Your patience appreciated….
My daughter took this, at the peak coverage for Upstate New York, using a Nikon and shot through my Celestron 6se using a heavy sun filter.
One of the greats.
Walkaway is an extraordinary novel. It throws us into a possible future that explodes from the conflicts of our own era. Doctorow has created a compelling, plausible vision of a different kind of social order.
There are some social theorists who have offered speculations in this direction, which we might call abundant-anarchism. David Graeber is one, and he gets a nod in the acknowledgements of Doctorow’s novel; perhaps Paul Mason’s Postcapitalism is another example of sympathetic theoretical speculations. But I am unaware of any fiction that animates such a vision. We can set Walkaway next to LeGuin’s The Dispossessed as a plausible and rare vision of a radically free society.
For me, the most compelling character of Walkaway is the lead antagonist, Jacob Redwater. Redwater is the neo-liberal Iago. His most striking feature is also the one that makes him the most believable: he has an absolute conviction that his values are final. He is the living embodiment of “There Is No Alternative.” And yet, Doctorow makes him a real person, believable and even, in some rare moments, sympathetic. Redwater’s self-assurance is reflexive, and it is wrapped in a suave false openness that for him just constitutes a surface of professionalism. Our world is full of Jacob Redwaters, and they run the international economic order.
One important question the novel raises is the prospect of walking away. Doctorow sees it as a resolution to conflict: the Walkaways literally get up and go when the machinery of the old economy tries to rob or murder them. The plausibility of this strategy in part depends upon the plausibility of super-abundance. Will we enter a phase of economic production where it is easy to “start over,” where the means of production are so low cost as to be seemingly free for the taking? But it also raises questions of space (social space and geographical space) and frontiers. David Graeber has observed–in response to the question “How come there’s never been an anarchist civilization?”–that most human societies were anarchist. But that prompts another question: why have nearly all those anarchist civilizations that overlapped in time with industrialization and colonialism been victims of oppression and often genocide? Presumably there was something about the two kind of civilization that made the one always able to destroy the other. Would Doctorow’s Walkaways be hunted mercilessly? The climax to Doctorow’s novel attempts to answer just this question: he portrays the explosive increase in communication abilities as changing this dynamic. We can hope that he’s right.
One thing troubles me about Doctorow’s tentative optimism. In the world he portrays, I can only believe that hard-working techies have a home. The heroes all code, or hack genes, or build and fly blimps. Such people have already inherited the Earth; it seems no surprise that they are doing well in the future. But what place will the artists or philosophers find in this abundant world of disobedient makers? And–dare I ask?–what place will the slothful have?
Hopeful but plausible science fiction like this has become rare (although this is a good year for it, with New York 2140 also being published). I will be excited and eager to recommend the book for the Nebula, though I suspect it won’t make the ballot. Recent Nebula nominations have seemed to strongly favor fantasy, military SF, or space opera.
I’ll be speaking about 1984, and its continual relevance, at The Little Theatre, on April 4. Come join me, and the novelist Ed Ashton, to discuss the importance of this book. First, starting at 6:00 pm, there will be a screening of the 1984 version of 1984 (you know the one–with John Hurt and Richard Burton). We’ll be talking afterward. And it’s all for a good cause: a part of the ticket sales will go to support the ACLU.
More details at: https://thelittle.org/films/1984
Very pleased that my story “RedKing” will appear in the 34th Annual Year’s Best Science Fiction anthology, edited by Gardner Dozois, and appearing summer 2017.
Here’s the TOC:
THE YEAR’S BEST SCIENCE FICTION, THIRTY-FOURTH ANNUAL COLLECTION,
- TERMINAL, Lavie Tidhar
- TOURING WITH THE ALIEN, Carolyn Ives Gilman
- PATIENCE LAKE, Matthew Claxton
- JONAS AND THE FOX, Rich Larson
- PRODIGAL, Gord Sellar
- KIT: Some Assembly Required, Kathe Koja & Carter Scholz
- VORTEX, Gregory Benford
- ELVES OF ANTARCTICA, Paul McAuley
- THE BABY EATERS, Ian McHugh
- A SALVAGING OF GHOSTS, Aliette de Bodard
- THOSE SHADOWS LAUGH, Geoff Ryman
- RedKING, Craig DeLancey
- THINGS WITH BEARDS, Sam J. Miller
- FIELDWORK, Shariann Lewit
- THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF MR. COSTELLO, David Gerrold
- INNUMERABLE GLIMMERING LIGHTS, Rich Larson
- FIFTY SHADES OF GRAYS, Steven Barnes
- SIXTEEN QUESTIONS FOR KAMALA CHATTERJEE, Alastair Reynolds
- COLD COMFORT, Pat Murphy & Paul Dohert
- THE ART OF SPACE TRAVEL, Nina Allan
- FLIGHT FROM THE AGES, Derek Kusken
- MY GENERATIONS WILL PRAISE, Samantha Henderson
- MARS ABIDES, Stephen Baxter
- THE VISITOR FROM TAURED, Ian R. MacLeod
- WHEN THE STONE EAGLE FLIES, Bill Johnson
- THE VANISHING KIND, Lavie Tidhar
- ONE SISTER, TWO SISTERS, THREE, James Patrick Kelly
- DISPATCHES FROM THE CRADLE: THE HERMIT—FORTY-EIGHT HOURS IN THE SEA OF MASSACHUSETTS, Ken Liu
- CHECKERBOARD PLANET, Eleanor Arnsason
- THEY HAVE ALL ONE BREATH, Karl Bunker
- MIKA MODEL, Paolo Bacigalupi
- THAT GAME WE PLAYED DURING THE WAR, Carrie Vaughn
- BECAUSE CHANGE WAS THE OCEAN AND WE LIVED BY HER MERCY, Charlie Jane Anders
- THE ONE WHO ISN’T, Ted Kosmatka
- THOSE BRIGHTER STARS, Mercurio R. Rivera
- A TOWER FOR THE COMING WORLD, Maggie Clark
- FIRSTBORN, LASTBORN, Melissa Scott
- WOMEN’S CHRISTMAS, Ian McDonald
- THE IRON TACTICIAN, Alastair Reynolds
Very pleased that my story “RedKing,” which appeared in Lightspeed, will also appear in Rich Horton’s 2017 Best Science Fiction & Fantasy.
Captain Fantastic is the finest Hollywood film I have seen in a very long time. One can dream of an alternative to neoliberalism, but we all know how very hard it would be to create and sustain a personal alternative. The protagonist of the film, Ben, tries to foster a better form of life for his family, and he finds this is crushingly difficult. But, more importantly, the film often turns the camera from Ben’s family and points it straight at us, and we recognize ourselves and loathe what we see there.
Anthropology is the study of the death of expression of the human logos: generations of people like Boaz and Benedict and Kroeber watched and recorded as languages perished and ways of life withered into a sameness — the victory of a single, omnipotent Das Man.
Art — and perhaps most of all, science fiction — is a kind of inverted anthropology. Works like The Dispossessed or Ecotopia or Green Mars try to imagine a future that is not the total victory of the One Advertised Existence. There is little left but art to tell us that another world is possible.