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Dystopia vs. Science Fiction

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Gentle Readers,

We have a problem. To many of you, this missive will not be a surprise. To others, it may come as a great shock, but I feel that it is something we need to discuss, no matter the discomfort it may cause.

The problem is this: so many of you are wrong.

I know, I know. Someone is wrong on the Internet! I must correct them posthaste! I sense your mockery. But I cannot let it stop me from proclaiming a truth that has lain dormant for too long, too many of us taking it for granted as legions of ignorant readers brazenly flout it.

What truth is it that I write of? Only this simple fact: not all science fiction novels are dystopias.

Let that percolate for a while. Take all the time you need.

Are you ready to move on? Then let’s. 

The hallmark of a dystopia is the presence of a repressive or controlling society, usually presented initially as utopian. I also posit that this must necessarily be done on a large scale. Failing that, it must seem to be large-scale. (Teenage readers, just because your parents repress your ability to party on Friday nights does not mean your home is a dystopia.)

When one considers this all-important defining factor, one can easily determine the difference between a solid science fiction tale and a dystopia. And yet so many of you insist on conflating the two! Yes, dystopias are science fiction stories, but the opposite is not always true.

Perhaps some examples will help shed light on the situation.

Not dystopias: Variant (157 Goodreads readers have been misled into calling this a dystopia). Cinder (422 befuddled creatures). Tankborn (59 confused souls). The Obsidian Blade (1 lonely reader). Daughter of Smoke and Bone (22 readers who need to stop reading fantasy while under the influence of certain substances). The Fault in Our Stars (not even the professionals are immune).

Dear, gentle readers who have read any of the above-named books: please review them in your mind. I have no doubt that once you carefully consider the defining criterion for a dystopia, you will acknowledge the error of your ways.

Sometimes it’s difficult to tell! you insist. And I acknowledge this. Some science fiction novels do have dystopian themes or portions that involve a dystopian society. I can think of two easily: Across the Universe by Beth Revis and Ashes by Ilsa Bick. The repressive and controlling society is there, even if it’s not present through the entire book. If you choose to call these dystopias, I shall not shame you for it. Still, I urge you to use caution.

Perhaps now you are beginning to doubt yourself. Is anything a true dystopia? you ask. I feel like my whole life is a lie! you exclaim. Fear not. You may keep your Hunger Games, your Divergent, your Delirium and Wither. Do not doubt all you read. All I ask is that you examine carefully what it is you read before you proclaim it a dystopia. Pause, and consider.

So join with me, readers, and proclaim your resolve to not call all gardening tools spades. No more shall we be subject to the tyranny of incorrect labels. No more shall we allow the varied, vast, and endlessly creative field of science fiction to be ignorantly winnowed down to a slender subgenre. We shall strive for accuracy in all our categorization endeavors, and we will not back down from the truth!

Yours in Labeling Veracity,

A Concerned Reader

The Obsidian Blade by Pete Hautman

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I had no idea what I was getting into when I started The Obsidian Blade, the first book in a new science fiction series by Pete Hautman. From the jacket copy, I expected some sort of time travel story where the protagonist would have to go backward or forward in time in order to save the world, or at least save the people he loves. That’s part of it, but what I actually got was much, much more.
When Tucker Feye was thirteen, his preacher father climbed onto the roof of their house and disappeared. He reappeared sometime later, walking down the lane with a strange girl named Lahlia in tow, but he wasn’t the same. He was distant, and he had lost his faith. Soon after, Tucker’s mother began to lose her grip on reality. 
Later, both of Tucker’s parents disappear, gone through the strange shimmery orb above their home, and Tucker vows to find them. This sets him on a journey both backward and forward in time, including such times/places as the death of Christ, a ritual sacrifice at the top of a futuristic pyramid, and his own town thousands of years in the future, unrecognizable and strange. He meets benevolent people who try to help him, murderous people who try to kill him, and strange people/non-people who may be trying to help and harm him at the same time.
The Obsidian Blade is a crazy book, and I mean that in a good way. It’s full of time travel and aliens (maybe?) and robots (maybe?) and new religions and cultures and disease and futuristic technology, and it presents the reader with all of this in such a way that every page is a new discovery of something bizarrely fascinating. It’s so solidly science fiction that it makes other “science fiction” books seem like impostors.
Part of the reason Hautman is able to make the book so compelling is that he doesn’t hold the reader’s hand as he tells the story. There’s no big info-dump from a wizened mentor or an intrusive narrator who kindly explains everything to the reader. For the entirety of the book, Tucker is pretty much at a loss as to what’s going on. He’s feeling his way as best he can, and we as readers are right there with him, confused and concerned but needing to know what happens next. Obviously, this can be a drawback for some readers – I know some who like to know exactly what’s going on as they read. If you are that reader, this book is not for you. 
Hautman does commit the cardinal sin of not giving this first installment any real ending. I’ve chosen to forgive him for this, because every time I turned the page, I read something that made me exclaim “What?!” (and I do mean audibly). I loved how strange this book was, how otherworldly it was despite the fact that it is, in fact, set in this world. Most of all, I loved how daring it was – that it dared to re-write the death of Christ, of all things. It was – and please forgive my language – just plain ballsy, and we need more of that in YA.
I read this book back in January and I’ve been wanting to write about it for months. It’s not a book for people who may be easily offended or who are wary about wading too deeply into the waters of SF. If you like your science fiction light, this isn’t for you. But if you dig bizarre stories full of sci fi elements that seem missing in so much of the popular YA SF being written today, you should really pick this up. 
Review copy received from publisher. The Obsidian Blade will be published April 10.

What I’m Reading Now

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My reading life lately has been preoccupied with Cybils books, which I can’t discuss yet, but I have managed to squeeze in some other books in between. As always, I’ll probably have a few longer reviews of these titles up at a later date.

Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman

I’m a little late to the party on this one, and I’m so glad I finally picked it up. It’s a great example of why I love fantasy: the worldbuilding is exquisite and I never get tired of learning more about Eon’s culture – even when it’s told rather than shown. Moreover, while some fantasy tropes are certainly present, I can fairly say that this is one of the more unique stories I’ve read in a while (there is no riding of dragons, for instance). I’m listening to this one, and the narrator is perfect.

Fables Volume 16: Superteam by Bill Willingham

I always look forward to a new Fables volume. This one let me down a little bit – the showdown with Mr. Dark is anticlimactic and the creation of a Fables “Superteam” is gimmicky. Granted, the gimmick is deliberate and meant to be a bit of a satire, but it didn’t work so well for me. Of course, Willingham teases us with a new plot twist at the end that makes me eager for the next volume. Plus, the first story in this volume is unabashedly Oz-inspired (and illustrated by Eric Shanower), so you know I was all over that.

The Raft by S. A. Bodeen

I really enjoyed this solid story about a girl who survives a plane crash only to be cast adrift at sea. There’s not much more to it than that, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. While the end isn’t ever really in doubt, Bodeen is great at keeping the tension and suspense high, particularly when there isn’t much opportunity for character interaction. Plus, I learned all sorts of things I can do to survive at sea. Always handy.

 
The Obsidian Blade by Pete Hautman

Strange but intriguing, Hautman brings us a science fiction tale that involves time travel, strange new cultures, and aliens (maybe?). It’s so odd, and part of the reason for its oddness is that Hautman just lets the story unravel on its own. There’s almost no explanation of the backstory, no wizened old man who sits down and tells our teenage protagonist what’s going on. (This is a good thing.) I’m really digging it so far.

 After the Snow by S. D. Crockett

Willo is living in another ice age. Society has broken down and food and shelter, much less education, are hard to come by. Willo narrates his own story in dialect. Books written in dialect are always tough for me at the beginning. I’m about halfway into this one and I still haven’t fallen into it well enough for the reading to be natural. It’s not a good sign, but the plot is intriguing enough that I want to see how it turns out.

Cinder by Marissa Meyer

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Marissa Meyer’s debut novel Cinder has been hyped a lot, but I went into it pretty blind, and I’m glad I did. I didn’t have any thoughts other than “Wow, this jacket copy makes it sound awesome, I hope it is!” Folks, I wasn’t disappointed. This is one buzzed novel that totally delivers.
So here’s the deal: Linh Cinder is a young mechanic who lives in New Beijing sometime in the distant future. She was in a mysterious accident as a young child, and the only way to save her life was to make her a cyborg. This means that she has some mechanical, non-human parts. Cyborgs in Cinder’s world are second-class citizens, and she’s bound to her stepmother by law. True to the Cinderella story from which this book takes its inspiration, Cinder’s stepmother is a hellacious beast. Within the first couple of chapters, she does something truly horrendous to Cinder, which sets in motion the action of the novel.
I can’t go much beyond that, but you know the story of Cinderella, so you know the book involves a prince (here his name is Kai), two stepsisters (here only one is bad), and a shoe. The fairy tale inspiration here isn’t quite as loose as it is in Anna Sheehan’s A Long Long Sleep (another fantastic SF), but it’s not just a re-telling either. If you know Cinderella, you know where the relationship between Kai and Cinder is going to go, but you won’t know much beyond that.
My favorite part of Cinder is the world-building. There’s an awful plague in Cinder’s world that’s highly contagious and incurable. The emperor and his son, Kai, are desperately working to find a cure. Meanwhile, they’re also delicately negotiating with the queen of the Lunars (yes, people who live on the moon) in order to prevent a war. If you think Cinder’s stepmother is a hellacious beast, wait until you meet Queen Levana. There are a bunch of other elements going on here, but the end result is New Beijing and its denizens feel fully realized. They also don’t feel derivative of anything else I’ve read, despite the novel’s inspiration.
The writing is smooth and miles beyond what most debut authors can accomplish. It’s not as beautifully immersive as Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone nor as distinctive as Patrick Ness’ Chaos Walking, but it never once brought me out of the story with an awkward turn of phrase. I’d pick up the book, and the next time I looked away from it, 100 pages were gone. I give major credit for that to Meyer’s decision to write in third person past tense.
I also loved the characters. Cinder and Kai, our two leads, are fairly complex. Cinder’s android companion, although not made of any human parts, is written so well that she seems human. Cinder’s younger sister (the nice stepsister) is both spoiled and sweet, making her realistic and easy to like. Even the hellacious beast of a stepmother feels like a three-dimensional character in Meyer’s hands. And Queen Levana is so deliciously evil (so far, at least) that she is always a treat to read about.
Although there was one major plot point that I found completely predictable, most of the story felt unique and fresh. I think it’s indicative of a publishing trend towards more straightforward science fiction that isn’t classified as dystopian. The plague may bring to mind a dystopia, and it wouldn’t surprise me if many people classified Cinder that way (the term is so over-used!), but the novel is not truly a dystopia. It’s just plain old science fiction, and that’s what makes it so awesome.
Like a lot of YA science fiction being published now, Cinder is a great choice for readers who like their science fiction without complex science. That doesn’t mean it’s a great choice for readers who don’t naturally like science fiction, just that you don’t really have to remember much of your high school physics class to get it. There’s also not a whole lot of new jargon to learn, which may make it more friendly to people who tend to stay away from SF.
This is the first book in a quartet, but it passes my rule of “All books must include a beginning, middle, and end,” so it gets a pass. In fact, it gets more than that – I eagerly await the next installment.

2011 in Review: Kimberly’s Picks

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This was a good year for science fiction. On the SFF scale, I’ve always leaned more towards fantasy. Lately though, the YA fantasy field has been overcrowded with paranormal books (which really aren’t my thing). There just haven’t been many well-written books along the lines of Graceling (where the magic doesn’t occur in our own world). Science fiction is a different story. It started with the dystopia movement and I’m pleased to say it’s progressed beyond that subgenre to some straight-up old school scifi goodness. The trend continues beyond this year. I am very much looking forward to it.
All of that is to say there were some real standouts in science fiction this year. In fact, despite my deep and abiding love for all things dystopian, the standout sci fi novels weren’t dystopias. Of course, my favorite book of the year was a fantasy, and a paranormal one at that…
Best book of 2011: Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor
No need to recap why – I’ve said it at least half a dozen times already.
There are a smattering of runners-up, and here is where the sci fi shines: Glow by Amy Kathleen Ryan, A Long Long Sleep by Anna Sheehan (which I didn’t review, but Kelly did), and Tankborn by Karen Sandler. Karen Healey’s moving fantasy The Shattering and A. S. King’s literary novel Everybody Sees the Ants round out my top picks of the year.
Even the almost-great science fiction offerings were better than usual: Variant by Robison Wells, Divergent by Veronica Roth, and Ashes by Ilsa Bick all exceeded my expectations. Keep it up, authors. The science fiction field is so fertile for new and genuinely innovative stuff. I except to see some of that in 2012.
Book I most look forward to sharing in 2012: Cinder by Marissa Meyer
If Cinder is any indication, my wish for 2012 will be granted. Look for a review of this very early next year. I know it’s been getting a lot of buzz. It’s deserved.
Most anticipated sequel of 2012: Spark by Amy Kathleen Ryan (July) and the sequel to Daughter of Smoke and Bone (September) are neck and neck here. Insurgent (May) is a solid third, but I don’t feel the itch to get my hands on it like I do the others.
Most disappointing: Chime by Franny Billingsley & Dust and Decay by Jonathan Maberry
These two share the dubious honor in this category, but for very different reasons. Chime was almost the polar opposite of what I enjoy in a book, whereas Dust and Decay was well-written and exciting but too much of a rehash of the first book in the series to be in satisfying.
Cutest: Long Tail Kitty by Lark Pien
By a long shot. Is there anything cuter than this book? No, there is not. Dare I say it – it might be even cuter than some of your children. (This is a 2009 book, but I read it this year, so I’m including it.)
Best surprise: Clarity by Kim Harrington
I was so surprised – and pleased – by how much I enjoyed this mystery with a paranormal twist. Clare’s voice is among the best I read all year.
Book most in need of some judicious editing: The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin
It had potential. When I’m at my most grandiose, I like to think I could have whipped this book into shape. And then I remember that writing and editing are always harder than they seem.