The Joys of Genre and Label

"Well, it would be a drab world without meaningless social aggregations"

- Kurt Vonnegut

As a writer, anthropologist, and geek, I take this quotation to heart, because Vonnegut is right: where would we be without ways to designate, organize, and make sense of people and things?

Probably still scratching corms out of the ground and watching out for a 21st-century equivalent of predatory mega fauna.


But we also wouldn't feel a sense of community and pride in being, for example, a geek, nor would be spend so much time discussing the relevance or veracity of categories such as "science fiction."

And I think these are both good things, stimulants of creativity even when they are seen as negatives.


As I have discussed before, a frequent activity in the world of science fiction is the debate over what "science fiction" is and the effects of that designation. This can be as specific as discussions over what is and is not "science fiction" (an author, a work, a trope, a fan practice, etc.), or as broad as wondering how the designation of "science fiction" is perceived by others. For example, just today SF Signal did a Mind Meld feature on mainstream acceptance and SF. A few writers turned the question around, while others took it head-on, but what was obvious was that the question is not new, and that they had all thought about it before it was posed.

And I get a real kick out of that.

Watching people try to explain what is and isn't SF, who is or isn't a geek, and where the boundaries of "mainstream" and "genre" lie is an armchair sport for me. I love the point/counterpoint, definition/translation, and production/reproduction of ideas and identities. Take the recent exchange between Matt Sturges and Bill Willingham on Babel Clash, the Borders SF Blog, about the efficaciousness of genre "mashups." It's always fascinating to watch the supple dismantling and reconstruction of genre characteristics and their application, and how they mark a work or a person as being part of one grouping or another. Sturges seems to feel that mashups are a bastardization that gets tired quickly, while Willingham (whom Sturges praises for the very mashed-up Fables) indicates that fantasy needs some fresh injections of tropic dissonance and fusion to continue to surprise and grow. They both agree that sometimes it just gets ridiculous (and I think the example of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is perfect, as Willingham says) while maintaining their own position on the matter.

What I love is not the particular exchanges specifically, but the fact that these discussions happen frequently. This is how people produce culture, how they comprehend ideas, reinforce and question norms and notions, and maintain social engagement. If we didn't always have these sorts of conversations our social worlds would be greatly diminished, and our art might be as well.

Conversations such as the one Lev Grossman started make us stop and think for a moment, recall what we understand about the genre or method, and force us to respond, even if it's just to ourselves, briefly. Even a dismissive "Nah, he's wrong!' or a "Hmm. . . he's got a point" is an act of cultural fashioning. We reaffirm our perception of the subject, consider if any adjustment is needed, and perhaps decide to respond, if for no other reason than to let people know where we stand.

Nothing exemplifies this better than Gene Wolfe's response to the Mind Meld question. It was pithy and sharp. His example went right to the heart of the matter: the "mainstream" is an illusion that reflects the times. At least genres have some definition and sense of coherence. And seeking mainstream approval does not translate into fame or influence, even if the category has some market value. It is not a goal to be sought as much as a grey imposition of generality. Why should SF authors strive to adapt to this formless label?

Genre for me is much more interesting than "mainstream appeal." I don't see lots of "mainstream fan clubs" or people putting the kind of heart or attention into this confabulated category. While there are plenty of debates in unclassified literature, they rarely seem to be of the affirmative type. Whenever there is a discussion about whether a work is SF or whether fantasy gets enough respect, there is an attempt to renew the notion of the genre, to see its shape and how it influences our creativity. Are there debates about whether or not a novel is "too mainstream?" No, because the mainstream is just not as important. It is the quintessential "meaningless social aggregation."