’70s-style dystopia: This Perfect Day by Ira Levin

This Perfect Day is a dystopian sci-fi novel, published in 1970, in the vein of Brave New World and Logan’s Run. People are born into a happy (read: bland) unified society, ruled by UniComp, which is literally a giant computer. Over the generations heterogeneity has been genetically blended out, and every member of ‘The Family’ receives treatments to keep them ‘well’. Of course, there are aberrations. Chip, for example, was born with two different coloured eyes. In his formative years his ‘strange-acting’ grandfather and an artistic friend each have a lasting impact on him. Chip is slowly awakened to a world where one can smoke, learn French, and have orgasms more than once a week!

Aspects have dated, of course, but I never knew what was coming next. The plot is clever and action packed. I don’t know why it isn’t as well known as some of the other dystopias—perhaps because it was never filmed? Some of Ira Levin’s other works have become classic films: The Stepford Wives and Rosemary’s Baby.

It’s fun to read a retro futuristic novel and compare its speculations to the present. The aspect of ubiquitous computing—data everywhere—is prescient, but the fact the members have to scan themselves to get in and out of buildings, onto planes etc. wouldn’t work today. Their bracelets would, in a contemporary story, probably be implants, and the scanning would happen automatically (so, much of the plot would fall apart).

I did find the concept of one’s time as controlled and delegated to ‘useful’ pursuits relative to the present. At least, personally, this conversation between Karl and Chip, about Karl’s art, struck me:

‘I’d better get back to the group I’m with’ [Chip] said. ‘Those are top speed. It’s a shame you weren’t classified as an artist.’

Karl looked at him. ‘I wasn’t, though,’ he said, ‘so I only draw on Sundays and holidays and during the free hour. I never let it interfere with my work or whatever else I’m supposed to be doing.’

Anyone else explain their time like that?

One of my supervisors recommended this book to me, because my almost-finished-novel is set in the near future, and there are some similarities. But I think Brave New World may be closer, and I think (hope) there are some completely original aspects about my work (while I do deliberately play on the reader’s intertextual knowledge at some points). The main point is that in my work people do have choices, many choices, but they have been socialised by the media, dominant ideas etc. to watch over themselves. And they choose to, also, due to the anxiety of having so many choices. They need to feel in control. Contradiction is encapsulated by the mantra of ‘balance’. They are not forcefully drugged or anything, but they are socially pressured to ensure their ‘wellbeing’ and ‘functionality’ are intact. My society is not about uniformity, it is about controlled heterogeneity. It is not about efficiency in general—utopianism—but about efficient and controlled market growth. But my work is being written in the era of neo-liberal capitalist consumerism, not during the cold war, like this one…

If you’re a fan of dystopias, particularly kitschy ones (the sexy aspects are awesome) you’ll tear through this. And like any good sci-fi, it will still stir up political questions. Is it better to be happy or free, especially if ‘freedom’ is dirty and dangerous? What if you got to ‘reprogram’ the society so people lived longer and felt more, could you then be content with it? Isn’t it better than the uncivilised chaos that would otherwise descend?

You probably already know the answers, but Ira Levin definitely takes you to some intruiging, challenging places.

Choosing to fly: When We Have Wings by Claire Corbett

Allen & Unwin, 2011
9781742375564 
(buy Aus paperback, ebook, US/Kindle

The main theme, and dilemma, for the two main characters in When We Have Wings is an old one: how do we deal with technological progress, the divides it can create (between classes, between generations), and the power it may provide to a privileged few? More specifically, how does someone raising a child in a rapidly changing environment make decisions about their future?

But the main reasons you should read this novel are:

1. people can fly
2. one of the main characters is a private detective
3. there is a miniature lion

Did I mention that people can fly? Yeah. Wow.

Peri was abandoned as a child and grew up poor in the regions outside the city. When we meet her in the novel, she’s been given her wings, and she works as a nanny to baby Hugo, for a wealthy, influential couple. Her employer, the architect Peter Chesshyre, is the creator of exclusive buildings for fliers, and is a little too in love with his own power. The wings are due to advances in science—genetic engineering—as are much of the spectacular materials for building and fashions. Even pets are hugely altered (if one has the money). It’s natural for people to choose their baby’s eye and hair colour. This is already something that doesn’t seem far away, so When We Have Wings asks: how far would we go?

The other main character—our private dick Zeke Fowler—has to let his ex-wife know whether or not their three-year-old son will go ahead with the treatments to become a flier. Of course, he wants his son to have every opportunity to go forward, and be happy, in the world, but what he’s learning about fliers on his current case isn’t very attractive. His case is to look for Peri, who has taken off with baby Hugo.

The story is addictive: there are adventures (with flying), mysteries, and intense encounters. The book is large and so there’s plenty of time to get to know both Peri and Zeke; their histories, their passions, their weaknesses. Corbett creates a great deal of sympathy for her main characters by giving them both ‘tough-but-caring’ natures. Peri is very protective of Hugo; Zeke is genuinely concerned about Peri. There are also some lovely moments between Zeke and the aforementioned tiny lion.

Corbett has built an imaginative, complex world: a city where permanent residency is like a Wonka golden ticket, plus edge cities, swampy outlands with nasty diseases, and a burgeoning world in the sky. The weather is tropical, the population is multicultural. Technological and genetic advances are for the haves. The have-nots may be left behind, but there are groups working (as there would be) to try to make sure there will be more choice, and clearer ethical guidelines.

Corbett, in creating this world and her characters, has also engaged with theology and mythology, with nature, and with history. When We Have Wings is hence densely layered. It’s smart and political, raising the kind of questions the best science fiction should raise (about ethics, about progress, about how future generations will make meaning), but it’s also just damn entertaining. The characters are well-rounded, the story is genuinely exciting, and best of all, Corbett does not pander to her readers. She does not tie everything into a neat little bow. The future is possibly bleak and strange, it may also be exhilarating. Either way, we will have to deal with many of the same issues we deal with now.

This post will be added to my tally in the Australian Women Writers Reading + Reviewing Challenge.

Short story ‘Ariel’ published in Seizure

Seizure is a fresh literary journal coming out of Sydney. Each issue imitates the style of a different type of magazine. The first issue looked like a glossy food magazine and all its pieces were linked to the subject. The second issue is ‘Sci-fi’, and it looks like a pulpy science fiction mag. I have a story in the issue, called ‘Ariel’. It’s a pretty traditional narrative about an AI being relied upon to come up with the answer that will save us all. But the story has a bit of a homoerotic twist.

Like a lot of the fiction I have found myself writing in the past couple of years, the story combines a bit of ‘speculation’ with aspects of the everyday. I like to write about desire, sensation and emotions in extreme environments or contexts. In the end, I guess I am asking pretty ancient questions about the effects (and ethics) of ‘progress’. But mainly, I want to write stories that will make you think and feel something.

Other contributors to the Seizure sci-fi issue include PM Newton, Kate Forsyth, Ben Jenkins, Pip Smith and Dinosaur Comics.

I attended the launch of the issue last weekend in Sydney. It was held at the end of the Speculative Fiction Festival at the NSW Writers’ Centre, so there was a good crowd. I enjoyed the festival, hearing writers talk about works in a range of genres that come under the spec fic umbrella (ie. SF, fantasy, supernatural, steampunk, horror). Basically, spec fic covers works that explore ‘what could be’ outside ordinary, rational reality. I’ve always liked fiction that has an element of strangeness, the odd or the slightly off. But I do also like straight realism, too. The great thing about the festival was getting to hear authors who are often sidelined at bigger festivals, or who get stuck at those festivals debating genre vs lit fic (yawn).

Sci-fi rations

But the launch… The Seizure team had bright blue Andorian Ale waiting for us. I mingled and drank under the Jacaranda trees on the gorgeous Writers’ Centre property. Then we received our ‘sci-fi rations’: a protein pill, Soylent Green, Soma-pop and Phlogiston. Yum and fun.

One of the best parts of the day and evening was meeting and catching up with a lot of Sydney peeps and tweeps. You know who you are. Thanks for the great chats.

I hope you will all check out and enjoy Seizure. It’s available in print and as an iPad app. There’s a bit of a sample on the website, too.

Some of my short stories available as ebooks

I decided to extend the life of some of my short stories that have been published in journals/magazines over the last few years, by publishing them digitally. It’s a bit of a (fairly safe) experiment in self-publishing and the world of ebooks. I’m loving reading on my Kobo eReader, and I’ve made these stories available in a large number of formats by publishing them through Smashwords and Amazon’s Kindle. You can read them on your computer, ereader, iPhone, iPad – pretty much any device – all you have to do is choose the right format. The most exciting thing about this project was getting some incredibly talented friends – artists and designers – to create some amazing covers for me. Aren’t they gorgeous?

I hope you enjoy reading the stories. I made them as cheap as Smashwords and Amazon would let me, without making them free (99c each). I’m going to put a permanent page in the sidebar of the blog here soon, linking my available (digital) stories, so that they’re easy to find. I would also be so grateful to you if you left a review of one or more of the stories, as it will help them be seen by more people.

The stories (which you can also find via my Smashwords and Amazon author pages) are:

You Will Notice That Hallways Are Painted

Ava is locked up in an institution. Her sentence is ‘overt overabundance’. Her new roommate Monty is ‘highly inadequate’. Ava is fond of everyone, but there’s something explosive about the bug-loving, show-tune-singing (and taken) Monty.

They’re not really crazy but they aren’t ‘functional’ members of society either: they drink, feel, touch and love too much. Is it possible to hold onto yourself, and still get out of the institution?

Originally published in Torpedo Greatest Hits (Hunter Publishers, 2010) edited by Chris Flynn.

Cover artwork and design by Kenneth Erickson.

NB. the novel manuscript I’m working on came out of this story.

For epub (ie. Stanza reader), PDF, online HTML reading, LRF (for Sony), RTF and more, click here. For Kindle and Kindle app, check it out on Amazon US, UK and Germany. (In Aus, go to Amazon US.)

Obsolescence

In the rainy city of Bergen, Norway, a tattooed, troll-like figure quietly disposes of ‘the guilty’. But Knut’s instinct-driven mission is becoming more and more complex…

Originally published in The Lifted Brow 6: Atlas, edited by Ronnie Scott.

Cover: artwork by Cecile Raposo-Knight, design by Sonja Meyer.

For epub (ie. Stanza reader), PDF, online HTML reading, LRF (for Sony), RTF and more, click here. For Kindle and Kindle app, check it out on Amazon US, UK and Germany. (In Aus, go to Amazon US.)

Birds

‘It’s just a job. It’s just a day. Everyone does it. People are worse off somewhere. There is nothing wrong. The walls are not closing in. You are fine.’

A near-future story about anxiety.

Originally published in Wet Ink: Issue 14 (2009).

Cover: artwork by Lily Mae Martin, type by Kenneth Erickson.

For epub (ie. Stanza reader), PDF, online HTML reading, LRF (for Sony), RTF and more, click here. For Kindle and Kindle app, check it out on Amazon US, UK and Germany. (In Aus, go to Amazon US.)

Guest review: Lyndon Riggall on Embassytown by China Miéville

9780230754317
Pan Macmillan, May 2011
(Aus, UK, US/Kindle)

Reviewed by Lyndon Riggall

I admit defeat. I’ve been trying to present these events with a structure. I simply don’t know how everything happened. Perhaps because I didn’t pay proper attention, perhaps because it wasn’t a narrative, but for whatever reasons, it doesn’t want to be what I want to make it.

China Miéville has widely become regarded as the genre reader’s messiah. His books have consistently thundered the prize scene, and his name has become synonymous with both the Hugo and the Arthur C Clarke awards.

Embassytown represents his first dive into pure science fiction, and as typical for Miéville, he takes to the new ground like he’s been working in it all his life. Without spoiling too many of the surprises, Embassytown follows Avice Benner Cho, a rare human prized with the gift of being able to travel the ‘Immer’. She ends up in Embassytown, a living city, home to creatures known as ‘Hosts’, who speak ‘Language’, a form of discourse so complicated that specially bred ‘Ambassadors’ must be trained as a duo for the purpose of speaking it – it requires multiple words to be spoken simultaneously. The power of the Ambassadors over the Hosts is intoxicating, and when they abuse that power things spiral quickly out of control. Avice has the power to change things, but she does not have Language, and so she does not have a voice.

The world of Embassytown is impressively crafted. Time, for example, is typically measured in hours regardless of length – megahours and kilohours replace days, months and years. Miéville has invented term after term, many borrowed creatively from different cultures of our own world – to the average reader some pages or sections of the book could be nigh on indecipherable. Reading Embassytown is an immensely challenging experience, chapters and events pop in and out of sequence, and the world is meticulously, but by no means accessibly crafted. The book demands dedication before it spills its secrets.

But beautiful secrets they are. Embassytown is about love, war, life, death, truth and lies. It’s about the struggle for freedom, and the gaps forged by power between the elites and the populous. I don’t think personally that it will go down as one of Miéville’s most popular novels – it’s inaccessibility can be tiring for those unfamiliar with the promise of his reputation. For the hardcore fan however, this may be just the ticket, for while it is difficult to tread new ground in SF, the way Miéville walks will certainly set him apart. It’s a weird, hard, frustrating and detailed novel, but while that may put off many, for those avid fans who have read all of China Miéville’s works, I imagine this will be exactly what they’re after.

Lyndon Riggall is an avid sci-fi, fantasy and horror reader, and an aspiring writer. He collects his thoughts on life and books on his blog and on Twitter. It has been 1600 megahours since his last drink.

See also the LiteraryMinded interview with China Miéville from October, 2010: part one and two.

20 classics in 2011 #6: Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

I’m reading 20 classic, modern-classic or cult books in 2011. Read more about this project here.

Why did I want to read it?

I love Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, and dystopian fiction in general. Plus, the sections of my work-in-progress that people have read have been compared to Brave New World. I thought it was about time I read it (also to make sure I’m not accidentally riffing on it too much).

When was it published?

In 1932. Several years before Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four (1948) and in many ways containing more progressive ideas. Huxley wrote to Orwell in 1949, congratulating him on his book, and predicting:

‘Within the next generation I believe that the world’s leaders will discover that infant conditioning and narco-hypnosis are more efficient, as instruments of government, than clubs and prisons, and that the lust for power can be just as completely satisfied by suggesting people into loving their servitude as by flogging them and kicking them into obedience.’ (via)

My edition was published by Longman, and of course there are many editions (see Aus, US, UK).

What’s it about?

Set in London in the year 2540, children are grown, rather than born, and are conditioned via Pavlovian methods and sleep-learning to be citizens of different castes. The idea is that society will be stable, and that people will be happy. They are essentially free to pursue pleasure through multiple sexual partners, soma (a form of medication/recreation) and ‘feelies’, which are movies with added sensation. The Model T Ford and Sigmund Freud are the fathers of this society. Ford is their God.

Bernard is a bit of an outsider both physically and mentally. He thinks his fellow Alphas are ‘morons’, and he fights internally against his own conditioning. He is able to see that happiness is a construct, and is therefore, of course, not happy. He sees the value in delaying gratification, and in being alone (both blasphemous in this society).

Bernard takes a woman he likes, Lenina, to a Savage Reservation, where they meet a woman from their World who had been lost there, and her son, who has learnt English through Shakespeare and who is curious about this place he’s heard so much about. The second half of the novel then deals with ‘the Savage’ and his encounter with civilisation.

Tell us more about the author.

Aldous Huxley was born into an educated family in Surrey, UK in 1894. He was educated at Eton college and was disqualified from service in the WWI due to an illness that left him mostly blind for two to three years. He would struggle with eyesight problems all his life. He studied English literature at Oxford and graduated with first class honours.

Huxley began writing seriously in his 20s. His first published novel was Chrome Yellow in 1921. Brave New World is probably his most famous novel. He moved to Hollywood in 1937 and became interested in Vedanta (and introduced Christopher Isherwood into the circle of Hindu Swami Prabhavananda). He earned a bit of money as a screenwriter, but his synopsis of Alice in Wonderland was rejected by Walt Disney ‘on the grounds that “he could only understand every third word”. (via) Huxley was at the time beginning to experiment with psychedelic drugs as an experiment in the search for enlightenment. I’d like to read that synopsis…

Huxley famously requested and took LSD on his deathbed in 1963. He was 69.

So, what did I think? Does it deserve to be a classic?

‘What fun it would be if one didn’t have to think about happiness!’ – World Controller Mustapha Mond

For a book that was apparently completed in just four months, Brave New World is almost shockingly prescient, dealing with issues of consumption, conformity and complacency. The idea that citizens will be conditioned to be able to fulfil themselves through the means available in order to create stability (as opposed to through threat or punishment) is even more relevant today. Other aspects are dated, of course, such as the psychoanalytic overtones, and the hypnopaedic ways of learning. But then again, some people do still buy into ‘subliminal learning’!

The retro-future aspects are still enjoyable, aesthetically, such as the fact there are lift operators, and helicopters are the advanced mode of transport. It’s like seeing the DOS computer systems in Blade Runner. You can’t read a futuristic novel written in the past and not think about what has and hasn’t come to pass, and what might by the date in which it’s set. There is still an environment in 2540, for example, where as any futuristic novel written today would surely grapple with the issue of climate change.

Bernard is a great character, both inside and outside his society – conditioned by it, like everyone else, but also fighting against it. He has a weak personality, and a large ego, and is easily buoyed by popularity and praise in the rare instances it is bestowed upon him. I think readers of the novel over time would have related to his character, particularly in the earlier chapters, when everyone else is loosening up and having a good time and he feels something is a little off. He is painfully aware of himself and the way he’s feeling. He is interested in ideas of the benefits of feeling pain and of delaying gratification – ideas I’m fascinated by in this era of rampant consumerism. Natural human desires have always been ever-renewing, but what happens to us when they can be fulfilled easier and easier? Huxley deals with the way dissatisfaction or boredom might set in with soma, where citizens can take a little drug-holiday. Soma reminds me of both valium and ecstasy. It calms, and it also creates heightened sensation. Bernard is too aware of its effects (but he still uses it). The Savage refuses to use it.

I enjoyed the ideas, too, about the way we are constructed through language – about how powerful language is. In the brave new world, all ‘old’ texts have disappeared, because they are unnecessary and will interfere with the conditioned ideas. A language of worship to a commercial god has replaced them. But the Savage, too, is constructed by words. His ideas about the world come from Shakespeare. He cannot reconcile himself with the (normatised) promiscuity of the world, and repeats phrases like ‘impudent strumpet!’ from Othello. He thinks and speaks in Shakespearian, and so becomes subversive to both his Savage society who do not read in English, and to his mother and civilisation, who are conditioned to think in specific oppositional ways. There is an Oedipal undertone, too, where he tries to kill the man in bed with his mother. His love and disgust for her is then transferred into his love and disgust for Lenina. He does not wish to ‘defile’ her, thought she literally throws herself at him. Conditioned to be sexually open, she doesn’t understand his response at all. The Savage is a tragic character. The greater message, here, I think, is that none of us escape some kind of ‘conditioning’ through language, during our socialisation process.

I was quite disturbed by the Savage’s repulsion of Lenina, though it is justified in the story. I was worried about a parallel message of nostalgia for female chastity and virginity. I suppose Huxley could have wanted to explore these thoughts (as he’s exploring the dangers of excess in general), and that’s also why Linda, the Savage’s mother, is rendered so repulsively (not just to the civilised, but to the reader). Lenina is a character who, if the novel were written now, I believe could have been developed further. Her tiny awakenings were due to the male characters she encountered and her desire for them. She could be more active, now.

I underlined and dog-eared much in Brave New World and I think it’s a novel that will continue to make people think, and definitely to entertain. I forgot to mention that it’s funny – particularly in relation to Bernard. The style is a little all-over-the-place, but it works. It’s a brilliant piece of art.

‘What you need,’ the Savage went on, ‘is something with tears for a change. Nothing costs enough here.’

What’s next?

I’m currently reading The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch. It’s a big’un so be patient with me.

Have you read Brave New World? What are your thoughts? I have to say that the mood of Nineteen Eighty-Four is quite different. I remember it well: a certain weightiness. Is there a dystopian vision you prefer?

Eric Garcia's The Repossession Mambo

repossession_mambo9781921372810
Scribe 2009 (Australia)
(and Harper US)

In the near future, artificial organs (artiforgs) can be bought to save a person’s life – or simply enhance life’s quality. From kidneys to central nervous systems, the expensive artiforgs can be bought on credit, and if you miss too many payments, they can be repossessed.

When we meet Remy, he is a former repo man hiding in a burned-out hotel, as the payments on his own artiforg are overdue. He’s not just ex-repo, he’s ex-Marine and an ex-lover of five wives – and throughout this tight, pacy narrative, we learn all about his life and how he got to be in the mess he’s in.

The character is a tough guy, coming to terms with past and present, and The Repossession Mambo is absorbing and fun, like an 80s Bruce Willis action movie, as opposed to a stylised thriller. At first I was a little put off by the lack of strong female characters. The author could have included some female repo ‘men’. It seems unrealistic that women would be relegated to stereotypical (sex workers and wives) roles in a near-future society. But things do turn around when Bonnie is introduced, and Remy revisits his relationships and wrongdoings. We see that much of the female-blindness stems from his world view (it’s in first person). Still, at least one female repo-worker would have brought more authenticity to the story.

But you really end up liking the bastard, and rooting for him, despite the fact he bloodily tears the organs from overextended customers. These scenes can be gruesome – but the legality of repossession says a lot about a desensitised future full of self-absorbed beings, deeming themselves worthy of life-extension (often with ‘optional extras’).

The Repossession Mambo is a clever and entertaining piece of genre fiction - escapism with a little future-food for thought.

This book will come out as a film in 2010, called Repo Men (disappointingly, it seems there are no female repo-workers in this version too, just going by the title).