Aliens of the same world: The Case of Bangla Science Fiction

Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay

Locating Bangla Science Fiction

SF as a genre has always presented problems of definition. Since Gernsback’s “scientifiction”, attempts to define the nature of this genre have been common, so much so that when we refer to District 9 or Avatar as SF, as we did in this seminar, we think we know exactly what we mean. However, when we extend our understanding of SF to include those outside the predominantly Anglo-American (and marginally European) space, I believe we must redefine SF tentatively as an index of cultural transformation which may be understood through what I call the “history of scientificity”. I use the term scientificity as a concept. The colonial era, in which actual political control became the progenitor of a number of myths of science, is an important site for the study of concepts as orienting components – words around which archival and paraxial histories may be constructed. These histories are utilized by the colonizer and the colonized in the context of Bengal in ways that enable different forms of the same discourse: the discourse of legitimacy that gives meaning to the colonial situation. What remains unquestioned in these histories is scientificity itself. The existence of non-relative truths that may be discovered is never under debate. Working on colonial science, one must isolate strands of debate that allow “scientificity” to become enshrined as the principle of political legitimacy for both the colonizer and the colonized while reflecting upon the historicity of the concept itself.

SF is a space where the “transcendental” nature of science merges with its subjective “earthy” historical other in fiction; consequently, one must begin a history of scientificity and unravel when and by what means scientificity becomes an orienting component of the “future history” that is SF. This is as much a question in the history and philosophy of science as it is of modernity and the constitution of the modern self in the development of techno-scientific cultures. Since science functions as a constant field of cultural tension in the asymmetry of colonial relations, SF becomes an invaluable means of exploring the nature of cultural identity shaped by colonization. I have selected one specific kind of SF for analysis here – the category of the tall tale. This is because the tall tale most explicitly engages with the criterion of scientificity and reveals the questions which a history of SF must recognize.

Games of Truth in SF-Tall Tales

The stories of Joseph Jorkens written by Lord Dunsany, Edward Plunkett (1878-1957) and the ones of Ghanada (Ghanashyam Das) written by Premendra Mitra (1904-1988) belong to the category of travel tall tales. Tall tales that base themselves on travel have three basic dimensions. The first is the landscape and people of the travelled land. The second is the object or point of surprise. The third is the character of the storyteller, which defines the tale as a tall tale. The similarities between fantasy, SF, fiction and the tall tale are governed to a large extent by the presentation of the tale. The tall tale becomes a tall tale owing to the relation created between the teller of the tale and the event in which the teller participates. And the fundamental premise of the tall tale is that the tale is always described by the teller as absolutely true, exceeding the boundaries of fiction (which by definition is not-true). Unlike Munchausenesque tall tales, regarded generally as the forerunner of the genre, the similarity between Jorkens and Ghanada emerges in the precision of the narrated tale in scientific terms – including geographical specificity, use of expressions that convey the scientificity and hence seek to attest the truth of the narrated tale, and presentation of ideas and events which in themselves seem logically possible. The veracity of the tale is seldom under doubt due to the events themselves, the doubt emerges from the character of the teller of the tale and the tale itself is then compared to a framework of non-fiction outside the fictional world. All fiction is by definition false, the important part of the tall tale is not that which is clearly false, but that which posits itself as true. Thus if we are to pay attention to the actual source of textual meaning in the tall tale, we must locate it in the probable rather than the incomprehensible, because the latter derives its meaning secondarily from the former. By paying attention only to the locus of improbability, one is likely to miss out on the power effects of the images and ideas taken as true within the fiction.

In the context of the adventure stories described here, the two layers of truth that are particularly important are the presentation of the foreigner and the use of science. In the preface to the first volume of Jorkens’s adventures, the narrator explains that one of the purposes of the stories is to “advance the progress of Science, and establish our knowledge upon a firmer basis; yet should they fail to do so, I feel that they may at least be so fortunate as to add strangeness to parts of our planet, just as it was tending to grow too familiar.”. This is a recurring idea in the Jorkens stories: the impact of these stories on scientific knowledge. But the novelty of the scientific idea is supported by the “familiarity” of the taken for granted, whose scientificity is never in question. Thus even if we mark out the story as a tall tale, the experience of the improbable is only tied to the novum, Darko Suvin’s term for the new object or idea that SF introduces, and not to the cultural assumptions within which the novum is placed. Moreover, the experience of the scientific is exclusively linked to the British colonizer, and indigenous experiences of these objects become irrelevant in the “scientific project”. “The tale of the Abu Laheeb” is a prime example of the way in which the scientific project assimilates local knowledge. In this story, Jorkens travels to the “Empire’s edge”, Sudan, and seeks to hunt the elusive creature known locally as Abu Laheeb that uses fire like humans. The locals who wish to protect their knowledge of this creature from the “white man” refuse to reveal any information concerning the abu laheeb, choosing jokes over “truth”. Jorkens finally meets a white man living by himself in this place, who has managed to extract knowledge from the locals by unknown means. For Jorkens, this white man alone approaches the problem from a scientific perspective, that of a zoologist, who sifts through the many “stories” brought by the natives to find the grain of truth in them. Yet the white man himself is not very forthcoming with information at the beginning: “yes the natives believed in some such animal, but his own opinion he would not expose to the possibility of my ridicule.” Jorkens is thrilled to have the information, and his immediate thought is to be “the first white man that had seen the abu laheeb, and to shoot him and to bring his huge skin home” Jorkens pursues the creature down from the information given by the explorer-zoologist (“the last white man you see as you go through the final fringes of civilization”) and engages in reflections regarding the place, its inhabitants and tribes (the Dinkas). For Jorkens, hunting down the creature appears to be a scientific enterprise: “of all the steps science had taken from out of the early darkness toward that distant point of which we cannot guess, which shall be full of revelations to man, one of her footsteps would be due to me”.  He even considers naming the creature “Prometheus Jorkensi” (16). Jorkens finally discovers the creature, but unsurprisingly, fails to take a picture and is unable to shoot it down.

The fact that the creature is not discovered and is unverifiable makes the whole incident a tall-tale. Yet it is not merely the tale of the creature, but a whole network of assumptions that serves to make it a tall tale. Because it is only by privileging the white man’s knowledge and scientific expertise that one establishes the creature called abu laheeb within the story, and not the stories of the natives, whose stories and beliefs are always already classified as tall tales. It is the British colonizer who names and makes the creature “scientific”. Bruno Latour’s assertion is fully realized in this brief fiction, not as science but as the cultural claim of scientific knowledge which transforms the local into something abstract and fitted into the body of scientific data whose unquestioned master is the white colonizer. And it is not merely this one tale; Dunsany heaps stereotype upon stereotype in almost all of the tales, creating a picture of the East (which covers Africans as much as Asians) that is slow, listless, governed by superstition, Buddha like calm, worshipping false gods and witches, governed by fate, as opposed to the West, which is always higher civilization to the native. These stereotypes abound in much popular literature of the period, particularly as images of degeneration, but what is curious about Jorkens’ adventures is that the untrue is never experienced by his listener in anything but the novum, and Jorkens, despite being considered a teller of tall tales, is at the same time considered a man who has travelled widely. Indeed it is the narrator who is ever at pains to establish the scientificity of all of Jorkens’ tales. And while the novum itself is considered fabricated, the cultural assumptions within which the novum is placed are never realised as such. And despite the accepted superiority of the East in several respects, the main point of challenge and superiority of the West is always ultimately established in terms of science. In another story, “The Electric King”, one of the characters is driven to near-madness by a psychological trauma and he takes refuge in the “wisdom of the East”, namely a Tibetan monastery in the Himalayas to get a cure. The monks are able to cure the character, yet when it comes to utilizing scientific knowledge, the monks are curiously tradition bound and indifferent to the material benefits to be accrued from a change of practice. And their attitude is generalised to represent the homogenous East once again: “I grant you the wisdom of the East: it had saved my reason. But when it comes to organisation, you have to go a long way West for it. God’s own country every time.” The West, particularly Britain, with its healthy materialism is the source, origin and destination of science, independent of location and universal. It is the non-acquisitiveness of the East, it’s bondage to tradition and its spiritual nature that ultimately makes it indifferent both to knowledge and to its use as science.

This is where Ghanada’s tales provide an effective contrast. Also SF, and emerging from a shared field of ideas regarding scientificity and yet subverting ideas regarding the universality of Western scientific knowledge, Ghanada’s tales become a response to the homogenizing stereotypes of Jorkens. One of the first differences that register when one compares the two is that despite the apparent similarity of contextual details – the regular group of listeners, the teller being bribed to tell his stories (whiskey in Jorkens’ case, and food in Ghanada’s), the geographical precision of the place where the tale is set – is that the framework of disbelief in Ghanada exists prior to the tale, and Ghanada does not have a single believer amongst his group of listeners. The frame narrator of Jorkens’ adventures places them in a cast of truth, and only the improbability of the climax makes the adventure a tall tale. Thus in the case of Jorkens, we move from truth of the tale to the impossible/improbable, whereas in the case of Ghanada, we move from total disbelief to a network of real factual details established by Ghanada by means of geographical and scientific precision and back to the event as tall tale. Indeed, by not taking the truth for granted in Ghanada’s tale, one effectively isolates the tale as a tall tale even before it starts. Thus Ghanada’s position mimics the position of the natives in Jorkens’ tales, whose stories are not likely to believed simply by a pre-existing bias regarding the teller.

This equation is the one that is constantly presented in the Ghanada adventures. Ghanada is an adventurer-trader-spy in his many adventures, but he is always at the centre of things in all these adventures. This however is not a position that is given to him automatically; Ghanada generally always encounters at least one white man in all his foreign travels who will refer to him as a “nigger”, “black ghost”, “black mouse” and the like, before a showdown – generally physical – in which the white man loses. Thereafter the centrality of Ghanada is never questioned.

Because the utility and necessity of scientific knowledge is unquestioned and because only the white man is seen as capable of scientific activity, the Jorkens stories become an argument in favour of the colonial enterprise and the structures of science become the bolster for a simplistic hierarchical binary between the coloniser and the colonised. And this binary remains the framework of truth within which the tall tale is placed. Thus Jorkens engages in fantasy making which is inextricable from its colonial structure. Ghanada on the contrary engages in a conscious restatement of a past which is still recognisably colonial, but in which the power equation locally has altered to give not merely space or agency but active control to the native. For instance, in “Glass”, Ghanada proudly declares: “Do you know, if it weren’t for this piece of broken glass the first atom bomb would have dropped on London and not on Hiroshima and Nagasaki?” (28), launching thereafter into a story in which he foils Nazi designs to extract uranium in Angola. In the first two adventures, “Mosquito” and “Insect”, written during the last years of the colonial rule, Ghanada foils an attempt by a mad scientists (Japanese in the first and a German Jew with a grudge in the second) to spread genetically modified insects with great destructive power over all of Europe. In “Hat” Ghanada become the first man to climb Mount Everest and has an adventure with Yetis.

Ghanada meets the challenge posed by Jorkens’ directly. Firstly, he destroys the image of “spiritual East” by fitting into active roles rather than passive reflective ones. Secondly, while the tales of Ghanada are always doubted by his listeners, the precision of the tale and Ghanada’s abundant knowledge of the world – its culture, geography, politics and its languages – always add to the truth of the tale which has been pre-judged as a tall tale. Thirdly, Ghanada in his own way, even as he represents in his own tales the self-asserting native both physically capable, scientifically sound, and materially acquisitive, is quite a bit of a snob whose very pretence of being always the most important man in the piece creates a hierarchical structure vis-à-vis the white man, and in his adventures, he often becomes the only possible saviour of the British and Europe. Importantly though, in Ghanada’s tales the colonial hierarchy is rarely referred to in actual terms, and when it is, Ghanada is politically very much aligned to the British. Ghanada tales are based on a synthetic framework that both utilizes the binary used by Jorkens and subverts it. The foreigner remains foreign, but in becoming more familiar he becomes less alien.

Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay is Kultrans Doctoral Fellow at the Department of Literature, Area Studies and European Languages, University of Oslo. A version of this article has been published as: ”Aliens of the Same World: The Case of Bangla Science Fiction” in Home in Motion:The Shifting Grammar of Self & Stranger. ed. Pedro F. Marcelino (Oxfordshire, UK: Inter-Disciplinary Press, 2011).

 

Bibliography:

Rieder, J., Colonialism and the Emergence of SF, Wesleyan University Press, Connecticut, 2008.

Gernsback, H., ’A New Sort of Magazine’, in Amazing Stories: The Magazine of Scientifiction, Hugo Gernsback (ed), volume 1, no.1, April 1926, p. 3.

Fleck, L., Genesis and Development of a Scientific Fact, Fred Bradley and Thaddeus J. Trenn (trans), Thaddeus J. Trenn and Robert K. Merton (eds), The University of Chicago Press, 1979, p. 105.

Harwood, J., “Ludwik Fleck and the Sociology of Knowledge”, Social Studies of Science, Vol. 16, No. 1, Theme Section: ‘Funding and Knowledge Growth’ Feb.1986, p. 180.

Basalla, G. ”The Spread of Western Science”, Science, vol. 156, May 1967, p. 611-622.

Kopf, D., British Orientalism and the Bengal Renaissance: Dynamics of Indian Modernization, 1773-1835, University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1969.

Vishwanathan, G., Masks of Conquest: Literary Study and British Rule in India, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 1998, p. 15-17

Dasgupta, S., The Bengal Renaissance: Identity and Creativity from Rammohun Roy to Rabindranath Tagore, Permanent Black, Delhi, 2007

Chakraborty, P., “Science, Morality and Nationalism: The Multi-faceted Project of Mahendra Lal Sircar”, Studies in History, vol. 17, no. 2, 2001, p. 245-274.

Raina, Dhruv and S. Irfan Habib, “The unfolding of an engagement: ‘The Dawn’ on science, technical education and industrialisation: India 1896-1912”, Studies in History vol.9, no.1, 1993, p. 87-117.

—, “Bhadralok perceptions of science, technology and cultural nationalism”, Indian Economic and Social History Review, vol. 32, 1995, p. 95-117.

Irfan Habib. S.,“Reconciling Science with Islam in 19th century India”, Contributions to Indian Sociology, vol. 34, 2000, p. 63-92.

Deepak Kumar, “Science and Society in Colonial India: Exploring an Agenda”, Science, Technology and Society, vol.6, no.2, 2001, p. 375-395.

Kochhar, R., “Cultivation of Science in the 19th Century Bengal”, Indian Journal of Physics, vol.82, no.7, July 2008, p. 1003-1082

Cole, P. G., “Constructivism or scientific realism? Which is the better framework for educational research?”, Australian Journal of Teacher Education, vol. 22, no. 1, 1997, p. 41-49

Luckhurst, R., Cultural History of Science fiction, Polity Press, Cambridge, 2005, p. 15-29

Ashley, M., The Time Machines: The Story of Science Fiction Pulp Magazines from the beginning to 1950, Liverpool University Press, Liverpool, 2000

Chattopadhyay, B., ”Jawaharlal Nehru’s Speeches on the Granting of Indian Independence, Milestone Documents in World History, Salem Press, 2010, p. 1470-80.

Dunsany, Lord, ”Preface”, The Travel Tales of Joseph Jorkens, G. P. Putnam’s and Sons, London, 1931.

Suvin, D., ”On the Poetics of the Science Fiction Genre”, College English, vol. 34, no. 3, Dec., 1972

Latour, B., Science in Action: How to follow scientists and engineers through society, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, 1987.

Mitra, P. Mosquito and Other Stories: Ghana-da’s Tall Tales, Amlan Das Gupta (trans.), Penguin, Delhi, 2004.

—, Ghanada Samagra Ek, Surajit Dasgupta (ed), Ananda Publishers, Kolkata, 2000.

 

Science & Fiction

Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay

What is science fiction and what can the genre give us that other genres cannot? This, of course, is to assume that science fiction is a ‘genre’ – something that has been identified, labelled and samples put in a glass jar alongside many other jars in the laboratory of literature. This however is far from the case. There are many definitions of science fiction, but there is none universally agreed upon[i]. The cynics usually refer to it as a marketing label, while enthusiasts call it by many names depending on which species of science fiction they find most sweet. Considering moreover that the term ‘science fiction’ is not in common usage until the 1930s, although coined as far back as 1851 by William Wilson, might make us a bit suspicious of the pretensions of a genre to emerge suddenly and find its niche in the genre tree. There are no “emergences” in literature – movement of language is a productive process and mutation is law. Genres can at best be perceived as mutable mobiles – they have antecedents, precursors, share family resemblances and are perpetually in transformation; even the most exemplary genre object texts are small pins on the charts and tables of literary influence. Note for instance Hugo Gernsback’s definition of ‘scientifiction’ in the magazine Amazing Stories in 1926, which is often understood to have launched the genre: “By scientifiction I mean the Jules Verne, H. G. Wells and Edgar Allan Poe type of story—a charming romance intermingled with scientific fact and prophetic vision.” (Gernsback 1926: 3) Like the narrator in Borges’ Pierre Menard, it is necessary for the reader of the new genre to know who begat who. What makes the retrospective labelling tick is not merely the pedigree, however important that might be in considerations of canonicity, but that it allows the identification of a preformation within which even the most qualitatively new becomes less bizarre. Darko Suvin’s definition of science fiction as the literature of “cognitive estrangement” relies equally on the balance between the estranged and the quotidian – for the radically new cannot be understood except by means of a reference to the old.

While one may indeed be sympathetic to such claims, and also the attempts to give science fiction a long history going back to Ramayana and Lucian’s True History[ii], it is the specific character of the literature labelled as science fiction that is of interest to us. We might take 1851 as a watershed moment – a label first and then the genre that may be understood to fit that label. Such a model solves certain problems, such as that of chronology: anything prior may be classified as part of the same family but belonging to a different genre. It does not however resolve completely however the problem of definition. For instance, can we call Ibsen’s Ghosts or Zola’s Les Rougon-Macquart novels as science fiction, simply because they deal with the now disregarded, but in the late nineteenth century regarded as ‘scientific’, theory of degeneration? There is science and there is a whole lot of fiction. But are they science fiction? Conversely, do we include theories now regarded as unscientific as science fiction?

There are in fact two nested problems in the question of definition. The first is the proliferation of subtypes in science fiction, which makes it possible to label some texts as science fiction from certain perspectives and some other texts from other perspectives; a problem of inclusion and exclusion. The other problem lies in the nature of the alignment between science and fiction, insofar as the definition of science itself is unclear, which makes it impossible to label what is and what is not science fiction[iii]. By resolving (if possible) these two problems we can find the answer to our framing questions. Instead of providing an answer however, this short piece is a less ambitious attempt to identify a possible way of answering these questions. The first I believe can be addressed by means of a classificatory principle, namely that of ‘speculation’, and the second by a methodological principle that clarifies the nature of the science of science fiction.

To begin with the second, constructivism or the sociological approaches to scientific knowledge provide an entry point because these focus on the manipulation of the categories of subjective and objective in the framing of scientific activity. Constructivist approaches, such of Thomas Kuhn, David Bloor and Barry Barnes, highlight the ‘theory ladenness of observation’, that is, what is observed in scientific activity is overdetermined by the theoretical perspective that one utilizes to explain the observation. The Nobel laureate physicist Leon Lederman’s invisible ball metaphor[iv] for scientific activity illustrates this – it is not that the explanation for the invisible ball is not a plausible one or has no connection with the observation, or that the observation itself is dubitable, though any of these is possible depending on the context, but that the explanation is a contingent one. As Bloor explains, reality as perceived through the senses is not denied by the sociologist; however, reality is under-determined by such perception: “because the area of reality being inspected under-determines the scientists understanding, an analysis of their knowledge must further assume the role of organising principles and orientations derived from elsewhere…scientists need their sensory experience of the world, and their natural inductive and deductive tendencies, but these always work through and with their culture, and that is the professional concern of the sociologist” (Bloor 1996: 841). Moreover, there is a continual attempt to establish a static picture of science in which experience and theory form a closed circle of knowledge, with one reflected in the other. Bloor argues that while empirical data does furnish experience and that the reliability of sense data is a precondition for sociological analysis, this experience alone is not knowledge. What gives experience its meaning is a theory, the “organising principles and orientations derived from elsewhere”, which is a social production, and not given along with the experience.

Science in this model is governed by a paradigm, a way of perception that guides research activity. A paradigm is a theoretical model that is adopted by a community of practitioners across multiple fields of research, and which connects all of these. “Normal science” consists of research activity within a paradigm and aimed at adapting, modifying, or testing the limits of the paradigm; it seeks to fit observations within the “conceptual box” of a paradigm. It is not that scientific observation is not dependent on facts; the point is that ‘true’ and ‘false’ beliefs are equally possible in any context and derive from the same source. As Bloor writes, “the acceptance of a theory make[s] it the knowledge of a group, [and] it makes it the basis for their understanding and adaptation to the world” (Bloor 1991: 43), but it does not justify the theory itself as true. The ad-hoc nature of scientific knowledge is a permanent aspect of scientific activity[v].

Thus the difference between what is considered “scientific” activity and other forms of cultural activity is not that the former is aimed at the truth and other kinds of activity are not – it is rather a division of experience across different orders of truth. Wittgenstein had similarly proposed that what differentiated myth from science was the way in which linkages between word and truth are composed. In myth, the linkage assumes the artistic form of simile or allegory; myth does not state facts in a different way, but does not state facts at all from the scientific way of looking. I would like to extend Wittgenstein’s notion of intermediate cause and argue that science is not merely the study of the causes of the things that have come to be but also that it is a way to use causality in speculation. Like myth, and other forms of cultural production, science is a speculative mode of story-telling based on causal manipulation of experience as much as it is about facts. This causal manipulation, also sometimes called extrapolation is always in the future – even where time travel takes us to the ancient prehistoric times, what constitutes the past can either be from what we know in the present (hence not speculation at the time the story is written – making only the means of travel into the past, to be discovered as future technology, science fiction) or it might posit a past we know nothing about (in which case it is the future itself that will reveal this unknown past to us). While experience has an independent existence outside knowledge systems, the survival of experience as knowledge and its communicable form is dependent on the knowledge system. The survival of scientific knowledge is determined not merely by one narrative of experience (the purely sensory) but linguistic and metaphysical narratives among others, which are designated scientific within the particular knowledge system called science. These are the four criteria of science that concern us for science fiction[vi]:

  1. the knowability, or the condition of being known, of the physical world (sensory experience)
  2. functional similarity and replicable result that enables technological futurism (causal extrapolation where the present state of technology and the future state of technology are connected)
  3. conditions of possibility that underlie epistemological futurism (causal extrapolation where present state of knowledge and the future state of knowledge are connected)
  4. the presence of abstracted conditions, or the conditions of scientificity (speculative element that determines what is considered science in any given period)

 What the science in science fiction does therefore is not so much alter our understanding of science (therefore it is not “speculative science”), as throw into relief the speculative nature of scientific activity itself. Science fiction does not participate in science, but it does have a lot to tell us about science as an activity – the predictions of science fiction that become true are by-products of this process of narrativising the speculative element in scientific activity.

To turn now to the fiction of science fiction, the above discussion tried to show that the scientific element is less important in science fiction than the speculative element. The task would be to determine and classify the speculative element. This would automatically exclude all those texts in which science forms an integral part but the scientific elements or the scientific theory utilized is taken as factual at the time the text is produced. This criterion would allow us to separate for instance Ibsen’s Ghosts from Ignatius Donnelly’s Caesar’s Column and Wells’ War of the Worlds from Conrad’s  Heart of Darkness. Conversely, something that is speculative in its own period but subsequently ceases to be so will also be considered science fiction due to its contemporary nature. Everett Bleiler’s massive compendium is perhaps a good starting point, as it lists over 3000 works of science fiction from the earliest times to the present, and he divides his stories into 9 distinct categories, each with several further divisions and subdivision, each of which can stand as a distinct species of science fiction. Critics such as James Gunn have noted the hybrid nature of science fiction: the fact that science fiction may not be understood as one genre but as a hybrid – for instance there can be SF-Western, SF-Crime Thriller, SF-Detective Story and so on. This argument can be used to suggest that science fiction might not perhaps be a genre like other genres – it is a classification of a higher order that encompasses many genres. This argument however is not very useful because the same argument can be used in reverse for these other genres. It is not even necessary to classify SF with reference to other genres – it serves little purpose when genres themselves are constantly under definition and redefinition, and the genre elements under constant distribution and redistribution in the different species. Bleiler’s compendium is a useful toolkit because of its volume and detailed synopses that allow us to isolate speculative elements, but the problem of variety and subtype is highly complex and Bleiler’s charts, despite their rigor, do not cover and are not meant to cover all of science fiction, being merely a study of early science fiction.  If we do indeed reject the sui generis model for literary genres and instead speak about a process by which certain kinds of expressions begin to represent genres, then the issue of transformation becomes as important as the question of difference that allows these representations. We have to understand the relationship between transformations without (transformations as the marks of social change that act upon genres as well as the alteration of ‘forms’ of expressions for the presentation of content) and transformations within (in content itself as it comes to be represented in genres). In other words, we have to locate the nature and situate the basis of speculation itself to speak of science fiction, the genre of transformation par excellence that cannot exist without transforming the nature of our relationship to our own future, and by extension, our perception of the order of things in the material world. As the world transforms, and new sciences come into being, the genre will continue to grow and transform.

Thus, firstly by means of chronology and the creation of a timeline with prospective rather than retrospective labelling, secondly, by a close analysis of the speculative nature of activity termed scientific in any given period, and thirdly by a careful analysis of the speculative elements to separate one kind of narrative utlizing scientific activity or theory from another (even though they might employ the same theory), perhaps we may hope to arrive at a preliminary definition of this genre.

Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay is Kultrans Doctoral Fellow at the Department of Literature, Area Studies and European Languages, University of Oslo.

Notes:

[i] Consider the numerous definitions, some mutually contradictory, given in the 16 page chapter in The Science Fiction Reference Book, edited by Marshall B. Tymn.

[ii] As argued for instance by Adam Roberts in his history of the genre.

[iii] The problem of science of science fiction has hardly received critical attention, despite several volumes with arresting titles and chapter names called “the science of science fiction” or “the science in science fiction”. Martin Willis is one of the few exceptions, and has provided in his recent book Mesmerists, Monsters and Machines: Science Fiction and the Cultures of Science in The Nineteenth Century (Kent, Ohio: The Kent State University Press, 2006) an invaluable critique of the science of science fiction, although limited by his particular choice of historical period.

[iv] Lederman, writing about the quest for the ultimate indivisible particle, or “God particle” higgs-boson, gives the interesting analogy of an alien who can see all colours except white and black watching a football match on earth. The alien is unable to see the football; however, by looking at the apparently random motions of the footballers, the curve on the net when fans shout goal, among other things, the alien is able to hypothesise about the presence of an invisible ball.

[v] More recent work, such as Bruno Latour’s actor network theory further problematise the relationship between science, human agents and technological apparatus used for scientific activity. For Latour, there is no fact outside the artefact – humans and technology exist in ever extending and intertwined networks and what is considered as scientific knowledge depends on the resources that can be channelized in order to transform local experience and knowledge into universal knowledge.

[vi] While some of the arguments presented here talk about science and scientific activity in general, I wish to distance myself from these perspectives and talk only of science to the extent we are dealing with science fiction. Science is a term used for many different kinds of activity, but not all these are relevant for the limited analysis I am attempting here.

Select References:

Bloor, David. Knowledge and Social Imagery. Second Ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991

—. “Idealism and the Sociology of Knowledge.” Social Studies of Science, Vol. 26, No. 4, (Nov., 1996), pp. 839-856.

Gernsback, Hugo. “A New Sort of Magazine”. Amazing Stories: The Magazine of Scientifiction, vol. 1, No. 1 (Apr., 1926), p. 3

Gunn, James. The Science of Science-Fiction Writing. Maryland: Scarecrow Press, 2003.

Kuhn, Thomas S. —. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Third Ed. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1996.

Latour, Bruno. Science in Action: How to follow Scientists and Engineers through Society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987.

Lederman, Leon and Dick Teresi. The God Particle: If the Universe is the Answer, What is the  Question? New York: Mariner/Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2006.

Suvin, Darko. “On the Poetics of the Science Fiction Genre.” College English, Vol. 34, No. 3 (Dec., 1972), pp. 372-382.

Tymn, Marshall B. (ed.) The Science Fiction Reference Book. Washington: Starmont House, 1981.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. “I: A Lecture on Ethics I: A Lecture on Ethics.” The Philosophical Review, Vol. 74, No. 1 (Jan., 1965), pp. 3-12.

Bleiler, Everett F. Science Fiction: The Early Years. Kent, Ohio: The Kent State University Press, 1990.

Roberts, Adam. The History of Science Fiction. Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005.