Dispatches from Oinkfluland

As I battle what my doctor thinks is almost definitely the swine flu (alias H1N1) I make various rude gestures to factory farms in general and the one in Perote, Mexico, where the sickness first began, in particular.  Apparently this possible connection between factory farming and the swine flu was not widely reported in the US media (surprise!) with some exceptions but as I play reluctant host to the virus I can’t help but think (in my less-exhausted moments) about human greed and stupidity and how this greed an stupidity seems to bite us back, again and again.  I feel a visceral sympathy for the pigs who go through hell in those factory farms (and for the intelligent, emotional animals they are, it must truly be hell) and the humans who are the victims of this sickness. 

In the meantime various things accumulate, as they do when one is not much good for anything but being horizontal and wishing one had another head, preferably a pain-free one.  Apart from responsibilities to the household there are papers piled up for correction, an interview, responses to comments on my blog, and a bunch of iou’s in walks and treats to the dog, who really can’t understand why I’m being such a bore. 

In the rare moments of relative clarity and energy (induced mostly by masala tea and Tylenol) I’ve managed to read Terry Pratchett’s new book, Unseen Academicals, although I think I may have imagined parts of it that he didn’t write when I was particularly feverish — my recollection of it has a weirdly four-dimensional feel — and am now reading a Himalayan travelogue by Ruskin Bond, called All Roads Lead to Ganga.  It is bringing back memories of Garhwal, 1980, so many years ago.

One thing that I am very pleased about is that the International Day of Climate Action, which was this Saturday, October 24, was a great success, with over 5000 events in 181 countries.  The slide show on the 350 site is inspiring.  There was an event in my town but for obvious reasons I couldn’t be there. 

And now it’s time for more tea.

Racism in SF: Two Articles

The first article is a great interview over at WorldSF: Charles Tan interviews the provocative Ashok Banker who had the gall (bless the man) to turn down a NYT interview on matters of principle.  Ashok says a lot of interesting things that need to be said, without pulling any punches whatsoever.  I don’t agree with him on everything but the man’s experience is different from mine, and who am I to deny his experience?  For instance he accuses big publishers in SF of pretty overt racism.  If that’s his experience, that is not to be denied.  I’ve had a pretty mixed experience of bias (mostly of the subtle kind) but I’ve also had the good fortune of coming across fellow writers and editors here in the US who are genuinely interested in listening to what I have to say through my stories.  But I have no doubt that a sort of institutionalized racism does exist here in America and therefore in the SF world, which, without its vocal POC critics, probably wouldn’t spend too much time in self-examination.

The other article I’d like to point to is one by Anil Menon about Simpson’s Paradox in the Slush Pile, as he so elegantly states it.  This is the sort of article I love because it shows us how careful we have to be in a) backing what we have to say with data and b) interpreting it correctly.  I do have a response to it below, which will make sense after you read the article.

Snippets

I’ve lately been so busy and exhausted that I feel as though I’ve been run over by a succession of trucks — but of course, that is just Life. Since I have neither the brain power nor the energy at the moment to write a properly thought-out and coherent blog post, I’m going to, instead, commit a few disjointed paragraphs to the screen. They mostly have to do with the thoughts jostling about in my head and are by construction somewhat random. For which I ask the forgiveness of discerning readers.

Some Links

While I’m embroiled in other things, not least of which is getting ready for the fall semester and not being at Worldcon (boo hoo), here are some links.

First, Anil Menon, co-conspirator, has two very interesting posts on the SF Workshop at IIT-Kanpur.  Read Part 1 and Part 2.

 Second, here is an account of a protest in India against a coal-fired power plant — the largest such protest — what I hope is the tip of the iceberg of the Indian climate movement.

Third, when I was in Delhi recently there was a song going around that got into my head and shows no signs of getting out.  It was being sung over radio stations, by (as far as I could tell) taxi drivers and roadside loafers as well as folks in the family including my 3.5-year-old niece.  It’s from the movie Delhi 6 and is obviously folk-song-derived and has a great beat.  It’s called Genda Phool and I’ve been singing it around the house like there’s no tomorrow.  Here’s the youtube trailer of the song.  Enjoy! 

I’ll add more links as I come across/remember them.

More on the SF Workshop at IIT – Kanpur

Being late and hurriedly written, this account is somewhat incoherent.  Re-writing it would take too long in my current state of time-zone zombied-ness.  My apologies.

For the first part of the report on the workshop, see here.

The workshop students continued to produce some wonderful work during my week.  Perhaps the best short, in-class writing exercises came from our discussion of SF and the Other, in particular the Animal Other.  We reviewed and discussed the science on animal emotions (which is to say, surprise, surprise, animals like mammals and birds and possibly others, have emotions!), and shared personal anecdotes about our own experience with animals.   The exercise was to write from the point of view of an animal.  We got some great responses, and I was interested to note how many people had picked insects.  No cutesy disneyfications — very cool stuff.

Indigenous Amazonians confront Fossil Fools

This is inspiring:

http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/johann-hari/johann-hari-a-fight-for-the-amazon-that-should-inspire-the-world-1715927.html

But it also brings forth the question as to why Climate Change isn’t at the top of the coverage of our news media. 

I’m horribly jet-lagged but among the random thoughts jostling in my brain is this one: where is the science fiction about regular/ indigenous/ traditionally downpressed people in the world fighting climate change?  Because they are.  Maybe we SF writers should come out of little blinkered existences and take note of that.

More soon on the IIT workshop, etc.

P.S.  After posting this the first time I realized I meant to add this reference to an anthology of environmental SF.  Thanks to Bodhisattva (my student at IIT-K, whose knowledge of SF is impressive) for this reference:

Dream’s Edge, edited by Terry Carr, published in 1982.  The excerpt from the introduction, quoted on the amazon site, is well worth reading.

Being the Change: Badlaav 2009

Quick Note: I’m preparing Part II of my impressions of the Kanpur Workshop but may not have time to post it until after I return (I leave tonight for the US).  The same goes for comments folks have posted, to which I promise a reply when I’m back.  But I HAD to shout this out from my rooftop:

Badlaav 2009!  Check it out! 

Journey to Kanpur: Days One and Two of SF Workshop at IIT

 Note: I wrote this piece a few days ago and have only now gotten a chance to post it.  I’m back in the Delhi area.  More updates later.

On Sunday, June 28^th,  my brother and brother-in-law took me to New Delhi Railway Station to catch the train to Kanpur.  The station was as crowded, messy and noisy as I remembered it (a web of intersecting human, machine and animal dramas), except that there were more platforms and many of the trains were blue.  The train was nearly two hours late so we stood on the platform in the early morning and talked or simply observed.  Kid picking trash up off the railway lines, village woman on the other side leaning her kid over so he could go potty over the tracks.  People sitting on their luggage, bored, waiting.  A man behind me, asleep on some grimy sheets of cardboard.  The day promising to repeat the white-hot temperatures of the past several days.  Crows looking ironical. 

In India

I am currently in India with family.  The family has moved from Delhi to one of its satellite towns.  Although it feels strange not to be in Delhi proper, this area has its advantages. 

I have been sick with an awful cold but am recovering and slowly feeling vaguely human.  It is unbelievably hot, hotter than I remember Delhi summers to be.  In the day the sunlight at the bottom edge of the window curtains is a white hot line like the edge of a furnace.  It is impossible to go out in the day because of the loo, the mad, hot wind that can make you sick.  All this is familiar but the degree of heat for days on end is not.  The power outages are familiar too, occuring several times a day.  The inverters save us by powering ceiling fans and lights in key rooms when the electricity fails. 

Despite the heat, early mornings are full of birds yelling and singing lustily.  I have seen some old friends.  The red-wattled lapwings in the area cry out all morning.  I suspect some of them are demented enough to want to nest in he empty field in front of the house, and they seem to be complaining about the cricket-playing kids, the pariah dogs and the cats that prowl the area.  Lapwings are ground nesters, which is nuts to begin with. 

There are also peacocks on rooftops uttering their cat-like miaows and flocks of Brahminy mynahs shrieking like cheeky schoolboys in the verandah.  But most exciting for me was that I actually saw a koel.  I’ve always loved their melodious voices but they are supposed to be very shy birds.  I think I’ve only seen one once before in all my life.  This morning when I heard one call very close by, I went to the front gate and peered up at the trees.  There was a black bird hidden in the leaves, scratching its head with its foot.  It paused, called out a long, beautiful note, and then resumed scratching.  I was thrilled!

The monsoons are supposed to be late and mild this year, which is really bad news for the crops. 

Yesterday I was able to venture out to a bookstore with family.  Got a collection of stories by Ismat Chughtai (in Hindi) and (among other things) Manjula Padmanabhan’s new SF novel, Escape.  I’m looking forward to some good reading.

Talking of good reading my sanity was saved during my sickness by two detective stories by Marcia Muller and the remarkable new fantasy: The Red Wolf Conspiracy by Robert V.S. Redick.  I really enjoyed the book — the complexity, the inventiveness, the world-building, the action scenes — although I have the vague notion that I enjoyed the first two-thirds or so more than the last third of the book.  Still I am really keen to read the next book in the trilogy.

More updates soon.

“The most unrealistic person in the world is the cynic, not the dreamer”

I’ve been too busy lately to write anything of substance on this blog, but thanks to Kurt Kremer this remarkable speech — the 2009 commencement address at the University of Portland by Paul Hawken — came my way. 

Excerpts:

When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t understand the data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a pulse. What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.

And also:

What do we know about life? In the words of biologist Janine Benyus, life creates the conditions that are conducive to life. I can think of no better motto for a future economy. We have tens of thousands of abandoned homes without people and tens of thousands of abandoned people without homes. We have failed bankers advising failed regulators on how to save failed assets. We are the only species on the planet without full employment. Brilliant. We have an economy that tells us that it is cheaper to destroy earth in real time rather than renew, restore, and sustain it. You can print money to bail out a bank but you can’t print life to bail out a planet. At present we are stealing the future, selling it in the present, and calling it gross domestic product. We can just as easily have an economy that is based on healing the future instead of stealing it. We can either create assets for the future or take the assets of the future. One is called restoration and the other exploitation. And whenever we exploit the earth we exploit people and cause untold suffering. Working for the earth is not a way to get rich, it is a way to be rich.

This is also of relevance to an essay I wrote last October as a guest blogger at Jeff VanderMeer’s site, called Science Fiction and the End of the World. 

Here’s to hope.

Vandana