surprise that Henry often time travels to see his wife, Clare Abshire. These travels include points in Clare's life, including her childhood, before Henry's and her original meeting in "normal" time. The story jumps around, but progresses naturally, and we get to experience their twisted and crazy love story on a time frame that reaches from their childhoods into middle and old age.

Clare and Henry are easy to like, people you want to see happy. Their story is set close to the present, and seasoned with pop culture references that will surely date it, but these references add a distinct flavor. Though the time-traveling premise is sci-fi, the book uses it to explore issues that most sci-fi books do not, including those relating to marriage and fatherhood.

The book affected me. I read it three years ago, while visiting my wife's family for Christmas in San Francisco. I distinctly remember my visit to Alcatraz the day after I finished the book. I wandered off from the family, and as I explored the island, my mind kept jumping back and forth between envisioning life in the prison, and this story. I found hidden places that the rest of the tourists did not bother to find, beautiful places on the island that the guided tour missed. The Time Traveler's Wife got me thinking big thoughts on that little stroll, thoughts on causality, inevitability, and on how time changes each of us. I could expand on these themes here, but I'll let the book do it instead.

The Time Traveler's Wife is a worthy read. It visits a much-toured concept of sci-fi, that of time travel, but it takes us to some of those hidden places that we might have missed if we'd stuck to the usual route with the rest of the tourists.

The Golden Compass

Recommended: The Golden Compass (Philip Pullman)

It took me a while to decide that I wanted to "formally" recommend this book. It's a lovely story, but it can't be read alone, and I found the sequels (The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass) to be somewhat disappointing. No surprise, of course: Rule Number One always applies. So I wavered back and forth, but in the end, I remembered my primary criterion for making a recommendation: that it be a story which I would feel I was poorer for not having read.

Certainly I would feel poorer for not having read this book. The charming and impudent Lyra, the devoted armoured bear Iorek Byrnison, and the steady aeronaut Lee Scoresby--these are characters without any comparison in literature. It's a delight to read this story, and the feelings between Iorek, Lee, and Lyra are an almost palpable warmth. For these characters alone I urge you to read this story.

Lyra Belacqua is, frankly, a misbehaving little imp. Her guardian, the chill Lord Asriel, leaves her to the poor tutelage of the scholars of Jordan College, while he conducts experiments into the nature of the Dust (newly-discovered rays that seem to be attracted to adult consciousness). Naturally, Lyra cannot be held in such a small confine, and in time she and her familiar leave the musty crypts of the College, to head for the far and mysterious North, under the shimmering aurora borealis.

With that I must leave you to read the story yourself, though... perhaps I can give you a little bit more. Everyone has a familiar, called a daemon. The familiars of children can change shape at will, but as they age, the familiars take on a shape that reflects their personality. (Lord Asriel's: a snow leopard.) Bears, though, have no familiars. The bears of the North make their own armour from meteoric iron, an armour that reflects their self in much the way a familiar does for people. The armoured bears (panserbjorne) have incredible dexterity, and their cunning claws can work metal more forcefully and more delicately than any smith. Above all else, though, an armoured bear is constant: fierce, loyal, and unable to be deceived.

And then, my friends, really is all I have to say about the story itself! Note that The Golden Compass is the North American name; in the UK, this novel is called Northern Lights.

Lastly, with the advent of the movie, there has been some modest controversy regarding an alleged anti-Christian perspective in His Dark Materials. I'm afraid that will be a post for another day - another day soon, I hope!.

The Time Machine

Recommended: The Time Machine (H. G. Wells)

H. G. Wells was one of the founding titans of science-fiction, a novelist whose works have inspired, directly and indirectly, a large portion of the works that have followed. Like the best - or perhaps just the luckiest - science-fiction authors, Mr. Wells was ahead of contemporary science; the Time Traveller's explanations of the mechanism of travel spookily remind one of Einstein's theory of special relativity.

The Time Machine is a very short, simple novel. It does not contain the detailed plot we expect in a modern work, but it is a better novel this way. It invites you to think, and not merely to experience. I feel myself as a member of the dinner party when the Time Traveller tells his story. Can I trust him? Do I believe what he says? Is that indeed what the future holds in store? If it is, is it good, or inevitable? Even the Time Traveller's explanations invite disagreement and provide food for thought.

Most futuristic science-fiction is not written as a prediction of the future. The author will take some concept, toy with it, and say, "What if..." (Ursula K. Le Guin comes to mind as an obvious example.) Mr. Wells tries to predict the future, but asks the reader to make his own predictions as well. You'll likely disagree with Mr. Wells ideas, who was after all writing at the close of the Victorian era, but I hope you'll enjoy your chance to argue through his case.

Mr. Wells is best known for The Time Machine, The Invisible Man, and The War of the Worlds. All three are excellent books, and certainly the latter two will garner their own recommendations here in due time. The Island of Dr. Moreau is also very good, but alas not as well known. His other works I leave to interested fans to ferret out for themselves (The Food of the Gods is one of my favorites of his, but you might find Rule Number One to apply).

So you want to be a wizard?

Recommended: So You Want to Be a Wizard? (Diane Duane)

I'd been meaning to re-read this one for a long time; part of my blogging quietness has been due to my catching up on this book, and its seven (!) sequels. (One thing I like about young adult fiction: it's short. I'm really tired of 800 page fantasy novel tomes. No, I'm not looking at you, Ms. Rowling. But if the shoe fits...)

Mrs. Troll of course made fun of me as I was working through the Young Wizard series. "Secretly you want to be a wizard, don't you," she laughs. Ahem. I think that would be true of anyone who enjoyed fantasy literature at a young age.

And in the end, I cannot deny that the title alone sells me on this book. But So You Want to Be a Wizard is certainly very fun. Nita and Kit are slightly geeky, young teenagers who get picked on by the other kids. Naturally they each stumble across a book titled.... well, you know the title.

The two become fast friends, but both are devoted to the higher calling of wizardry: to take the fight to the Lone Power whenever and wherever possible. I love that the real "hook" in the plot is Nina's stubborn desire to get her favourite pen back. But getting her pen back means making friends with an errant white hole (one of the weirder characters in the series!), and surviving an alternate, malevolent Manhattan filled with packs of bloodthirsty cabs and murderous elevators.

The book is fun, kind of crazy (is it fantasy? Is it science-fiction? Who can tell?), good young adult literature. It deals with the difficulties of the early teenage years (how important a pen could seem to the youth!), but doesn't venture too far into the serious. So You Want to Be a Wizard is followed by a string of other books: (currently) Deep Wizardry, High Wizardry, A Wizard Abroad, The Wizard's Dilemma, A Wizard Alone, Wizard's Holiday, and Wizards at War.

Phew. Some are better than others (Rule Number One: no author is ceaselessly brilliant.), but frankly I found the last novel to be worth the wait. If you enjoy So You Want to Be a Wizard, I think you'll enjoy the rest, too.

Ms. Duane has written quite a few novels. In addition to the Young Wizards series, there are a few parallel novels regarding the feline wizards (I would predict these are not for me), the Middle Kingdoms sequence (about which I know nothing), a slew of StarTrek novels, and StarDrive novels (science-fiction of some sort? can anyone enlighten me here?).

So You Want to Be a Wizard is a light read - fun and charming. I'm sure you'll find it very memorable.

The Giving Plague

recommended: "The Giving Plague" (David Brin)

Forry is a pathology researcher, and he hates the ALAS virus. In The Giving Plague, he tells us the story of ALAS, its discovery, and its impact.

The beginning of the story was jarring for me. An angry Forry narrating to a virus was a little strange. And Forry was so angry that I didn't like him, especially when he demonstrated that he was also cynical and selfish. However, then fellow researcher Leslie Adgeson appeared and hooked me. In contrast to Forry, he's generous and insightful, and the more Forry talks about him, the better the story becomes. In fact, as the story progressed, the contrast and personality clashes between these two characters added a compelling flavor, and because of Leslie, Forry became a more likable character to me.

As for ideas, an integral ingredient to every science fiction work, this story bleeds them. And they weren't just small ideas, either. It asked questions that left me thinking, and I will probably never again see diseases in quite the same way. This is the primary reason I'm recommending the story. If a story can expand my mind like this, then it's a worthy read.

As with other Brin fiction I've read, it is strong on the science. However, Brin is very good at describing scientific ideas and theories in an accessible way, and does not rely on flashy or obscure terms. While some hard sci-fi can bore or annoy me with excessive technical jargon, Brin has yet to do it, and that's great!

An added bonus is that the story is free, and you can get it online. I found it linked from the Biology in Science Fiction blog, in particular, this article. It's also a quick read, which is nice when you're staring at your computer screen.

Get The Giving Plague over at www.davidbrin.com.

The Green Hills of Earth

Recommended: "The Green Hills of Earth" (Robert Heinlein)

Robert Heinlein wrote some pretty weird science-fiction novels. Classic Heinlein novels are long, bizarre, and seem to revolve around sex. And free love. The protoganist (almost always male) suggests a certain auto-biographical flavor... So was Mr. Heinlein a randy old goat, or are these stories just his sexual fantasies?

(Let me emphasize that was a rhetorical question, in case any commenters know more about his personal life than I want to know!)

All this to say that Mr. Heinlein was, I think, a strange man, and he wrote strange books. At times, however, his work is inspired. Stranger in a Strange Land is great (although, there's not as much sex in this one). The Number of the Beast is very fun (it's fan-fic; fans of Edgar Rice Burroughs or Frank Baum should enjoy the palpable love Mr. Heinlein has for Barsoom and Oz.).

But his early work swings to other end of the spectrum. A collection of short stories (also titled The Green Hills of Earth) displays the usual outrageous patriarchal world-view fantasies of '50s television. The stories were written earlier in his career, during the late 40s and early 50s. Perhaps he wasn't a committed swinger yet, or perhaps he needed to sell stories that publishers would actually pay for.

These are very simple stories. Sappy Man-Stories. Women characters, although always treated with respect, fade into the background. I can make up a plausible plot in five minutes: "Hey Pops, can you teach me to fly the rocket?" "Not until you raise your grades in algebra, Junior." "Aww, Pops!" So of course Junior takes the rocket out for a spin anyways, Junior's little sister sneaks on board, danger ensues, but in the end Pops rubs Junior's crew cut with fatherly pride.

I made that plot up, but it sounds just like one of Mr. Heinlein's stories. Seriously. These stories *are* that bad. And this guy won the Hugo Award? Five times?

But who said stories had to be good to be recommended? I think these are fun stories. "The Green Hills of Earth" is as manly, simplistic, and sappy as any of the others. The story tells the history of an old blind spaceman named Rhysling, who cadges his way around the solar system, lugging his accordion and yowling out doggerel:

We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth
Let us rest our eyes on fleecy skies
And the cool, green hills of Earth.

Think for a moment what your life would be like, if you spent the next several decades working in asteroid belts and on strange moons. Do you remember what it's like to be away from home for weeks... months, years? Have you felt the quiet pull of familiar lands, of the home whose memory still floast through your dreams?

The homesickness pours through this story--it's a story of love, loss, and yearning for home. And that is what makes it beautiful.

That rare gift, to make the pages of a story sing out with emotion, that gift is Mr. Heinlein's.

The Green Hills of Earth is back in print. Hunt through your local bookshops, or try your library. Yes, you can get it cheaply from amazon.com, but even so, it's not a book you'll read more than once.

More sex Heinlein!

• The Hugo Winners: Double Star, Farmer in the Sky, Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land, and The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.


• It's almost like it's a Heinlein-festival! Mindy at ProperNoun agrees with me. Also, visit Biology in Science Fiction for some more about sex and Heinlein.


• I like Mr. Heinlein's science-fiction. The science isn't emphasized (people and relationships are first and foremost), but he does throw in little sciencey-details now and again. Hooray, science!


• There's something very interesting about female characters in his work, even if they rarely emerge from the background. Always--always--the female characters are capable, independent, and strong. They do frequently assume stereotypical gender roles (as do the men), but that is not an hindrance to independence. For example, in "Space Jockey", Phyllis must nervously wait at home, twisting her hands on her apron (yes, an outrageous housewife stereotype), while Jack earns the bread flying dangerous rockets and rarely coming home (a manful gender role). Yet Phyllis begins to contemplate divorce because she's not willing to ignore her emotional needs. It's a very small point in the story (Phyllis herself isn't a major character), but you can see little details like these crop up even in early Heinlein. Good for him.

Use of Genius, Use of Weapons

Recommended: Use of Weapons (Iain M. Banks)

Cheradenine Zakalwe's troubled past has transformed him into a military genius, a genius the Culture needs to influence conflicts on worlds that are not yet enlightened enough to have joined its ranks.

The Culture is a utopian society, a collection of worlds that are ruled over by advanced artificial intelligences, and inhabited by lesser AIs, humans, and various alien races. Banks features the Culture in a number of his books, but their part in this one is minor.

Diziet Sma is Zakalwe's Culture contact, and she directs him on his assignments. She is a ranking officer in the Culture's "Special Circumstances" division (think black ops), and her relationship with Zakalwe drives the main plot forward.

Skaffen-Amtiskaw is Sma's robot assistant, and the robot provides humor and compassion to the story. This atypical computer behavior is typical of Banks' AIs and makes them some of his most enjoyable characters.

The main plot of Use of Weapons entertains with action and plot twists, and the descriptions grip you and push you around Banks' universe. However, despite the quality of these aspects, they are forgettable compared to the character of Zakalwe. Zakalwe is the heart of this book, and he is the reason to read it. He is obviously troubled, from the very first chapter of the book. Throughout the rest of the book, we look deeper into his past, and through his past to his soul. We discover why he is a military genius, the costs that came with his gift, and the price he has paid for how he has used his gift.

Mister Troll has pointed out to me in the past that I have a tendency to cherish the misfits and the screw-ups in stories. It's true, but there's more to it than that. I like to empathize with characters, I like my heart to go out to them. So, it's not just the screw-ups and the misfits I love, but the flawed heroes, and the tragic heroes. And it's not just that they have these qualities, but that the author has put enough soul into them to make them worth cherishing.

Cheradenine Zakalwe is that kind of character.