The Letters to the Editor department is intended to be a forum for our readers to express their own opinions and ideas. While we appreciate the many complimentary letters we receive each day, you won't find them on this page. Instead, you will find letters that go beyond or even contradict what we have written, letters that offer a different perspective and provide a different view of science fiction.
— Scott Edelman, Editor-in-Chief
Send us your letters!
Got a gripe about something going on in the science fiction world? Want to call attention to an overlooked genre gem? Do you disagree with one of our reviews? Would you like to tell the editor of Science Fiction Weekly what a great job he does? Write a letter to the editor and send it in! You'll have the satisfaction of knowing that your letter will be read by thousands of SF fans. Doubtless, fame and fortune will follow (fame and fortune not guaranteed). If you would like to submit a letter, please use our feedback form or send a message to scifiweekly@scifi.com.
his is getting quite silly. Every week I read the Science Fiction Weekly letters column
religiously, because usually there will be something provocative or at least interesting in there. But lately what I have been reading is skewed so far in one direction or the other that it's become just plain annoying.
If it isn't Buffy, and how horrible it is that Buffy the Vampire Slayer was canceled, it's how deep and wonderful a show it was, or how terrible it had gotten ("Buffy Finale Was Indeed Empowering", "Buffy Finale Has Little Girl Power"). That's
Annoying Point 1. Annoying point 2 is how amazingly stuck up this group of letter writers has become. If it isn't a book then I guess it isn't sci-fi. Which is clearly bollocks. Absolutely, there has been a lot of crap produced in the last few years. Not a doubt about that. I mean, ID4? Utter complete crap.
But simply because a film has a lot of effects does not
automatically, and without regard to anything else, make it bad. Personally, since someone mentioned it [last] week, I find A.I. to be a fine sci-fi movie, if very long and over-wrought; and just a little too much saccharine. However, I can see our society becoming that way—the flesh fest, the psuedo-racism, the conversion of simple maintenance and labor droids to pleasure bots. That actually seems pretty realistic, all the while being fantastic, since, hey, look what they did to the 'net.
I keep noting in letter after letter that, while people keep looking for quality stories, few examples, and fewer details, of what quality may be are elusive. The only thing most can seem to agree on is the idea that there are too many effects. Which, on the whole, is crap. Good effects can lift a mediocre story to something you'll want to see again, while bad effects are difficult to get past even with a great story. It's disconcerting and jarring to be following along a good story and all of a sudden you see something look terrible and your frame of reference is broken and you're back in the real world, in a dark room again, and the magic is gone.
So what is it exactly that you're looking for? Certainly not the "human drama" thing. That's what we have About a Boy for, not sci-fi. Somehow, deep in the recesses of my psyche, I don't think Hugo was thinking that when he started his mag—I have a few copies and it seems to be just good fun and an eye toward the future and the possibilities it holds. Maybe Asimov had the idea to "ennoble" us or somesuch, possibly Clarke too, yet still—wouldn't, say, The Matrix and its sequels do just that? Remind us that no matter the environment or circumstances or tech, that we overcome by simple human nature? What are you asking for?
Matrix Reloaded is the middle of a story arc. While being discretely packaged as it is, from a story perspective it is required to have a beginning,
middle, and end, but it itself is a middle. So to A) have no real conclusion, and B) have strange things we don't yet understand, is neither problematic nor bad storytelling. There were new concepts introduced into the world of the Matrix, and despite what any idealists would like to think, new concepts is the real bread and butter of good sci-fi. The idea that individual programs can break off from an entire society of nothing but programs, and take sides with the biologicals, that to me is fascinating. That others will take neither side and indulge in
indulgence, is just as fascinating.
What are you looking for?
Mr. Hood ("SF Should Be Sipped Like Fine Wine") seems to have been blurring some lines and twisting a couple things of his own saying that Signs is bad SF. It was quite refreshing to see a simple
raiding party rather than a complete invasion—the aliens, while not particularly compelling, provided a different side from which to view interstellar culture. Not much of a culture, being raiders, but whatever. I also didn't see a lot of new-age stuff in there. I wonder what his specific points were behind that statement? I think Mr. Hood truly is a fanboy himself, trying very hard to purposely set himself aside from society as society has already set him aside. I've re-read his letter three times now and still can't determine what he really wants to see. Ursula Le Guin is an excellent writer. No doubts. But what is he seeing there that he is not seeing in other places?
I think Shane Stephenson ("Genre Alone Shouldn't Define Sci-Fi") has some good points, and I agree with him on anime and comics, but still, we're missing what we actually want to see occur, what we are looking to define a good sci-fi story as. I want to see characters that are either using interesting tech to solve interesting problems (take your
pick—interstellar colonization, resource management, military conflict, spiritual awareness) or are presented circumstances that require them to interact with different races and explore those cultures.
Those are my personal baselines. Of course, the details of these circumstances are what makes things come alive. The details of the characters lives, the color with which the environments are described, the twists that move story along, all in the context of off planet or in the future. To me, I can justify nearly any story as being in some portion of the subcategories. It's a wide definition, a wide set of requirements. In my personal set of criteria, everything from Starship Troopers to Enterprise can be fitted in and graded as to quality accordingly. So I think a dictionary style definition is not the real question. I think the quality is the question.
I hate episodic sci-fi. Haven't liked it since Next Generation ended. If you're going to have a universe big enough to contain a TV series, it needs to be continuous and have consequences. This is why TV sci-fi turns bad. Story after story with little carrying over, little affecting little. This is why Babylon 5 and Farscape did so well; we watched characters grow as direct results from their actions from god knows when, causing ripples in the latest installment we were
watching.
That, I think, is a big reason that book snobs are so adamant about sci-fi in the visual mediums not being quite as good. In a book, or a series, everything flows from one point to another as direct consequence.
So.
What do you really want?
Adrian Hunter
spamguardadrianh@pop.snet.net
onald Hood's argument on why hard SF is so superior to "mainstream" SF made
me reflect on golf ("SF Should Be Sipped Like Fine Wine"). Before Tiger Woods dominated the sport, golf fans seemed proud of the fact that the sport only appealed to "certain people," that is, rich white males. Yet, they were perplexed why the sport didn't garner the respect and audience of baseball, for example. The answer was obvious: What rational person wants to hang out with a bunch of extremely racist, sexist jerks?
Similarly, A Wizard of Earthsea won't likely win any new readers since no one wants to purchase a novel recommended by a self-absorbed, obnoxious SF fan like Mr. Hood. By contrast, Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone became an mammoth hit because J.K. Rowling eschewed multimillion dollar marketing blitzes and slinging mud at competitors in favor of letting the book sell itself. Sure enough, kids discovered the novel, enjoyed it and recommended it to others.
Hence, simple word-of-mouth turned Rowling's books into a fantasy phenomenon rivaling and, in some way, exceeding Lord of the Rings. This is remarkable considering booksellers, librarians and teachers had all but given up on kids reading books for pleasure instead on school assignments. Furthermore, the adult fanbase for the series quickly eclipsed those of Neil Gaiman, Stephen King, Michael Crichton and every other author you can name. Like any smart writer, Rowling understands that success comes from welcoming new readers instead of demeaning them for their lack of "fantasy novel literacy."
Another issue I have with Mr. Hood is his assertion that hard SF fans are more inherently intelligent and well-read that the general public. So, why did he incorrectly describe M. Night Shyamalan's Signs as twisted New Age propaganda? New Age religions are based on the belief that humans can find within themselves the capacity to become morally perfect, superior beings either through reincarnation or raising one's consciousness to a higher
plane. Thus, 2001: A Space Odyssey would be more worthy of Mr. Hood's ire because it is a true New Age sci-fi film. After all, the film concludes with an astronaut travelling down a psychedelic vortex to be reborn as the godlike Starchild.
On the other hand, the foundation for Signs is clearly Christianity, which is the polar opposite of New Age religions. As a result, humans in the film are portrayed as being too dumb, weak, fallible, vain, petty, stubborn and corrupt to better themselves much less the world around them. (Watch CNN for ten minutes, and you will soon start agreeing with this dim view of our
species.) The only way we can truly improve ourselves is to repent of our sins, have faith in God and always seek His guidance. Naturally, this viewpoint will infuriate some hard SF fans because they and the rest of mankind are reduced to barely evolved animals in desperate need of a Savior.
Yet, Signs is a great film precisely because Mr. Shyamalan stands by its ideology rather than wimp out with some pseudo-scientific (New Age?) resolution to appease the nay sayers.
Two important lessons have been revealed by Mr. Hood's rant. The first is that hard SF fans help further marginalize the subgenre with their elitist attitude toward the mainstream. Why would you want to indulge in a form of entertainment that doesn't respect you or want your business? The other lesson is that too many hard SF readers are far more juvenile and ignorant
than the general public they look down upon. An "enlightened" fan would have at least looked up the term, New Age, in a dictionary to ensure he really knew what he was discussing. If Mr. Hood represents the best public relations man for hard SF, the future of the subgenre is very bleak indeed.
Frederick D. Weaver
Duane106@olg.com
was both offended and amused by the last batch of letters where several folks all had different viewpoints about what sci-fi is, where it is going, or not going, as the case may be ("Griping Is Good for Science Fiction", "Defining SF Is Always Difficult", "SF Should Be Sipped Like Fine Wine", "Genre Alone Shouldn't Define Sci-Fi").
It all boils down to this: Sci-fi is an odd genre. It isn't as cut-and-dry as, say, a mystery or horror novel. In fact, sci-fi can contain elements from both of these genres and still also be sci-fi.
It is for this reason that I think it has a hard time being main stream. It can be so many things; from a books about space colonists that ride dragons (Anne McCaffery's Pern books which she herself always says is sci-fi, not fantasy) to movies with ray guns and androids. (Too many to name in that category.)
That is also why it is hard for sci-fi to succeed on TV. ER will always be about medical issues with personal stuff thrown in, but do a show like Firefly where it is a sort of cowboys-in-space and most folks just don't get it.
So why must fans argue and bicker back and forth about "what is sci-fi?" To me it is all sci-fi. I may not like all of it but to me if it deals with the impossible or unknown and if it has improbable characters and events, then it is science fiction. Remember, folks, the key word there is fiction and fiction can be anything you want it to be.
So stop bickering. Agree to disagree and try and support all sci-fi so that even if they do make silly remakes of Battlestar Galactica, if it does well then it makes it easier for another, possibly better, show to come along. I may not have liked the original Star Trek but if it wasn't for that show many of the truly wonderful shows like Babylon 5, Farscape and even Star Wars may not have been made. And who knows Battlestar might actually step up and surprise you and actually be good.
And to all the hard-core purists out there I say, "Wake up!" There is no rule that says what sci-fi is. It can be fun escapist stuff and it can be theoretical and deep. Relax and enjoy what appeals to you and let everyone make their own choices. You have no right to deny them their fun just as they can't yours.
Cybele Baker
cybelebaker@dwt.com
nn E. Bermingham compares Crusade to Brimstone ("Brimstone Lacked Crusade's Wow")? What? One is a
"paint-by-numbers" science-fiction show, while the other is an extremely edgy horror show. The only common ground that the two programs share are the fantasy elements each used to frame their story arcs and perhaps the fact that both shows were canceled before they had a chance to find a
larger fan base.
In my opinion, Crusade failed because it never really captured the Babylon 5 spirit. My theory is that TNT meddled too much with their wrestling/cowboy suggestions. (TNT should have picked up Firefly! Don't
even get me started on Legend of the Rangers. ...)
Brimstone unfortunately never really had a chance. It was bound to "depress" religious folks that would never really be able to look past the concept. My wife and I were "wowed" week after week, but we also knew deep down that if an X-Files styled buzz didn't erupt at the onset that Brimstone would never be dubbed as "acceptable viewing" for John and Jane Q. Public. History recently repeated itself with the loss of Miracles. Truly a shame.
Robert Cusack
marajade@pdq.net
'd like to take issue with Ann Bermingham's letter ("Brimstone Lacked Crusade's Wow") that Brimstone was nothing but grim and boring. Personally, the series ranks as one of my all-time favorites, despite its short run. Yes, there was a lot that was
grim and gloomy in the show, but all of that was countered by the excellent dialogue and performances of John Glover as the Devil and Peter Horton's Zeke Stone. This pairing is what really made the show shine, as the characters were at times able to have laughs at each other's expense. At others, their meetings were filled with terse, effective dialogue that highlighted their differences. A particular moment that sticks out for me in this regard is when the Devil notes, "The only thing I ever loved was God, and that was a long time ago." I can't pinpoint why this line has stuck with me for so long, but it was powerful enough to have an effect on me at the
time I saw the episode.
Another point of the series that I liked was the concept. The idea of 113 souls escaping from Hell and a "borderline" damned soul being recruited to chase them was very intriguing. The premise wasn't as complex as The X-Files or what Farscape eventually grew into, but it showed definite promise, and delivered on it in the 13 episodes that were made.
Yes, the show was dark, but it had to be. It wasn't aiming for the overtly comedic effect of the rip-off series GvsE. Brimstone was a dark, detective drama with some well-placed black humor that covered subjects that some people may have been uncomfortable about.
It is, of course, futile to believe that the series, as it was originally conceived, could be brought back into production at this stage. However, I will always have fond memories of the series while it lasted, and of how it had begun aiming for even bigger and better things before it was prematurely brought to an end.
Justin Graham
jgraham_70@hotmail.com
am writing in response to Ann E. Bermingham's letter regarding Crusade and Brimstone ("Brimstone Lacked Crusade's Wow"). First, it's obvious that Ms. Bermingham isn't objective in her assessment of Brimstone, in that she's labeled it "dark and boring" and a "depressing pile of crap." Here, the judgement she has made is that "dark must be bad." To be fair, she should have said "dark is not to my taste." I'm sure Ms. Bermingham also has distaste for The X-Files or The New Outer Limits, two other
successful dark shows which had seven year runs, one of which was Brimstone's lead-in on Fox.
If "dark and depressing" is bad, Ms. Bermingham should also avoid The Last Man On Earth with Vincent Price, Richard Matheson's source novel I Am Legend, and also What Dreams May Come (book or film) and,
oh yeah, Shakespeare's Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet. They're dark and depressing, so they can't be any good either.
In reality, Crusade and Brimstone, both of which had excellent production values, can't be compared on the basis of quality because their story-telling goals were quite different:
Crusade is primarily about plot. In fact, it is so stated at the opening of every episode: ("What is your mission?" "To find a cure for the Drakh plague.") The show's focus
and tone wouldn't have changed even if its characters were re-tooled and re-written.
Brimstone, on the other hand, is primarily about characters. If Brimstone wasn't about Zeke Stone's struggle with The Devil, his unfair punishment and the earthly life, it would have quickly degenerated into the "demon of the week" and become more like Kolchak:
The Night Stalker.
Both Crusade and Brimstone failed for the same reason and it wasn't because of a lack of quality. Simply, they weren't given a chance to find their audiences and were canceled too soon.
Like Andromeda, Mutant X, Adventure, Inc., or BeastMaster, I'm sure both shows would have succeeded in syndication.
Roman Gheesling
tienlung@hotmail.com
think Tama Leaver ("Buffy Finale Was Indeed Empowering") may have missed my point "Buffy Finale Has Little Girl Power" regarding Spike's role in saving the day in the Buffy finale. In fact, my point wasn't even so much about Spike as it was a general lack of "girl power" in said finale.
[Warning: Spoilers ahead.]
But to address Spike, he was much more than "one of those who fought to save the world." To be blunt about it, without Spike's presence (and the presence of the amulet), the world would now be under the thrall of The First ... or whatever the heck its goal was. Buffy and the Slayerettes, in the final analysis, did absolutely nothing to save the world. They fought, some died, but ultimately all of their courage and vaunted Slayer power did nothing to tip the balance. The only thing they accomplished was killing a few of the thousands of ubervamps in the Hellmouth and
getting beat on some themselves. I'd agree, though, that this ending does indeed subvert the "narratological expectations of the show itself." The show is about a girl named Buffy, whose destiny is to save the world. But in the end, she does nothing and it is saved instead by a
completely unwilling champion. My point wasn't that Spike helped, but rather that he did all of the work while Buffy and crew, ostensibly the heroes, were little more than useless.
The idea that the finale turned gender roles upside down doesn't hold, though. Yes, we saw gender reversals throughout the whole season, but look beyond the simple fact of those reversals to their consequences. Sure, Giles recognizes Buffy's intelligence and tactical skill, but what
happens when they follow her plans? Buffy's plans fail and they all nearly die or are seriously maimed. So, what's the lesson? Girls need a father figure to do their thinking for them. To a larger extent, this also applies to the destruction of the Watcher Council. Without this far-reaching patriarchal secret society, the remaining Slayers are aimless, with no purpose and little idea how to proceed.
On a simpler level, one can look at Anya and agree that by facing her fear of bunnies, she is standing up for herself and providing an example of female empowerment. But what happens to her? She dies. Great lesson.
Another example of the reinforcement of traditional gender roles can be seen in the relationship between Principal Wood (talk about a phallic name!) and Faith. Faith represents the primal and sexual side of woman. She is portrayed throughout the series as acting on her passions with little heed paid to her cautious and rational side. But along comes Wood, who beds her and then, in the finale, offers to "tame" her, thereby making her power safe for society. As Principal of the school, he is the representative of civilizing patriarchal culture and, as the child of a previous Slayer, he co-opts the traditionally female Slayer power, symbolically if not literally. Through him, Slayer power (and, by extension, female power) becomes acceptable and conforms to the
norms of patriarchal society.
And then there's the finale of the finale, wherein Spike blasts the ubervamps with great big rays of sunlight and causes the Hellmouth to collapse. I'm sure I don't need to tell anyone that the sun is a traditional masculine power (and the moon, feminine). So we have a male character
(who is also a multiple rapist) wielding phallic beams of light to destroy the great big hole in the ground and the minions of an evil being who most frequently appears in the guise of the main female hero of the show, who happens to be the male character's sometime lover. The imagery here is so blunt that it's almost funny.
I've gone on for much longer than I had originally intended and will stop here. While I will agree that the spreading of the Slayer power to girls around the world is an empowering act and symbolic of the empowerment of all women everywhere, I feel that there are many more things within the show, and particularly the final couple of episodes, that continually undercut this positive message.
Patrick Wynne
pat_wynne@yahoo.com
'm a late convert to how good Buffy the Vampire Slayer is/was. While it is interesting to debate over the male vs. female aspect of the show, the series never would have amounted to anything without an incredibly talented group comprised from both genders with the great interplay between all characters concerned.
The real star is creator/writer/producer/director Joss Whedon.
Cliff Ackman
THX1138@EZonline.com
n 1852, as legend has it, hundreds of Americans crowded onto the New York City docks, craning their necks in frantic anticipation of a certain ship coming from Great Britain bearing neither king nor queen, but a unique treasure, not of gold or jewels—the latest installment of Charles Dickens' Bleak House being serialized in the United States.
Just imagine if the creator of Christmas Carol had been visited by the Ghost of Publishing's Future. What would Mr. Dickens have made of Potter-mania which rises to ever greater expectations with the imminent release of J.K. Rowlings' latest?
Much ink has been spilt in Science Fiction Weekly letters praising and pooh-poohing the boy wizard, but no one has to yet to ask why Potter has become the biggest thing to hit the New World since the Beatles.
Harry's originality and literary merits are not the issue. Rowling has cast a sorcerer's spell, turning millions of children and their muggle parents into dedicated readers and paying customers. How? What is this young chap's magical secret?
Magical, perhaps, but hardly a secret. Master Potter is yet another "bridge" character, not unlike the Matrix's Neo or Star Wars Luke, a seemingly ordinary youngster who quickly becomes aware of a world he never knew existed and powers of his own he'd never dreamed of possessing.
"Bridge" characters are not gender exclusive. Alice Liddel and Dorothy Gale ring any bells? Down a rabbit hole and up in a twister, those ordinary girls took us to wondrous new worlds. Remember Anne Darrow, Sarah Conner and Lt. Ripley, three young women leading mundane lives until along came.... Sure, King Kong, Terminator and Alien got their mugs on the title posters, but without the women to make us care and bring us along, the ape, the android and the alien would have closed out of town.
Ageless Greystoke and Kal-el were orphaned as babes and raised by different species; Tarzan and Superman have been taking us on countless adventures ever since.
Far above and beyond Harry Potter is the one book "All modern American literature comes from" (Hemingway) about a young white orphan setting out on a perilous journey to discover himself and America—Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn. Huck's "first contact" with a Negro slave was an alien encounter that outraged much of the nation and resonates to this day.
Which leads us to the big Question: Where's the "bridge" character in printed science fiction? Vegetable, animal or mineral, this individual does not exist. Don't misinterpret me. I'm not saying print SF characters are weak or uninvolving, but for more than a generation, no character born of science fiction printed stock has bridged the galactic gap between the loyal science-fiction market and the hungry masses yearning to read something new, something different, to experience the universe from a fresh perspective, and most important of all, to think.
"It's time to grow up and sell out," declared Mario Puzo before he wrote The Godfather. In dozens of studio thinktanks (as described in Cassult's In the Room) and publishing house editorial offices, committees of novelists and screenwriters are trying desperately to churn out "the sci-fi Harry Potter." Maybe a "hip, young, space cadet hopping to a rap beat" or a "byte-hacking babe who can outfight and outlove any hunk in the Galaxy."
Please. Science fiction is about power and purpose, not piffle. About originality and imagination, not overdone ignorance.
There have been contributors to this column who have insisted that science fiction has never been popular and that is only understood and appreciated by the few rather than the many. Thinking small is not how published science fiction began. Only how it might end.
Will a character ever step out of a modern novel embodying all that science fiction can be and stun the world? Writers of the fantastic never cease to fantasize. In my dreams, a number of SFW letter writers have already crossed that bridge.
Kevin Ahearn
KEVTOMA@aol.com
veryone's so focused on the return of Daniel Jackson on Stargate: SG-1 ("Stargate Needs More Than Cuteness"), that it seems they've missed the little blurb saying that Jack O'Neill's role will be cut back, with no
reason why given. Boo! Hiss! Now that's really messing with the show. Ensemble cast or not, Jack's the lead and the leader! Every show has episodes that highlight various characters, but you don't hide your leading man. How would Star Trek have been if the stories barely showed Kirk and did too many Chekov and Bones stories? Didn't the SCI FI Channel learn from Sliders?
And speaking of Richard Dean Anderson, I'm blown away by how much the actor playing MacGyver's nephew in the upcoming remake looks like him. Incredible casting! That resemblance shows a sensitivity to the viewers' nostalgia and the original show in a way Battlestar Galactica could learn from, and I am really looking forward to its return because of such a promising start (unlike BSG).
Reimaginings are not remakes but bastardizations. Maybe the fault is Hollywood's—that you can't get a new idea sold unless you dress it in something they already know (and has a track record of making money). It sure would explain the dearth of new ideas. Since SF is a niche viewership, the odds are very low that the people in power, making the decisions, are in the niche. Alas.
Barbara Goldstein
psifidoll@attbi.com
Back to the top.
