Imagining the future

I've written before about all the encounters I have with people who don't understand my love of fantasy and science fiction (or, for that matter, myths). I also have arguments with people about science being the only way to know truth (I don't think so.) The best answer I've come across to both is from the brilliant English author Terry Pratchett, author of the "Discworld" series, in his book Hogfather. The Hogfather is the Discworld equivalent of Santa Claus. The one who speaks in all caps is Death; Susan is his adopted granddaughter, who has had a very strenuous night and is tired, hence all the stuff about beds.

"All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need . . . fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO, HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little ---"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

"They're not the same at all."

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWEDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET---Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME . . . SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY JUDGED.

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point ---"

MY POINT EXACTLY.

She tried to assemble her thoughts.

THERE IS A PLACE WHERE TWO GALAXIES HAVE BEEN COLLIDING FOR A MILLION YEARS, said Death, apropos of nothing. DON'T TRY TO TELL ME THAT'S RIGHT.

"Yes, but people don't think about that," said Susan. Somewhere there was a bed . . .

CORRECT. STARS EXPLODE, WORLDS COLLIDE, THERE'S HARDLY ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE WHERE HUMANS CAN LIVE WITHOUT BEING FROZEN OR FRIED, AND YET YOU BELIEVE THAT A . . . A BED IS A NORMAL THING. IT IS THE MOST AMAZING TALENT.

"Talent?"

OH YES. A VERY SPECIAL KIND OF STUPIDITY. YOU THINK THE WHOLE UNIVERSE IS INSIDE YOUR HEADS.

"You make us sound mad," said Susan. A nice warm bed . . .

NO. YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN'T TRUE. HOW ELSE CAN THEY BECOME?



* * * * *

One of the things I'm saying in my dissertation is that women's literature can sometimes be seen as speculative fiction like fantasy and science fiction, because it's so often an attempt to imagine a better world. As Betty DeShong Meador puts it, "I do not condemn male-imagined culture. Rather, I grieve the lack, the loss, the absence of a concomitant female-imagined culture which could flourish side by side, if only there were breathing room."

People so often see things as either/or. Either we have it this way, or that way, but never both at once. But that's exactly what I want, what many women really want. The women's movement has never been an attempt to take over from men or emasculate them, it has been about establishing true partnership where the styles and strengths of both sexes are equally valid and valued. Which would mean that some men would feel free to be more "feminine" and some women more "masculine," because we'd stop caring so much who took on which traits: it wouldn't threaten anyone's sense of self if an individual was nurturing at the appropriate time, or decisive and take-charge at others.

Women have been trying for centuries to write about such a world, to imagine it into being. And you know what? We're getting there. The "millenial" generation is waaay ahead of my generation (their parents) in this. I don't think this could have happened without our ability to believe in things that aren't "true" - and write about them.