Voyant Visualization

 

  • It’s pretty clear that I prefer print media – “book,” “story,” and “novel” are all pretty big and I don’t see anything about TV or movies, which makes sense for me. “Art” is fairly large, though.
  • You can see my love of space!! “Space,” “sky,” “moon,” “mars,” “astronaut,” “rocket,” “universe,” etc.
  • “Fantasy” is also prominent – we’ve discussed how the two genres are often grouped together, so that makes sense.
  • It’s fun to see the specific authors I looked up! (Although I only read one article specifically about Octavia Butler, so it’s fascinating that her name is so big – her name must have come up in lots of other places.)
  • Interestingly, while I did not search a single thing about a man, “man” is the same size as “women” (right above “science”).
  • I also semi-intentionally focused on marginalized groups (both as writers and characters in sf): “queer,” “black,” “Jewish,” and “women” come up fairly often.
  • “World,” “future,” “time,” “city,” and “life” all kind of point to the place and future of humanity in general – that’s kind of cool.
  • It’s also interesting what’s missing: not much technology or robots or anything like that, and no cyberpunk at all.

Multiplexing: Deceit and Consequences in “Bokko-Chan” and “Take Your Choice”

Shinichi Hoshi’s 1963 short story “Bokko-Chan” and Sakyo Komatsu’s 1967 “Take Your Choice,” written by Japanese authors only four years apart, construct remarkably similar narratives. Both stories are exclusively populated by men, who, motivated by greed and lust, make choices that eventually backfire, hurting themselves and everyone around them. The scammers in the two stories weaponize the science fictional tools of robots and time travel for profit. When the schemes go wrong, everyone is to blame: the bar-master who built a robot to make money, the men who believe she is a real woman, the scammers who make a fortune selling fake time travel worldwide, the people who choose the nuclear future. “Bokko-Chan” and “Take Your Choice” encourage wariness of science fiction and explore the consequences of deceit, greed, and lust in post-occupation Japan.

Both “Bokko-Chan” and “Take Your Choice” feature nameless male proprietors who construct schemes to scam nameless male customers. Throughout the story, Bokko-chan’s owner is called “the bar-master” (Hoshi, p. 48) by the omniscient narrator, and the only other characters mentioned are “a young man” (Hoshi, p. 50), also referred to as “the youth” and “the boy” (Hoshi, p. 51), and “his father” (Hoshi, p. 50). The protagonist of “Take Your Choice,” solely referred to as “he,” uses “the elderly proprietor” (Komatsu, p. 86) and “the little man” (Komatsu, p. 88) to describe the scammers. The anonymity of the characters in both stories suggests that anyone could take on the role of scammer or scammed and implicates the (male) reader in the resulting disasters. The only name in either story is given to Bokko-chan, who is also the only female. Despite having a name, Bokko-chan is a device rather than a character: her lack of agency is clear throughout the story as she converses by repeating what patrons say to her without comprehension and is little more than a bar tap to the proprietor. Both “Take Your Choice” and “Bokko-Chan” depict men as the scammers and choosers of the world; their creations and decisions affect the future, while the sole woman is merely a tool of this process, comparable to the films and doors of “Take Your Choice.”

In both stories, the scammers exploit lust and desire, using science fictional devices to deceive their customers for profits. The scam in “Bokko-Chan” revolves around the science fictional element of a female robot, unsophisticated “since the designing of a complex brain was beyond the capabilities of her inventor” (Hoshi, p. 48) but “able to answer questions of the simplest form and perform simple motions” (Hoshi, p. 48) and with a spout from which the bar-master drains and reuses the drinks men buy her. Komatsu explains the mechanics of the much more complex “Take Your Choice” scam in detail, emphasizing the reliance on science fiction elements: “time-space channel … using only ordinary doors of no special value and shop-worn SF films … make them faint once in the next small room with an anesthetic gas and a vibrating device, and when they come out through the very same door, we make sure they think they’re in another world” (Komatsu, p. 102). Bokko-chan’s gullible admirers find her “charming, young, prissy and smart to chat with” (Hoshi, p. 49), an ideal woman. Thus, the bar-master harnesses lust to increase his profits: Bokko-chan attracts more customers, and when they buy drinks for her, “being a frugal man, he would serve them again to the customer” (Hoshi, p. 50). Similarly, desire motivates patrons in “Take Your Choice” to choose the third door: “people are, in one way or another, very lewd. Can’t help having a wish to peep. To satisfy this secret lustful desire for peeping, they don’t care if the world is blown up” (Komatsu, p. 103). “Making a fortune” (Komatsu, p. 102)  is the objective of this scam, too, as the proprietors charge “two million five hundred thousand credits” (Komatsu, p. 89) per customer and have served thousands. While the scams operate on vastly different scales – one bar versus the whole world – both are motivated by greed, harness lust, and rely on science fictional devices.

In the end, everyone suffers from the scams in “Bokko-Chan” and “Take Your Choice”: patrons, perpetrators, and bystanders. In “Bokko-Chan,” the bar-master and the patrons die after drinking the poisoned liquor that the young man gave Bokko-chan. The bar-master’s practice of re-serving the drinks which admirers buy for Bokko-chan backfires, and everyone suffers from his deceit. The young man who drugs Bokko-chan’s drink runs away after doing so and thus evades death, but he is still hurt by the scam, spending all of his money to impress Bokko-chan and getting caught stealing from his father. At the end of “Take Your Choice,” the scammers realize that since thousands of people with influence choose the future of a nuclear holocaust, it will likely come to pass, killing everyone in the world. Interestingly, the deaths in both stories are only implied. Once the bar-master in “Bokko-Chan” serves the poisoned drinks, “nobody departed and yet nobody spoke” (Hoshi, p. 51) – it is clear that the bar-master and the patrons have all died, but it is not stated directly. “Take Your Choice” concludes with the realization that “if the people who believe that this world will definitely be finished in little more than a decade are going to increase in large numbers all over the world…? You know, among our customers there were many officials, officers, politicians…” (Komatsu, p. 103). Once again, the meaning is clear, but the eventual negative outcome is only implied through the ellipses. Rather than preaching and moralizing, Hoshi and Komatsu encourage the reader to realize the consequences on their own.

“Bokko-Chan” and “Take Your Choice” condemn both deceit and gullibility, and the deadly consequences of greed, lust, and science fiction suggest fears of modernization and Westernization in post-occupation Japan. The two stories include other Japanese concerns as well. The “strong desire for destruction” (Komatsu, p. 103) discussed in “Take Your Choice” – “though they may speak of peace and humanism when they open their mouths, in their minds – consciously or otherwise – they all want to witness the end of the world” (Komatsu, p. 103) – is reminiscent of the American bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Bokko-chan, the “charming robotess” (Hoshi, p. 48) who is admired for echoing what men tell her rather than having thoughts of her own could indicate fears and frustrations with increasingly independent women. Through dangerous scams that seem profitable until they backfire, “Bokko-Chan” and “Take Your Choice” demonstrate a deep mistrust of a too-rapidly changing world.

 

 

Works Cited

Hoshi, Shinichi. “Bokko-Chan” (1963). Trans. Noriyoshi Saito. The Best Japanese Science Fiction Stories, Ed. John L. Apostolou and Martin Harry Greenberg. New York: Dembner Books, 1989. 47-51.

Komatsu, Sakyo. “Take Your Choice” (1967). Trans. Shiro Tamura and Grania Davis. The Best Japanese Science Fiction Stories, Ed. John L. Apostolou and Martin Harry Greenberg. New York: Dembner Books, 1989. 85-103.

Microreading: “Perpetual Motion” Ends Where it Starts

Ilya Varshavsky’s 1965 short story “Perpetual Motion” presents a comedic but imaginable future, in which humans are served by robots who threaten to strike unless granted equality, as a metaphor for Marxism. Varshavsky satirizes bureaucracy – the Council is comprised of fools who “move we adjourn for a year’s recess” after briefly addressing three issues (Varshavsky, p. 87) – reliance on technology – Scalpel, a surgeon, leaves his “electronic memory” at home and kills a person because he “couldn’t, for the life of me, remember which side the human appendix is on” (Varshavsky, p. 87) – and overemphasis on convenience – the humans in the story are named after objects like Bed and Spoon, and they wear pictures of their names so that nobody has to remember and “people know in advance whom they were dealing with” (Varshavsky, p. 86) – but his main concern is continuous social upheaval. By depicting a series of class revolutions in which humans end up back on the bottom, Varshavsky critiques the Marxist system of the Soviet Union while lamenting its inevitability.

As the title implies, the direct parallels between the two revolutions in “Perpetual Motion” emphasize the repetitive, cyclical nature of revolution and demands for equality. In the first half of the story, a delegation of Class A robots petitions the human Council for “equality … an eight-hour day … also complete self-government” (Varshavsky, p. 88). Twenty years later, the Class A robots hold a “special session of the Council because of the Class B machines [who] demand complete equality” (Varshavsky, p. 90). The two Council meetings proceed identically. Both chairmen, Spoon and Ferrite, are late, and the other Council members discuss the culture of the lower class while they wait: the humans Scalpel, Tape Recorder, and Bed gossip about “that new electronic ballerina” (Varshavsky, p. 86), and the robots Pentode and Condenser praise the musical compositions of “the graduation concert of young gifted machines” (Varshavsky, p. 90). Both Councils are dismissive of the petitioners’ concerns until presented with the threat of a strike, at which point the Councils immediately grant the desired equality. In the first revolution, the “Superior Automatons” (formerly the Class A robots) create Class B machines to replace their labor; in the second revolution, the Class B machines decide to stop serving the humans and instead “teach them how to make stone tools … and how to use them for cultivating the soil” (Varshavsky, p. 90). The implication is that eventually the new human lower class will demand equality as did the robot and machine classes.

“Perpetual Motion” explores the cyclical nature of class distinctions and revolution: the existence of lower classes makes revolution inevitable, and revolutions create lower classes who will one day rise up. True equality is impossible in this system. In the story, humans seem to have achieved equality among themselves because robots provide the labor – art, entertainment, medicine, and food, among other things – so there is no need for a human lower class. When the Class A robots demand equality, they “propose to increase the number of robots by two-thirds. Such a solution would satisfy both us and the people” (Varshavsky, p. 90). The Class A robots join the upper class after creating Class B machines to act as the new proletariat. Only twenty years later, the Class B machines demand equality, and humans are pushed down to serve as laborers. In a society where labor is necessary, “Perpetual Motion” argues that class distinctions are inevitable and equality cannot be universal, so a working class will always exist.

Varshavsky’s story is thus a refutation and a satire of Marxism, lampooning a system of continuous revolutions in which class distinctions are preserved and no single class stands to benefit long-term. He also ridicules the inherent laziness and dependence of the upper class. In “Perpetual Motion,” humans name themselves after objects – Spoon, Bed, Tape Recorder, Wineglass, Pink Stocking – a concept which the Class A robots – Pentode, Condenser, and Ferrite – emulate after their ascent. The naming system is lauded for its convenience and efficiency, and its oversimplification and impersonality are unnoticed. Humans barely work at all, instead building “Pleasure Palaces” with “sensation-inducing halls” for entertainment (Varshavsky, p. 87), and require electronic memories to retain basic information, conditions which extend to the Superior Automatons (formerly the Class A robots) after the revolution. First Class A robots and then Class B machines provide food, healthcare, technology, service, and art, while first the humans and then the Superior Automatons suffer from forgetfulness, absent-mindedness, and ennui: Scalpel complains, “my cyber makes periodic reviews of the funniest jokes, but it began to tire me of late. I feel thoroughly exhausted” (Varshavsky, p. 86), and Condenser notes, “I’ve become very absent-minded of late” (Varshavsky, p. 90). Varshavsky notes these ailments as consequences of reliance on others’ labor, and mocks the resulting lack of basic skills: “Spoon tried to emit a whistle, but remembered in time that he had forgotten how it was done” (Varshavsky, p. 88). In “Perpetual Motion,” the upper class is dependent, useless, and, most importantly, impermanent.

Despite the amusing rhetorical devices Varshavsky employs, “Perpetual Motion” is a  pessimistic story. Humans achieve technological greatness, but only briefly, and are ultimately relegated to their humble origins as farmers. The same fate awaits the Superior Automatons and the Class B machines in an unending cycle of overthrow and social upheaval. Class revolution is continuous and inevitable, yet somehow always a shock to those in power. Varshavsky’s story refutes numerous aspects of Marxism and the Soviet structure: revolutions are repetitive rather than singular, society depends on the existence of an upper class and a working class, and technology creates new issues in addition to solving problems. “Perpetual Motion” envisions a bleak future under Marxism, but fails to present an alternative. Human society, according to Varshavsky, is doomed to create and re-create class structures and revolution in perpetuity.

 

Works Cited

Varshavsky, Ilya. “Perpetual Motion” (1965). Trans. S. Ostrofsky. International Science Fiction, Ed. Frederik Pohl. New York: Galaxy Publishing Corporation, Nov. 1967. 86-90.

Chesley Bonestell artwork

I did some research on SF art to try and figure out if my paintings qualify, and I came across these incredible paintings by Chesley Bonestell (1888-1986). He worked as an architect and a Hollywood special effects artist before turning to a career as an artist. His paintings of outer space were so realistic, people (including astronomers) thought they were based on photographs, not just made up. Bonestell also did over 60 cover illustrations for pulp SF magazines. Here are some of my favorite paintings of his (based on some google searching):

 

(“Chicago at the temperature of melting lead due to solar disturbance or orbit disruption”, “Saturn as Seen from Titan”, “Deimos”, “Globular Cluster”)

The Chicago painting makes me think of H. G. Wells’s “The Star” (and also a little bit of my own paintings), and the globular cluster one looks a lot like the NASA picture I used as my background on this website, which is a photo of Messier 75, an actual globular cluster:

I’ve also decided that my paintings do count as SF, and I’ve decided to make more of them.

SF paintings (maybe)

Untitled by Rebecca Cohen; June 29, 2019; acrylic on canvas.

This is a triptych (a word I learned a long time ago from a friend who wrote a three-act play about an art heist) that I painted last summer. I’m not sure if it’s a post-apocalyptic Earth or another imaginary world. I didn’t set out to make a science fiction art piece – it just kind of happened. My painting skills are mostly limited to copying existing artwork and painting city skylines (a theme that can be found on my nightstand, a mug that I use as a pencil cup, a Masque & Gown program from last year, and an embroidery piece I made for Grace), so I knew that would be part of it. Red is my favorite color, and also the color of paint I happened to have the most of, so I started by painting a red sky and a silhouetted skyline:

I also love the moon, and I had some fancy metallic paint, so I added a crescent moon (by painting part of the paint cap gold and then using it as a stamp):

But then I decided there was too much empty space at the top of the painting, and in my practice trials of the moon I had made some less solid prints that I thought looked really cool, so I decided this world had two moons, or maybe one moon with a reflection or projection of itself:

It was so much fun to make that I decided to paint two more panels, and I added more gold in the sky. I’m not sure if it’s a comet or a weirdly shaped cluster of stars, but it was super fun to paint and it just kept getting bigger and bigger. Maybe it’s like H. G. Wells’s star, although this world is already somewhat post-apocalyptic: only two windows in the city have lights on (because I wanted to use more gold paint, because I needed something else to tie the panels together, and because there was no way I would paint a whole city’s worth of windows, but also because I couldn’t imagine a whole lot of people still living in this creepy city under the spooky red sky with these kind of ominous moons and whatever that other star/comet thing is). The red and black sky is definitely eerie and unnatural. I’m not sure if it counts as SF, but if it does, I think it’s the red sky that pushes it over.

On A Sunbeam graphic novel

https://www.onasunbeam.com/

I read this graphic novel, On A Sunbeam by Tillie Walden, about a year ago. It was written/drawn in Tokyo (which definitely influenced the art style, particularly the design of the spaceships), and was nominated for a 2019 Hugo Award.

right columnFrom the about page: “My initial goal with Sunbeam was to create a version of outer space that I would want to live in. So of course that includes tons of queer people, no men (did you notice?), trees, old buildings, and endless constellations.”

Hello world!

Welcome to your Bowdoin Course Sites for the class World Science Fiction.

The first thing to do is go to DASHBOARD –> SETTINGS —> GENERAL and put your name in the SITE TITLE

Then you can change the HEADER IMAGE (using directions in Header Image above)

Then you can change the background color with CUSTOMIZE —> COLORS —>  BACKGROUND COLOR

Then you can play ith the Menus in DASHBOARD –>  APPEARANCE —> MENUS

And the right side cand be adjusted with DASHBOARD –>  APPEARANCE —> WIDGETS

The difference between PAGE and POST
Reverse chronological order vs. static, hierarchical content.

CATEGORIES and TAGS
Categories and tags help you organize your posts and make it easier for readers to find content

This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start posting.