Yuletide Reveal Note
Jan. 1st, 2011 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seekingferretMy Yuletide gift, the fantastic "Six Characters in Search of a Fandom" that I've already linked to, was written by ![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p2.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
mithrigil. It remains fantastic. If you haven't read it yet, read it. Six Characters in Search of a Fandom"
I wrote "December 25th, 2010" for AylaPascal, a fairly short glimpse at a possible future for the characters of John Wyndham's 'cosy catastrophe' novel The Day of the Triffids. If you don't know the novel, you should. It's about giant man-eating plants taking over England (and presumably the whole world). It's a ridiculous apocalyptic novel and it's a lot of fun.
It was, however, written in the 1950s by a middle class Englishman. It has ISSUES. I kept thinking of a quip I put in Ford Prefect's mouth in "Revisions": The British empire has been setting for the past two hundred years. This will just be... the ultimate setting, kind of. When he thinks of it like that, it really doesn't sound that bad..
When I wrote that story,sanguinity and I talked about that line and why it was so uncomfortable and so true, how Imperialism and colonialism have a nasty way of creeping into your thought patterns even when they oppress you. And then I found I had to write fic for a novel in which the end of the world happens, and all the characters can think about is how it means the end of English living.
I knew I wanted to do something with that. I threw ideas back and forth with Alai. I considered writing a story set across the Iron Curtain: How do the Soviets deal with the triffid crisis? But I don't have enough background in Soviet science history to be able to do that story without massive research. I considered writing a story set in the Amazon or the Congo, showing lie to an early throwaway bit about how in England, pre-crisis, the triffids were just pests, but in the jungle, they were a real nightmare for 'the natives'. But I couldn't figure out how to do it without too much rehash of Heart of Darkness and the introduction of new kinds of fail, without doing even more research. So eventually I grabbed onto an image I had in my head and ran with it wherever it took me.
The image initially was of a romantic action hero, heavily muscled and with a mustache that makes him look vaguely Spanish, bandoliers draped over his body Rambo-style, AK-47 in his hand, preparing to lead the fight for liberation. Liberation from the triffids. "Tonight the Reconquest begins" was the first sentence I wrote, and in my head that was meant to echo the notion of Reconquista. I eventually toned down my usage of that mantra, which was originally going to be a repeated chorus through the story.
And then I just wrote whatever came. And I discovered as I wrote that I didn't want to write the story of the reconquest itself. I wanted some action, but what really interested me was these characters, who had spent fifty or sixty years isolated on the Isle of Wight, led by brilliant but idiosyncratic men and women with a pathological hatred of the triffids and the Nazis, with a sense of Empire fallen, with a sense of singularity sharpened by the fact that they were the ones who survived, despite all odds.
My recipient wrote that she liked how I used 'the language of politics', which struck me as a sort of odd phrase. I think politics has many languages, and I think the choice of which language we use to speak about politics matters greatly. If anything, my object was to undermine politics and show how ideas and ideologies accrete on people in ways we don't really understand, in ways that are sometimes difficult to change when circumstances change. I sought to show a society that was able to fight back against the triffids, but wasn't able to think critically about what that meant. I wanted to use their own words to show their flaws and their strengths.
I wanted to show people so British they didn't even realize how British they were, just the way Wyndham did. But I wanted to be more self-conscious than Wyndham about my own biases. To that end, I am eternally grateful to my beta![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cyphomandra for pointing me to places where I hadn't caught the insertion of my own attitudes. Not to mention the extremely valuable assistance with British swearing. I can curse a New York storm right good, but I'm lost when it comes to soddings and bloodies.
I like the way my story turned out. I planted all these seeds of doubt, all of these moments of "Wait a minute, are you sure you meant to say that?", all of these inversions that ask "Have we become the bad guys we thought we were fighting against", and then I left my characters the heroes anyway.
I think the title is maybe overly cute, but I like it anyway. I've always loved Randall Garrett's concept that his Lord D'Arcy stories are taking place contemporaneously with our timeline, in an alternate universe. My story is supposed to be understood the same way. This is what this year's Christmas might have been like, if the triffids had taken over nearly sixty years ago.
Last note, fornaraht... The following note is part of my brainstorming sheet:
7) Triffid Requiem. Benjamin Britten is moved by his loss of sight and the collapse of civilization to compose one final piece. His great challenge is figuring out how to get it performed.
Another odd note on the brainstorming sheet:
1) The Trouble with Triffids: Uhura brings back a cute little walking plant onto the Enterprise. With time and nurturing, it develops a lethal stinger and wreaks DOOM on the crew of the Enterprise.
I wrote "December 25th, 2010" for AylaPascal, a fairly short glimpse at a possible future for the characters of John Wyndham's 'cosy catastrophe' novel The Day of the Triffids. If you don't know the novel, you should. It's about giant man-eating plants taking over England (and presumably the whole world). It's a ridiculous apocalyptic novel and it's a lot of fun.
It was, however, written in the 1950s by a middle class Englishman. It has ISSUES. I kept thinking of a quip I put in Ford Prefect's mouth in "Revisions": The British empire has been setting for the past two hundred years. This will just be... the ultimate setting, kind of. When he thinks of it like that, it really doesn't sound that bad..
When I wrote that story,
sanguinity and I talked about that line and why it was so uncomfortable and so true, how Imperialism and colonialism have a nasty way of creeping into your thought patterns even when they oppress you. And then I found I had to write fic for a novel in which the end of the world happens, and all the characters can think about is how it means the end of English living.I knew I wanted to do something with that. I threw ideas back and forth with Alai. I considered writing a story set across the Iron Curtain: How do the Soviets deal with the triffid crisis? But I don't have enough background in Soviet science history to be able to do that story without massive research. I considered writing a story set in the Amazon or the Congo, showing lie to an early throwaway bit about how in England, pre-crisis, the triffids were just pests, but in the jungle, they were a real nightmare for 'the natives'. But I couldn't figure out how to do it without too much rehash of Heart of Darkness and the introduction of new kinds of fail, without doing even more research. So eventually I grabbed onto an image I had in my head and ran with it wherever it took me.
The image initially was of a romantic action hero, heavily muscled and with a mustache that makes him look vaguely Spanish, bandoliers draped over his body Rambo-style, AK-47 in his hand, preparing to lead the fight for liberation. Liberation from the triffids. "Tonight the Reconquest begins" was the first sentence I wrote, and in my head that was meant to echo the notion of Reconquista. I eventually toned down my usage of that mantra, which was originally going to be a repeated chorus through the story.
And then I just wrote whatever came. And I discovered as I wrote that I didn't want to write the story of the reconquest itself. I wanted some action, but what really interested me was these characters, who had spent fifty or sixty years isolated on the Isle of Wight, led by brilliant but idiosyncratic men and women with a pathological hatred of the triffids and the Nazis, with a sense of Empire fallen, with a sense of singularity sharpened by the fact that they were the ones who survived, despite all odds.
My recipient wrote that she liked how I used 'the language of politics', which struck me as a sort of odd phrase. I think politics has many languages, and I think the choice of which language we use to speak about politics matters greatly. If anything, my object was to undermine politics and show how ideas and ideologies accrete on people in ways we don't really understand, in ways that are sometimes difficult to change when circumstances change. I sought to show a society that was able to fight back against the triffids, but wasn't able to think critically about what that meant. I wanted to use their own words to show their flaws and their strengths.
I wanted to show people so British they didn't even realize how British they were, just the way Wyndham did. But I wanted to be more self-conscious than Wyndham about my own biases. To that end, I am eternally grateful to my beta
cyphomandra for pointing me to places where I hadn't caught the insertion of my own attitudes. Not to mention the extremely valuable assistance with British swearing. I can curse a New York storm right good, but I'm lost when it comes to soddings and bloodies.I like the way my story turned out. I planted all these seeds of doubt, all of these moments of "Wait a minute, are you sure you meant to say that?", all of these inversions that ask "Have we become the bad guys we thought we were fighting against", and then I left my characters the heroes anyway.
I think the title is maybe overly cute, but I like it anyway. I've always loved Randall Garrett's concept that his Lord D'Arcy stories are taking place contemporaneously with our timeline, in an alternate universe. My story is supposed to be understood the same way. This is what this year's Christmas might have been like, if the triffids had taken over nearly sixty years ago.
Last note, for
naraht... The following note is part of my brainstorming sheet: 7) Triffid Requiem. Benjamin Britten is moved by his loss of sight and the collapse of civilization to compose one final piece. His great challenge is figuring out how to get it performed.
Another odd note on the brainstorming sheet:
1) The Trouble with Triffids: Uhura brings back a cute little walking plant onto the Enterprise. With time and nurturing, it develops a lethal stinger and wreaks DOOM on the crew of the Enterprise.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-02 08:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-02 03:43 pm (UTC)I have to say, the very concept of this story moves me about as much as fiction ever does. Is there a chance that you might write it after all? Because if you don't, I might need to...
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-02 06:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-03 02:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-05 07:33 am (UTC)Your recipient here! I hope you don't mind me commenting here. I just wanted to apologise for my really vague sign-up and say that that was exactly the sort of thing I wanted. I love fics where the reader slowly realises that there is no right and wrong and that sometimes, people don't think about the real consequences of their actions. Dystopias are really fascinating.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-05 02:07 pm (UTC)I'm glad it did cover the ground you were looking for.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-11 07:21 pm (UTC)