What's the Point of Science Fiction?

I saw Looper two weeks ago, and have been thinking about the role of science fiction ever since. Despite the (self-admitted) logical flaws of the film, it was beautiful. I am very biased; I'm a sucker for any film noir-esque Sci-Fi, and I think that Raymond Chandler would have been  proud of the first half of this film. I love stories that mix retro and futuristic elements, and I adore what Isaac Asimov calls "soft" or "social" science fiction (i.e. driven by idea, character, social implications, and atmosphere). However, Looper was not merely an exciting chase movie and the story of one surprisingly effective make-up job. It asked The Big Questions: what makes a person good or bad? How does a person become good? Do the ends justify the means? What is worth the sacrifice of a life? What is worth loving? 

Many people see science fiction as pure escapism; it often is just that. Others focus on how speculative media presents us with real life filtered through metaphor to make everything shinier and more interesting. Perhaps speculative fiction is meant to inspire, because if such-and-such a hero can overcome their obstacles, embrace hope instead of cynicism, etc., then surely we, with our little first world problems and our small emotional grievances, can do so.

                               

However, I think that this attitude may sell the real world short. Great stories do not use hyperbole and analogy because real life is not *quite* exciting enough. I would argue that they use highly symbolic, imaginative methods because we have forgotten that real life is in fact that vivid. 

No sacrifice, no matter how small, fails to be beautiful.

No act of love, no matter how mundane, is less than groundbreaking.

No connection, no relationship, no movement of the heart would fail to stun us if we could see it fully. 

Stories do not inspire us by giving us something more beautiful than actual life to yearn for. They remind us of the potential of every real breath to be wonderful, terrifying, and anything but boring. 

A Matter of Employment

A big brouhaha has been made over the following two articles this week:

http://www.thedailybeast.com/galleries/2012/04/23/the-13-most-useless-majors-from-philosophy-to-journalism.html

http://newsweek.tumblr.com/post/21784902381/the-13-most-useful-college-majors-as-determined-by

The primary question implied is:

Should the primary purpose of education be self-actualization or career prep? In other words, should I choose a major that I love even if it is not a statistically "successful" or "lucrative" major?

I have very complicated feelings about these issues. I was a Communications major with a minor in Philosophy. Secretly (alright, not so secretly), I yearned to be an English Lit major and spend most of my academic energy explicating poetry, but I was advised not to do so. After graduating with a BA in Communications, I was almost immediately able to find an entry-level job in Marketing (Entertaining note: the question "So...er...WHY would you minor in Philosophy?" came up during my first interview).

Two years later, I was lucky enough to begin a full-time online teaching opportunity that included AP Lit, AP Language, and Creative Writing. That was last August, and I have never looked back; I am so, so incredibly blessed to be paid to discuss sonnets and science fiction. This spring I was able to add a small 4th class as well: Junior High Writing.

Ironically, I might not have my current job had I actually been an English (or Education) major. If I had majored in English, it is possible that I would not have been able to find a professional job of ANY kind immediately after school. I would not have gained the life, writing, and professional experience that allowed my current supervisor to be confident about hiring me.

However, I did choose a major/minor that I enjoyed, and that I (correctly) judged would be able to "segue" into something more preferable. If I had been a nursing major, I would probably make more money at the moment, but I would not be as happy. Oh, yes - while I love my job, I am not rolling around in bon bons and caviar. I make *just* enough money (and, like many teachers, do not receive regular summer paychecks). However, since I am technically an independent contractor and not (for example) a unionized high-school teacher, my enrollment numbers have the potential to expand almost exponentially. I have already begun to see the fruit of this. My marketing experience has helped with this as well; my Junior High Writing class AND a summer writing course were both designed and marketed entirely by me. I personally know people who have built sustainable careers doing what I am doing; I have nothing but admiration and respect for their energy and motivation.

All of this boils down to: study something that you enjoy, please. However, you MUST be realistic about your own abilities and be prepared to discipline yourself. Ask yourself the following questions:

1. Can I realistically say that I have talent in this field?

2. Am I willing to live frugally without (much) whining in order to pursue a career in this field?

3. Am I willing to CONSISTENTLY discipline myself to improve my skills, market myself, and gain the respect of future employers?

If the answer to ANY of those questions is "no" or even "maybe", then, perhaps you need to be more honest with yourself. If you feel that you must have a certain amount of money to be happy, then please choose a major that will be the most likely to bring you that money - or maybe re-evaluate your priorities.

I do believe that you should chase what inspires you; however, dreams without discipline mean absolutely nothing.

Flannery O'Connor vs. Don Draper

Right now I am reading Flannery O'Connor's Mystery and Manners and preparing to teach a few sections. The following passage stood out to me:

“Unless we are willing to accept our artists as they are, the answer to the question, "Who speaks for America today?" will have to be: the advertising agencies. They are entirely capable of showing us our unparalleled prosperity and our almost classless society, and no one has ever accused them of not being affirmative. Where the artist is still trusted, he will not be looked to for assurance. Those who believe that art proceeds from a healthy, and not from a diseased, faculty of the mind will take what he shows them as a revelation, not of what we ought to be but of what we are at a given time and under given circumstances; that is, as a limited revelation but revelation nevertheless.” 

-Flannery O'Connor, Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose

What is O'Connor saying here? Is it really a problem if advertising, not art, speaks for us? Why should we trust artists? 
Let us compare the role of the advertiser with the role of the artist. They are almost completely at odds with each other.  

On one hand, consider the following quote from Mad Men's Don Draper (advertising agent extraordinaire): "Advertising is based on one thing: happiness. And you know what happiness is? Happiness is the smell of a new car. It's freedom from fear. It's a billboard on the side of the road that screams reassurance that whatever you are doing is okay. You are okay." (Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, 1.1)

On the other hand, we have the role of the writer and artist: to tell stories that, according to  O'Connor, are often perceived as "hard, hopeless, and brutal". Using a few of  O'Connor's themes as examples, the artist forces us to ask ourselves:  What if I'm not any better than those whose lifestyles I hold in contempt? What if God loves the people I hate? What if everything I thought had value is worthless? What if I can't avoid death and suffering? What if I am ridiculous? What if I have ignored the beauty life has to offer?"  

It is tempting for a complacent society to reject anything weird, bizarre, or unsettling from an artist. We naturally seek what is comforting and run away from danger. We run towards assurance and avoid self-evaluation. The artist, however, exists (in part) to unsettle. To declare that there are no easy answers, but that the difficult questions are worth thinking about. To show us our own ugliness and our own capacity for beauty. To portray us not "as we ought to be" or as we see ourselves, but to reveal "what we are".

We may not want to trust the artist because we instinctively distrust that which unsettles us. Why should we trust the man or woman who forces us to look into the most confusing aspects of humanity? Art does not exist to reassure; it exists to inform, to question, to reveal, to inspire, to elevate, and to change minds. This does not mean shocking for the sake of shocking - that is the ultimate act of ego. It does mean (possibly) shocking for the sake of making a legitimate point. That can potentially be an act of artistic integrity. 

The advertiser tells us: You are okay. You can afford this. Everything is alright.

The artist tells us, to quote Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, "Nothing costs enough here." 

The advertiser tells us: Fear is easy to avoid.

The artist pulls back the curtain from the things we fear; foremost among them, ourselves.

(Of course, putting things in perspective, marketing is useful and can be great fun :-))