I have been reviewing the meaning of science fiction in relation to my prior post. Science fiction is a genre like the Western, but it is not genre like Mystery. Mystery is a form of story, but its concrete content is unlimited. Science Fiction, like The Western is defined by its concrete content, but its form of story is unlimited. But unlike the blend of Science Fiction and Western (a la Firefly) a blend of science fiction and mystery is a different pairing. In Aristotelean terms the mystery would be the form and the SF the matter.
Science fiction is defined by its props – plain and simple. It is the only way to get something like STAR WARS and Hal Clement’s A MISSION OF GRAVITY into the same genre. There are sub-genres of science fiction that do not have the same props but still fall under the classification of SF. That is a future post.
How does this relate to Victor Hugo? And do I have enough time left before I am called away from the computer? And does anyone care?
I am seeking to make a matter/form distinction in regards to science fiction. I love the matter of science fiction: the weapons, the ships, the technology (as long as it is a prop, I don’t want some 10 page exposition on some device, I bought the lightsaber now just get on with it) the wildness of it. I love how you can be in one part of the galaxy and walk through a door at the top of a mountain and come out the other side 20 trillion miles away. I love the speculation.
What I don’t love is its form. Its form is dry and crusty. It has none of the romanticism that Hugo had (or even Dostoyevsky). Sure, the pulps were a direct descendant of the earlier romanticism, but only in a cartoonish way.
Note: This is all a generality. There are notable exceptions, and most of the works of science fiction I have read are an admixture of these elements.
Damn, out of time again!
I think a [please note my use of the indefinite article] defining aspect of science fiction is that it encompasses a broader imaginative canvas than stories based in the constrained everyday reality we are familiar with. In this way, science fiction is closer to dreams in its preternatural content than many other genres. Though this allows such stories to be the tallest of tales, it does not mean that anything goes. The stories still have to resonate according to the layout of our emotional and intellectual bearings; the components must fit into frameworks that seem to makes sense — even allowing for a portion of unresolved mystery.
Cognates of the science fiction genre are fairy tales, mythology, and fantasy in general. My pointing out the affiliation is not meant to disparage any of these categories.
How’s that for stating the obvious?
By the way, “makes” = “make” above.
Sorry, Chi, I have been away from here for several weeks. I have been in the middle of questioning my entire atheistic/naturalist worldview quite thoroughly and vigorously. It has started to get interesting recently, so the absence.
As per the comment. In a way it’s obvious, but in another way it is not. Science fiction properly belongs in the same family as most literature historically. While the stories constrained of everyday realities are a separate phenomena that require defining. At least the ones that manage to find no magic, wonder, or larger playing field, in the prosaic.
Agreed on resonance.
Gee, this is pretty boring when we agree. But we should take it when we get it!
Pascal once wrote something like, “Habit is a second nature that destroys the first.”
Habit in thinking is often mistaken for truth but Truth is too large to be fully apprehended. And, no, this is not an argument for utter relativism. One can sense truth in details that one knows are distortions or there would be no philosophy, no science, no literature, no thought. However, I question those who claim to see the whole picture clearly; they have just become habituated.
Nevertheless, this fundamental irresolution does not mean we have to stop looking; the looking is an essential part of our nature. The seeker and the sought are interdependent in terms of meaningfulness.
In a sense I agree. But, I have to ask: is not this fundamental irresolution itself, at least potentially, just another form of habituation? Could not the charge be leveled that your axiom, your God, is this fundamental irresolution? That you reach just the same sort of solution as the Christian, or the Hegelian, or even of my (largely former) dreaded philosophy of Objectivism?
In other words, are you not doing basically the same thing the relativist does when he states the absolute that there are no absolutes?
This I like. I think it applies across the board: sensations, perceptions, concepts, values. I mean it in the way that Berkeley’s question was invalid. That would be the question about the tree falling – not God in the quad – although I guess in his philosophy that is intrinsically related. The tree, if there is no one around to here it, certainly created pressure waves in the air, but it did not make a sound. Because sound (and sight and the other senses) describes a relation, not an intrinsic or subjective phenomena. You take out one of the members of the relation, you cease the relation.
Where is the tickle?
Just some thoughts. As I’ve said before, I like no subject better as is evidenced by my constant garrulousness.
Right now I am reading Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton. A very interesting writer, even charming in the dry English wit style.
Some related observations.
wi-fi at La Quinta sucks, I’ll watch video on Sunday.
I finally got to watching it. I don’t get it. Was it showing a point?