It's been an exciting week. I was asked to go along to
the BBC to discuss dystopian fiction on Radio 4’s Open Book [the link is here] together with
Gillian Cross whose new book ‘After Tomorrow’ has just been published. Our
conversation is on air this afternoon at 4.00pm,
will be repeated on Thursday afternoon at the same time, and is (I’m told)
available as a BBC podcast.
Gillian’s books are always wonderful. ‘After Tomorrow’ tells the tale of two boys escaping to France through
the Channel Tunnel after an economic and political collapse in Britain. My own dystopian credentials currently rest in
the post-apocalyptic short story ‘Visiting Nelson’ – the germ of the novel I’m
currently writing – published in the Windling/Datlow anthology ‘AFTER’ which
you can see in the margin of this blog - the third cover from the top.
So I thought I might extend the conversation here with
some general thoughts about dystopian and post-apocalyptic YA fiction and its
appeal. And I'd love to hear your own opinions and recommendations.
If a utopia envisions a perfect, well-functioning society
which we’re expected to contrast with the failures of our own, a dystopia does
the opposite. It presents us with a
society which is dysfunctional, which has gone badly wrong – in which aspects
of our own contemporary society are pushed to an extreme. Utopias and dystopias have always been
forms of social criticism, not just ‘imaginary worlds’. Tolkien’s Mordor would be an unpleasant place to live,
but it isn't and was never intended to be a dystopia - any more than beautiful Lothlorien is a utopia. Nothing
about either of them critiques contemporary society. But a dystopia is about us, living our own lives in our own world, reflected in a glass,
darkly.
Dystopias and post-apocalyptic novels are often confused
with one another: but – if you think about them in terms of Venn diagrams – it’s easy to
spot the differences. In the circle labelled ‘dystopias’ are books about
bad, usually highly controlling societies which need to be defied, reformed, reshaped. In the circle labelled ‘post-apocalyptic
fiction’, the books pose a different challenge.
A catastrophe has changed the world for ever: the characters’ task is to
survive and rebuild. Where the two
circles touch and overlap, there are books which combine elements of
both. A post-catastrophic world may well
spawn a dystopian society.
Dyslit, to use
Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow’s convenient coinage, is a tremendously
dramatic way of writing about society, and society is a subject which deeply interests many young
adult readers.
Where children accept their parents’ belief systems as a given,
teenagers are full of questions. They want to make up their own minds, to test and try and decide things for themselves. Often they are passionate and
idealistic and wherever they live, under whatever political system, they look
at it with fresh, critical eyes, working out what’s good, what’s bad, what could
be changed for the better? They are
the future: it’s theirs to mould and create, and they want to learn how – and
we should want them to learn! Dystopian fiction is a forum for socio-political argument. It takes elements of the world we
live in and holds them up to the light.
Thus, Scott Westerfield’s ‘Uglies’ and its sequels question
the cult of beauty, the pressure to conform to unrealistically high standards,
asking: What if everyone underwent plastic surgery as soon as they were sixteen
or so, as a sort of initiation into adulthood? That’s obviously not happening
around us, is it? Oh – wait a minute… Or
what about reality shows and media violence?
Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games examines a world in which the
government runs gladiatorial shows in which people are actually killed. We know this is not
impossible. It happened in the past, in
ancient Rome. In some guise, could it happen again?
No wonder dystopian fiction is so popular: it deals with
real-world, often highly politicized questions: How much power should a government have to
rule the lives of its people? What will
happen when the oil runs out/the seas rise/the world warms or freezes? How would you cope with a
terrorist attack/nuclear war/a global pandemic?
Would you be emotionally strong enough? Could you survive? Dystopian fiction imaginatively represents the individual
challenges, perhaps reminding the reader of comforts and conveniences we take for
granted. (How would you wash your hair?
Keep dry? Light a fire? Purify drinking water? Could you personally kill an
animal for food?) In Jo Treggiari’s ‘Ashes, Ashes’, set amid the ruins of New York, something as
small as a untied or broken shoelace can be a minor disaster, threatening your
mobility and perhaps your survival. What does the future hold for us?
What about the political issues in daily discussion around us:
devolution, independence, immigration, religious intolerance, the freedom of the citizen versus the power of the state? Where will the internet society take us
next? What about virtual realities,
online lives: what roles will these things play? Will we retain our humanity? And what is it, anyway,
to be human?
Most dyslit protagonists are young, passionate characters caught
up in the mesh of their own problematic society and starting to ask these
essential, awkward questions. The problems they face include numerous moral challenges. When survival is the key, should they selfishly look after themselves - or help someone else? Do they have the strength, the moral fibre to stand up and say 'this is wrong', when society declares it to be normal and right?
Though some people regard dystopian fiction as very dark - and it can be - it can also be inspiring, because it celebrates courage
and hope, self reliance and compassion, the ability to look with a critical eye at the world we inhabit, and the desire to make that world a better place.
In no particular order - and in no way intended as a comprehensive list! - here
are some titles I've enjoyed, a mixture of adult and childrens' fiction, old and new, obvious and less obvious. Please add your own recommendations in the comments!
Aldous Huxley – Brave New World
George Orwell – 1984
Margaret Atwood – The Handmaid’s Tale
William Golding – Lord of the Flies
John Wyndham – The Kraken Wakes, The Day of the Triffids,
The Chrysalids
Peter Dickinson – The Changes Trilogy (even though the
collapse of mechanized society in these books eventually turns out to have a
supernatural cause, the workings-out of the changed Britain are practical and
striking.)
Robert O’Brien – Z for Zachariah
Patrick Ness – Monsters of Men
Julie Bertagna – Exodus
Paolo Bacigalupi – Ship Breaker
Jo Treggiari – Ashes, Ashes
Melvin Burgess – Bloodtide
Malorie Blackman – Noughts and Crosses
Scott Westerfield – Uglies
BR Collins – Gamerunner
I've read about half of the books on your list, plus other YA dystopians. Interesting, really, that the adult ones have depressing endings, in general, whereas many YA dystopians end with the heroine - and it's nearly always a heroine - saving the world and spending her life with one of the two boys who were in love with her during the trilogy(and it's usually a trilogy). So the dystopians - at least the ones aimed at teenagers - are actually optimistic. Mind you, The Hunger Games trilogy, while it does end with the evil President and he evil rebel leader overthrown, and the heroine married to her boy of choice, doesn't quite feel like a happy ending. Not quite. She is all too aware that it could happen again and has lost people she loved. It's probably what sets it apart from the lesser YA dystopians - I think that one will be a classic.
ReplyDeleteYou're right, Sue - and that's probably generally true of adult fiction versus YA fiction and childrens' - that writers for the younger age-groups usually take care to end with hope. Maybe too much care? Who would want a happy ending to 1984 or Lord of the Flies...? Perhaps adults are expected to be able to recognise and enjoy satire more readily. I didn't mention the prevalance of heroines with two boys to choose between, in YA dystopias, but I know exactly what you mean. I'm not sure I think it's always a good thing. It's becoming something of a commonplace if not a cliche - but a love affair does humanise the protagonists and offers some alleviation of the general darkness and violence.
ReplyDeleteI've just been reading an 'after the apocalypse', Raymond Briggs's 'When the Wind Blows.' Very dark indeed. The Chrysalids, which you've mentioned, is the only post-nuclear Holocaust novel I can think of, and, though for adults, it does have a happy ending, though brutal in its way.
ReplyDeleteRiddley Walker - the best post-Apocalypse novel bar none... except maybe When the Wind Blows...
ReplyDeleteYes, who on earth would stick a 'happy ending' on to 1984? I think dystopia, and 1984 in particular, is really interesting in discussing what YA literature is - in no way does 1984 fit the usual template for a YA (the protagonists are not teenagers, it has the most depressing ending ever) and yet everyone I know read it as a teenager and never forgot it exactly because it is a novel of ideas about society that makes you angry, makes you think, makes you question - all those things, as you say, teenagers want to do.
And while I agree that throwing in a love story is humanising, I too am uneasy with it - I feel it can veer very easily into Jane Austen with zombies territory.
Why is there not an 'Utlit' to balace the current vogue for 'Dyslit', do you think? (Or Utolit perhaps, sounds very 1984-ian...)
Leslie, thankyou for mentioning 'When the Wind Blows' - wonderful, heartbreaking book! Robert O'Brien's 'Z for Zachariah' is a post-nuclear book, and I found it electrifying as a teenager. It's still excellent.
ReplyDeleteLily, I like the idea of Utopialit! In fact, the edges do blur. A lot of dystopias are touted as utopias by the people who run them, aren't they -
Interesting discussion!
Great post - thank you. I'd like to add Moira Young's "Blood Red Road" and the amazing world of "Incarceron" by Catherine Fisher.
ReplyDeleteWonderful -- thank you. And I too would like to add the recently published "Thaliad" by YA author Marly Youmans (although she wrote for both adults and young adults). It's a gorgeous piece, written in free verse, with beautiful illustrations by Welsh artist Clive hicks Jenkins.
ReplyDeleteThankyou both! I've not heard of 'Thaliad' and will look out for it. Sounds lovely.
ReplyDelete