the middle knitter

(Cross-posted from my LiveJournal to provide some content over here. There will be knitting etc. as soon as I get off my butt to photograph it.)

How on earth do people deal with concept-based science fiction?

When I tell people I'm interested in sci-fi, I often end up in a conversation during which I have to explain that, no, I actually haven't read much of anything by Asimov . . . or, actually, any other of the greats. I try to explain that it's just that I prefer something character-based, like Orson Scott Card, but I always end up feeling a little embarrassed.

So, a little while ago, I checked out Starfarers, by Poul Anderson. I'd heard of him, and cover quoted USA Today as calling him, "One of science fiction's most revered writers," so I figured it would be a decent place to start reading some 'hard' sci-fi.

. . . I tried, people. I really did.

I sifted through the first few pages of unconnected vignettes that didn't actually introduce any of the characters who had been listed in the dramatis personae helpfully provided at the front of the book, but had several talking heads setting up the stage for the ideas to come. Then I suffered through a long and very technical account of a television interview with a physicist which was clearly just as much an attempt to introduce the concepts the book was focusing on as it was relevant to the plot.

Finally, the scene jumped again, and I saw several repair men watching the plot point soaring through the sky. They talk about how they'll brag to their grandchildren about seeing the sight. And then, one of them says to the other, "That is what they are lately calling the quantum field gate drive. Have you not heard? A ship springs from the energy state normal in this universe, what they call the zero level, to the superhigh energy level it gets from below the universe, and then falls back to down again to normal, over and over."

I couldn't take it. I snapped the book shut. Setting aside the fact that the 'interview' (read: thinly veiled exposition of the science behind the story) already covered this ground--and I could forgive it more easily there, because it was a physicist being asked to explain his theories--people don't talk like this. Not in casual conversation. And the fact that these are yet more throw-away characters makes it even more annoying. Their purpose is to appear, convey information, then never be thought of again.

My creative writing teacher last semester had a quote she loved, and I'm kicking myself for forgetting the exact wording, but it was something along the lines of, "The worst purpose of dialogue is to convey information. 'You know why we're on this space station, Caruthers--to save the world!'"

I can see that if I'd hung on one more page, I would have started to meet the real characters of the book. But that's no good for me--you don't get 23 pages to win a reader over. The fact that only the ancestors of the main characters appear in the first chapter, plus all that emphasis on technical detail, makes it clear that this book has very different priorities than the kind of books I read. I'm sure it's a great book for the kind of book it is, but I want to read books about people. I like science fiction and fantasy because they provide vehicles for exploring things about people. I don't read for the spaceships.

Likewise, I don't read fantasy for the swords and elves. As far as I'm concerned, Tolkien and all the millions of cheap imitations he spawned fall into the same category, only in this case the author is saying, "Look at this cool culture I made up!" instead of, "Look at this cool science I dreamed up!" So, instead of having a first chapter full of characters espousing scientific theory, you have a first chapter that tells you everything you ever wanted to know about Hobbits. (Incidentally, though, that chapter was the only thing I liked about that book.) And I know I shouldn't criticize these books, because they're doing what they set out to do, and I can't try to make them do what I want them to do.

But it frustrates me, because speculative fiction has so much potential. Creating an alternate reality is a tried and true method of exploring human nature in our own world. Sometimes this can be overdone to the point of preachiness, which is also distasteful--see Ursula K. Le Guin's Left Hand of Darkness. Actually, I just read her Gifts, which is much more subtle, and is, unsurpisingly, classified as young adult. I love young adult fantasy. It does such a better job of saying something that means something than most adult fantasy or sci-fi. If I ever do get around to becoming an author, that's what I'll write.

Anyway, I'm guessing this is a side-effect of my being in humanities instead of science--I feel like the only stories worth telling are about people first and concepts second.

Wow. Apparently I should post more often. I've been fielding tons of spam over the past week or so, and as soon as I made that last post, it came down to a much more manageable amount. (I know I should install some sort of spam protection over here, but uploading any significant number of files on dialup is such a hassle. I'm waiting until I get back to school in the fall to make some technical updates around here.)

At any rate, I don't have any photos of my recent projects, but I do have some pictures that I've been meaning to upload for over a month now. I snapped these during finals and moveout--it's the final load of what I send to Afghans for Afghans.

30 pairs of socks and 11 hats. On the bottom right, the three bottom hats and three pairs of socks were donated by other students. I kind of wish I'd had more involvement, but ah well. That's still a whopping 300 warm toes and 22 warm ears.

Excuse the mess. This was taken during move-out, and nothing's every pretty when you're packing up everything you own, especially when you live 3,000+ miles away from school. The top afghan was a collaborative donation from my school's fledgling Stitch 'n' Bitch club, and it makes me so happy! The bottom one is my first granny square afghan. (It had some truly horrible and bizarre color combinations, since it was basically made out of every scrap of worsted weight wool I could get my hands on . . . but it didn't look as bad as it could have.)

In other, truly exciting news, in just over two weeks, I'm going to Vietnam! A close friend from school is Vietnamese, and she invited me to come along with her on their trip this summer. I am psyched. I'll be taking my computer, so assuming I can find an Internet connection, there will be blogging and photos.