Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Rowling's Cultural Appropriation May be Magical, But It's Not Charming

I have written about the topic of cultural appropriation before, and given that this blog is largely devoting to exploring problematic aspects of speculative fiction, I am particularly interested when conversations about cultural appropriation arise within the context of science fiction or fantasy. The latest example of such controversy appears to be acclaimed Harry Potter writer JK Rowling’s recent essay on her Pottermore website. Being part of the History of Magic in North America series, the piece is titled “The 14th to 17th Century” and concentrates upon the magical community within the indigenous population of North America in distinction from the European magical society her fans are already familiar with.

Before I proceed to detail the developments of this controversy and address the criticisms of Rowling’s writing, I should note that as a straight, white male I don’t consider myself to be any authoritative position to dictate to minorities, certainly not the indigenous inhabitants of the land my country unjustly occupies. If I take issue with something a critic of Rowling has said, it is not because I take issue with their concerns but with their argument only. I don’t believe there is anything inappropriate about defending the sanctity of one’s cultural heritage against perceived exploitation, but there is nothing wrong with mentioning the inadequacy of arguments pertaining to it. My intention is not to “whitesplain” the situation by stating that critics such as NK Jemisin or Dr. Keene are “overreacting” to a subject that is “just fantasy”. For them, this isn’t just fantasy, it is their history and their community and it is being eroded by ignorance. The best way to dispel that ignorance in my opinion is through critical reflection which I hope to provide here.    

My responses are not meant to discredit the concerns of Native Americans or any other people of color, but merely to examine Rowling’s writing from my perspective and offer commentary on the conversation taking place among some of her critics. Just as I believe Rowling was providing an alternative interpretation of Native American history, rather than overwriting it, so too is it my intention to provide an alternative commentary to that of her critics without ignoring the concerns they raise. As a fan of her writing concerned about justice for minorities, I am invested in the world of Harry Potter and reconciling it with the demands of social justice. My interest in presenting an interpretation of Rowling’s writing which leaves space for these two to be reconciled. I believe that Rowling had good intentions, but produced ill effects (which matter more); she may not have taken advantage of Native American people, but she failed to take advantage of her position as a world-famous author to be an ally for them. But in the situation of oppressed peoples, such a distinction is largely ineffectual. 

Rowling’s writing turned towards fan-community controversy when Dr. Adrienne Keene of the blog Native Appropriations wrote a response article addressing History of Magic in North America. In a follow-up article, Keene states that “one of the largest fights in the world of representations is to recognize Native peoples and communities and cultures are diverse, complex, and vastly different from one another. There is no such thing as one “Native American” anything. Even in a fictional wizarding world”. African American fantasy author NKJemisin (a favorite author of mine) echoed this sentiment when she speculated that Rowling “would never have dreamt of reducing all of Europe’s cultures to “European wizarding tradition”; instead she created Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and so on to capture the unique flavor of each of those cultures”. Jemisin continues to say that “It would’ve taken some work for her to research Navajo stories and pick (or request) some elements from that tradition that weren’t stereotypical or sacred — and then for her to do it again with the Paiutes and again with the Iroquois and so on.”

In Jemisin’s opinion, Rowling’s writing would have been much richer “if she’d mentioned the ruins of a “lost” school at Cahokia, full of dangerous magical artifacts and the signs of mysterious, hasty abandonment? Or a New Orleanian school founded by Marie Laveau, that practiced real vodoun and was open/known to the locals as a temple — and in the old days as a safe place to plan slave rebellions, a la Congo Square? Or what if she’d mentioned that ancient Death Eater-ish wizards deliberately destroyed the magical school of Hawai’i — but native Hawai’ians are rebuilding it now as Liliuokalani Institute, better than before and open to all?” This all sounds fantastic and reveals the depth of Jemisin’s creativity against the shallowness Rowling put on display. But I question whether Rowling is fairly obligated to go into such detail within one small piece of writing. The “The 14th to 17th Century” juxtaposes generalizations of European and North American magic against one another to contrast the new sense of Native American magical practice and history against the familiarity of European wizardry.

I am sympathetic to the yearning for more nuanced details as both a fan of fantasy world-building and as an ally concerned about minority representation. It is true and it is unfortunate that Native peoples are often only recognized as a homogenous mass, when they are given recognition at all. It remains uncertain how much Rowling will continue to expand and explore this part of her world. The writing appears to be publicity material for the upcoming film Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find Them and thus it seems unlikely that these writings will be significantly expanded (at least not until after the film’s release, lest it spoil the material), nor does it appear that they were ever intended to provide a critical and comprehensive history of magic in North America. Rowling can be faulted for doing nothing to dispel the illusion that Native Americans are a homogenous population, even if her intention was to speak about populations in the aggregate. Rowling didn’t have to detail the diversity amongst the indigenous tribes of North America, she simply had to acknowledge that there is such diversity and I think it is a fair assessment of her writing to say that she didn’t even do this. Rowling is not defining Native Americans as a singular community, but that is only because she hardly defines them at all.   
 
In Keene’s assessment, “Indigenous peoples are constantly situated as fantasy creatures” and that there is a “pervasive and problematic narrative wherein Native peoples are always “mystical” and “magical” and “spiritual”–able to talk to animals, conjure spirits, perform magic, heal with “medicine” and destroy with “curses.”” But in Rowling’s magical version of North America, “the overall ratio of wizards to non-wizards seemed consistent across populations, as did the attitudes of No-Majs (non-magic users), wherever they were born. In the Native American community, some witches and wizards were accepted and even lauded within their tribes, gaining reputations for healing as medicine men, or outstanding hunters. However, others were stigmatized for their beliefs, often on the basis that they were possessed by malevolent spirits.” In Rowling’s world, all cultures possess the potential for magic, and Native American tribal communities are no different, nor are they stereotypically exceptionally gifted with magical talent. Rowling neither neglects nor mystifies Native Americans. So while Rowling may apply the abilities Keene notes to Native Americans, she does not do this as a stereotype of them, since their capacity for magic is no different than any other population. It cannot be considered a stereotype since it does not discriminate Native Americans as a distinct community in regards to magical talent.

The Native American practice of magic is distinguished from that of European settlers in the latter’s use of the wand: “Wands channel magic so as to make its effects both more precise and more powerful, although it is generally held to be a mark of the very greatest witches and wizards that they have also been able to produce wandless magic of a very high quality. As the Native American Animagi and potion-makers demonstrated, wandless magic can attain great complexity, but Charms and Transfiguration are very difficult without one.” Keene responds by noting that “wands are what basically refines magic. Wands are a European invention, so basically she’s demonstrating Eurocentric superiority here–the introduction of European “technology” helps bring the Native wizards to a new level. AKA colonial narrative 101.” While Rowling did state that the wand was unique to the European magical community, she didn’t suggest that it made wizards within that community superior to those native to America. She merely mentioned that particular forms of magic were difficult without the precision granted by the use of wand. While it appears that Native Americans could benefit from utilizing wands, Rowling does not state that such utilization would progress their civilization in any way. Rowling actually alludes to advantages Native American magicians possessed over Europeans: “The Native American wizarding community was particularly gifted in animal and plant magic, its potions in particular being of a sophistication beyond much that was known in Europe.” Keene is right to be vigilant for ways in which fantasy reflects colonial narratives of superiority, but I don’t recognize such a correspondence in Rowling’s writing here. But that’s not to say she isn’t to be faulted elsewhere in her writing.    

Rowling devotes particular (in)attention to the narrative of skin-walkers (while failing to specify that this legend is not universal among Native American tribes). She states that “the legend of the Native American ‘skin walker’ – an evil witch or wizard that can transform into an animal at will – has its basis in fact. A legend grew up around the Native American Animagi, that they had sacrificed close family members to gain their powers of transformation. In fact, the majority of Animagi assumed animal forms to escape persecution or to hunt for the tribe. Such derogatory rumors often originated with No-Maj medicine men, who were sometimes faking magical powers themselves, and fearful of exposure.” Much can be said of this one paragraph, because it touches not only upon an appropriated aspect of sacred tradition, but it also deals with the perceived reality of such legendary beings and the legitimacy of those who inform their community about them. The precise meaning and implications of this paragraph are ambiguous since it is referring beings (skin-walkers) that not every reader will recognize as existing in our real world to begin with. Without a pre-established familiarity with the subject, the line between fantastical and historical mythology is obscured. Rowling does not claim that the legend of the skin-walkers is itself an authentic Native American legend, but that it is a legend about skin-walkers amongst Native Americans; it is a “legend of the Native American ‘skin-walker’” and not a Native American legend of skin-walkers. Recognizing such ambiguity, one fan tweeted to Rowling for clarification regarding the skin-walkers asking “Were the skin-walkers evil or not? Or were they simple animagus?” Rowling responded by saying that “in my wizarding world, there were no skin-walkers. The legend was created by No-Majes to demonize wizards.” In Rowling’s world, a skin-walker is just a demonized wizard, no different than an ordinary (ordinarily magical) person. Rowling has denied the legitimacy of the legend in our world by equating it with the magic of her world. 

A great deal of the criticism directed at instances of cultural appropriation is focused on how sacred artifacts of a community are reinterpreted against their traditional significance. In and of itself, I do not consider the reinterpretation of appropriated cultural markers to be inherently offensive so long as they are not utilized to perpetuate offensive stereotypes or discredit the community from which there were derived. If I appropriate the Palestinian keffiyeh only to utilize it as part of a “terrorist” costume, this would be wrong since I am only using it to perpetuate a false narrative about Palestinian identity while discrediting the resistance to preserve that identity against occupation. It is no wonder that Native Americans take offense to Rowling writing that the skin-walker legend was spread through fraudulent Native American medicine men. Such a statement goes beyond merely providing an alternative explanation of Native American spirituality. If Rowling was merely offering an alternative explanation of skin-walkers as magical beings in her world, I don’t think she would have received the same extent of criticism, nor would she have deserved it. But instead she presented the legend as a lie perpetuated by Native American spiritual elders themselves. In so doing, she is erasing an authentic aspect of Native American tribal tradition by reducing it to a fantastical farce. Rowling isn’t equating Native American tradition with magic, she is erasing it and replacing it with her own magical fiction. She is inserting her own authority over Native American tradition while feigning authorial responsibility for her reinterpretation by making Native Americans themselves responsible for the difference and problematically makes it due to the lies of their spiritual authorities.

Keene is concerned that “if Indigenous spirituality becomes conflated with fantasy “magic”–how can we expect lawmakers and the public to be allies in the protection of these spaces”. Although JK Rowling is appropriating elements of Native American tradition, she is not divorcing it from its historical context. Some fantasy authors appropriate recognizable elements of real, historical cultures but make them part of a purely fantastical culture in their fictional world, thereby stripping them of their real-world significance. If a sacred symbol becomes synonymous with a fictional culture, it ceases to command respect for the real world cultures that identify with it. Rowling may fail to state that skin-walkers are specific to certain indigenous tribes of America, but she at least maintains that they are a part of Native American spirituality. Unfortunately, Rowling presents this spirituality as a fraud, which isn’t an ideal improvement, even if it’s only in the context of a magical alternative history. Especially when there is no good reason for Rowling to portray Native American spirituality that way when the premise of a magical alternative history allows herself to take it seriously. Rowling could have just as easily considered medicine men as endowed with both magical and spiritual authority and simply accepted the legend of skin-walkers as it is. If Rowling was going to reinterpret a Native American legend by placing it within the context of her magical alternative history, it isn’t clear why she felt the need to explain it by discrediting Native American spiritual leaders. Even though she is referring to them in a fictional context, their role in Native American society and relationship with skin-walkers is not fictional but is a lived experience, and therefore even discrediting them in fantasy fiction, can do real harm to Native American communities, as evidenced by the negative reaction her writing has elicited. 

            But while it may be insensitive and offensive for Rowling to write off medicine men as frauds selling a false spirituality, most readers would nevertheless consider that Native American spirituality is false. Readers may not consider Native American legends to be part of fraudulent conspiracy against their own community, but they probably do believe that such legends are at best inspiring stories, and at worst ignorant delusions. Those positioned as allies of Native Americans offended by Rowling’s writing are unlikely to believe in such beings unless they follow the spiritual tradition of those particular tribes with a concept of skin-walkers. Anyone outside of these communities would either deny their existence outright as mere folklore or delusion or reinterpret in their own spiritual tradition (a Christian may consider skin-walkers to be demons, for example). So when Rowling states that “in my wizarding world, there were no skin-walkers” she isn’t only talking about her fictional world, but the real world as well, where most people would agree that there are no skin-walkers. Many people were likely not even familiar with the concept of such beings until Rowling alluded to them. It is not as if Rowling is responsible for most people denying the existence of skin-walkers, nor is it her duty to be an apologist for unique indigenous spiritualties. It is entirely understandable for Native Americans to be disappointed in Rowling for not doing more to define their culture authentically but it is less certain that Rowling is under any obligation to be such an ally. Especially when what she says does not differ radically from what most people, allies or not of Native Americans, believe themselves to be true. 

To fault Rowling with the denial of the existence of skin-walkers in her fictional world, when most people already deny their existence in the real world, seems to create more problems than it addresses. The implication is that it is offensive to deny the existence of spiritual beings in other communities, even when they are not recognized by or when they contradict that of one’s own religious heritage. The ideology this would require seems neither practical nor intelligible. We may not publish stories saying as much as Rowling does, but we don’t have to; the dismissal of one another’s spiritual traditions as mere fantasies is a pervasive and essential aspect of our lives. Spiritual credulity has its limits. Rowling didn’t slander the reputation of a spirituality that most people took seriously before her publication. Most of them were probably not even aware of it in any detail (as limited as the details Rowling provides are) before her writing and remain unchanged in their opinion after having read it. Rowling certainly can’t be said to have gone out of her way to take Native American spirituality seriously, but how many of her non-Native American critics could say that they do? If Rowling can be faulted here, it is simply for not being polite enough to refrain from what most of us already think quietly to ourselves.     

According to Keene, “there is an entire industry of plastic shamans selling ceremonies, or places like Urban Outfitters selling “smudge kits” and fake eagle feathers.” This concern is very real, since it touches upon more than merely appropriating elements of another culture, but actually profiting off of the exploitive commercialization of cultural artifacts. If Rowling’s ventures into the world of American magic expand and “Native American-themed” wizarding merchandize is generated, one hopes that it becomes an opportunity for Native Americans themselves to contribute to, and benefit from, the venture. How much more beautiful and authentic would the collection be if it was designed by artists of various tribes (rather than having the empty signifier of generically “Native American”), each with their own unique aesthetics, and each of which would benefit from such a partnership by being entitled to a portion of the profit. Keene herself echoes this hope when she says that she wants “Native peoples to be able to represent ourselves. I love the idea of Indigenous science fiction, of indigenous futurisms, of indigenous fanfiction, and indigenous characters in things comics and superhero storylines. I know it can be done, and it can be done right and done well. But it has to be done carefully, with boundaries respected (i.e. not throwing around Skin-walkers casually in a trailer), and frankly, I want Native peoples to write it. We’ve been misrepresented by outsiders every which-way, and it’s time for us to reclaim our stories and images, and push them into the future, ourselves”. 

I cannot applaud this more. I would love to see more Native fantasy authors (I need to do the work and discover those that already exist), not only so that they can provide a voice to the genre but also their communities. I believe that fantasy is an invaluable literary asset to marginalized peoples; as a literature that presents a world that is at times wholly “other” than our own, it is the perfect medium by which the “other” can critique ideologies assumed to be synonymous with reality. I was hoping that Keene would use her writing as an opportunity to present a reclaimed image of her people. Instead she states that “what you do need to know is that the belief of these things (beings?) has a deep and powerful place in Navajo understandings of the world. It is connected to many other concepts and many other ceremonial understandings and lifeways. It is not just a scary story, or something to tell kids to get them to behave, it’s much deeper than that. My own community also has shape-shifters, but I’m not delving into that either” and “What did I decide? That you don’t need to know. It’s not for you to know. I am performing a refusal.”   

I find this performative refusal perplexing given her preceding statements about asserting one’s identity and defining one’s own narrative. But then again, it’s entirely legitimate to view Dr. Keene’s refusal as a statement that it is her people’s narrative, not Rowling’s and not mine. If and when she or any other indigenous person wants to tell the story of their people it will be on their times and in their time. I can’t help but feel that Keene overlooked a great opportunity to redefine JK Rowling’s erroneous narrative further, but I am in no position to demand that Keene divulge further information on something she considers sacred and undeserving of casual or even critical discussion. Marginalized people of color are entitled to whatever strategy they feel best preserves the sacred traditions of their community. My only reservation is that this refusal to differentiate an authentic skin-walker narrative from the one Rowling created seems to leave Rowling with the authoritative voice. If Native American narratives of their own traditions are do not enter public discourse when they have a platform to deliver it, then it seems like white authors will be left to determine the public impression of indigenous mythology. It is unfortunate that Keene’s performative refusal is perceived by some as hypocritically displaying the same indifference as Rowling herself. The difference is that Keene is entitled to such silence, Rowling is not.

Keene and other people of color are under no obligation to the public to divulge their history in response to someone imposing their own erroneous narrative on it. Rowling positioned herself as a voice on Native American culture and history, fantastical or otherwise. She could have done more to ensure that her voice was sympathetic to the people she was speaking on behalf of. I don’t think it is fair to accuse Rowling of promoting stereotypes of Native American people, primarily because such an accusation presumes a level of detail her writing simply doesn’t possess. But in such ambiguity Rowling repeatedly failed to use her writing as an opportunity to confront established stereotypes and step beyond them. Rowling had an opportunity to present her readers with a more authentic image of Native American spirituality, and yet she elected not to, for no apparently advantageous reason. The advantage of the fantasy genre is that in taking us outside of our presumed “real’ world into an “other” world, we are given a greater perspective from which to appreciate the world. Rowling had an opportunity to transport readers into the world of America’s indigenous inhabitants and instead she merely transported readers to a backstory for an upcoming film. This is both a failed opportunity to use her power and privilege to be an ally to a people who generally lack such opportunities, but it was also a failure for her to live up to expectations for her writing and the fantasy genre in general. I’m not angry at JK Rowling so much as I am disappointed that she could be content with so little.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

The Art of World-Building: Coviello's Alienated Religions

            Last week I began my series on the art of world-building: a project focused on promoting world-building artists outside of mainstream speculative fiction who have inspired me. World-building has inherent value to the fan of fantasy or science fiction, and much of it is overlooked because it isn’t attached to a commercial product that can reach a mass audience. There are a variety of artists creating fascinating worlds on the internet, many of which I have connected with on Deviant Art. The second artist I want to explore is the art of Vincent Coviello, otherwise known by V4m2c4. Specifically, I want to focus on his Earth Religions Beyond the Milky Way series.

            This series brings together two of my favorite topics: aliens and religion. While aliens are iconic to science fiction, religion is a topic often looked down upon by the genre, if not overlooked entirely. But for all the technological and scientific progress that has been made within modern history, religion remains a dominating and inspiring aspect of contemporary culture. Though religion may often appear threatened by such progress and adopt of hostile disposition towards it, religions nevertheless endure and some even incorporate rational calculation and scientific consensus into their theologies. Projecting this dynamic into the speculative future imagined by science fiction, and it is entirely possible, if not probable, that we will take our religions with us to distant stars. They may even be the inspiration to the faithful to make the journey, if only to convert sentient alien life on planets beyond our solar system.

            This is the basis of Vincent’s series: imagining the intersection of alien biology and culture with religious conversion to the Terran cults of the space colonists they encounter. Each artwork is a juxtaposition of familiar religious inconography with alien biologies radically divergent from the conformting familiarity of our own humanity. This accentuates the alien quality, the absolute and transcendent otherness, of the religious imagination itself. Religions imagine the impossible as not merely possible, but as eschatologically inevitable; believing devoutly in what much of fantasy postulates for mere creative entertainment. Thus the project appears to be not merely a projection of human religions onto aliens but also, and more crucially, displays the strangeness within religion itself. These are alien interpretations of our terrestrial theologies but they also reveal how alien our own theological ideologies are to our humanity. Do not the strongly religious among our own species show patterns of thought often utterly alien to those outside of their community? The adoption of human religions among alien species is an argument that not only humanizes the alien but also de-humanizes theology, making it transcend association with any finite species and opening itself up to the infinite possibilities inherent in the divine. 

Below is an image of each imagined race and their adopted religion, with a brief synopsis and a link included to the original material. Thus far he has only imagined Christian, Buddhist and Islamic alien communities, but I hope that he will return to the project and imagine other combinations of religious and alien culture. Please check out the rest of his amazing artwork, much of which I expect to return to in the future. And yes, Vincent is the same artist I was fortunate enough to be able to commission to provide the amazing new header graphic for my blog: a critical debate between an eldritch being, a fantastic fae, and an alien creature. This not only captures the eclectic interests and critical perspective of my blog but also displays Vincent’s range of skill as an artist appealing to the speculative fiction community.



"Christianity and Jesus became a fertility based faith and deity. When a female is with child she will be marked with the Ichthys emblem, signifying her transition to Dominas. When the male child is born he is deemed the “Christ child.” . She will be considered the mother of god and will reign with her son along side the clergical court. With the death of her son she will return to a lay position, though always seen as blessed. Jesus’ crucifixion mirrors the male child’s sacrifice. While prized and revered throughout his short life the male’s sole purpose is to repopulate the Kristraseen race with a fresh strain of offspring. Though rare, multiple sons have been born during a birthing cycle. If the case, the other sons will be considered apostles and will also populate along side the god son. A single female can reproduce more than one male throughout her life and if so she will become part of the permanent clergical court and will advise the new king and mother. While the bible is considered the holy book, only the clergical court and reigning family has access. While the Kristraseen bible has many similarities to the earth bible, a lot of stories are deemed unnecessary and invaluable to the race."



"Coshum by nature are hermaphrodites, a fact originally unknown to the Islamic leaders and Imans. Yet once a method of gender identification and classification was established, all be it inaccurate, “males” were sent to learn from Imans. When missionaries began enforcing strict gender rules, roles, codes and conducts there was a great deal of confusion. Categorized male Coshum would next day be exhibiting what was believed to be female roles and mannerisms. Once completely understood, Islamic law was eager to rectify the believed to be impure behavior. This free wielding sexuality was deemed an abomination and was strictly prohibited by force. While many did comply to identifying with a singular gender a “third gender” did appear. This third gender continued to practice the indigenous ideologies and hermaphroditeism. Most third genders still play a vital role in society as they are the only ones equip with indigenous knowledge, such as medicine. Worshipping towards Mecca was established quite early and the problem of accurately facing Mecca was rectified through the celestial astrolabe. This piece of machinery is capable of locating Mecca across the galaxy, pin pointing the exact location of devotion. Many devotees also use shrapnel from the original ship, the ship that brought Islam, as a religious artifact used during worship."



“Biologically “immortal” Kamadhatu’s have a 4-stage metamorphosis. The last, ending in death or rebirth, is the Chrysalis stage (the Birthing coffin). A natural part of the life cycle, the dying Kamadhatu will produce a thick shell, where it will decompose and if healthy enough will reconstitute and “rebirth” with in 2 weeks of its chrysalis formation. Once a natural process it is now reliant on technological models, at least for those living in the industrialized world, to undergo a possible rebirth. (Traditional belief states that those who have more to accomplish will be rebirthed and will reincarnate in the specific stage based on the individuals conviction and the cosmic and biological forces that dictate it)…Buddhism came unbeknownst when Chinese embargoes took fleet to create trading agreements, so many different Buddhist sects and teachings were fragmented and loosely translated into a homogenized Buddhism. Buddhism was considered a fad religion in most of the industrialized world, practiced loosely, superficially and secularly as mysterious religion from the stars. Yet in the rural parts of the planet Buddhist teaching has been absorbed and incorporated quite seamlessly into the remnants of the indigenous religion. Many Buddhist teachers, leaders and even the Dali lama consider the Kamadhatu to be celestial Devas spoken of in Buddhist cosmology. The oldest of the Kamadhatu, most reincarnated, are seen as bodhisattvas constantly reincarnating to teach and enlighten.”



"It was the Catholic belief of transubstantiation of the Eucharist, which sparked the initial resistance. A religion founded on the teachings of a risen from the dead man god who’s followers ate his ‘flesh and blood’ was taken with great horror and touched upon racial taboos of Partaking of flesh and necromancy. This piece of information harkened to the indigenous belief shared across all tribes of the luwongne. Christianity became synonymous with the belief in these necromantic lords. Luwongne are believed to be plague bringing, carnivorous, reanimated bodies of Jian Naodai and are able to summon the dead and other forces as its army. They are believed to convert living followers promising them power and riches. It is not entirely know whether or not the supernatural aspects of the Luwongne stems from any truth.  As Luwongne do in fact exist. They are typically rogue warlords and are a possible threat to Jian Nodai tribes. Many in fact came to use Christian iconography and see Jesus as a necromantic deity. This sparked hysteria across the planet similar to the witch craze that plague earth’s history. Human inhabitants of the planet, regardless of faith, were regularly attacked believed to be Luwongne henchmen. Churches and other human built infrastructures are regularly attacked and destroyed. Fellow Jian Naodai who became devote or suspected to be Christian are ritually sacrificed to tar pits."

Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Art of World-Building: Kosemen's Snaiad


For those who follow this blog or who have read some of my recent posts, they will recognize that I am a member of Deviant Art and I use the site to post some of my world-building ideas associated with my speculative fiction interests and writing. There are so many artists on Deviant Art who have been an inspiration for my own attempts at world-building and my conception of the possibilities open to speculative fiction. For all the interest that fans of speculative fiction have in world-building, it is rarely appreciated outside of its implementation in works of literature, film or video-games. World-building in itself seems undervalued as an art-form, as do the artists responsible for it. For that reason, I have decided to begin the “Art of World-Building” series, wherein I promote the world-building projects of artists who I feel have contributed something interesting and inspiring to the genre of speculative fiction and whose works deserve wider recognition in the fan community. With that said, I wish to introduce the first world-building project I was inspired by: Snaiad
     
          Snaiad is a science-fiction world-building project created by artist the brilliant Turkish artist C.M. Kosemen, otherwise known as Nemo Ramjet on Deviant Art. Snaiad is the name of “one of humanity’s first off-world colonies” founded by “hopeful colonists arriving from the war-wearing Mediterranean”. Snaiad is a world twice as old as our own home-world of Terra, but is very young to its human colonists with “scarely three hundred years” separating the “initial landing and their new-found peace in those precious few cities” founded on the planet. The history of Snaiad begins with life's conception 8 billion years ago, taking another 3 billion years for the first multi-cellular life forms to appear. Within another billion years the planet experienced a radiation of complex life, followed by a mass extinction thereof. Following this another cataclysm extinguished the majority of life on the planet and resulted in the originals of almost all modern plant and animal life. The ancestors of modern pseudo-vertebrates evolved during this period of re-diversification, resembling Terran sea cucumbers. From there life evolves, diversifies and goes extinct in patterns unique to Snaiad, giving rise to the life that humans will discover in the near future when the finally colonize the planet.   

200 years into the future and planetary warfare and resource conflicts have driven development in biotechnology, nanotechnology and metallurgy while life is first detected on planets beyond our solar system. 50 years later and economic and social progress have allowed the colonization of the Moon and Mars with colony ships sent on missions to planets outside of our solar system. During this period Snaiad is discovered by telescope. Over the next 200 or so years advances are made in suspended animation and nano-manufacturing, replacing the need for colonization by generation ships. Turkey, Greece, Cyprus and Israel unite together in efforts to colonize Snaiad and launch their first probes to the planet. Soon after “Sleeper” colony ships are sent to Snaiad. After successfully landing on the planet, the colonists awaken from their suspended animation and utilize nanotechnology to biologically manufacture the “Firstborn” generation utilizing stored ova and sperm. For the next 100 years, madness and depression among the artificially-born Firstborn generation complicate efforts at widespread colonization of Snaiad. The surviving Sleepers intervene and “invent the first Snaiadi religions as a means of social control” including such imaginative and mysterious cults as “Dicephalism, Nerdism, Jethjanism, Neo-Sabbatean sects and Snaiadi animal worship.” Soon after the first naturally conceived generation of colonists is born on the planet and colonization efforts begin in earnest.

Colonists initiate the “Arbophobe Wars” against the indigineous life forms and establish cities and nano-rail using nano-technology. At this time a Sleeper nano-technologist named Moiz Mavrokordatos secedes from the colonial government, changes his name to Sabbatai Sevi and identifies himself as the Messiah of Snaiad. Thousands of colonists follow his authority. The cult create a new nano-technology city named “Memograd” in remote Notor. Following this they begin construction of a star-ship fleet and weapons with the intention of leaving Snaiad in order to conquer Earth. This act of rebellion results in a short war between the Mavrokordite cultists and Neo-Mediteranean colonists, ending with the destruction of the starship fleet and the disappearance of “Sabbatai Sevi”. At the end of the war extreme measures are taken to ensure that another manic abuse of advanced technology does not occur. Knowledge of nano-technology and star-ship systems are ceremoniously destroyed and nano-technology is limited to use in food production, mining and medicine. Standards of living improve and the population of Snaiad stabilizes at 15 million colonists with an average lifespan of 250 years. An elite community of Sleepers, kept alive due to “now forbidden nanotech immortality, silently dictates population control and environmental management policies.”   

The planet Snaiad hosts a variety of ecosystems, some similar to those on Terra and others entirely unique to the alien environment of Snaiad. Deserts, forest, jungles and tundras are all familiar to the human colonists to Terra, excluding the alien flora and fauna inhabiting them. Unique to Snaiad are the Neomediterranean maquis, erthrophyte scrubland, sproglands, and pinnacle ranges. The maquis comprises “water-retaining, heat-resistant plants growing along warm seashores” specific to the Neomediteranean and Orolandic Aegean. The erthrophyte scrublands are a “steppe-like growth of Red-plant” pseudo-grass covering both seaside plains and islands. Sproglands are named after sprog itself: a “spongy, hole-ridden, landscape-blanketing vegetative growth”. Sprog not only provides sustenance for herbivores but is also home to smaller organisms that use it for shelter. Unique to the Pansavannah region of Vesterna is sprog grasslands where there is a “presence of grass-like filamentous plants that carpet the uppermost layer” of the sprog. Finally, there are the pinnacle ranges. These are plains dotted with “reef-like collections of symbiotic plants” bonded together to create massive pinnacles.

Snaiadi life-forms are deceptively alien insofar as they superficially resemble Terran vertebrates, especially dinosaurs, but are radically different once their anatomy is explored in detail. The most extreme divergence is that their genitals are contained in what we would identify as their head. While this body part is involved in the capturing of prey, it is the lower secondary head which is actually involved in the consumption of food. In complex vertebrates, young develop within a uterus within the female’s chest cavity and are birthed by the mother literally vomiting out the infant. In species with simpler or smaller heads, the infants disturbingly “slash their way out” using “specially developed womb-beaks.” Thankfully for the mother the injuries involved in such a birth are superficial and heal rapidly. Other species carry eggs or birth less developed young that resemble worms, which only later metamorphose into a form resembling an adult. For males the space occupied by female reproductive system is “occupied with a wide variety of specular penises, and/or display organs”.  

Snaiadi skeletons resemble wood more than they do bone because they are comprised of a “modified hydrocarbon composite” rather than calcium. This not only gives the skeleton a coloration of brown, black or green but also means that it burns easily when heated. An implication of this is that the fossil record of Snaiad is far more incomplete than that of Terra. The musculature of Snaiadi vertebrates are hydraulic in nature and are derived from “the water-vascular system of the sea cucumber-like” ancestors. As their muscles expand, bones push against one another, thereby moving them. These muscles come in a variety of sizes and are partitioned within self-sealing segments which are “resistant to puncture, and prevent the whole system from failing if a single lobe is disabled”. As vertebrates sleep the majority of their hydraulic fluid migrates to internal reservoirs which “help clean and replenish the hydraulic lymph supply, and also helps accommodate volume change in the entire system”. The bizarre consequence of this is that awakening vertebrates appear to “have thinner limbs and fatter bodies, as it takes a while for the fluid to fill up the limps and the spine”. While Snaiadi animals may breathe in oxygen and release carbon dioxide, they do so using nostrils located under their armpits or the tops of the body. These nostrils also contain their vocal cords which always vocalize in “stereo, from two separate sets of vocal cords on either side of the body” giving their songs “an enchanting, otherworldly effect on human listeners”.  

The deeper one goes into Snaiadi anatomy, the more alien and mysterious it becomes. The nervous system of Snaiadi vertebrates are a “fusion of stringy, impulse-transmitting” nerve fibers and “network of nodes and vessels containing a salty, slightly acidic fluid”. The vertebrate brain is actually two distinct organs which operate in unison. One is a dense formation of fibrous nerves similar to Terran vertebrate brains while the other is a disturbing structure known as a “worm basket”. As its name suggests, the organ is a “sac filled with an extremely convoluted bundle of microscopic tubules” within which millions of glands reside. The organ actually squirms when vertebrates engage in intellectually demanding activity or are dreaming while also being involved in the recording of memories, modulating the rest of the nervous system, and regulating growth and metabolism. The eyes of Snaiadi animals, if they possess them, are small “silicate lenses with no liquid inside” which are annually shed to clear up vision and are augmented by surrounding heat receptors. Hearing is primarily “accomplished by sensing vibrations in a compact bone-in-bone structure” under the arm-pits and secondarily by a hearing organs which “exist under the front footpads” of some vertebrate groups. The wide variety of Snaiadi animals, some of which I have put on display in this essay, can be explored here. I sincerely hope that the project continues to expand in the near future as it has been a huge inspiration to me.   

Monday, December 28, 2015

Star Wars, Spoiler Warnings, and the Social Contract of Nerds

Spoiler Warning: This post contains spoilers for the film Star Wars: The Force Awakens (but only spoilers about spoilers)


          On Absolute Disruption: Theory After Postmodernism, a critical theory blog I follow closely, Jason Ä€nanda Josephson has a brilliant post "The Force of Secrecy: Spoilers, Neo-Liberalism, and “The Force Awakens”". I recommend you go read it for yourself on his blog by following the link embedded above. Drawing upon sociologist Georg Simmel's writing on secrecy, Jason critique's The Force Awakens' marketing strategy as a cynical distraction from the film's lack of substance. Keeping true to the form of this critique, I will avoid discussion of particular spoilers for the film, except for the spoiler that the original Star Wars franchise is a spoiler for this film.

          In his essay "The Sociology of Secrecy and Secret Societies" Simmel argues that secret societies construct their social cohesion around a mutually shared secret. The possession of secret information provides prestige for the society's members and the society itself while the sharing of the secret creates a bond between initiated members. Simmel's most interesting and controversial comment on the sociology of secrecy is that the content of the secret is itself largely irrelevant to its importance for the society; even trivial information, once made secret between members, elevates it above other mundane information into something approaching the sacred.  

          Because the existence of the society is dependent upon the secret being maintained, the insecurity produces an anxious excitement between members of the group who must constantly scrutinize one another's communications with outsiders to ensure that the distinction of membership is maintained. This dynamic causes secret societies to frequently threatens punishment against those who disclose private information improperly to the uninitiated. The Church of Scientology is perhaps the best modern example of this social dynamic with the church threatening members who contradict or expose the organizations teachings to non-members. But one could also argue, as Jason does, that nerd pop-culture possesses a similar dynamic to the secret society cult in the form of spoilers. 

          Nerd consumers of books, games, television shows and films circulating in pop-culture frequently focus upon the need to issue spoiler warning disclaimers for any discussion of the material in question, lest essential and exciting information be exposed to the public without properly experiencing it for one's self. Spoil the ending to a popular book and you with be shamed, publicly mourn the death of a beloved film character and you will be shouted down. Consider the case of Montana teenager Arthur Charles Roy, who allegedly threatened to shoot his Facebook friend for spoiling The Force Awakens, and the parallels between cultic violence for secrecy and pop-culture anger for spoilers becomes apparent. In either case, verbal or physical violence is invoked to protect secret information and  secure the identity of fan(atical) membership. 

          But there is an important distinction between these two dynamics that Jason's commentary overlooks as he proceeds in his critique of the film's contradictory spoiler-free market campaign. Whereas cultic secret societies invoke threats to protect their members within the community, nerds make threats to protect their eligibility to enter the fan community. If the dynamic was the same, the person who leaves the theater after seeing The Force Awakens and gives away the ending would be assaulted by the people walking out with him because he has exposed their shared secret experience of seeing the film for the first time together. But this is not how these situations play out; instead said person would be assaulted by the people waiting in line to see  the movie, which is completely contrary to the relationship between outsiders and insiders of occult communities. 

          The exposure of a secret society's occult knowledge threatens the society itself because the unregulated release of its private information disintegrates the distinction between those inside of it and outside of it. Members artificially flood into the community without commitment to its identity and the community implodes upon itself. Fandom operates differently in that its membership is dependent upon enthusiasm for the personal (secret) experience with pop-culture commodities. Possessing knowledge of the commodity prior to one's encounter with it diminishes one's enthusiasm for it and thus compromises one's fanatical identification with it. Thus spoilers prevent new fans from entering into the fan community and threatens its capacity to sustain itself. Secret societies fail when too many people are able to identify with its distinguishing feature while fan communities collapse when there are no longer enough fans enthusiastic about the pop-culture product. 

          Returning the discussion to The Force Awakens itself, as Jason phrases it: "The perverse thing about the marketing is that the only spoiler is that there are no spoilers." Despite all the concern for spoilers of the film's plot being made public prior to its commercial release, the only serious spoiler for the film, at least in my experience, was exposure to the original Star Wars trilogy itself. If you have already seen those films then you have already seen The Force Awakens. In some sense the film is impossible to spoil since it is devoid of content sufficiently distinct from the original trilogy for its exposure to undermine its enjoyment. But in another sense it is impossible not to spoil the film because of the cultural impact of the original films. Even those audience members who did not actually watch the original trilogy will likely be familiar enough with the narrative of that trilogy for some of The Force Awakens plot to be spoiled for them before it actually unfolds on the screen for them. The tragedy and the irony of this film is that those most familiar with the film franchise will be the one's most devastated by its nostalgic-spoiler dynamic. The one spoiler for the film isn't even a dramatic secret for the audience but is revealed in side commentary from characters and culminates in a nostalgic and predictable parody of the previous films' most iconic moments.

          Before walking into the film I had re-watched the original trilogy in order to reinvigorate my memory and fondness for the beginning of the franchise. But as I walked out of The Force Awakens I felt as though I should have never seen these films to begin with. Not only is The Force Awakens a remix of the original film trilogy, particularly A New Hope,  but it is admittedly a better film in many ways than these films. and because of the way it copies so much from them, this feels like a betrayal of my fandom. It isn't enough that this film be better films than they are, that is what any sequel should aspire to, but it is also better version of them. It retroactively made me regret my devotion to these films by repeating them and doing it better than they did. Which is ironic and a little bit insulting considering that so much of the marketing for this film depended upon imagery appropriated from the original trilogy. The film re-imagined a better past for the series while ignoring consideration of the franchise's future, opting instead to leave that for future films to possibly provide, and derive profit from.       

          The Force Awakens is such a perfect recycling of narrative elements from the previous trilogy that its plot is telegraphed to the audience far before it actually occurs. One may not be able to predict exactly how events will unfold or characters will react, but when they do none of it will be particularly revelatory or riveting for the franchise. Even those moments that we should consider spoilers, are not really that; the characters may have changed from previous films but the same narrative arcs remain to be repeated. The secret of this movie is that it has no secret because we've all seen this movie before. To his credit Abrams has updated the casting and dialogue for contemporary appeal but that only makes it more obvious to the audience how much this movie stands upon and outside of the original trilogy of films; so much of the humor, drama and plotting can only be explained by references to prior films or prior-release Disney-marketed products that the movie would make as just as much sense if the new cast of characters were people from our own world transported in Narnia-esque fashion into the world of the Star Wars series. To say this makes no sense at all is an accurate assessment of this film's intelligibility.   

          Simmel's commentary on secrecy not only provides insight into fan fears over spoilers for The Force Awakens and other beloved forms of pop-culture entertainment but also exposes the strategy of the film's marketing. The film's marketing campaign invested so much focus on avoiding and preventing spoilers for the plot in order to create the illusion that there was a plot worth spoiling to begin with. By presenting the narrative of the film as a secret that needed to be protected, fans were sold that this film would not only have an original and exciting premise behind it. But it also suggested that the excitement itself of encountering the film for the first time was something sacred to studio and audience alike. But in the immortal words of Admiral Ackbar, its a trap! The only secret to the film was an empty one that the film was empty of originality and therefore had no secrets beyond this fact.  This is a cynically exploitative strategy but it seems to have succeeded for the film even if fans such as myself leave the theater ultimately disappointed (though admittedly entertained). 

          By avoiding an original narrative and in attempting to be impossibly apolitical, The Force Awakens exposes itself to being identified as nothing more than the latest capitalizing exercise in cynical cinematic amusement. Its open-ended and empty narrative only serves as an opportunity for further films and merchandise to retroactively  fill in these plot holes for profit. Disney will repeat this process until fans lose their enthusiasm for having their enthusiasm from the previous film sold back to them in the most current form. If fan communities fall because spoilers compromise their enthusiasm for a product, then there is no wonder that Disney fought so hard to protect this film's image from further scrutiny before it could begin making money. Its success depends upon exploiting such fan anxieties but such success is also threatened by this very dynamic it exploits; by inflating the potential of the film Disney has risked diminishing returns for the future of the franchise from its fan-base.

          This puts Star Wars fans such as myself in a compromised position in regards to this film. By critiquing the film we expose its only original (albeit cynical) spoiler and harm the franchise's fan-base but by being silent we perpetuate the secret that this film has no secrets worth sharing to begin with. It may seem like either option threatens the future integrity of the franchise and its fan-base and therefore no matter what the future of Star Wars appears hopeless. I have decided to refrain from discussing my criticisms with this film openly and have therefore provided a spoiler warning above despite the fact that the contents of this essay indicate that such a warning is not as applicable to this film as it would be elsewhere in the nerd community. And despite my criticisms, I would still recommend this film if only because for all its flaws it is still fun and because every Star Wars fan deserves to decide for themselves, rather than have it spoiled for them, whether this is the sort of Star Wars film they want to see again and again (as The Force Awakens appears to indicate that we have reached the end of history within the Star Wars universe). 

          But like the Force itself, perhaps with the Dark side comes the Light. Perhaps the future of the series is doomed to decline and extinction or an indulgent eternal recurrence of the same. But hopefully this is only inevitable insofar as it is reliant upon commercial profit empires like Disney. There is hope for it in tiny acts of rebellion from diverse and devoted fans voicing their dissent against such mass-market production. In the closing words of Jason's original critique, "we could say its deepest secret is the secret that binds all capitalism together, that money is a fiction whose meaning vanishes the moment you stop believing in it." The secret is out, Disney is the Empire and it has struck back at the Star Wars community. Only time will tell if they manage to form a successful Rebellion (or is it the Resistance?) against its capitalist hegemony over their favorite fictional universe. 

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Frank Herbert's Dune: Speculative Fiction Orientalism and Obscurity


          Frank Herbert’s epic science-fantasy series, Dune, was my first exploration of the science fiction genre and my first experience with Orientalist literature; albeit, I was unaware of the latter at the time of my reading. Being only an adolescent I was not yet aware of the work of Edward Said and would not come to read his works until late into my undergraduate education at university. Orientalist interpretations of Eastern culture and religion presuppose a binary between West and East that estranges the latter from the former. The values of the East are considered oppositional to those of the West and are conceived as a static totality. Such simplification enables Eastern culture to be more easily appropriated, commodified and exploited by Western influences. Whether the culture of East is considered superior or inferior to the West, it must inevitably be mastered by the West; either explicitly through the imposition of Western political power or implicitly through the rationalization of Eastern culture according to the dominant ideologies of Orientalist interpreters.

          The speculative future imagined in Dune contains several standard orientalist caricatures but none more so than in the white savior, Paul Mau’dib, the young noble who integrates himself with the primitive natives in order to liberate them against the threat of empire in Laurence-of-Arabia-fashion.  But if Dune can then be said to be Orientalist, it is, like much of speculative fiction, obscurely so. While it is an apparent work of science fiction, Dune posits an alien desert world, Arrakis, so estranged from the experience of the contemporary reader that it is difficult to conceive of it as a future reality as opposed to an alternative reality altogether. This estrangement is only intensified as the years since the novel’s original publication grow, and the pseudo-science of the world becomes less and less credible and coherent in comparison to contemporary scientific knowledge. Contrary to the expectations of science fiction literature however, it is not primarily the pseudo-scientific speculations that connect the fictional world of the Dune series to our own, but rather it is the language of the series that unites the two. The language of the series, or more precisely one of the languages within the series, is also the most apparent site of the series’ obscure Orientalism.
         
          Specifically it is Arabic-derived language of the Fremen desert nomads of Arrakis which provides the connection, albeit in clandestine fashion. At the time of my initial reading of Dune I did not recognize the Fremen language as based in Arabic, having no familiarity with the language or the concepts it expresses, and considered it another exercise in speculative neologisms. Speculative fiction, fantasy or science fiction, utilizes neologisms to construct an imagined alternative world or project ourselves into the language of an imagined future. As most writers of the genre write for English audiences, this linguistic contrast between the familiar and the alien is often done by contrasting English with an exotic-sounding language, whether historical or fantastical. After returning to the text with some familiarity of Arabic, minor as mine is, it was apparent to me that the words spoken by the Fremen (Muad’Dib, Usul, Shari-a, Lian al-Haib, ayat, Kitab al-Ibar, Shaitan, taqwa, dijihad, Sayaddin, jinn, etc ) are derivative of a familiar terrestrial origin in Arabic. What once appeared to be an alien language is now apparent as linguistic appropriation. The exoticism of fictional Fremen culture is a function of the reader’s own unfamiliarity with the Arabic language and Islamic culture and cosmology. Dune does not merely parallel the Orientalist binary between the familiarity of empire and the exoticism of primitive natives but projects it into the future.

          However there is not enough explicit context to determine whether the apparent Orientalism of the text is best interpreted as a representation of contemporary Islamic culture, a speculative projection of Islamic history, or the mere appropriation of a historical culture to provide the element of alien exoticism common to the speculative fiction genre. Speculative fiction requires both a familiar and an exotic language; the former to ground the reader to a relatable reality and the latter to push them beyond its horizon into unfamiliar and fascinating territory. When the pseudo-Arabic of Dune functions as a covert pedagogy in Arab and Islamic culture or whether it is the exploitation and manipulation of that very heritage in the service of speculative of entertainment remains a debatable question. The obscurity of Dune’s Orientalism, the indeterminacy of its intentionality, makes it a problematic work of speculative fiction. But to conclude that this uncertainty is nothing more than a deficiency of the series is to misunderstand the intellectual appeal and potential of speculative fiction.

          Such indeterminacy of intention complicates our world by either imagining alternative histories of this world as in science fiction or an alternative world altogether as is the case of fantasy fiction. Such exercises of the imagination speculate beyond the horizon of our immediate experience and expose us to that which is other. This is often criticized as escapist and in at least one sense I consider this a legitimate critique; by constructing an artificial world rationalized in pseudo-scientific or magical logic, such writing often rationalizes prejudicial stereotypes while simultaneously excusing them as mere speculative play. This writing provides the comforting possibility of escaping into a world where one’s thinking is not challenged by any external referent and casual prejudices and bigotry can be ignored if not celebrated as avatars of artistic freedom. The Fremen are not an Orientalist caricature of a “space Bedouin” because they are not real Bedouin but are Fremen, a futuristic and fictional culture. Speculative fiction abounds with the abominations of racist and Orientalist imaginings but to write explicitly against such naked prejudice misses the potential of speculative writing.

          Our world is not transparent and insofar as speculative fiction aspires towards the construction of realistic artificial worlds it ought to emulate an aura of uncertainty surrounding its world-building. Since such worlds are written and read into being through words, and the more ambiguous the language, the more open to interpretation the world they describe is. The use of neologisms in speculative fiction both liberates the world from prejudicial narratives while exposing our inevitably prejudicial interpretations we project upon the world to understand it. By using unfamiliar words to describe the world, the reader is forced to understand the meaning it communicates independent of automatic and unconscious associations more familiar words would have inherited. But at the same time, this unhistorical use of language opens the words up to wider, and therefore more personally prejudicial, interpretations analogous to a Rorschact ink-blot test.
         
          The significance of and relationship between the Fremen Arabic of the future and Arab-Islamic culture in the present is not obvious and is relative to one’s own prejudices and ignorance. A reader unfamiliar with such a cultural heritage will approach Dune as a mere space opera, but a reader aware of or identifying with such a culture will have a more consequential reading of the text.  Dune is very much written within the gaze of Oriental imperialism and the colonial white savior, but whether it is read that way depends very much upon one’s own cultural education and sensitivity. The series is certainly not an ideal way to educate one’s self on such a cultural history; for it isn’t concerned with familiarizing the reader with Arabic or Islam as historically understood but in utilizing them as pseudo-neologisms to construct an alien world.

          The extent of this estrangement depends upon one’s own limited exposure to and appreciation of other cultures and cosmologies. To the Arabic speaker or Muslim reader, this world will appear far more familiar, though not necessarily more welcome, given its Orientalist tropes. Dune is an imperfect exercise in speculative neologism and a perfect example of how speculative fiction appropriates the language and concepts of “exotic” cultures and translates them into “alien” ones. Exotic words may liberate our imaginations but only if those words are not appropriated from the heritage of people suffering under the prejudices of Orientalism and projects of colonialism. I look forward to a future where speculative fiction not only writes against the prejudices of empire, but is written by those outside its gaze. Thankfully that future appears both inevitable and immanent.

Note: all artwork is the copyright of artist Gorrem (Devon Cady-Lee)