race/gender/science fiction - Response 9

ahahaahaa last minute

dreamfall17 — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 17:29:11 +0000

As I was reading, I noticed several self-referential comments woven into the narrative, remarks that seemed to comment back on Neuromancer and the academic work surrounding it. Though apparently Gibson is less aware than I thought him to be â€“ how did he not notice that he had created another character with the name Case? â€“ my personal opinion is that reader interpretation is as important, if not more important, than authorial intent. I think that what I found was interesting, even if it was not planted there by Gibson to be found. Or, perhaps, I am just recognizing false patterns, in which case this becomes interesting on an entirely different level.

Most of the academic work that has been done on Neuromancer discusses the mind-body divide, and how it plays out in cyberpunk in general and Neuromancer in particular. The concept that we have both a body and a consciousness separate from it â€“ the mind or the soul â€“ is a philosophical construction dating to ancient Greek. In Western culture, particularly, the mind became more and more privileged over the body, culminating in Neuromancer's fantasy of total escape from the body and into cyberspace. The body becomes "the meat thing," something to be disdained entirely (Neuromancer 55).

In Pattern Recognition, Gibson begins with his own assessment of Neuromancer's style of science fiction: "We have no idea, now, of who or what the inhabitants of our future might be. In that sense, we have no future. Not in the sense that our grandparents had a future, or thought they did. Fully imagined cultural futures were the luxury of another day, one in which the 'now' was of some greater duration" (Pattern 58-59). Rather than fantasize about an alternate dimension of disembodied minds that may never be, Pattern Recognition demonstrates how that feeling of escape from the body can be enacted with the technology we have today.

First, he clarifies that an actual escape of the mind from the body is neither possible nor desirable â€“ he grounds consciousness more securely in the organs of the body. Again speaking through Bigend, Gibson writes, "what we think of as 'mind' is only a sort of jumped-up gland, piggybacking on our reptilian brainstem and the older, mammalian mind, but our culture tricks us into recognizing it as all of consciousness" (Pattern 71). After reading article after article about the mind-body gap in Neuromancer, this appeared to me to be a direct reply from Gibson to all the academics who had been discussing his book amongst themselves for so long.

Additionally, he includes a mention of Parkaboy "railing on about Mama Anarchia's tendency to quote Baudrillard and other Frenchmen who annoy him so deeply" (Pattern 50). Baudrillard's work on "hyperreality" was mentioned often in the articles I read about the disembodied mind, and though I obviously cannot be sure who the other Frenchmen are, the "father of modern philosophy," Rene Descartes, the man responsible for the modern formulation of the divide between mind and body, was French.

Though many of the mentions Gibson makes in the beginning of the book seem critical of the concept of cyberspace, Cayce experiences the internet very much like Case experience the matrix. Sure, she does not attach any electrodes to her head and go rushing around in receding city lights, but the internet provides her life with more meaning than the real world ever does. The internet gives her the footage to obsess over, the catalyst for the sort of quest for truth that she embarks on, and Parkaboy, a better and truer match for her than anyone she could find in the real world by herself, as Boone Chu attests. Though embodiment is not criticized in Pattern Recognition, as it is in Neuromancer, the mind is still the important bit of that partnership, capable of finding meaning in life much more profound on its own than fettered by the body.

Duality in Midnight Robber

Kamin — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 17:06:03 +0000

Given the existence of two parallel universes in MR, it's an enticing idea to contrast the two â€“ each as offering its own different form of oppression, for example. Toussaint, while a diverse, safe (thanks to Granny Nanny), and relatively utopian-like civilization, gives up privacy to the point that one "couldn't even take a piss without the toilet analyzing the chemical composition of the urine and logging the data in the health records" (10). New Half-Way Tree, in contrast, offers a return to nature where freedom comes with the trade-off of facing myriad wild beasts with less technology at one's disposal. Opportunities for dualistic analysis appear easy and rewarding.

However, MR follows a generally cyclical pattern that crosses boundaries freely between the two worlds, particularly in relation to the Robber Queen myth and language.

Throw-away myths such as that seen in "How Tan-Tan Learn to Thief" link together the characters in ways that inform the reader (consider the foreshadowing of Tan-Tan marrying Antonio or how Tan-Tan forcing her neglectful mother to become her maid reveals hidden resentment) but take place outside of the main narrative. Yet in the cylical interconnectedness of MR, myths of the "Robber Queen" play a large part in Tan-Tan's childhood â€“ at one point she refuses to change out of a Robber Queen costume for two days straight (30). Faced with abuse by her father, Tan-Tan transforms into the myth herself to be free: "It must have been the Robber Queen who pulled out the knife. Antonio raised up to shove into the person on the bed again. It must have been the Robber Queen, the oulaw woman, who quick like a snake got the knife braced at her breastbone just as Antonio slammed his heavy body right onto the blade" (168). Tan-Tan becomes the myth whose stories shaped her childhood. All of this takes place within the broader context of a cultural tradition of heroes "escaping the horrors of slavery and making their way into brigandry as a way of surviving in the new and terrible white devils' land in which they'd found themselves" (57). Stories from 17th century Afro-Carribean myth, Touissant 'real life', Touissant myth, New Half-Way Tree 'real life', and New Half-Way Tree myth blur into one another, sharing stories, characters, and motifs (e.g. wisdom trumps physicality).

Similarly, Hopkinson's unique ways of storytelling blend these 'separate halves' together. The dialect remains constant throughout, and numerous changes in style (between the boldfaced nanny-narrator, 3rd person, boldfaced douen-speech) blur together.

I find parallels between this novel's celebration of a traditionally oppressed culture and the revolutionary picture of gender in Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness. As both break free from restricing systems of oppression, both create worlds in which "the whole tendency to dualism that pervades human thinking may be found to be lessened, or changed" (94).

Reading Response Pass

DeusExMachina — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 11:30:36 +0000

As I suspected, there's no way I'm producing a reading response today, between the draft of the final paper and a paper I have to write for another class... Ah well, I saved my second pass because I knew this would happen.

There's some literary word for this writing style, but I forget what it was

Captain.ver.Kerk — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 06:19:22 +0000

Midnight Robber is a novel set apart from most other works of science fiction in its use of a non-Anglo-Saxon culture as the predominant society of its world. Science Fiction often deals with issues of individuals set apart from the rest of society or set in unfamiliar surroundings, trying to find their way, and so it is somewhat surprising that there are so few examples of Science fiction works written through the lenses of cultures outside of the western/American norm. Nalo Hopkinson presents a future in which Carribean culture and influence dominates, built through her use of Creole narration and mythologies that depart from westernized norms.

The most conspicuous representation of the novel's Carribian viewpoint is the use of Creole Language by characters and the Narrative. The very intro of the book begins with some text describing the main character that, at first glance, might be confused for improper grammar, or just seem incomprehensible for a long while: "The only thing soft about Tan-Tan is she big, molasses-brown eyes that could look on you, and your heart would start to beat time boopaloops with every flutter of she long eyelashes. One look in she eyes, and you fall for she already," (1-2). Once a reader comes to understanding the grammar structures and wording methodologies a bit better, though, the text becomes almost as easy to read as regular English prose, but gives the added cultural element to keep the reader immersed in the story. The character dialogues are similarly presented in Creole, keeping the image that the entire world, not just our main character, is based upon Carribean culture rather than western societal constructs. One exchange goes as follows: " 'I not leaving you!' 'She not going anywhere with you, you pissant wretch!' 'Go, Melonhead, or it just go be worse!' 'You sure?' 'Yes! I go come talk to you later,' " (166). As previously mentioned, this at first glance appears to be bad grammar, but gives an authenticity otherwise completely lost by correcting the speech patterns of Creole pidgin.

Hopkinson further involves Creole by using mythologies based in the realm of the novel and its Carribean roots. The majority of tales involve trickery, or "anansi story" as it is called in the introduction, referring to an African legend of Anansi the Spider, a great being who greatly helped out mankind but also was a trickster. In the tale of Tan-Tan and Dry Bone, the entire plot is centered around the two characters trying to out-trick each other to get their way; In Dry Bone's case to be perpetually cared for by Tan-Tan, and Tan-Tan trying to get rid of him. Tan-Tan finally wins out by tricking Dry Bones to going out onto her porch by weaving an image of a veranda suited for a king, playing to his ego to bring about his downfall at the hands of Master Johncrow, who takes Dry Bone away into the sky (211). While Western myths deal with trickery, the Carribean and African influenced myths present in the story seem almost entirely comprised of subterfuge as a means to all ends.

Midnight Robber's basis in Carribean and African culture allow for a more immersive reading experience, and help to create a realm that is, sadly, more alien than most standard works of science fiction which are based on western culture. By taking readers into this other culture, she can create a fictitious world with so many real world elements, yet still have it be alien and unique.

Importance of language

dragongrrl — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 03:52:39 +0000

What struck me most about Nalo Hopkinson's Midnight Robber was not any of the obvious subjects addressed in the novel: race and gender issues, rape, incest, self-love, self-respect, etc; rather, the language she used to discuss these things was so exact in its strange dialect and such a crucial part of the novel. In most of the novels we have read thus far, there is some strange vocabulary that helps define the strange world we read about, but in general, the language in which the author tells the story is easily understandable. It is not so in Midnight Robber, where this Afro-Caribbean dialect is not reserved for dialogue but used in narration as well. The effect of this is that the reader must constantly pay attention to what is being said or he will miss the meaning of the words. Indeed, as I was reading it, if I started to scan paragraphs I would have to go back and re-read them because I really couldn't understand what had just happened in the story.

Obviously there are certain words that, like previous SF novels, are completely made up by the author. "Headblind," "nannysong," "eshu," and "datastock" are a few of these. "Headblind" refers to objects or situations that Granny Nanny, the omniscient and omnipresent computer, doesn't have access to; in other words, she is blind to them. One such item is real paper; the current equivalent, which Granny Nanny does have access to, is datastock, something that seems similar to word processing for documents. The sing-song phrases used to communicate with Granny Nanny and the house eshu are called nannysong, for obvious reasons. The eshu is a little less obvious; similar to Granny Nanny, it seems, it has no physical presence but exists within the "living" house simply as a.i. consciousness, and can control much of how the house operates (ie changing walls into mirrors when asked).

These made-up words are expected, almost clichÃ© when it comes to science fiction, but real words--at least slang that is actually used in certain dialects--is not, and is much harder to read. In fact, it is unclear whether many of the unknown words are Hopkinson's creation or real slang, though probably the latter. "Allyou" is a pretty obvious word; a much better known term would be "y'all," and certainly means the same thing. On the other hand, "pickney" takes a while to figure out, but seems to refer to children, especially young and tricky ones. While "doux-doux" is unfamiliar to most Americans, it is not really slang, as it comes from the French word that means "sweet," and is obviously used as a term of endearment. "Nuh" and "seen" are a bit more difficult, however; "nuh" is apparently used similarly to its cousin "no" as questioning the previous statement. " 'Daddy, let we go home, nuh?' " (Hopkinson 72). Here, the equivalent would be, "Can't we go home?" Conversely, "seen" is a statement of agreement or acknowledgment (like "okay"), wherein the speaker has "seen" the import of the listener's previous words.

The vocabulary is not the only confusing part of Hopkinson's language, however; the grammar is what makes the novel truly difficult to read, at least until one has gotten used to it. For instance, possessive pronouns are most often the same as our usual subject pronouns: "She two arms hard with muscle . . ." (1); and subject and object pronouns seem to have switched places: " 'Them does only pay a pittance compared to we' " (8). Subject and verb are sometimes switched, verb form is seldom "correct"--in all, it can be quite a confusing read for anyone. What we must consider is, since books are meant to be read (and this one is likely intended for an audience who does not speak the novel's dialect), why make it so difficult to read? For one thing, the main aspect of culture lies in its language, so Hopkinson immerses the reader into her obviously different world immediately. Moreover, and more importantly, because the language makes the reader stumble and pick his way through, it forces him to concentrate better on what is being said. True, the reading will get easier as he makes his way through the novel and gets used to its style, but it still will catch him if he starts slacking off in attention because it is never a natural way of forming sentences in his brain. In this way, Hopkinson achieves the ultimate goal of an author: to make her reader immerse himself completely in the story and concentrate on what she is telling him.