My interests tend to be thematic, consciously or unconsciously. So I read Inferno by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle, and then Surface Detail by Ian M. Banks and then This is the End by Seth Rogen and Friends to cap it all off. I did not really intend to focus on hell, it just kind of happened that way.
Inferno has been on my to-read shelf forever, and only, as it turns out, because I forgot I read it twenty years ago at camp when I was buying used classic SF at the McCall, ID library sales like it was going out of style. Which it had.
I don't always read with too many metrics in mind, but these days there is usually one: is this book good enough to pack up in a box and move with me? Largely because I got tired of moving so many boxes of books, and while my books are precious to me, if I'm being honest not all of them will be read again or recommended to friends, so I don't need to throw out my back for them. Hoarding also runs in my family*, so I try to be careful.
Inferno, sadly, did not pass this metric until the last 2 pages, which gave me pause before I heaved it to the "not staying" box. For one, it's steeped with in jokes from the life of an SF writer as filtered through conventions, so it feels like it's written for a very select crowd of people who've gotten drunk with Niven and Pournelle, a group which does not count me in their number, as I was born the year it was written and I believe the family doctor contraindicated both alcohol and socializing with SF authors in my first year.
Otherwise, it's a more or less enjoyable re-telling of Dante's classic, with an odd digression of venom directed at Vonnegut, who I guess wasn't popular among SF nerds at the time. The main complaint was that he talked in baby talk and his SF conceits were BABY SF, not even college level. I think they were just mad he was classified as SF by some but also popular at parties. I say this with much love for SF and SF communities, but the pathologies of insecurity and in-group behavior are very real even there.
What swung me around on the last two pages was the realization of the main character that Hell was yet another chance to be saved, which is an idea I have liked for a long time, but had forgotten I had picked it up from Larry Niven as I read SF by myself on the shores of Payette Lake in McCall, Idaho. I think one of the reasons I ended up my childhood religion as offered was partly the idea that an all-powerful god was so bad at creating a compelling case to be good and then so punitive regarding failure, a failure that could have easily been avoided by a, uh, more attentive celestial guardian.
So I like the idea that Hell was just another place to "figure it out" because I like the idea that God really never gives up and that given infinite time and infinite patience he/she/it would try to keep getting people to change. Once they've shuffled off the mortal coil and are left with an immortal soul that can still learn and change, what's the hurry? I think constructing a hell is a bit much and potentially counter-productive, but I do like the idea that any redemptive god that exists would never truly give up, although there are disturbing aspects to that too, if you take it far enough. What if they don't want to change and prefer obliteration if they have the choice? Anyway, I liked it for prompting me to think even this much in the last 2 pages so it goes on the "maybe" pile.
Surface Detail is the second to last Culture book and I am sad to be almost done with the series. There was no question of keeping this one, I adore the culture books and this will go on the golden shelf devoted to Ian Banks with all the rest. I went in blind though, and was surprised to discover it was yet another book about hell.
The Culture books have slowly built up a sketched-out mythology of sublimed races and virtual afterlives, playing a little fast and loose with the idea that copied mind states are truly souls that experience a continuous existence between death and the virtual afterlife. The Culture is a radically left and vaguely liberal/libertarian society in the galactic culture at large, and the other races tend to resent the holier-than-thou attitude and relentless do-gooding, especially when the Culture has blood on its hands too. So the ongoing existence of virtual hells, where the deceased, or at least perfect copies of their minds, are quite intentionally tortured forever by computer simulations, presents a source of considerable friction between the culture and like-minded do gooders and races still deeply invested in punishing the "wicked" in the afterlife, even if they have to do it themselves. They agree to resolve the dispute in a virtual war over hell, which mostly concerns the stored minds of the dead, but it all too quickly spills over into the Real as one side begans to fear it is losing.
The story is fun, the characters delightful (especially my perpetual favorites the ships). But it was the stuff about the hells that kept me thinking along the same train of thought as the previous book. Why do that? Why given the chance to create heaven, create hell instead? Leading directly to the obviously conclusion of: why do we insist on creating hell on earth? The greater our technological powers grow the fewer excuses we have, so why? I honestly don't think we have a good answer anymore.
This is the End I have been meaning to watch for years and finally got around to it. As a child of a dark and depressing apocalyptic religion it was right up my alley. It is extremely self-indulgent so I hope you really find Seth Rogen and James Franco charming because it's just them and their friends farting around. That said, it is also pretty funny. It's a pretty light movie despite the darkness of the theme, but there's still a "are we good people?" aspect that necessarily comes up in any sort of christian apocalypse. They eventually figure out that self-sacrifice is the way to a guaranteed blue beam to paradise, which they enact with varying degrees of success. I don't know, I enjoyed it almost in spite of myself.
The part that interested me was how they were all people who had vaguely paid attention to religious upbringing trying to figure out how to deal with all of that turning out to be real with half-remembered lessons from the Exorcist and hazy memories of church. I mean, in that scenario they're basically boned, at least in any Final Judgement worth it's name, but it's kind of fascinating to watch pampered hollywood dudes bring up the idea, even in jest, to even wonder "are we good people? Should we try? Why or why not? Please leave your answer in the form of a 2-hour movie".
I have just recalled, the universe being a heavy-handed pedant, that I watched the second season of "the Good Place" just before reading Inferno. Which is also all about where we go when we die and why. There is so much to say abut the Good Place, but I don't know how to do it without spoiling it. So I'll just mention the part that struck me was the title of one of Chidi's lectures entitled, "what do we owe each other?" as a basis for a multi-part discussion on ethics. "What do we owe each other?" is a very good question.
So that was my weekend on hell. Now all that's left is to figure out: Am I a good person? What does that mean? How would I know? Why would I try that?
I think I am just being reminded that I should crack a book or two about ethics in the near future. Heavy. Handed. Pedant.
*My grandmother's sister, when she died, had a real-estate empire, but also houses and properties just full of hoarded rubbish like stacks of old newspapers, tended by a small pride of housecats. Her kids thought it would take years to sort and sell it all, and as far as I know it is still ongoing. So yeah, I try to be careful with my "I must have and keep that" impulses which are non-trivial compulsions in my life.
Monday, September 17, 2018
Thursday, September 06, 2018
And so
One of the joys of bisexual life is watching your last guy crush and your girl crush get together, leaving you to ponder the folly of the universe and yourself in particular. Because obviously neither of them thought about you too much and you've been kind of a grumpy asshole anyway and who were you kidding?
I go through cycles where I get fixated on someone that, in retrospect was never going to work out, which plays out the same way every time. So now I have some big dumb feelings that need to run their big dumb course. Of course. Again.
It feels like the universe is so bored with teaching me with this lesson that it really half-assed it this time. My nose rubbed in it as if to say, "No! Bad dog! Jesus Fucking Christ, learn the lesson!"
I'm bored with it too, tbh. I know better. When I'm taking care of myself I'm less of a freakshow and tend to click with people better. And I know the click is what I'm going for. Meeting someone and just feeling the connection at some point. You get me, I get you and we will be spending some time together. Or, you smell like home to me and I smell like home to you and we will be spending a lot of time together. Probably naked. Preferably both, but either works.
God, I really let things go this time. Not my finest hour. I complain, but this is the life I've been building for myself. So ... time for some creative destruction I guess.
On the bright side I've recently realized I've been getting sub-par sleep for MONTHS* and have a fix in place starting this week, so I can hopefully look forward to a more awake, less moody context to operate in. I was hoping to start last night but forgot my cat was debuting her new play "At Night we Howl" with repeat performances on the hour. Alas.
*The thing about sleep apnea is it kind of sneaks up on you. One day you just realize you're always exhausted and have been for a while.
I go through cycles where I get fixated on someone that, in retrospect was never going to work out, which plays out the same way every time. So now I have some big dumb feelings that need to run their big dumb course. Of course. Again.
It feels like the universe is so bored with teaching me with this lesson that it really half-assed it this time. My nose rubbed in it as if to say, "No! Bad dog! Jesus Fucking Christ, learn the lesson!"
I'm bored with it too, tbh. I know better. When I'm taking care of myself I'm less of a freakshow and tend to click with people better. And I know the click is what I'm going for. Meeting someone and just feeling the connection at some point. You get me, I get you and we will be spending some time together. Or, you smell like home to me and I smell like home to you and we will be spending a lot of time together. Probably naked. Preferably both, but either works.
God, I really let things go this time. Not my finest hour. I complain, but this is the life I've been building for myself. So ... time for some creative destruction I guess.
On the bright side I've recently realized I've been getting sub-par sleep for MONTHS* and have a fix in place starting this week, so I can hopefully look forward to a more awake, less moody context to operate in. I was hoping to start last night but forgot my cat was debuting her new play "At Night we Howl" with repeat performances on the hour. Alas.
*The thing about sleep apnea is it kind of sneaks up on you. One day you just realize you're always exhausted and have been for a while.
We're on the Road to Nowhere
I just finished Matter by Ian Banks and enjoyed it tremendously. I was browsing some reviews though, and someone said something along the lines of "why does this novel exist? Anything that needs to be said about the Culture has already been said." I was immediately reminded that while I love books, I do not always love the way the culture around books talks about books.
I think there is this idea, which I consider ill-advised at best, pretentious and snobby at worst, that thinks ideas in SF have to be new and fresh. New and fresh ideas are a grand thing and they certainly drive important things to the continuation of publishing houses like sales, but I'm not entirely certain every story has to contain a vital uniqueness to be worthwhile. There is this sense that the ideas in SF. They are going Somewhere and we can't muck about with things we have already discussed when we have to Get There.
Is this true? Are we Getting Somewhere in SF? Are we progressing to an Important Revelation before we die? Is it urgent we get there, mortality still an undeniable reality for biological organisms on this planet? Is "I like this world and like to linger here a while" not sufficient? It is for me, but maybe my tastes are simple. At least, it works for me at the moment. In general I think it's wiser in reviewing books (as Austin Kleon once advised) just to say "this wasn't for me." if you didn't like it. This Didn't Move the Genre Forward in Ways I Think are Important is a fine to argue I suppose, but it rests on more precarious pedestal and obligates more argumentation in support. You basically need to define the start and end points in order to argue for the concept of "forward" for one thing. Where do you think all this is going? Why do you think it is important?
This is all small beans of course. Just part of the greater We Are Getting Somewhere mindset that our civilization is steadily marching towards in a hundred different directions. Progress! Well, iteration, the concept we most like to confuse with progress. Progress of course is a term we like to leave as nebulous as possible so it can reasonably be applied as a descriptor to "the Next Thing I Want to Do."
Are cell phones progressing? Does each new iteration of the iphone get us somewhere? Will the Ultimate iPhones eventually save us all? Is new always better. Is 2.0 generally a categorical improvement of 1.0? Technically it's just the thing that came later, isn't it?
Medical technology is advancing, but what does that mean? We are surely more adept at saving and extending life that we used to be, which is great. But for everyone? Are we better at delivering medical care to more people? If we save their life but leave them bankrupt have we not just destroyed their life in another way? Is it possible that is the more important measure of progress in the medical field?
The sciences in general seem more amenable to a straightforward definition of progress in the steady accumulation of knowledge. Bringing this back around to literature, how would you define progress in literature? How does SF progress? How does Fantasy progress? How does Romance progress? How would you possibly define progress here anyway? I mean theoretically you might say it helps increase our knowledge of the human condition by relating aspects of the same. So maybe it helps us be better people, although, of course, not necessarily!
So how are we progressing as People? What's the point of iterating concepts or technology towards some nebulous goal if we are still petty jerks about everything? What's the point of anything if we aren't better people by the end of it? And how would we define that? Do we all need to agree on what that means or just have a defensible definition?
What are we building here? What important goal are we working towards before we die? In what ways would trying to answer those questions be counterproductive? People talk about it like they know, but I don't think they do. We're too busy talking about what's next instead of what's good.
I think there is this idea, which I consider ill-advised at best, pretentious and snobby at worst, that thinks ideas in SF have to be new and fresh. New and fresh ideas are a grand thing and they certainly drive important things to the continuation of publishing houses like sales, but I'm not entirely certain every story has to contain a vital uniqueness to be worthwhile. There is this sense that the ideas in SF. They are going Somewhere and we can't muck about with things we have already discussed when we have to Get There.
Is this true? Are we Getting Somewhere in SF? Are we progressing to an Important Revelation before we die? Is it urgent we get there, mortality still an undeniable reality for biological organisms on this planet? Is "I like this world and like to linger here a while" not sufficient? It is for me, but maybe my tastes are simple. At least, it works for me at the moment. In general I think it's wiser in reviewing books (as Austin Kleon once advised) just to say "this wasn't for me." if you didn't like it. This Didn't Move the Genre Forward in Ways I Think are Important is a fine to argue I suppose, but it rests on more precarious pedestal and obligates more argumentation in support. You basically need to define the start and end points in order to argue for the concept of "forward" for one thing. Where do you think all this is going? Why do you think it is important?
This is all small beans of course. Just part of the greater We Are Getting Somewhere mindset that our civilization is steadily marching towards in a hundred different directions. Progress! Well, iteration, the concept we most like to confuse with progress. Progress of course is a term we like to leave as nebulous as possible so it can reasonably be applied as a descriptor to "the Next Thing I Want to Do."
Are cell phones progressing? Does each new iteration of the iphone get us somewhere? Will the Ultimate iPhones eventually save us all? Is new always better. Is 2.0 generally a categorical improvement of 1.0? Technically it's just the thing that came later, isn't it?
Medical technology is advancing, but what does that mean? We are surely more adept at saving and extending life that we used to be, which is great. But for everyone? Are we better at delivering medical care to more people? If we save their life but leave them bankrupt have we not just destroyed their life in another way? Is it possible that is the more important measure of progress in the medical field?
The sciences in general seem more amenable to a straightforward definition of progress in the steady accumulation of knowledge. Bringing this back around to literature, how would you define progress in literature? How does SF progress? How does Fantasy progress? How does Romance progress? How would you possibly define progress here anyway? I mean theoretically you might say it helps increase our knowledge of the human condition by relating aspects of the same. So maybe it helps us be better people, although, of course, not necessarily!
So how are we progressing as People? What's the point of iterating concepts or technology towards some nebulous goal if we are still petty jerks about everything? What's the point of anything if we aren't better people by the end of it? And how would we define that? Do we all need to agree on what that means or just have a defensible definition?
What are we building here? What important goal are we working towards before we die? In what ways would trying to answer those questions be counterproductive? People talk about it like they know, but I don't think they do. We're too busy talking about what's next instead of what's good.
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