November 20, 2009
 
|
 
|
 
|
 
|
 
|
 
|
 
|
 
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Science Fiction and the Areopagus |
| by Mark P. Shea |
| 4/02/08 |
|
My kids have been using their spare time to bone up on the Essential Marvel Comics. I know -- this makes me a bad parent. Of course, when I was their age, I was poring over MAD Magazine. (I can still recall the cartoons -- and the awe-inspiring sound effects -- of Don Martin with crystalline clarity. The man was a genius!)
But for my kids, it's all about X-Men, Avengers, Iron Man, Spider-Man, and the whole pantheon created by the incredibly fertile image-minds of the makers at Marvel.
Indeed, what strikes me is how very much like an ancient pantheon the enormous and complex roster of superheroes is. As each year passes, their mythology becomes more and more dizzying. The curious juxtaposition of Limitless Cosmic Powers and "Why won't MJ go with me to the prom?" human weakness makes Marvel characters so oddly reminiscent of the pagan gods of yore, with their strange blend of petty jealousies and titanic omnipotence. The jungle of sheer imaginative complexity is kind of overwhelming. My kids are intimately familiar with all the biographical details of these demi-gods: whom they dated, married, fought with, morphed into, killed, raised from the dead, and what not. The head starts to spin after a while. I don't have enough free time to think about it much. But for a particular subculture, these stories (and thousands like them) are fascinating mythology.
Not that I don't enjoy science fiction and fantasy novels and films, not least because they constitute perhaps the principal place in our culture where it is routine, expected, normal, and welcome to discuss matters of both theology and philosophy.
That's a curious thing when you think about it. Science fiction is a genre whose founding fathers and mothers tended very often (though not exclusively, of course) to be the sort of people who were hard-boiled atheists of the Arthur C. Clarke/Isaac Asimov mold -- people who spoke the word "Science" either with a sort of religious reverence or with the sort of stentorian triumphalism of a Thomas Dolby tune. Some of them, like H. G. Wells, managed to achieve both science worship and stentorian triumphalism in their work, writing books which were combinations of fun narrative and some of the preachiest, creakiest, antiquated prophecies in print.
Outgrowing God is indeed a favorite theme of science fiction and fantasy. Evolution/technology/aliens/time travelers from the future/computers/whatnot are always just about to prove that God does not exist, life after death is a fantasy, the soul is a function of matter, man is but a sophisticated meat machine, Jesus never existed, etc.
And yet the astonishing thing is that science fiction and fantasy are absolutely awash in theological speculation. Lots of it is pagan, in the Chestertonian sense. That is, it is an attempt to reach God through the imagination, hampered by the inability to conceive of something truly outside of the created world. The result is a sort of quasi-supernaturalism that acknowledges planes of existence beyond the human, but refuses to entertain the notion of angels and demons.
Hence, a lot of science fiction and fantasy turns on creating beings who behave like fallen or unfallen angels -- or Greek gods -- but then falls back on the tired expedient of calling them "energy beings" or "incorporeal intelligences." It reminds me of nothing so much as Uncle Screwtape's fervent dream of the Materialist Magician: the hoped-for "man, not using, but veritably worshipping, what he vaguely calls 'Forces' while denying the existence of 'spirits.'"
Of course, the basic genres of science fiction and fantasy have created a vast number of sub-genres -- and not all the DNA comes from the secular impulse. J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, Madeleine L'Engle, and various other Christian authors have made colossal contributions to it. Such figures as Gene Wolfe, Walter Miller, Sandra Meisel, and others from a Catholic background have made serious contributions. Some, like Tim Powers, have had great fun vigorously reasserting a distinctly Catholic worldview in some very wild tales.
I've been hooked on Powers's work for the past several months. He writes "genre-bending" fiction, which he describes as "secret histories." For example, in Declare, he will plunge us into what appears to be a standard-issue spy novel a la John le Carré and then, with strange believability, draw us into intrigues that go far beyond the mere prosaic struggles of the Cold War into the Catholic awareness that "we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." Before you know it, the spy thriller has become a sort of horror novel involving fallen angels, British double-agent Kim Philby, Noah's Ark, djinn, and a weirdly credible and Byzantine explanation of the real struggle for the soul of the 20th century that reaches far beyond merely human players.
Powers is a novelist of endless invention who, among other things, is simply having so much fun coming up with wilder and wilder ideas (a Los Angeles underworld that gets off on inhaling ghosts; a Mossad unit of crack psychics working to change history with Albert Einstein's secret time machine; a man who roams 19th-century London switching bodies with hapless victims; Lord Byron battling Egyptian sorcerers; and much, much more), and he's right at home in the worlds he creates. But he's writing all the while as a fully Catholic author who confronts us, on these strange shores, with the Faith of the Church.
Similarly, Michael Flynn is a remarkable writer who brings his astounding erudition to bear on such books as Eifelheim, a fascinating novel set in the Black Forest in 1348. It tells the story of a well-educated, medieval Catholic priest who encounters a craft of stranded extraterrestrials. Flynn's thorough mastery of the culture, science, philosophy, and theology of the time presents a modern audience -- who is all too likely to imagine itself 800 years smarter than medieval Christians -- with the formidable sophistication of the medieval mind. The story is both gripping and heartbreaking and is, I think, one of the finest novels ever written.
Likewise, new converts like the inimitable John C. Wright have a jolly time meeting the fans (a big percentage of them non-Christian with a formidable background in the sciences, philosophy, and literature) and speaking to them in their own terms. Wright, a convert to the Catholic faith from atheism via non-denom Christianity, is a winsome fantasy writer, an original thinker, and a man bubbling with creativity. He is also just plain funny and equally at home in discussions of artificial intelligence and the need for more Space Princess pulp fiction. He has the knack of empathy and remembers his own difficulties with the Faith well enough that he can speak to those who still have them, while believing very deeply in the teaching of the Church and articulating it clearly.
Such work is, it seems to me, vital. St. Paul did not wait around for the Athenians to come to him. He walked into a city where, as Luke marveled, "all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there spent their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new" (Acts 17:21), and opened his mouth on the Areopagus. It's a perfect description of the world of fandom. Our culture has almost no place left where matters of philosophy and theology can be discussed freely in the public square. It's out of court in politics; it does not sell beer and shampoo on television; our Chattering Classes are so ignorant of the most elementary points of both that the less said the better on almost any talk show you could name.
But in the countless worlds of science fiction and fantasy, there is still limitless room for a talented Catholic writer to spin a yarn and proclaim the Gospel thereby. God send more gifted apostles to this new Areopagus!
Mark P. Shea is a senior editor at www.CatholicExchange.com and a columnist for InsideCatholic.com. Visit his blog at www.markshea.blogspot.com. Readers have left 12 comments. I actually keep a file on Catholic SF & Fantasy, and I'll be adding this article to it. Dean R. Koontz, *IF* I recall correctly, is another Catholic fantasy novelist, though we're to be warned that he has some hard edges. Tolkien/Lewis associate Charles Williams wasn't quite Catholic, but his fantasy novels were certainly compatible with the Faith. Another classic is Children of the Atom, by Wilmar Shiras. A Canticle for Leibowitz is one of my favorite novels of all time. Another positive view of Catholicism comes in another of my favorite novels, Ender's Shadow, by Orson Scott Card (a member of the COJCOLDS, or "Mormons"). I've wanted to read Eifelheim for some time; this just adds to it. I'll check my notes when I get home; maybe I've forgotten some. Great article, Mark! I've got some people I need to forward this to!! Written by Eric Pavlat A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller The authors you list are excellent and I enjoy them all, but there isn't a sci-fi book in this genre that surpasses Miller's work. This one was just jaw droppingly good! Written by Squiboda Eric, I've never been a huge sci-fi/fantasy reader, but Ender's Game was one of my favorites growing up. My family (in that dorky way that families do) used to have contests while on vacation to see who could finish it first, even if it meant stealing the one copy of the book we all shared from an unsuspecting sibling. I never did get around to reading Ender's Shadow, but I've heard good things. Written by Margaret Cabaniss Ender's Shadow in every way surpasses its inspiration. If Game was good SF, Shadow was good literature. It's on a whole different level, and I can't recommend it highly enough. Every person that I've given it to has come back positively effusive with praise for the novel. (Unfortunately, for the next three "Shadow" novels, Card just seemed to be "going through the motions," so I don't recommend them. But Ender's Shadow was a truly special novel.) I still can't find my file (how frustrating!), but I do want to mention Children of Men, the Christian novel that inspired the secular movie. Written by EK Pavlat Really--Mark Shea contributes so much in so many different areas in the New Evangelization. Invite him to your parish--he did a wonderful day of talks for us last fall, and his books sold like hot cakes. And here he does another signal service--Flynn and John C.Wright deserve a lot more attention from Catholic readers. Eifelheim is stunning. And Tim Powers. Oh. My. Goodness. If you like a good yarn and a good stretch of the mind--start with Anubis Gates. You will rejoice to find he has so many more... . A treasure in America writing. (And, by the way, he has an article in the latest issue of the revived Catholic apologetics magazine Envoy). Written by Jim McCullough Read it, everybody!!! I read the novelette when it first appeared in Analog, it is great!! Written by Hermann Mark, I really enjoy reading your articles & listening to your podcasts on CE. You have a great gift for higlighting the connections to our faith in places people often times don't expect them to be. I've always been a Tolkein & Lewis fan, but had long since assumed the SF ground had been ceded to the "hard boiled atheiests" as you put it. This article gives me hope, as well as some good recommendations. As one who never technically left the church, but only started taking it seriously in the last 16 months (something about turning 40 and having 3 kids, hmmm), I've been doing a lot of apologetics & church history reading ("By What Authority" is next, I swear!). It will be good to mix it up some with a little thought provoking fiction. Appreciate it. Written by Tom Fennelly Amen to everything you said Mark. I have read and enjoyed all of the authors mentioned and just finished Tim Power's latest "Three days to Never." I do love his novels. Gene Wolfe though is my favorite - what a phenomemal writer he is. I have also read all of John C. Wright's novels and have his latest predordered. From The Golden Age trilogy on I am certainly hooked on him. Same goes for Michael Flynn. Over the years I found my self reading more and more fantasy of the types of epics that Tolkien first gave us. I realized later I was attracted to the worldview of many of these novels because it is distincitively moral for the most part and even if they were the Pagan virtues displayed, they were virtues none the less. But so-called hard SF was my first love and it was Asimov and Clarke that hooked me reading in the first place and their atheism fit right in to my own view at the time anyway.  Written by Jeff Miller I'd like to add the sympathetic treatment of religion in general & Catholicism in particular in "Babylon 5", though it's my understanding Strazinski(sp?) isn't Catholic. Recurring themes of forgiveness, service, and sacrifice made it more than window-dressing. The first two Chronicles of Thomas Covenant (Stephen Donaldson)are not overtly religious, but many of the ethical questions explored in the books are consonant with Catholic morality. (Not for kids.) Written by Cecilia Thanks for mentioning me, Mark, but my name is spelled MIESEL, rhymes with diesel. Such contributions as I made were more in criticism than in fiction. Tim Powers is a wonderful writer! Please, folks, read him if you haven't already done so. Yes, Dean Koontz is Catholic. So were RA Lafferty, James White, and Fred Saberhagen. Lafferty's PAST MASTER and FOURTH MANSIONS are his best novels although he excelled at tall-tale short fiction. Other Christian sf writers include Cordwainer Smith, Zenna Henderson, and Jerry Pournelle. Written by Sandra Miesel THE Sandra Miesel?!? I just want to thank you. According to Gene Wolfe, it was your panel on costuming that gave him his first inspiration to create Severian, the main character in his 'The Book of the New Sun' series. Did you know that? I am sure Mr. Wolfe has mentioned it in print a few times. Anyway, thanks again. Aaron Written by Aaron Singleton Yes, I'm THE Sandra Miesel. Gene is an old friend of many years' standing. In his book of essays, THE CASTLE OF THE OTTER, there's a reference to my daughter's Severian costume. I used to compete in masquerades at sf conventions, but not since 1980. Written by Sandra Miesel |
|
 |
