Caldwell 1 Jeff Caldwell Professor Savage CSCT 769 21 November 2013 (x)topian Visions Introduction My initial intention of this

discussion paper was to consider a history of dystopian fiction. However, as I began textual harvesting, it became apparent that the term dystopian could, if considered contemporarily, include almost any speculative narrative. If considered classically, dystopian might only apply to a selection of narratives produced in the first fifty (or less) years of the twentieth century. In the same way speculative fiction is an ambiguous term, all fiction is speculative by nature. Importantly as well, no two sources agree on a definition. Ruppert points to the same dilemma when facing similar problems while considering utopian narratives: Simply stated, utopian film confounds easy classification because it exceeds the normal bounds of genre description. The varied settings, plots, narrative and visual styles that may be identified as utopian straddle just about every

Caldwell 2 existing genre and draw on a variety of conventions and expectations. (Ruppert 139) As todays technology comes into a consilience with science fiction of the past, there is an accelerated rise in variations of the dystopian future. Because of this, it is necessary to split the practice of speculative fiction into multiple subgenres: no-topian, anti-utopian, uchronian-dystopia, cyber punk, tech-noir, criminal-dystopia, post-apocalyptic, eco-topian, dystopian etc. I suggest using the term (x)topian as an umbrella to cover discussion of the major themes and ideas that these varying forms of speculative fiction consider. To label them merely dystopian limits what might be included or excluded; to sort them solely under the subject of speculative fiction relegates them to stand in line with any and all science fiction. An (x)topian genre allows for works that might be considered post-apocalypticrather than dystopian, for example to be considered along with their genetic ancestors. It avoids the usual argument of what is and what is not dystopian; as well, it respects the golden age canon of dystopian works without diluting their significance. The dystopia of course originated to signify the other of the utopia.

Caldwell 3 Thomas Moore seasoned our language with the word utopia, which never existed in Greek. He yoked together the Greek prefixes eu- (good, favourable, easy) and ou- (no) to topos (place) and ia (state of being). (Lederer 1134) It was easy enough then to substitute the Greek prefix dys (bad) for eu and ou to describe the opposite. However, the beauty of the form dystopia allowed for a much better usage. If there is to be a standard term in the English ... it ought to be one that can be transformed into an adjective as readily as utopia is into utopian, for the adjective is likely to be the more useful term: utopian existence, utopian literature, etc. Therefore, negative utopia, and its brother, inverted utopia, should be passed over because of their clumsy adjective forms, as well as their rhythmical awkwardness (Lederer 1135). I would suggest here that the form worked for the time in which it was created and used. Moylan offers a record of the origins of the dystopian narrative and its growth: Dystopian narrative is largely the product of the terrors of the twentieth century. A hundred years of exploitation, repression, state violence, war, genocide, disease, famine,

Caldwell 4 ecocide, depression, debt, and the steady depletion of humanity through the buying and selling of everyday life provided more than enough fertile ground for this fictive underside of the utopian imagination (Moylan xi). In contrast to the first, this definition is too broad; it allows the inclusion of narratives that deal with alternative histories of the what if variety. As well, it lumps in the original group of dystopian writings which are not informed by contemporary problems like terrorism, ecological catastrophe, or information technology. I believe that Moylan 'retcons' the meaning to allow for comparisons that are not as strong as they should be. However, because the context of dystopian narrative has shifted, a new term is warranted to reflect these changes; my suggestion being (x)topian. Using this term will freely allow me to include the narratives that, arguably, could have been excluded under a strictly historical interpretation of the term dystopia, a strictness that I would place upon myself no less. This (x)topian genre that I propose includes all fictive practices, both in literature and film, and provides a place for the construction of worlds that are not simply dys. Codes & Conventions

Caldwell 5 How then do we identify stories that fit this suggested definition? I suggest that (x)topian narratives are future echoes of our disastrous present; the future probable derived from the current possible. Narratives that I place under this (x)topian term have, like any other genre, a set of codes and conventions that allow them to be identified. The following is a recommended list that I offer as neither perfect in revision, inclusion, nor exhaustion: The setting is recognizable as both a place in which we might have come from, and one in which we might end up in. The narrative takes place on Earth and is scripted with the theme of terror, a contrast to alien-set narratives which instead provide security in the mind of the reader with the belief of escape. A narrative that extrapolates from a current outstanding social trend whether it be economical, ecological, biological, ethical, or philosophical. Removing the dys from dystopia allows for an important distinction; the posited world need not necessarily be terrible, evil, or bad per se. It could simply be bleak in contrast to what we as humanity had hoped. Or, it could be disadvantages for

Caldwell 6 some, depending on the hegemony they entail. Where strict dystopian definitions might exclude them, narratives not dystopian in the classic sense could be included in this new definition. Examples of this include the narratives of films like The Island or Never Let Me Go where problems of organ farming are depicted. The argument might be made that this (x)topian definition is no better than that of dystopian; it stretches itself very thin to include as many possibilities as it can. I contend that this is not the case. Instead, the novels that came to prominence during the golden year of the dystopian narrative have their own set of codes and conventions 1984, Brave New World, Lord of the Flies, Anthem, WE, and Fahrenheit 451. These works deserve to stand separate, and proudly, as examples of a specific genre called dystopian. Contemporary works that suggest no point of origin for the dilemma (The Road, for example), or that are based on a concept particular to contemporary society (eco-topian works like Oryx and Crake, for example), deserve a separate identity. While still relatable to their predecessors, they must not be hampered by the requirements of the strict, academic definition of dystopian. Deconstruction

Caldwell 7 In all honesty, I initially used the (x) formation because it looked cool. No, it is cool. Then upon consideration I had to wonder why that is; what is the power of this x along with the parentheses that seem to work so well on a subconscious level? Consider the following alternatives to understand my point: Xtopian xtopian (y)topian *topias (X)topian

These just dont seem to have that je ne sais quoi that a rebranding campaign needs; and make no mistake, I am rebranding here. Grammatically, parentheses are used to set apart or interject text. In this case, the interjection is the x, the unknown into the familiar world to create the world of the narrative. The x is used the same way as it may be used in math; to represent an unknown. Also in mathematics, it represents multiplication, and here I am dealing with multiple suggested possibilities.

Caldwell 8 X can also replace something that was labeled against its will, or mislabelled in the same sense that X is used in Malcolm X. The parentheses set the unknown outside of the world suggested by the topian. Mathematically, parentheses are used to indicate a required order of operation; what is inside the parentheses should be solved first. In this formation, the x does act as placeholder for some problem facing the future suggested world. As well, in a linear algebraic problem, an integer placed against a set of parentheses should be multiplied by what is contained within said parentheses.

Even though a multiplication sign does not stand between them, it is assumed. (2*3)3 = (6)3 = = 18 Therefore, in the same way that topia is combined with whatever one might imagine, the unknown is placed within the parentheses. Finally, the x as a symbol carries with it the meaning of negation in the sense that it is used in opposition to the check mark, or to cross something out. In this way, it negates the dys

Caldwell 9 while not moving too far away from it. The sense of bad moves to the sense of wrong or incorrect, echoing my previous expressions of (x)topian works representing worlds that are only unhealthy for some of the inhabitants. Conclusion This new definition, term, or genre solves the problem of ambiguity when dealing with texts that compete for recognition within the classic genre of dystopian. As well, it allows for works that should be included but are shut out of that genre. Genre, of course, has its own problems; however, there is a need for demarcation and it is my belief that (x)topian can fulfill that requirement.

Works Cited Ehre, Milton. Oleshas Zavist: Utopia and Dystopia. Slavic Review, Vol. 50, No. 3 (Autumn, 1991), pp. 601-611 Lederer, Richard. Shaping the Dystopian Nightmare. Then English Journal, Vol. 56, No. 8 (1967), pp. 1132-1135 Moylan, Tom. Scraps of the Untainted Sky: Science Fiction, Utopia, Dystopia. Boulder, Colo: Westview Press, 2000. Print.

Caldwell 10 Ruppert, Peter. Tracing Utopia: Film, Spectatorship and Desire. Utopian Studies, Vol. 7, No. 2 (1996) pp. 139-152