Babel 17

Babel 17 by Samuel R Delaney intrigued me in a different way than any of the other readings thus far. I think that, more than the style or the plot, the general subject matter caught my attention. I enjoy novels, stories, and other works of writing that delve into the inner workings of humans, whether that be on an individual, group, or universal level. Babel 17 does this in its exploration of language and manipulation. Although I wasn’t able to get through the entire book, what I did read gave me a good sense of the confusion and alteration that the characters experienced while conversing in such particular ways.

I also appreciated the attention to detail that Rydra Wong demonstrates throughout the plot. In particular, her observations of very specific muscle movements in relation to a person’s internal activity were fascinating. It highlights the advanced capability that humans have when we apply our energy accordingly. Much like how we admire a magician who performs seemingly impossible tasks, we can admire Rydra in recognizing her power does not lie in magic or fantasy, but within well practiced focus.

This leads to a thought I have concerning fantasy, science fiction, and horror genres in general. It seems that connections to “reality”—whether they be subtle or grand—enable us to connect with the story on a more personal level. For example, it is more difficult for us to feel fear of a story of a monster that exists exclusively in the arctic than the tale of a neighborhood ghoul that licks bedroom windows at night when you’re not looking. Babel 17 incorporates this technique by including emphasis on brainpower and logic within a fantastical environment. Although we recognize that our own lives are very different from those in this story, we can recognize their use of reason and will.

The Stars My Destination

For this week I read The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester. I found the premise to be interesting but also reminiscent of some space-centered scifi stories that have popped into our culture before. I think that this story touches on the attraction of space as a venue for society and sustainable culture as well as its driving force in the science fiction genre. Many of these “wishes” that we as readers feel concerning our own lives surface in The Stars My Destination.

One notable characteristic is the ability to “jaunt” from place to place. This skill is essentially immediately transporting from one place to the other within given limits of the story. In this particular plot, characters can only jaunt on each planet (not from/in/to outer space) and only to places that they have been to. It seems that much of the science fiction genre addresses what life would be like if we had mystic abilities, highly advanced technology, etc. In particular, many stories explore the possibilities of an idea (in this case, jaunting as well as cyber enhancement of the body) then depict its downfall. It is a classic future metropolis gone wrong scenario, and alludes to the culture-shifting issues that could arise from advancements in human capability, intergalactic travel, or robotic technology.

These explorations serve as an attraction to the science fiction genre. Writing or reading such stories allows us to imagine “what if,” and experience these possibilities in some way. As I discussed in my previous blog post, tales such as The Stars My Destination provide a venue in which we can explore the possibilities of a life beyond the limitations of our own, and provides tremendous value in relation to the interest of the plot. 

Being John Malkovich

For this weeks theme of focus—Mythic Fiction and Contemporary Urban Fantasy—I watched Being John Malkovich directed by Spike Jonz. What ultimately struck me the most was the strangeness of the plot and they ways in which it is “resolved.” The man and two women that become most involved in John Malkovich’s life in relation to the mysterious portal that allowed characters to “be” him and witness his life in real time as if they were in his body fluctuate dramatically throughout the plot.

The idea of a portal into someone else’s life seems to be a solution to the desire that most people have at some point in their life to switch with another person and become someone else completely. It is interesting that the situation in Being John Malkovich is temporary, and provides an alternative experience while retaining the individuals true body and identity. However, this distinction becomes muddled as we witness the plot of lesbian lovers to live vicariously through Malkovich in order to satisfy their attraction, as well as the wife’s transgender feelings, simultaneously.  The husband of one of the women complicates thigns further in his rash actions of jealousy that his wife is the one who “caught” the woman that he was initially attracted to.

The complications of this plot and the overarching themes of the movie reflect a critical aspect of what fuels scifi, fantasy, and horror: each genre displays different approaches to empathetically experiencing a different life (even if it is momentary). This difference can derive from varying emotional states (getting some kind of rush/satisfaction/engagement from being frightened), or heightened imagination (placing yourself in the lives of wizards, fantasy worlds, an environment with completely different rules. I suspect that this quality of scifi, fantasy, and horror serves as an escape from real life for some, and a pleasant break for others. Regardless of motivation, Being John Malkovich  is a suitable demonstration of these genre’s ability to transcend our personal lives.

Night Circus

Erin Morgenstern’s Night Circus was probably my favorite read of the semester thus far. As I mentioned in class, what attracted me the most to this novel was its vivid descriptions. Although Morgenstern’s youth as an author is apparent in some of her writing, I don’t find it to discredit the novel at all. I personally find novels that are able to paint vivid sensory experiences in my mind are the ones that create a lasting impact, which is exactly why, even though I wasn’t able to finish the whole book in one week, I plan to make the time to finish it.

What made the imagery so memorable was Morgenstern’s ability to take recognizable events, characters, and situations and twist them slightly to create a new environment. The most obvious example is the circus itself. Many of us (hopefully) recall how big of a deal going to the circus was as a kid and have distinct associations with that experience: popcorn, animals, interesting characters, big tents, bright colors, and some sense of mystery. In night circus, Morgenstern changes the rules. The circus only opens at night, the tent is black and white, and the layout is much more complex than that of a regular circus. I found myself wanting to go to the night circus much more than I would want to attend a regular circus, which signifies a job well done on the author’s part.

On a more personal note, I think that imagery is so important to me as a reader because of my creative background. I find that I am (like so many others at this school especially) a “visual person,” and respond most readily to things that I can either physically see or clearly imagine. With all of the novels that I have enjoyed the most over the course of my life, I develop a clear sense of what I envision the setting to be, the direction that objects are oriented, and the mannerisms of the characters. Night Circus got me to start creating a mental map of its contents, and I became an active reader, which is the reading experience I enjoy the most.

The Hobbit

In the entirety of my education having anything to do with literature, the hero’s journey has always been stressed as crucially important to storytelling. J.R.R. Tolkien’s work is an exemplary example of this kind of story, and, especially in light of the recent movies and surrounding culture, has been incredibly successful in creating an impact on several generations. I think that The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings demonstrates the heroic journey in a thoughtful and resonating way.

I think that the success of the hero’s journey lies in the fact that audiences identify with the feelings and experiences involved in moving through the general “call to adventure, experience unexpected things, figure everything out” cycle that nearly all stories follow in some way. Tolkien is able to capitalize on the identifiable elements of The Hobbit by developing the specifics of the journey in a way that easily resonates with the human experience.

Essentially, Tolkien is able to replicate human interactions, emotions, and other complexities that represent those that arise throughout our own lives. The hero’s journey touches base with a broad range of human emotion and feeling, which means that we are stimulated on a greater level overall, which surely has some kind of effect on our interaction with the story. Tolkien is one example of an author that has succeeded tremendously in finding a harmonious blend of the elements involved with the hero’s journey on a human level to a legendary level.

I think that for many of my generation, Harry Potter serves as the modern equivalent to a story that embraces the hero’s journey as a tool to capture audience attention, and imply profound experiences that help to define how we as humans operate. I mean, I love Harry Potter. It defined part of my youth. That's pretty powerful.

Kwaidan

For this week’s reading I looked at a selection of stories from Kwaidan. I found the text to be really engaging for a number of reasons. As a general statement, I will say that the cultural differences between the Japanese ghost stories and traditional western horror was very apparent, and added greatly to my interest in each story.

The general feeling of the Kwaidan tales is eerie and much more subtly creepy than the direct approach that western storytelling often takes. We are faced not with crazy serial killers, straightforward ghosts, or shunned monsters, but complex characters that are, in the most simple of terms, unusual. For example, characters in each story may face someone with no face, spirits of the dead, or other part-creature-part-human-part-spirit entities that are mysterious in their actions and existence.

An interesting aspect of the characters in Japanese ghost stories is the ambiguity between good and evil. While Western culture most often explicitly defines the plot’s events and characters as “good” or “bad,” the distinction is much less clear in the Kwaidan. For example, in the story where a man encounters two characters with no faces, they don’t cause him harm, they aren’t acting out in any way, they are just unusual, and understandably startling. I think that this approach makes the stories much more interesting as opposed to having a clear good vs. bad set up.

Finally, I find the Japanese interaction with death fascinating. In Western culture there are disconnects from, or even denial of ghosts, spirits, the presence of dead ancestors, etc. However in the Kwaidan stories these kinds of beings are integrated closely with daily life. Because of this, many of the Japanese ghost stories seem to be more relatable. In other words, when spirits are encountered while doing everyday activities, it is much easier to make a creepy situation instead of presenting a more elaborate environment. It is the difference between “Saw” – where a crazy man decides to teach people lessons about life by means of torture – and encountering a spirit in the presence of your own home, on the street, etc. The acknowledgement of non-human beings in Japanese culture allows for greater depth and mystery in the interactions between the dead and the living, which lends to ideal conditions for effective horror story telling.