Jerry and I shared a love for science fiction. He knew much more about science, but I love the stories. I also have read enough to appreciate an original idea or detect an implausible explanation. Jerry’s planet-building scenes could motivate children to study science and capture the imagination of people who don’t have a clue as to how solar systems form.
Jerry called his work speculative fiction, a more expansive name. SlingStar has cool technology but might not fit neatly into the category of science fiction, since the Blue Wizard figures prominently. I have no trouble stretching my definition of the genre and don’t mind applying the word “magic” to concepts that defy our technical understanding.
What is so great about science fiction? As a genre, science fiction permits us to isolate some of the great human questions: Who are we? Where did we come from? What’s out there? What are the limits? A small leap of imagination takes us away from the constraints of biology, physics, and chemistry as we know them today.
Faster-than-light travel, cloning, and incredible materials all figure in SlingStar. “Why are we here?” is the central question for Gort, and “What is my purpose?” is Lana’s challenge to find out.
Andre Norton. I’ll never forget the fascination I felt as I read a description of a post-apocalyptic Earth, of the destroyed civilization and the tribal mutant cultures trying to survive in the ruins. What a journey of the imagination! I was completely hooked. I was ten years old, and we routinely cowered under our desks in civil defense drills at school, as if that would help us survive a nuclear attack. I had no difficulty accepting the possibility of a world destroyed by atomic bombs.
I remember the first science fiction book I ever read, Star Man’s Son, by Andre Norton. She became my favorite author; I read everything she wrote. Then I ventured into other, now classic, science fiction authors: Heinlein, Asimov, Herbert, Burroughs, Wells, even Jules Verne. Soon after, I discovered Tolkien and started tasting fantasy. While too young to analyze the social commentary, I was old enough to enjoy the endless possibilities of the universe.
As I grew up and browsed library shelves and bookstores, I first checked the science fiction and fantasy aisles for something that I had not read. I became a fan of McCaffrey, M.Z. Bradley, and Le Guin. Of course, as a voracious reader, anything new caught my attention.
Then, science fiction hit mainstream. Lost in Space was my favorite TV show until Star Trek came along. And when mega-hit movies, like Star Wars, had everybody dreaming about strange planets and weird aliens and space battles, I was in my element. Though I never actually learned to speak Klingon, nor Elvish, like some of my really nerdy friends, I never stopped enjoying the latest SF fad.
But the coolness of good science fiction goes way beyond the spectacular visual effects we might enjoy in a movie. A dystopian story, like Star Man’s Son or more recently, Divergent, raises alarms about the consequences of technological advancement and social discontent. These stories help us to make informed choices about our shared future.
And even more importantly, series like Star Trek or stories like Carl Sagan’s Contact, provide us with hope. They help us to believe that we can survive, that it is possible to “Live long and prosper…” Even if our cherished individuals don’t all make it, maybe our civilization can exist long enough to reach the stars.
