Lucian's A True Story

Lucian's famous work excels as satire but underwhelms for those seeking in it an early science fiction story. Openly telling the reader it is nothing but lies, the fictionalized Lucian/narrator lists the various exploits of his crew as they sail beyond the Pillar of Hercules. They encounter fantastic beings, creatures, and places on Earth, the Moon, and the Sun while openly mocking ancient Greek epics, Herodotus, Socrates, Plato, and various Greek writers. It's a lot of fun and a great work of satire. Its irreverence and fantastic beings and adventures has clearly inspired a large number of writers over the centuries, but it is in its extreme tale of interplanetary war between the Sun and the Moon which caught the attention. 

Anyone hoping for a space opera or inter-imperial solar system conflict will be disappointed by the brevity of this conflict in the overall narrative. It is a shame, however. One could imagine a Greek "romance" like that of Achilles Tatius or Helidorus set on the Sun and the Moon, involving a series of adventures and conflicts in the solar system. Maybe a forbidden romance between a man from the Moon and a woman from the Sun, or a sequel telling the tale of the colony they form at the Morning Star. A true space opera from over 1800 years ago would have been something, although the promise of adventure on earth and the unknown continent to the west of the Atlantic are still satisfying in the rest of Lucian's short text. It is an irreverent journey suggestive of how Greek-educated writers learned to apply satire to the epics and philosophy (especially poking fun at Socrates and Pythagoras).

The Story of Apollonius King of Tyre

Although the earliest manuscripts are in Latin, The Story of Apollonius King of Tyre follows many of the conventions of the Ancient Greek romance. Deux ex machina, piracy, threats to the chastity of heroines, adventures around the Mediterranean, intervention of the gods, separation and reunion of lovers, and a happy ending structure the narrative of this short text, or "novella."  Thus, this short tale is closer to the Greek romances than the famous story of Apuleius or Petronius's Satyricon. Interestingly, the initial princess Apollonius of Tyre wished to wed is erased from the narrative after our hero solves the riddle of her incestuous/rapist father, so he could wed an "unspoiled" virgin princess from Pentapolis, Cyrene. 

Perhaps this had to be done so the righteous king of Tyre could wed a virgin, although one wishes there had been something done on behalf of Antiochus's daughter. There are also seemingly Christian invocations of God and Biblically-inspired language, although it coexists uneasily with the presence of Neptune, Diana, Priapus, and other pagan gods. It could very well be the Christian-sounding aspects of the tale were inserted with the Latin translations after the completion of the Vulgate. Gerald Sandy's translation also does a great job capturing the spirit of the times in which these characters lived, their values, and rendering the prose more readable. Of course, a translator can only do so much with a text that was plagued with awkwardness in its original language and the conventions and cliches of its in Antiquity. 

Yet, it feels so incomplete. What was Apollonius doing in Egypt for 14 years? If he abandoned his royal status to become a merchant, are we to assume he was engaged in trade in Egypt and the Mediterranean all this time? And does his return to kingship after the inevitable reunion with his wife and daughter represent the triumph of nobility and kingship over inferior groups such as merchants? As a ruler, he does prove himself as a benefactor who donates to the public treasury of Tarsus and urban restoration. If the Greek primary material was longer than this, perhaps we are missing some of the additional episodes in the text, which would have added another layer of adventures or wonder to the tale. 

The Dispossessed

The Dispossessed is one of those science fiction classics all should read. It tells the story of Shevek, a physicist from an anarchist society on Anarres struggling to complete a General Temporal Theory while also adjusting to the dangers of archism on the homeworld of Urras and the bureaucratization of life on Anarres. Anarres is indeed an "ambiguous utopia" based on anarchist values (and, at times, referring indirectly to Prouhon and Kropotkin). For nearly two centuries, the followers of Odo have managed to survive on a bleak landscape through solidarity and mutual aid. However, there are forces within their society which are creeping towards statism and laws (through conventional behavior, customs) that impede the will of individuals. Facing obstacles for his research on Anarres, Shevek attempts to break down more walls by going directly to Urras, and visiting the land of his ancestors in A-Io.

As a novel exploring the contrast between an anarchist society and a wealthy, centralized state with a capitalist economy (A-Io is likely inspired by the US, Thu by the USSR), this novel requires the reader to think seriously beyond any simplistic utopia. Solidarity and mutual aid as social principles require constant work, a "permanent revolution" to limit the reappearance of state-like apparatuses or the tyranny of the majority. Due to widespread inequality, gross sexism, and war on Urras, it is clearly a flawed place and will not be the solution to the estrangement Shevek experiences at home. However, Anarres also suffers through a traumatic drought, bureaucratic abuse and power struggles, and a harsh material existence that suggests anarchist utopias can only be achieved and maintained through an aforementioned "permanent revolution." Shevek's recollections of solidarity, communication and mutual aid on Urras, however, lead to him joining with socialists and syndicalists in an insurrection against the government of A-Io, demonstrating the appeal of Odonian principles to other peoples beyond Anarres. 

Perhaps the appeal of anarchism and stateless principles to others and the need for breaking down all walls explains why Shevek's research helps lay the foundation for the ansible. Technology which can allow for communication among all the known worlds will ensure ideas and technological advances can be shared equally, and therefore allow for information and other forms of change to prevent Anarres from continuing down its isolationist path, living in the past. Shevek's theory, and mindset, requires a synthesis of the past, present, and future, and an anarchist settlement cutting itself off from the rest of humanity will not last. One can find this sentiment in the novel to be quite moving, as its suggests the degree to which utopian thinking is itself a problem since there are no utopias. Life on Anarres may be egalitarian and, for the most part, no one suffers from want. But, pain, suffering, conflict, and the need to learn are an enduring presence in human existence. 

Félix Morisseau-Leroy sur la place et l'importance du créole en Haïti. (interview de 1957)

Felix Morisseau-Leroy speaks about Haitian Creole and its place and value as a language like any other and his adaptation of Antigone for a Haitian setting. Morisseau-Leroy was one of the more interesting 20th century writers from our homeland whose life and work should inspire us. 

Daphnis And Chloe

Daphis and Chloe is the last of the 5 Greek 'romances' this blog has covered, this one from the Penguin Classics collection of Greek Fiction. Unique in that nearly all of the story transpires on the beautiful island of Lesbos and its pastoral setting, it tells of the budding romance of Daphnis and Chloe. Both exposed at birth, suckled by animals, and raised by "rustics" before their noble birth is revealed, their link is favored by Pan, the Nymphs, and Eros (Love). One sees similarities with the other Greek romances in the appearances of pirates, an attempted rape, intrigues between rival suitors, the virtue of chastity, and references to earlier ancient Greek myths. Nevertheless, Longus's novel features more characterization and as an idyll to pastoral romance is more evocative of its setting (the landscape, flora, and fauna).

However, since the two protagonists of this story are, even at the conclusion of the final book, beautiful "rustics," Longus's tale reveals something of the urban-rural divide in the ancient world. "Rustics" have simple pleasures, are lacking in the refinement and mores of the townsfolk of Mytilene and Methymna. For instance, residents of the latter invade the peaceful countryside for their pleasure and amusement, and abuse countryfolk such as Daphnis. Gnathon's pederasty is contrasted with the "natural" sexual expression of goats and sheep, perhaps reflecting another difference between city slickers and country folk. Moreover, Daphnis's initiation in the erotic arts begins through a married woman from the city, suggestive of another difference between city and countryside that reflects poorly on the morality of the former. Daphnis's adoptive parents are themselves the slaves of Dionysophanes, owner of the estate they toil on, and if it weren't for the tokens they found with an infant Daphnis, they would have been forced to give their son as a slave for the pleasure of Gnathon.

While there is nothing in the novel to suggest a protest against unequal land distribution or the institution of slavery, one detects there to be an inkling of the dangers of a disconnect between the city and its surrounding countryside. The city-state and its rural attachments must exist in a symbiotic relationship to ensure their survival, and the continued attachment of both Daphnis and Chloe to what becomes their estate (and a wedding celebration in the rustic manner) may signify the importance of the urban elites not distancing themselves too much from the "simple" peasants and agricultural laborers. Or, perhaps, this is just reading too much into an enchanting coming-of-age romance.

Callirhoe

Chariton's Callirhoe may be the earliest of the extant Greek romances. It's a work of historical fiction drawing upon fictionalized figures from the history of Sicily, the Persian Empire, and all the conventions and cliches of the romance in the early centuries of the Roman Empire. Like most of the other five romances, Callirhoe and Chaereas are in love but are separated due to intrigue, jealousy, and fate. Eventually, after undergoing a number of ordeals and adventures around the Mediterranean, Ionia, and the Middle East, they return to Syracuse and celebrate their martial reunion. Constant references to Homer, earlier Greek literary precedents, and the intervention of Aphrodite and Eros proliferate throughout the text.

Like Heliodorus's more exciting Aethiopica, the Persian Empire makes an appearance and provides some exotic flavor since part of the narrative takes place in Babylon. Persian and non-Greek "barbarian" customs and autocratic rule are contrasted with Greek nobility and chastity. Invocations of the Peloponnesian War and the Battle of Thermopylae clearly inspired parts of the narrative's war sequences. For example, Chaereas leads 300 Greeks in the army of the Egyptian rebel king to take Tyre from the Persians. Like his father-in-law, Hermocrates of Syracuse, he leads the Egyptian naval forces against the Persian forces just as Hermocrates defeated the Athenians at sea. There's also a fair amount of battles, tomb-robbing, imperial court trials, crucifixions, tortures, and amorous intrigues to entertain and provide a model of sorts for later Greek romances. Nearly every male who sees Callirhoe wants her, including the Great King, an arbiter of justice, lusting for a married woman. 

However, in Callirhoe, it is primarily the woman rather than the male who occupies more of the narrative. For much of tale, Chaereas is bemoaning the loss of Callirhoe and attempting suicide before his friend Polycharmus prevents it. Callirhoe, on the other hand, beseeches Aphrodite and manages to save her child and (most) of her chastity while various men vie for her affection. Callirhoe is, despite her passivity in some cases, is the more active of the pair until the final book, when Chaereas leads the Egyptians to victory in a naval battle against the Persian king. But perhaps the exotic and trying adventures of Callirhoe is better used to provide a backdrop to the barbarian/Greek dichotomy. Barbarians are woman-mad, autocratic, and lacking in the virtues of Greeks. While individual 'barbarians' could be noble or chaste, the experience of Callirhoe with the Persians illustrates otherwise. So, like Heliodorus's tale, the idea of difference animates much of the novel, though Chareas and Callirhoe long to return to their Greek world rather than escape it. 

China Mountain Zhang

McHugh's China Mountain Zhang was more entertaining than I thought it would be. Although set in a dystopian future in which a Second Civil War has led to a socialist revolution in the US and mainland China dominates the world, this novel is not about a glorious resistance to status quo or a revolutionary movement to overthrow an unequal system. Here, "resistance" lies in the cracks of the system and the wills of the main characters to eke out an existence. The central protagonist, a gay Chinese-Hispanic who, due to gene-splicing, can 'pass' for an ABC (American-Born Chinese), is hardly heroic but seeks to find a community and space for him to express himself (although his deviance is unacceptable in China). The other characters also search for a space to call their own, their own bit of freedom, even if it takes them to Mars (where communes struggle to stay afloat, as the case of Alexi and Martine illustrates). 

At first one might think the novel to be almost a right-wing attack on the Far Left, but its far too sophisticated for anything so simple-minded. It's certainly a critique of ideological purity and devotion, and the excesses of Marxism that can become rather dogmatic. But the main character's lifestyle, the rape of the foreman's daughter after her facial surgery, and the concerns of Martine and Alexi indicate a concern for human freedom, self-expression and dignity that eschew any simplistic rejection of left-wing politics. In a sense, the novel presents a feminist ethics of care. And lest one think there is no action at all, some intense action-packed sequences involving kite racers, running from a state raid on an illegal club in Nanjing and dramatic exchanges enliven the narrative. 

Furthermore, since so much of the book consists of the intersecting slice of life segments of its cast, the reader comes to appreciate the world-building of this China-dominated futurism. "Daoist" engineering, Martian agricultural communes, jacking on to systems, and a variety of new technologies is quite entertaining and intriguing, particularly as the characters don't live too far in time from our 20th century. This dystopian future seems plausible, and perhaps more accurate every day given the changing power relations of the 21st century. 

Ceora

"Ceora" is a classic penned by Lee Morgan. Unlike his usually boisterous and fiery self, "Ceora" is a restrained and cool Latin number with an excellent introduction by Herbie Hancock. Morgan's solo is so breezy and soulful that it is difficult not to get lost in its gentle, undulating waves. Hancock's solo is also perfect for the composition. 

Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands

Although I first read Jorge Amado over a decade ago, Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands is very different from his early works of realism from the 1930s. Like Jubiabá, Dona Flor involves Candomble and Brazilian social commentary, yet the latter is clearly comedic and satirical with a more playful narration. The latter work of course also embraces the fantastic, with the spirit of Dona Flor's first husband returning after death and the African gods or orixas dueling with Exu, the patron saint  of said husband. Dona Flor is symbolized by Oshun, suggesting how one can read the various characters of the novel through the lens of the African deities. 

While much could be said about this seemingly light-hearted novel and what it means as a representation of Afro-Brazilian religion, spirituality, and Brazilian society in the middle of the 20th century, it strikes the reader as a story of polar opposites in need of resolution, of spirit versus matter. Class, status, emotional, social, and erotic desires and positions require Dona Flor to make up her mind about who she is and what she desires. Is she the abused wife of an amazing lover (and gambler) who satisfies her most deeply felt needs, or does she desire respectability, status, and comfort through a husband who adores her (Teodoro, the second husband). Is the trickster figure of a man (Vadinho) who cannot work a regular schedule or establish a conventional life, whose gambling lifestyle represents primal aspects of modern life, the path for Dona Flor? 

Ultimately, she chooses both Teodoro and Vadinho, bringing the novel to a resolution of the contrasting values of life and Brazilian society embodied in her two husbands (respectability, comfort and convention with Vadinho's erotic arts and rambunctious lifestyle). Intriguingly, the only religious tradition not mocked in the novel is Afro-Brazilian, and it is through the intercession of Exu, or Eleggua (Papa Legba) that the blond Vadinho returns after death. The spirit Exu, or Legba, the trickster at crossroads, pervades the novel as the many romps of Vadinho and the intersection of the orixas and the material world, even in the case of characters such as Dona Flor who do not serve the spirits. Yet the Exu/Legba character must be balanced in order for Dona Flor to thrive. This may be an attempt at depicting the liberated modern woman as in control of Apollonian and Dionysian impulses, and in charge of her own agency. After all, it is Dona Flor's love and assertion of her own will which saves Vadinho from the afterlife when the orixas combine forces against Exu. 

Blue Rondo à la Turk

All this talk of the Final Fantasy VII remake has brought back memories of Dave Brubeck, clearly the inspiration for some of the videogame's soundtrack. The confluence of the blues with Turkish time signatures works so well. Further proof of the elasticity of jazz and modern music.

Zamyatin's We

Zamyatin's We is quite unique and influential in the history of the dystopian novel. And though I have possessed a personal copy of the text for at least 3 years, only now have I felt compelled to read it. Perhaps this is due to watching Ergo Proxy, a dark science fiction story set in a post-apocalyptic future in which the remnants of the planet's population resides in a domed, false utopia (akin to a panopticon, but several decades before Foucault's famed one). While We lacks the particularly obvious Gnostic themes (although one wonders if I-330 represented Sophia, the Benefactor the Demiurge, and the members of the Mephi secret society the aeons against the false Guardians of One State's Green Walls?) of Ergo Proxy, the idea of a dystopian society in a domed city, separated from nature, appealed to me. 

While Mirra Ginsburg's translation may not be the best attempt to render it in English, her rendering of the rambling thoughts of its narrator, D-503, a mathematician working on the Integral spaceship, ring loud and clear in the incoherent manner of someone questioning the status quo in One State. Falling head over heels for a woman who, in the end, may be exploiting him to steal the Integral, D-503 gains a soul, begins to dream, and suffers from imagination. In the "utopia" of One State, which has crushed freedom for happiness (since the only way to achieve happiness, is for the authoritarian Benefactor to eradicate individuality in the cold, hard pursuit of Reason alone), the totalitarian regime has erected a cult of Reason, Taylorism, and uniformity. In in its teleological view of human history, with the One State as the final revolution, democracy, "ancient" family structures, and non-regulated sexual unions are primitive. 

Of course, as I-330 tells the narrator, there is no final revolution. Neither the Russian Revolution or the various left-wing or fascist movements of the 20th century were "final" revolutions either. Written before the rise of Stalin, one can see why Zamyatin became a thorn in the side of the Soviet Union. His entire worldview is antithetical to the rise of the modern state in the 20th century, and still relevant today. Of course, one wonders if an authoritarian state is even necessary anymore for some of the same outcomes today. Unfortunately, I think the text, structured as journal entries by the narrator, has some limitations as it does not explore the fascinating world outside of the Green Wall. I also would have liked to learn more about the humans living outside the confines of the dome, the "hairy" beings who at first appear to be noble savages representing liberation. Are they the equivalent of the Native Americans in Brave New World? Either way, this is an enjoyable read that has cemented my interest in dystopian literature.

Puerto Rican Obituary

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

Olga

Manuel