History is the Key

Personally, I am a sucker for historical continuity. By this I mean that I love seeing a historical connection, a "What if?" scenario, or some other sort of historical reinterpretation that is incorporated into a work of fiction set in the modern era. Snow Crash is just that, a look back through the millennia at human historical figues, cultures, and knowledge through the lens of a computer scientist and the knowledge of a biological "machine code." Hiro's presentation to Uncle Enzo, Mr. Lee, and Ng was riveting and piqued my interest by combining a new theory with a multitude of historical "references" simultaneously.

Peter Bruegel the Elder's Interpretation of the Tower of Babel.

The lynchpin in Stephenson's Snow Crash is that the Biblical (and other sources') story of the Tower of Babel was in fact, literally true. In a bid to encourage humanity to expand, diversify, and grow, Enki releases a helpful neurolinguistic "antivirus" which infects Sumerian society and soon the world. The antivirus has a near 100% "infection" rate and causes its "victims" to create a linguistic "user interface" over the basics of their respective brains. The "infection" prevents an understanding of the Sumerian language (the human "machine code") which Hiro likens to a normal computer virus. Thus language is not only a means of communication, but also shields the baser brain functions from "hacking" (basically mind control). Stephenson also explains the human desire for religion as us seeking as sort of "operating system" from which we can function in union with each other yet also remain individuals. Thus religions such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all encourage precise transcription of their respective "systems" (their holy books) to ensure purity and prevent "hacking" by the cult of Asherah.

This picture of YT was too cool to pass up

As unpoetic as my writing may be, I found all of Stephenson's ideas fascinating and stunning in their simplicity yet depth. In one fell swoop (pages 394-403), he has rewritten human history in a new light while also retaining the truth of most of these past actions. The three Abrahamic religions thus remain based upon maintaining certain key cultural norms (avoiding promiscuity, maintain human relationships yet continue advancement, etc...) while also functioning as a shield against the fictional Metavirus (courtesy of Asherah). Jesus was a shot in the arm for Semitic culture as a bid to prevent the Pharisees from repeating Sumer's mistakes. The core truth remains but a hidden agenda is revealed. All the while, human civilization advances.

Thus Stephenson has also addressed two key parts of human history: the development into civilization and the push to religion despite the rise of the age of science. The former is summarized quite effectively by Hiro in that the first civilizations and cultures were "viruses" within an otherwise normal mammalian species. Fundamentally, humans and apes are not that different on a biological level, yet have vastly different brain functions. Admittedly some of this is attributed to raw brain size, however, the key is the "operating system." Comparing us to monkeys is then like comparing two similar computers: one might be slightly newer and thus mechanically faster, but the key is that it also has the new interface which makes it several times more powerful.

This brings us to the second idea: that various religions (or a similar belief systems) are sought by humans to be this "operating system." The reason why random cults are suddenly popular is because people incorrectly believe that they have found a superior system, etc... What have been seen as random impulses are now understood to be simple, human-specific biological functions to always seek self-improvement (or a better system). For example, Juanita is both a confident Christian and incredibly knowledgeable thus allowing her to "cure" herself of the Asherah infection.

So religion is about what's under the hood just like the Mac v. PC war

In summary, Snow Crash was a fascinating read for me because it seemed to link, explain, and answer many of the recurring principles and questions about the history and development of humanity. While still Science Fiction in the sense that the novel is built upon (the currently) impossible premise of the "brain code," it is still amazing how well Stephenson was able to tie together religion, technology, civilization, and knowledge together through such a simpler idea (at least in our age of the computer).

Paradise Preserved

I want to expand on Shelina's and Rhiannon’s posts to address the specifics of our dependence on computers and the internet. While we often couch conversations of life shifted to the internet in terms of social networking, social interaction is not the only thing that has moved online. My roommate spilled soda on her computer and had to give it up for a week, and no one understood how she was getting work done. Granted, she has the internet on her phone and access to campus computer clusters, but it’s not that much of an exaggeration now for people to think of their personal computers in terms of “my whole life is on that thing.”

I was initially struck by the fact that Case’s disconnect from cyberspace was related to “the Fall,” (6), but I think playing out the metaphor provides some interesting complications to the question of what we stand to lose based on our reliance on computers. For Case, it seems disconnect from cyberspace really does mirror Adam’s own loss of Paradise. Tempted into breaking one big rule he's been given in his world, he loses access to it, in the process becoming hyper aware of the “prison of his own flesh,” and understanding misery and work in a new light for some time (6). From there of course the story changes – he’s granted new access to his personal Paradise and doesn’t lose it this time, and Molly’s not exactly Eve. But this idea of paradise is what I want to dwell on. Because, as Rhiannon noted, the internet can certainly serve as a haven for people. But it’s not paradise, or at least not just paradise. Increasingly, it’s everyday life. It’s where we keep our calendars and photographs, where we learn assignments and hand them in. It’s where we do our taxes, and while it isn’t yet where we perform that other certainty in life, death, that’s not that far away either. Because once your whole life is on that thing, you can lose your whole life on it too. And yes, this doesn’t apply to everyone. I still have a planner that I write things down in, and the technological advancements we have access to are not at all universal. But once we do transfer information to the internet, we become dependent on that information. Apocalypse stories so often center around a disruption in technology at this point because it’s hard to imagine life without technology. It’s hard to live life without technology, but still entirely possible. But the more dependent we are on the world of computers, the more traumatic the loss of that world if it ever occurs. Our own great Fall.

In response to Seth’s post, if we’re considering life lived online, I guess we can consider afterlife as well. The idea of coming back to life recurs throughout the novel, not just in Dixie as disembodied consciousness, but also in cases like the cryonic preservation of the Tessier-Ashpool family. There are a million versions of me on my computer and online – cover letters, creative work, pictures, personal information, everything. They’re not cognizant, but they’re me preserved, frozen in a moment in time and ready to represent me to others when called upon to do so. Facebook pages and other websites can live on even if their owners have died. If we think of Dixie as a projection/ghost, it’s not hard to make a jump to already existing technology. One final note. I've noticed as I wrote that I was repeatedly conflating computers and the internet. I guess it's because life lived and preserved on both so often overlaps.

Technology and Utopia

I wanted to open this post by noting that I love Star Trek and am going to be using some of Darko Suvin's "On the Poetics of the Science Fiction Genre" and Tom Moylan's "Scraps of Untainted Sky" to discuss and analyze the futuristic setting of this classic TV series and its sequels (on both the big screen and television). Fundamentally, Star Trek is unique for series from the 1960s in that it appears to sidestep past its major contemporary issues. Much of the readings for the week concern the political commentary possible in Science Fiction works and while Star Trek does incorporate these issues into its narrative, it does so by disguising it as alien.

In the 23rd century, mankind has moved beyond its own petty disputes on Earth over race, gender, and ideology (aka the 1960s) and thus both unified the Earth and joined it and human colonies to the United Federation of Planets. Quite frankly, it is this point in particular that turns Star Trek into a utopian piece as it makes very optimistic (yet desired) assumptions of the outcome of human endeavors over the 250-odd years separating the show's 1960s inception and its setting. Thus the use of actual, relatable humans as the protagonists allows this show the link to our contemporary world while the optimism forces a suspension of disbelief (as in the manner described by Suvin).

While the use of humans as protagonists allowed the audience to more effectively relate to Star Trek as a Science Fiction work, the inclusion of aliens ironically added to this relationship. The existence of sapient life with complex cultures, alliances, and principles is a central reality to the series but this very inclusion also allowed for broader creative opportunities for Gene Roddenberry and his crew. As is now common knowledge, in the original series, the United Federation of Planets appears to symbolize the West while the encroaching Klingon Empire paralleled the Soviet Union. However, the point is not that there is a parallel (as there are debates on Roddenberry's true intentions), but rather that instead of simply setting human problems in orbit, Star Trek made them issues of humans against various aliens, monsters, and secret/terrorist-like organizations. The utopian world of humanity is now set against the less-ideal worlds populated by Klingons and their brethren, allowing not only for the inclusion of an impossible-to-believe foundation, but also for the parallels to the present necessary for good Science Fiction. Tom Moylan described how literature and SF adopted the issues of the present to the their various settings and Star Trek is no exception. If anything, because Gene Roddenberry didn't specifically intend for these parallels, their existence in the series emphasizes the use of Science Fiction to address contemporary issues.

As a side note, Star Trek is unique in that there is only one truly fantastical technology, the transporter. In essence, the Enterprise herself is simply a space-faring exploration/warship while phasers are fancy guns, etc... While one could argue that the TV show was limited by a small budget and thus had to stick to creating technologies which mirrored those in the 20th century, in reality, there is a subtle brilliance to this connection across time. Star Trek is unique in implementation, setting, and technology in that all three contribute both to the "suspension of disbelief" and the necessary parallel(s) to the present so advocated by Darko Suvin and Tom Moylan. So while the viewer must learn to accept these new alien cultures and the technology of space travel, he/she does not have to fully detach from the present, but rather can view and extrapolate on the parallels between the Enterprise's adventures and our contemporary human world.

"The World Was All Before Them"

Recalling Margaret Atwood’s description of science fiction as “where theological narrative went after Paradise Lost,” I saw H. G. Wells’ The Time Machine as a new take on the creation story with particular attention given to the inherent exclusion involved in creating paradise and the importance and dangers of seeking greater knowledge.

The Time Traveller’s initial descriptions of the future recall the imagery of Eden – a land of naïve but contented people, no conflict, dominion over animals (though it is in the form of having driven them all to extinction), and abundant fruit. It is striking that this land that recalls the creation myth lacks any acts of creation. There is no evidence of the Eloi procreating. In fact, though he’s only in the future for a short time (eight days which actually encompass massive leaps in time, quite like the seven days of creation in Genesis), the Time Traveller concludes that the people are sterile. This inability to produce also extends to goods and buildings on the earth’s surface – nothing is new. But what disturbs the Time Traveller the most is the loss of creativity. The people are not thinkers, and seem disinterested in working to gain more knowledge. They are Adam and Eve before the Fall, and have no intention of falling.

Of course, the Time Traveller’s initial perception of this imperfect paradise is further complicated by the fact that it comes at the cost of others being kept out. In a course I took last year on Moby-Dick, the professor noted that the creation story can be seen as a series of separations, beginning with the division between day and night. The Time Machine literally incorporates that idea, highlighting the distinction between the Eloi and the Morlocks by giving them the domains of day and night, respectively. But the story also complicates the traditional exclusion narrative of the paradise story by challenging the order of such a society. Barred from paradise, the Morlocks are a powerful force rather than the weaker party.

This concept of a change in order also comes into play with the manipulations of time. The Time Traveller’s accelerated journey further into the future is almost an exact reversal of the creation story as told in Genesis. First he notes the disappearance of man, already well under way in 802,701 with the division of humanity into the two distinct species of Eloi and Morlock. Land animals, sea creatures and birds disappear after the Time Traveller's brief interaction with them, followed by the distinct sun, moon, and stars, the earth’s greenery, the division between land, sea, and sky, and, finally, light. The Time Traveller is plunged into darkness, but is able to find his way back home, traveling backwards through time as the world recreates itself. The novel’s epilogue closes with a somewhat hopeful message that almost undermines the absolute need for creativity – “even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of man” (117). My question is whether or not that’s enough, and I think the statement may be purposefully ambiguous. Seth raised the question of knowledge in terms of colonialism. Is it necessary to force our own system of knowledge on others who are leading supposedly ignorant but perfectly functional lives? I think this also connects to issues of learning in general. When should we seek knowledge that is beyond us and when would it be better to avoid the temptation of the forbidden fruit? Would the Time Traveller and those who heard his story have been better off not knowing what came next?

* “The world was all before them” is from Paradise Lost (12.646)

** Image Source: pointsoflight.blogspot.com