Science Fiction Fandom and Global Power

People outside the Science Fiction world are probably entirely unaware of the current controversy engulfing the SF world. However, I think both the scandal and more to the point, the reactions to it, say quite a lot about a real lack of awareness of currents of imperialism and global soft power. “Soft power” is a term that refers to cultural forms of dominance and influence in the world system, as opposed to military-political “hard power”.

I need to (very briefly) outline what happened, at least as I understand at. I am not going to personalize this because, outside of the SF communities, the personal aspects are not really the point. The most prestigious SF award in the anglophone SF world are those given by the paying members of the annual World Science Fiction Convention (or WorldCon). These are called the Hugo Awards, after Golden Age SF writer and editor, Hugo Gernsbach. Now, despite the name of WorldCon, in its origins and in its membership, WorldCon is predominantly American and anglophone. There are many other anglophone SF awards, American and otherwise, and there are many other non-anglophone awards. But both because of American imperial dominance, particularly in the field of science and technology, and the because America has historically been the largest core constituency of SF, certainly in the anglophone world, the Hugos retain a prestige out of all proportion to their actual representation of the SF world. They are my least favourite SF awards and the best comparison is the way that the Oscars still dominate popular perceptions of the film world, except that these “Oscars” are voted for by (self-selected) “ordinary fans” not by a (selected) Academy.

WorldCon moves around. Basically, fan communities in a particular city and country bid for it and increasingly it has moved outside the USA. For the 2023 WorldCon, for the first time, a Chinese city, Chengdu, was selected to host the event.

What you also need to understand about the Hugos is that while the voting may be “open” and conducted by fans, the organization of the voting, the counting and all the behind-the-scenes activity is done by “volunteers” who in many cases have retained the position by turning up and knowing how things work better than anyone else, in other words by a self-perpetuating and exclusionary system of inside knowledge.

Of course, the sinophone and Chinese SF fan community is an almost entirely different cultural-linguistic group from the anglophone American SF fan community with relatively little overlap. Add to this the difficulties and dilemmas, real and imagined, of a largely ignorant foreign volunteer-run conference in an authoritarian county, and the scene was set for a shitshow.

The conference itself went relatively smoothly at the time, but how much a shitshow it really was is only now being revealed. The nomination and voting statistics are supposed to be released relatively soon after the conference, but it was not until the last minute of the allowable time that they appeared, and not only were many of the figure dubious to the point of being impossible, several big names had been excluded from some categories, of particular note being Chinese-American authors. No reason was given for their exlcusion and inquiries to the organizers were met with a combination of obduracy, rudeness and lies.

Now, we have even more information and it seemed that even more was going on behind the scenes. Not only did the organizers know exactly why those excluded were treated this way, but many others were excluded of whom we had no previous knowledge. These latter works and people were exclusively sinophone, and the reasoning was that the largest Chinese SF magazine had published a guide to the Hugo Awards including lists of suggestions for each category. The organizers decided that this constituted a “slate” designed to influence voting en masse, and therefore excluded most of the works promoted this way.

And the anglophone works excluded? Well, yes, of course it was done because the works contained themes or politics that could be offensive to the Chinese government, or people who had made statements that could also be interpreted that way (pro-Taiwan, pro-Tibet etc.).

However, what also seems clear is that none of this was done because of any direct pressure from any level of Chinese government, but what seems to have been anticipatory conformity by the organizers: they assessed both works and people for what might possibly cause problems in China; they decided that Chinese fans voting constituted a “slate.” And in doing so they managed to offend everyone.

My thoughts about this diverge markedly from most of the anglophone criticism I have seen, right or left, mostly because almost all of the critics are basing their criticism on very domestic American political assumptions about what is going on and what is at stake. So let me set these thoughts out clearly:

  1. The Hugo Awards are fundamentally anglophone and American and have always been this way.
  2. The awards would be better if this limitation was accepted – especially by anglophones & Americans.
  3. The problem is that American imperialism and soft power projection is basically accepted by Americans of most mainstream political persuasions. They don’t see the problem and then are surprised when contradictions emerge.
  4. Of course, if you try to bodge the anglophone / American SF world together with another global language / power-based SF community, there are going to be problems. And sure, the solution arrived at by the organizers (secret ballot-rigging and pre-emptive self-censorship) was the worst one.
  5. However, contrary to what well-meaning liberal American SF critics seem to think: it simply isn’t the case that you could have just had a free and happy democratic vote comparing the best Anglophone and Sinophone SF.
  6. This is for so many reasons. Mostly it’s not about authoritarianism versus democracy, but simply because the vast majority of both communities cannot actually read and understand the works produced by the other, and particularly not from the anglophone side.
  7. The situation is incredibly unbalanced: if you look a statistics on global translation, there are vanishingly few Chinese to English translated fictional works of any kind, and SF is a small subset of this. There are a lot more english language works translated in Chinese but it’s still a very small proportion of the total.
  8. And let’s look at power here. China is not an oppressed nation. It’s one of the three global power centres of the C21st (USA / China / EU). You can’t use American racial categories to judge global politics and international relations. China in the world is not the equivalent of Chinese- or Asian-Americans in the USA.
  9. So this is not about “racism” in the American sense; it’s about how naive and idealized notions of a single global SF community that is in material reality no such thing, butt up against the limits of liberal cultural imperialism and global soft power in a tripolar world.
  10. So: stop trying to make the Hugo Awards global. Keep them American and anglophone, not because of racism and nationalism, but precisely to acknowledge the cultural imperialism that inevitably is involved with projects to make things global when they are manifestly not so.

My favourite SFF of the Year 2019

I’ve seen a lot of posts remarking on how good this year was for science fiction and fantasy. For me it wasn’t, overall, anywhere near as good as 2018, but this may be because I mainly read SF and not so much fantasy and there does seem to have been a lot of new fantasy published this year – most of which passed me by. I also tend to read on the edge of ‘genre SF’ and read as much slipstream, ‘speculative fiction’ and ‘non-genre SF’ – i.e. fiction that is classified as mainstream or literary fiction but is actually science fiction pretending not to be.

On to the list. Accidentally in common with all the best awards this season, I have a tie at the top. Two very different books that I loved for very different reasons, although perhaps they are both about what the point of life is, when it comes down to it.

1= Infinite Detail – Tim Maughan.

1= Lent – Jo Walton.

Tim Maughan’s is a debut novel, but it’s not some ingenue production. Maughan has been writing memorable, biting short stories for some time now, and his work as a technology reporter for the BBC and Motherboard has been important. So a lot of people have been waiting for this debut with some anticipation. And it doesn’t disappoint. Set in Bristol, UK and New York, Infinite Detail is about the the world before and after the Internet, about what holds us together and the damage done by corporate network capitalism. It would be dystopian if it wasn’t ultimately hopeful about humanity, albeit in twisted ways. Oh, and there’s jungle. Back in the 1990s in the UK, jungle music sounded like the future. It still does because the world hasn’t caught up with it. Maughan, who amongst his many talents is also a DJ, understands music (as well as technology) more than most SF writers, and if you’re wondering, ‘why Bristol?’, well music has a lot to do with it.

Jo Walton’s Lent is not set in Bristol, nor in the future. There is certainly no jungle. Instead we are transported (and we really are) to the Italian city-state of Firenze at the end of the Middle Ages. In what is clearly a labour of love for Walton, we are inside the life of the historically real, Girolamo Savonarola, a monk, a visionary and a trouble-maker, who briefly ruled the city as a kind of Christian utopian republic before being condemned for heresy by the Pope and burned at the stake. We meet him expelling demons, which seem to be real and everywhere… to him. His life passes normally, as in our world, and then it gets suddenly darker and stranger and more mediaeval. This is a novel and a world that is not just inspired by but infused with the cosmology and theology of mediaeval European Christianity. Demons are real. Hell is real. Very real. We see Savonarola cast back into life again and again, trying to work out what he did wrong, what he could do differently, if there is any escape for such as him. Along the way we get to know the lovingly-drawn characters of those who play a part in his life, notably Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, and she brings the city, its politics and its people to colourful life. I don’t think I’ve read anything quite like Lent. It defies genre labels.

The rest of my Top 10:

3. This is How You Lose the Time War – Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Brilliantly written two-handed novel that charts the growing fascination and utlimately love between two transhuman female protagonists in an eon-spanning war to redefine the social, political and physical structure of the galaxy. I was somewhat uneasy about the whole ‘two people find true love over the bodies of millions dead’ plot but it’s so well done that it’s hard not to be pulled along.

4. Rosewater Redemption – Tade Thompson

The finale of a the Wormwood Trilogy that follows the impact of an alien technology / biology on Nigeria. The whole sequence is such an original fusion of cyberpunk, first contact novel and Afrofuturism, and it has great characters and the writing enables you to see, feel, smell both Nigeria in transformation and the alien virtual reality of the ‘xenosphere.’ Some final novels disappoint; this one does not.

5. Escaping Exodus – Nicky Dryden

An author that was new to me this year, although this is not their first novel. I also read it right at the end of the year so it sneaked on to my list at the last minute. Escaping Exodus is an extravagant, bold science fantasy, set in an ark-like deep space ‘ship’ that is actually a massive living being, being gradually consumed from the inside by its human residents / parasites. Aside from the obvious environmental metaphor, the novel is also the personal and political story of two young women from either side of the tracks, in a matriarchal, highly class-divided African-descended society. Really quite extraordinary.

6. The Memory Police – Yuko Ogawa

In complete contrast to many other novels on this list, the mood of Ogawa’s novel is gentle and quiet but at the same time menacing and sinister. It is set on an island, on which things are gradually disappearing and are (intentionally?) wiped from memories of the inhabitants. The losses are enforced by the Memory Police, who arrest and disappear people who refuse to forget and those who help them. The end is inevitable and reminds us how much we must not be passive in the face of fascism, however quietly it comes.

7. The Future of Another Timeline – Annalee Newitz

Another feminist SF novel that plays with time – is that the third one on the list already? I didn’t like Autonomous, Newitz’s first novel, as much as some people, but this one is very strong. It moves from teen riot-grrl subculture to an ongoing fight through timelines over women’s rights. The only beef I had with it was why it was that American concerns, history and politics seemed to determine the timeline for the entire world – surely the struggles of women are global and other worlds are possible…

8. Atlas Alone – Emma Newman

Also set on an ark of sorts, Atlas Alone is the latest in a series of connected but not sequential novels that began with Planetfall. In this one, we focus on a character who was a bit-part player in previous novels, Dee, a gamer, who finds that she is the one being played, and with devastating consequences.

9. Kingdom of Copper – S.A Chakraborty

This big, sweeping, romantic fantasy set in and round the kingdom of the djinn continues to be everything it sets out to be. Stuff like this isn’t usually my cup of tea, but it is all done so well in these books, you just have to let yourself go.

10 Luna: Moon Rising – Ian McDonald

Northern Ireland’s answer to Kim Stanley Robinson finishes off his Luna sequence featuring warring corporations on the near-future moon. The plot is too complicated to summarize but basically follows the remaining members of the Brazilian Corta family as they try to recover from the loss of everything they had and to transform Luna society for good.

 

Other good things I read this year: Storm of Locusts by Rebecca Roanhorse is the second in this indigenous American author’s Sixth World series and I like Maggie, the protagonist, and the characters of the gods, but it was a bit too Mad Max-esque to be entirely satisfying; The Haunting of Tram Car 015, another fun novella in P. Djéli Clarke’s Egyptian steampunk with djinn world; Interference by Sue Burke, the sequel to Semiosis, which was not quite as startling as the first; To be Taught, if Fortunate by Becky Chambers, which was good, but the problem when you’ve just finished a sequence as good as the one she previously wrote, is that nothing seems as good in comparison; Ascent to Godhood by JY Yang, was okay but it didn’t seem a very necessary addition to the Tensorate world; and A Memory called Empire by Arkady Martine, which a lot of other people raved about but which I thought it was merely quite good.