Unlabeller

[coalescent]

There is a rage shared by most critics of the literature of the fantastic. It is the rage we feel when some iteration of that literature--a novel by Jeff Noon, perhaps--is mufflingly misdescribed as non-generic by its publishers, or by some moat-defensive critic more concerned to defend his patch than to tell the truth about the text before his

Comments

[grahamsleight]

I think an underlying Clute argument - not stated here, though elsewhere in plenty - is that sf is a literature in uniquely intense conversation with itself. (Hence, for Clute, why it matters so much to get dating right - dating is the crucial anchor in that time-bound conversation.) Disowning sf is disowning that conversation. The real problem with the treatment of Noon (or, also Karen Joy Fowler's Black Glass or Bear's Darwin's Radio) is the presumption that sf is in some way inherently *shameful*, either in a marketing sense or an aesthetic one. As Delany has suggested more than once, sf might do well to ditch the anxiety about "As Others See Us" and adopt the rhetorical and mental stances of queer rights. ("We're here! We're geeks! Get used to it!")

[swisstone]

In Noon's case it's not just how others treat his work, but how he treats himself. I probably shouldn't, but here's a taster from the Clarke anthology that's relevant:

Noon, therefore, is not really coming from an sf tradition. He did not emerge through the fanzines and sf magazines, though he read American superhero comics avidly as a child. He was a playwright who could not get his plays mounted, until Stephen Powell persuaded him to write a novel for Powell's new imprint, Ringpull Press. Noon extracted a subplot he had inserted into an unproduced stage adaptation of Octave Mirbeau's The Torture Garden, and Vurt was born.

It is not altogether surprising, therefore, that Noon is ambivalent towards sf. On the one hand, he is [or was] happy to be interviewed by Vector and Interzone, and appear at sf conventions. On the other, he is keen to distance his writing from science fiction (about which he has some strange ideas), and Falling Out of Cars is marketed as a non-genre work (to the annoyance of Clute). Interviewing him, [

[immortalradical]

Disowning sf is disowning that conversation.

I think this is getting there. Though it could just as easily be simple disinterest in the conversation (though clearly some knowledge of it is required to write an interesting fantastical work), rather than any pejorative dislike of it.

Though of course I dispute rather strongly that sf is a literature in uniquely intense conversation with itself. (In fact, I don't see how this argument stands up to a moment's scrutiny. Feel free to enlighten me.) Its writers made be in uniquely intense (and uniquely minute) conversation with their readers, but that's not quite the same thing, is it?

[despotliz]

Here's a question: what does "a literature in uniquely intense conversation with itself" actually mean?

[coalescent]

Saying that books/texts/literary artefacts are in conversation with one another is a metaphor for the fact that we (whoever "we" are, and I think that's the crucial question here) perceive and impose conversation-like relationships and structures between and on these artefacts.

Er ... I think there's a bit more to it than that. My understanding of what is meant when people say that sf is in conversation with itself is that the writers are consciously revisiting, responding to, revising earlier works and ideas. To take an example from elsewhere in the thread, Red Mars is clearly aware of its sf antecedents

[grahamsleight]

My memory is that Red Mars literally spends its first couple of pages talking about past myths and sf stories re Mars? Its awareness of its place in the lineage is very self-conscious.

[swisstone]

Ooh, does it? I must dig out my copy in that case. Could be interesting for my own research.

[peake]

In fact any 'genre' is in a similar conversation with itself, it is part of what makes it a genre. Part of this is responding to conventions - Brokeback Mountain is a cowboy movie that breaks the convention of heterosexual cowboys, but that breaking of the convention is part of the conversation. Part of it is simply being aware of what others in the conversation are saying. If you are part of the conversation of sf you are reading what others are writing, even if only in vague terms it is part of your understanding of the genre. That is why writers who are not part of the conversation (think PD James or Paul Theroux) do not convince when they attempt genre tropes.

[coalescent]

So 'reader' covers all participants in the conversation, including writers and critics, etc. Didn't elaborate because, you know, short comment trying to explain whole brain load of stuff and no time.

Fair enough, but I think there's a fairly important difference between the parties who are creating the works and the parties who are interpreting them. I don't think you can really talk about writers imposing connections on things they themselves are creating.

So what, exactly, is dishonest about not labeling Noon's work in such a way as to emphasise the connections his work has to other sf works?

Again, haven't read Noon. But in the general case, it's not the omission that bothers me, it's the denial. It's the equivalent of saying "well, it uses some Manchester landmarks, but it's not really set in Manchester."

[swisstone]

His novel Pollen wasn't labeled so as to flag up the references to Greek myth

And clearly I'm going to need to read Pollen again, as that stuff didn't really stick in my head when I was reading it as background for the Vurt piece.

[ninebelow]

If I'm remembering correctly it uses Persephone in the same way Vurt uses Orpheus.

[swisstone]

Ah yes, it's coming back to me now. And I did mention (briefly) the Orpheus stuff in the essay, so I don't feel as stupid as I did a couple of hours ago.

[ninebelow]

Exactly.

[grahamsleight]

Texts/books/literary artefacts can't be in conversation with each other. Conversation is an act of communication between conscious beings. Saying that books/texts/literary artefacts are in conversation with one another is a metaphor for the fact that we (whoever "we" are, and I think that's the crucial question here) perceive and impose conversation-like relationships and structures between and on these artefacts.On the one hand yes, on the other hand, no. :p Of course, you're right to say that texts have no independent existence, and that at the very least saying that they're in conversation is shorthand. On the other hand, I maintain, it's enormously useful shorthand. Texts are that bit of the conversation which, as it were, pokes up above water-level - and which, moreover, are preserved as time goes by. Look at, say, the generation-ship trope as treated down the years by, eg, Heinlein, Aldiss, Reed, Wolfe, Macleod. Each of the later writers - whether or not they were aware of all their predecessors' work - was clearly working in a