Marriage, Money and Class

After hitting the trifecta of stressors early this year, I exhumed the literary classic novels (and some plays and narrative poems) to uncover large structure meaning of what this world is supposed to be about. I've had crises of faith before where I dove into scriptures seeking answers, so this wasn't new. But I hadn't ever asked what do most authors in history think the point of life was.

Now the Bible is a curious document and doesn't really say what the point of this life is except as transition period to the next although some suggest that the point of this life is God, which is true enough as far as ancillary activities (or perhaps the motivator of primary activities), but what about primary activities themselves? What should they be?

For most novelists, the point of life has been the struggle for marriage, money, and attain one's class (one can only surpass one's station in life only through luck and marriage). Few writers seem vested in the spiritual realm (Tolstoy being one)--possibly because religion was too divisive.

The most curious fact for most of these books is that each one--marriage, money and class--is largely magical. How does one fall in love? It's just a thing that happens. No reason is involved (or if reason is involved, it's criminal, such as the pursuit of money or class). The closest that uses reasoning about why people fall in love might be Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë where some explain why they're in love (or not) although the primary couple isn't fully explained.

I forget the Trollope novel, but one has a guy who falls for a woman who pressures him into marriage. He likes her, but isn't ready for marriage. Once he commits himself, however, it becomes scandalous that he doesn't want to marry her until he earns enough money. Later, he falls for a higher class woman and does the unthinkable: He rescinds his offer of marriage in order to marry into class. Then he suddenly gets a raise and prefers the first woman he proposed to, but he is far too scandalous now to marry. And he ends up with no woman and loses his attractiveness.

But why should this be scandalous to change one's mind before marriage? This is never explained but accepted. Women, though, can change their minds up until marriage, however. Perhaps this is their primary power. This becomes a major issue in Dickens and Tolstoy novels although in Tolstoy it also becomes scandalous that Natasha changes her mind before marriage. In twentieth century movies like The Graduate, this change of mind is not only accepted but also cheered.

Class also conveys a social magic just by its presence. If the king or queen wanders into a hospital, then one should expect an amelioration of pain. Their random assortment of genes somehow has them touched by God. If I exaggerate, it isn't by much.

Money is a curious, powerful but lower pursuit. It too is magical in that there is no explanation of how one attains a large sum except often through a rich dead relative, which at the end of a novel usually falls into the lap of a poor sap who has been a good soul. But the monied themselves are often striving to reach up, which is seen as vulgar but sometimes necessary. The relatively poor but high class might, with reluctance, marry below themselves. It is the job of the monied to help out these poor, high classed to return them to their former glory.

Now a classy guy can gamble away his family's fortune which makes him foolish, morally lax, yet pitiable. If a poor guy does the same, he gets what he deserves.

All nineteenth century writers buck against the idea of class not marrying below themselves. Dickens is quietly subversive in that his best characters end up having to work for their money (as opposed to being lackadaisical rich just because you belong to a certain class). Writers like Henry James wrestle against his English predecessors in his work by coming from the angle that the monied may be the true moral center, albeit still there to support the classed who are lovely fools.

In twentieth-century America, we abandoned class in favor of "status" or job where factory owner > doctor > lawyer > architect > etc. Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy has an interesting examination of these topics from this new American point of view.

Many Mary Higgins Clark suspense movies (I read a few novels when I was a kid) support a very traditional view of marriage, money and status. And they are still magical quantities. [Note: I refrain from discussing the quality of these films except as a sociological lens to examine the world we live in--to see how we see the world.]

A curious phenomenon is society's increasing separation from the original trio of life pursuits. Where does an Edgar Allan Poe story fit into this schemata? Maybe these represent quirky returns to the spiritual via various physical or mental crises.

One store's forgotten 1970s hit by Herbert Hunter spouted lyrics that sounded something like "I was born to love you. You were born to tear my heart apart." Very strange. Is this desire or his belief in what reality is or should be? Considering the long history of those who have laid claims on our life's purpose, where does such a world-view come from? Is the lyric-writer (and those who buy into this philosophy) asking for a life of pain? Well, it wouldn't surprise me that I got the lyrics wrong as I can't find them online.

What should the point of life on Earth be?

Politics makes us dumber

“Divergent” and “Hunger Games” as capitalist agitprop: 

"We're all told we're "Divergent," all the time -- behind the bogus dystopia lies a panegyric to consumer society."

The horror!

YA dystopias teach children to submit to the free market, not fight authority 

"The Hunger Games, The Giver and Divergent all depict rebellions against the state, and promote a tacit right-wing libertarianism."

And I take it that this is evil as it goes against everything the article writers believe in. I agree. In fact, I've got an idea. Let's only write a certain kind of story! One kind only! With one theme. One theme only! It will never get old. Nor will the exclamation marks!

We'll check with the proper authorities to make sure it has the proper theme. I can't wait to dive into this dystopian future we're creating. I will chair the committee. All stories must be pre-approved by me or it cannot be published.  We will only publish stories that slant toward a certain political party. All unapproved published works will be burned (and their authors).*

Related, but less shocking:

Project Hieroglyph: Fighting society's dystopian future

Thought Experiments:Tomorrow Through the Past by Allen M. Steele

Here, the authors advocate positive futures.  That's great.  In fact, I'd like to get the anthology when the price goes down. Advocate whatever you want, so long as you don't say what writers can and can't write about.

Let's allow people to tell whatever story they want. If you disagree with the theme, say so. As a reviewer, I used to post the author's comments if I disagreed. Why? To give authors a voice, not to bash them. I could be wrong. I was not out to silence anyone.

Let's not create some moral imperative that any theme can or cannot be read. Open your mind. Look at negative possibilities, look at the positive. Allow yourself to read things you don't agree with. Avoid telling people not to read things.

Some scientific evidence to back this up:

David Brin discusses how self-righteous indignation gives you a high.  Self-righteous indignation is a major component of politics. (Perhaps, as self-righteous indignation gives political addicts a high, the FDA should regulate its use.)

Science confirms: Politics wrecks your ability to do math.  That's right.  Both parties got dumber. (A left-wing article reported only the right-wing problems.)

Political Diversity Will Improve Social Psychological Science: Bias can skew data.

If you want to get smarter, you have to challenge yourself. Read something you don't agree with. Excluding what can and can't be read and discussed makes you and the people you encouraged to become dumber. No, you don't have to read everything, but don't tell people not to.

You might ask, "Weren't you part of the Mundane SF lot?" Yep. Not because I was against any type of SF, but that it represented a type of SF not being voiced.

* By the way, this is satire.

Analysis of "Mimic" by Donald A. Wollheim

First appeared in Astonishing Stories. Reprinted--in a few major genre retrospectives--by Alden H. Norton, Mary Gnaedinger, Chester Whitehorn, Robert Arthur, Terry Carr, Bill Pronzini, Barry N. Malzberg, Isaac Asimov, Martin H. Greenberg, Stefan R. Dziemianowicz, Robert Weinberg, Brian Thomsen, Steven Utley, Michael Bishop, Jeff VanderMeer, and Ann VanderMeer.  Made into a movie directed by Guillermo del Toro.  Read online.

Fascinating use of plot structure and societal prejudices.  The plot relies on an unusual structure for its effectiveness.  It begins with nonfiction, then delivers the speculative content in a narrative manner although the narrator isn't heavily involved in the tale except as an observer.  Nonetheless, it delivers quite a creepiness punch as the narrative closely parallels the nonfiction.

First, it tallies off all of humanity's recent discoveries to say how little we know about the world we live in (raise credibility for the incredible that's to come).  Next, it describes mimicry in nature, how various insects have used it, how it's used to protect itself by looking like something dangerous. Third, we are introduced to a solitary man who clothes himself mysteriously in slouch hat and coat, keeps to himself, draws himself up short when women pass, and makes strange noises in his apartment.  Finally, the narrator and police let themselves into his apartment after a time when he doesn't show.  He's passed away....

Spoilers:

As you may have guessed, the single man/recluse is an "it."  Various parts are made to look like normal human parts, i.e. wings are his coat, etc.  If that's not creepy enough, the best is saved for last:

The creature has had babies.  When they open a box, out fly a bunch of little men creatures into the night.   And the narrator--no one else--spies a creature in the shape of a chimney, peel off a roof and pursue the little men.  Cool.

I haven't investigated Wollheim's initial claims for the example creatures of mimicry in nature, but his point remains the same.

What's most fascinating is a hidden assumption within the text.  As a single guy who's lived in tiny towns, where residents are so bored they make guesses about your sexuality (decorated on desks, whispered to you by preschoolers, newly placed chairs propped next to your bedroom window), how intriguing it is that the single man is a mysterious alien creature whose motives are impossible to fathom.   He was and apparently still is--at least in some areas of the US.

Science, Social Science, Oddities, & Writing

Social Science

Why Americans are "weird" -- occasionally loaded/problematic/too-overarching terminology but nonetheless fascinating article (very long)

"report predicts that some of the poorest countries in the world could see acute poverty eradicated within 20 years."

Science

3D Map of Universe

Phoenix's Future Problems:  Temp + Water

Mike Brotherton's Launchpad

Direct imaging of newly formed planets

Reviving the Wooly Mammoth

Cloning extinct frogs

The Odd

Disappearance of Sandy Island

Cabinet built to look like an internet glitch

Backing up the Internet (history & future)

Writing

My Amazon bestseller made me nothing

Neuroscience in fiction: Ted Chiang

Michael Swanwick on how he gets his ideas

Christopher Barzak talks about being on the set of the movie for his first book.

Eight writing manuals that Rahul Kanakia considers not an absolute waste of time