| Asimov's Science Fiction, August 1998 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A review by David Soyka
"Oceanic," the excellent lead story by Greg Egan, chronicles the loss of
faith on a planet in which the original human settlers have over time become
deified as "The Angels," with a female goddess called Beatrice fulfilling
roughly the same role as Jesus in Christianity. As you could judge by the title, this is
a watery world divided into two cultures: Freelanders, those who live on the
water, and Firmlanders, earth-bound dwellers. The narrator, Martin (the name of a
Christian saint and Protestant reformer Martin Luther, whose namesake's struggle
in the 1960s civil rights movement to "let my people go" ended in assassination), is
a Freelander converted to the Deep Church by his brother, Daniel (Biblical seer who
proclaimed a just and righteous God). The initiation rite is a sort of baptism in
which Martin is weighted down and plunged into the ocean; his brother, thinking he
knows exactly how long Martin can hold his breath, waits until literally
Martin's last gasp before hauling him up. On the verge of losing consciousness,
Martin experiences an epiphany in which he is consumed by Beatrice's love, gaining a sense
of peace and purpose that is far too overwhelming seemingly to be
attributed to something as simple as hallucinations caused by an oxygen starved brain.
There is, however, a secular biological explanation that Martin
inadvertently uncovers in his own otherwise esoteric university studies. Even before
his discovery, Martin's experiences as a cultural outsider (a Freelander
living among Firmlanders) in an academic setting of skeptical colleagues,
coupled with the perceptions gained by growing older and enduring the death of a
loved one, have led him to modify his youthful convictions, but while still
retaining a core of unassailable faith. Martin's first and only sexual experience
also leads to disappointment. Egan describes a sexual union that leads to a
reversal of reproductive organs, an apt metaphor for the various
conflicts inherent in the dualities not only of gender identity, but sex and love,
unforgiving righteousness and cultural relativism. Moreover, sexual
references are often used as analogues to describe religious rapture, e.g., the
Biblical Song of Solomon or the mystical visions of Margery Kempe. Thus, the way
in which Martin loses his virginity without gaining love foreshadows an
even greater loss.
At first glance, James Patrick Kelly's take on the God question seems to
provide a more hopeful answer. His depiction of an otherwise
exceptionally mundane psychological experiment that ends up with verifiable evidence
proving the existence of God and an afterlife has the characteristics of a
classic Twilight Zone episode. However, I think that by titling the
story as the monograph of the experiment's resulting scientific
paper -- "Bierhorst, R.G. Seera, B.L., and Jennifer R.P., 'Proof of the
Existence of God and
an Afterlife,' Journal of Experimental Psychology, Volume 95,
Spring 2007, Pages 32-36" -- Kelly is being much more clever. Consider
the ramifications that actual proof of the existence of God is buried
some thirty pages within a specialized scientific journal that is hardly
likely to be widely read.
In "Totally Camelot," Esther M. Friesner contrasts the eloquence of
legends with the vacuousness of common attitudes by placing contemporary
language in the mouths of Arthurian characters. The legend that Arthur will one day
return to bring peace and prosperity is, of course, a Christian metaphor
for the Messiah, and Friesner seems to be saying that today's
intellectual shallowness and self-centeredness makes this unlikely. Perhaps I'm
reading too much in this, and maybe she's only trying to be funny. For me,
though, the device wears thin pretty quickly, and even at only four pages the
story seems too long to make its point. Besides, writers such as Donald
Barthelme and Thomas Berger have done this before, and, to my taste, more
effectively.
Stephen Baxter's "Dante Dreams" is more ambitiously successful in
imagining a time when the Catholic Church has managed to reconcile faith and
science to the point where it conducts its own laboratory research into the
nature of God. In a sort of reversal of the Inquistion, UN sentience cop
Philmus investigates the Vatican's virtual resurrection of a Jesuit
scientist-priest to discover why she committed a gruesome suicide "as if she was
determined to leave not the slightest remnant of her physical or spiritual
presence." The late Eva Himmelfarb had created a virtual reality of Dante's Divine
Comedy in hopes of uncovering God's ineffability. She succeeds, but, somewhat
like Martin in "Oceania," her newfound knowledge proves unbearable.
I'm not quite sure what to make of Robert Reed's "Savior." This is a
story about a man acclaimed as a hero for repelling an alien invasion who is
about to be subjected to a public investigation calling into question his
methods. Just as he is about to take an "honorable" way out to avoid
disgrace, his grandson persuades him to persevere. While the references
to a misunderstood leader about to be "crucified" are obvious, I don't
quite get the point. Neither am I certain whether the failing is mine or the
author's.
In "Ancestral Voices" Gardner Dozois and Martin Swanwick take on the
time-honored SF/horror theme of an alien menace attacking isolated
humans and
still manage to add some suspenseful twists. The protagonist is forced
to make a God-like decision that requires her to suffer for her sacrifice
so that others can benefit. (Note: there is a warning about potentially
disturbing violence in this story which I think is probably overcautious --
there's hardly anything that I would construe as graphically violent content,
although the deaths of certain characters may be unsettling.)
In a non-fictional vein, Robert Silverberg mines similar territory in
recounting his experience as a young frog hunter to find sources for his
adolescent scientific experiments. Although it strikes me as something
hastily written to satisfy deadline pressures, it nonetheless provides
interesting, if superficial, commentary about how even our seemingly
inconsequential unwitting actions may have ramifications in the larger
scheme of things.
As for the larger scheme of SF postulations about humanity's
relationship with divinity, this issue is a worthy revelation.
David Soyka is a former journalist and college teacher who writes the occasional short story and freelance article. He makes a living writing corporate marketing communications, which is a kind of fiction without the art. |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
If you find any errors, typos or anything else worth mentioning,
please send it to editor@sfsite.com.
Copyright © 1996-2013 SF Site All Rights Reserved Worldwide