The Gods Themselves
I think that the title of the book is important on several levels. Firstly, there is a dimension in which is fulfills the job of any good title: it sells books. Grandma Frannie in Florida doesn't read science fiction and she doesn't know Isaac Asimov from Kurt Cobain. However, as she totters around the SciFi section looking for a present for Joey, she sees the word "God", picks it up and sends it off.
The second purpose is to tie the inside and outside of the book together. The sections within the book are titled "Against Stupidity...", "...the Gods Themselves..." and "...Contend in Vain?" Although, taken together, they obviously have significance, they are easy to read over, because they appear only at the beginning of the sections and what the reader really wants to know is inside. By repeating the middle subtitle in the main title, Asimov, reiterates the importance of the message contained in the subtitle. The main title also emphasizes the importance of the middle section. Even though the para-beings only appear once in a three section book, they cannot be ignored, because they make a statement about the book as a whole.
Finally, I think that the title, and the book as a whole, communicates an atheistic message. There are no gods in this book. A god, at least in the general perception, are supposed to have some concern for the welfare of people. Omniscience and omnipotence are also common requirements (spelling is not). Therefore, since none of the characters in the universe or para-universe fit these requirements, none are gods. And, the absence of god is reaffirmed in the last section, when they reveal that the big bang was probably caused by pumping. And pumping, as we just said, is not done by gods.
The subtitles taken together reaffirm the atheistic message. A god would be omnipotent, and would therefore not need to contend in vain against anything. Because there are no omnipotent species, there are no gods. And the closest creatures there are to gods, the ones that seem to be gods, para-universe beings, are both far from godlike and contending in vain against stupidity. I hope my circular logic made sense.
Gods
After reading "The Gods Themselves" I have a few points that I want to highlight. One, the presence of non-humanoid intelligent life. Two, the objectification of women. Three, the use of birth permits in a world where all genetic engineering is outlawed.
A few posts ago, I commented on the absence of any non-humanoid lifeforms in most of the works that we'd read. In "The Dispossessed", Shevek and the other characters are very similar to humans. In fact, the primary characters seem to more closely resemble humans than the Terrans, who are apparently modeled on humans. I felt that the abundance of humanoid creatures was based on the unreasonable assumption that all planets would be most conducive to humanoid lifeforms. I could easily imagine a planet where the human structure would be unreasonable and impractical. I therefore enjoyed Asimov's use of non-humanoid lifeforms in the para-universe. (That is, at least in gender and development, they are not similar to humans.) However, the complete lack of any objective description/explination of soft ones in appearance and nature made the second section of the book hard to get into. This justified other authors use of humanoids somewhat, because it gives the reader a basis of understanding without explanation, but Asimov's invention of a non-human species still shows a greater breadth of imagination.
Secondly, a brief comment on the objectification of women. Even in the para-universe, the female part of the triad is ignored and underrated. The intitial emotional bond is created between the two male triad members, and the female is only added later, almost as an afterthought. (The presence of two males throws into question the very definition of being male. It might be more accurate to represent the soft ones as having three genders. The fact that Asimov does not do this, despite his creative powers, and his decision to make two thirds of the triad- including the most important third- male is another example of the underrating of women. So is the stereotypical depiction of women as more sensitive.) Finally, even in in the real universe, women are objectified. None of the scientists involved in the devlopment of the Proton Pump are female. There are no significant females at all in the first part. The only important woman is Selene, who has limited scientific training, and must rely instead on "Intuition". And, on the last page, even her intellectual contributions are suddenly overshadowed by her role as a child-bearer.
Finally, the odd treatment of genetic engineering. In the world of the novel, the population of the earth has fallen to only two billion. All genetic engineering has been outlawed, even including in vitro fertilization, which is not necessarily a genetic engineering technology. However, citizens of both the earth and the moon must apply for permits to have children. What are they trying to prevent, overpopulation? The presence of nonpolluting, free power in unlimited supply would certainly allow the earth to comfortably support far more than two billion people, and the moon is stated to be ready for an influx in population. Birth rationing is not needed to prevent overcrowding. So, what is it then, but a form of genetic engineering? Although the government does not inspect or engineer the particlar egg and sperm used to create a fetus, the issuing of birth permits does allow them some control over what sort of genes are passed on. By rationing these permits, and denying them to criminals, halfwits, deliquents, and others, the government could easily create a genetic engineering program without a single test-tube baby.
Growing Bureaucracy
On Tuesday, we discussed religion and the role of religion in science fiction almost exclusively. I felt that this emphasis ignored many of the issues involved in “Politics as a Vocation.” Although there were certainly angles of Weber’s analysis that had religious overtones, it was by no means a religious text. By discussing it solely in a religious context, we lost sight of many of the interesting discussion points the essay might have elicited.
One of these was the idea of living “for” or “from” politics that some people brought up in class. However, one I found even more fascinating was the development of the “bureaucratic” system of government. For those of us living in the United States today, the idea of feudal style government is entirely unimaginable. We are fully adjusted to the idea of civil servants who run government programs that they have no personal stake in. In fact, we are used to the idea that the administrators of many federal programs may actually have less material wealth than those they are administering too (excepting welfare program administrators, of course).
In our minds, bureaucratic and feudal systems are completely dissociated. One is the current norm, while the other is an outmoded system abandoned in the Middle Ages. What Weber wants us to see, is that the transition from feudal to bureaucratic government was actually gradual, the latter grew out of the former. Initially, in order to consolidate and maintain their power, lords hired people who were without personal property under the feudal system and paid them directly from their personal treasury in order to create a class of servants loyal solely to them.
This class of loyal servants slowly transformed into the bureaucrats that we know and love. The entire development of bureaucratic government is an important part of Weber’s essay, and relates both to his concept of living “from” politics, and, in great measure to the role of religious figures in politics (many of the original bureaucrats were religious officials), but it was entirely ignored in our class. I understand that we were talking about religion and politics, and especially messiahs, but these are still important ideas, and they deserve to be looked at.
Journalism and Politics
The part of Weber's essay that I found most intriguing was his description of the relation between journalism and politics. On the surface, there was the interesting revelation that newspaper articles at that time were anonymous, something I had never known, but there was also a respect for journalists in Weber's account that I have seldom encountered. Especially due to recent scandals about journalists inventing stories, I feel that there has been a growing disdain for the journalistic profession. Journalists are often regarded as pariah's and a blight on society, when in actuality they provide a valuable service. Weber argues that journalists are better informed and required to adhere to a higher standard than are most politicians. So why don't many journalists become politicians?
Of course, the current position of journalism is quite different than the one in Weber's day. Journalism is no longer an anonymous pursuit and the proliferation of tabloids and tabloid magazines masquerading as journalism (and paparazzi masquerading as journalists) has not helped the profession's reputation. Also, I believe that the loss of anonymity has, if anything, hurt the prospect for individuals to make the leap from journalist to outright politician. In anonymity it would, naturally, be difficult to establish your credentials as a political knowledgable. However, with your name/face attached to every piece you cover, you risk losing credibility by revealing your political views publically. Your journalistic career is likely to collapse under you before the political one is established.
Messiah (n.)
Is Paul a messiah? Not surprisingly considering the week’s title, that question, and the word “messiah”, kept cropping up during our discussion Tuesday. There is nothing wrong with this, in itself, but I feel that the word “messiah” was being used to represent a multitude of meanings, and that the discrepancies in usage clogged the discussion. I picked up on three predominant usages of “messiah.” The first was a more Christian definition, in which “messiah” symbolized a divine/God-like figure. The second was a more Mohammad-based figure. Although still religious, this type of messiah does not have the same divine overtones and is far more human. The third interpretation was much more loose, and not necessarily religious, it was merely that the “messiah” must fit the definition provided by the culture he (ever heard of a female messiah?) is messiah-ing to. I understand the reasons for these discrepancies; however, I feel that they were really interfering with the flow of our discussion. Our obsession with whether Paul was a Messiah, and our inability to agree on that one point, prevented the progression of our discussion to other points. So, my own personal answer to the question I posed at first? I don’t care. Let’s move on.
Dune-love
I noted a lot of obsession with Dune in the postings I was reading on other sites. Ok, it was a good book, but you can stop the love-fest now!! Dune is not a perfect world. It certainly is not an ideal we should aspire too!!
The Doom of Dune's Women
I know that some people commented on the role of women in the first few books that we read, specifically in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. At the time, I was not particularly bothered by the representation of women in that book, but I found the portrayal of women in Dune extremely disturbing. I believe that there were two primary factors that contributed to the difference in my perception of the works: 1) in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress assumed that women were making important contributions offstage, so to speak; and 2) Dune is the type of book that I might easily read for fun and never think twice about.
The first of these is easily explained. Anna (and others?) was disturbed by Wyoh’s initial appearance as a strong character and later submission to the judgment of the men around her. I was not as disturbed by this, because I assumed (perhaps incorrectly) that Wyoh and other women were making important contributions off-stage. There were references to Wyoh’s work with the stilyagi, and, of course, the understanding that the revolutionary organization was made up of thousands of people. Most of these people never became characters, but their role was still important, and many of them were probably women. Besides, there were fewer women on the planet, so the fact that many of the main characters were male was only expected, given the demographics. In general, I was willing to accept that women did not play a significant onstage role in the story.
Dune bothered me much more. Of course, there are strong women in this book, Jessica in particular is very important. However, all the important women, Jessica, Alia, Chani, Irulan, are Bene Gesserit (or at least have Bene Geserit abilities). Although men, such as Stilgar, can be valued merely for his strong arm and his wisdom, women are of no import unless they also have mystical powers (or are good in bed). An excellent example of this is Jessica. When Jessica and Paul are initially located by Stilgar’s tribe, they decide to keep Paul and kill his mother. They only change their mind after they discover that she has the “weirding” abilities. If she is a sayyadina, and a potential Reverend Mother, she can live, but otherwise her non-Fremenness means she must be relieved of her water (i.e. killed). Paul needs to prove no such value, he is spared on the word of Liet-Kynes.
Dune is the type of book that I could easily read on my own and the lack of solid roles for women wouldn’t affect me at all. However, I would not have considered it as a science fiction book. The entire aspect of its being set in the future would never have occurred to me. I would think of it more as a fantasy fiction book with some technology. I caught the references to a past in which humanity (Earth’s humanity?) partially destroyed itself, but I would consider the entire book more in line with books of people shipwrecked on a distant planet where magic happens. In short, in my thinking, the past revolution is the dues-ex-machina of Dune and the story itself is fantasy. With good weapons.
Why does seeing Dune in the light of the future bother me more? Because I do not want to envision the “future of world politics” looking anything like the world of Dune. I am willing to accept a society in which women hold a place inferior to men because they are physically less strong and society has not yet advanced to see past this weakness. (Although an interesting question is whether women truly are less capable in Dune, after all, Paul bests Jamis in the dessert and is then found by Chani, who might be able to best him if she so desired.) However, I do not want to accept that some event could obliterate all the progress of women in modern society without totally erasing all of human history.
I truly did enjoy Dune, and looking at it merely in the context of entertainment, well, it is entertaining. However, as a piece of social science, it is disturbing. What is the message? Is the place of women so fragile that any disruption in the social order will return them to their historical place? Are women truly so worthless that they can give nothing to society unless they have mystical powers? Are women so unskilled that even in a society hanging onto survival by their fingertips (i.e. the Fremen) can find no use for them besides breeding new little sons for the army? All of these implications, and many more, can be read into the representation of women in Dune and I like none of them. Personally, I want to envision a different future for world politics.
Manifest Destiny vs. Imperialism
After our class, I still felt unsatisfied with our discussion of assimilation, both in terms of Manifest Destiny and the U.S. culture in general. First of all, the generalization that immigrants assimilate into mainstream America’s Anglo-Saxon culture after two or three generations is blatantly false. I understand that, after time, most groups do adopt the English language and American customs; however, there are groups that have lived in the United States for hundreds of years and still retain their own culture almost completely separate from those around them. The best examples of this that I can come up with on the spur of the moment are the Amish, Mennonites and Creoles. I recognize that these are fringe groups, but that does not negate the fact that many of them are tenth-or-more generation Americans and they still do not speak English as their primary language. There are less extreme examples as well; the “American” culture differs as you move from region to region, and many of those differences come from differences in the predominant culture of origin of the areas residents. Although assimilation may appear complete on the surface, the underlying dissimilarities and desires of individuals to hold onto something, no matter how small, from the country of their ancestors cannot be denied.
I believe that the originators and propagators of “manifest destiny” also recognized this tendency and that Stephanson is aware of these thoughts in his book. On page 81, Stephanson says “When the world was finally ‘English in its language, in its political habits and traditions, and in the blood of its people,’ the end would have been reached. . . .” This shows clearly that advocates of manifest destiny new that they could never convert people whose whole history was tied up in indigenous populations to the American way. The goal was therefore to dilute native blood with ancestry from the conquerors. Once the population was racially indistinguishable from the conquerors, there would be no reason to resist their views. Holding onto the indigenous history would be useless, because their personal connection to that history would be tenuous at best. There would be a much stronger argument for embracing the Anglo-Saxon mentality, whose ancestral connection could be indubitably proved.
The idea of erasing differences in bloodlines is one of the main factors that differentiates manifest destiny from imperialism. Imperialism counts on exploiting the native people for the profit of the home country. Although some mixing of blood may exist in imperialistic endeavors, the new culture generally builds a class system that privileges colonists of the mother country over the indigenous population. South African apartheid, after all, was the dominance of the black majority by the white minority, and that minority gained their power through their connection with the original colonizers. Imperialism must rely on the continued existence of the indigenous population because they are the ones who will do the work that will enrich the empire. Manifest destiny, however, is different. It relies more on a system of decimating and relocating the indigenous population in order to make the population as racially and culturally homogenous as possible. Theoretically, these populations might also be absorbed through intermarriage, but, in all likelihood, the culture pursuing its manifest destiny would not want to sully its family with the blood of the indigenous peoples and would prefer to push them aside. The key here is not the exploitation of the people for the wealth of the mother country, but the exploitation of the land for the purposes of God. I do not dispute that the effect may be the same, but I strongly maintain that the theory is different.
Manifest Destiny across the genres
Manifest Destiny disturbed me deeply. The facts about the United States’ territorial expansion were not new to me, but I had never read such a comprehensive account of the schools of thought that justified such expansion. In particular, the justification that God had selected the American people to civilize other nations was troubling. That is the same justification being used retrospectively for the U.S. invasion of Iraq. Since there were no Weapons of Mass Destruction, there has been a posthumous attempt to declare that that was not our goal. However, the goal replacing it is instilling democracy in Iraq. That was the same goal the U.S. expressed with regards to the Philippines and others. It was the United States’ duty to civilize a backward people. The question of democracy was less clear-cut, because they questioned whether such backwards people could ever be trusted with it, but, in general, much of the rhetoric is eerily reminiscent. Have we returned to 1900?
Another thought I had about the idea of “manifest destiny” regarded Star Trek. There are several conflicting representations of manifest destiny in the show. On the one hand, the Borg clearly feel it is their duty and destiny to assimilate all races and make one universal collective. (“You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”) But the Federation also seems to have a sense of its own manifest destiny of expansion as well. Although the Prime Directorate prevents them from interfering with primitive races, they expect every race to join them after it develops Warp capabilities. Both of these theories of manifest destiny are thrown into question during the course of the show. Of course, most resist assimilation into the Borg, but the escape of Guinan and others of her race show that, although resistance may be difficult, it is possible. Furthermore, the episode (not movie) “First Contact” that we watched last week, questions the Federation’s manifest destiny when some races choose their own independence and self-importance over unity with others.
