“…The flashing lights, the dials, and the rest of the imagistic paraphernalia of science fiction functioned as social signs—signs people learned to read very quickly. They signaled technology. And technology was like the placard on the door saying, “Boys club! Girls, keep out. Blacks and Hispanics and the poor in general, go away! … The miniature technology you cite is not a shiny, glittering, polished technology. Above all, it comes in matte-black, plastic boxes. From the beepers, the Walkmen, the Diskmen, through the biggest ghetto blaster—the stuff put forward as portable is not chromium. It’s black. With the exception of the silver CD (which, to become functional, must be slipped into its black-encased digital reader), this is a very different set of signifiers from the sparkling bus bars, the quivering dials, and the fuming beakers of science fiction.” (Delaney 188, 192)
In his interview with Mark Dery, Samuel R. Delaney argues that these social signals contained within the images of technology in Science Fiction are part of what used to keep, and potentially what still keeps, black readers, and therefore black writers, away from the genre. However, in the case of the short story “The Pretended” by Darryl A. Smith, he turns this dichotomy on its head and uses it for his own purposes. Rather than allowing the logic of technology to lock him out, he uses it to make his statements.
The future technology the short story focuses on is a sort of AI – or at least human-level intelligence androids. This is the only technology he spends time describing, so that is what I will focus on as his technology of the future, regardless of whether or not chromium ‘keep out’ technologies exist in the extended world of “The Pretended.”
First off, he makes it plain right away that the androids are meant to resemble black people and/or be black people depending on how far along in the story it is mentioned. Secondly, he eliminates even the possibility of a white technology by basing the creation of the robots in guilt and denial: so that humankind can keep pretending both that they never committed the atrocity they did, and so that they can continue to pretend that ‘black aint people.’ Creating white robots would be counterintuitive in this case. Mnemosyne drives this point home: “…White robots. Think of it! White skin over brains made of light. White skin over platinum bones, over crystal-clear blood wid sparkles! That would be so beautiful, Eve! You’d just have to touch a machine like that! …they wouldn’t have to pretend they was God. God’s just what they would be…” (367-8).
In a way, the inclusion of this passage plays into what Samuel R. Delaney is saying about the technology of Science Fiction: that white technology is the desirable technology, and a technology that therefore estranges readers of color. However, by playing with the concept of white technology being impossible in the world setup of a story, Smith relegates the technology of science fiction into the realm of the “matte-black, plastic boxes” Delaney refers to, in effect giving this denied access back.
But it isn’t really as simple as that. Smith has also chosen black technology to make a point, to parallel what “Last Angel of History” termed social reality. It is only through this choice that his point comes across, as it is by grace of the fact that the main characters are robots that they can see the situation clearly: not only is Mnemosyne automatically privy to information about the implied genocide dubbed the ‘Methodote’ because of some kind of glitch, Diva Eve insists, “...You pretend you’re black and people at the same time. They tried to make it so you couldn’t do that. But they couldn’t. You always doin both. Cause they the same thing. Can’t no robot pretend two things is different when they aint. But people? People can pretend two things is different when they aint sure enough” (362). By stripping the situation of its emotional connotations, by technologizing it, Smith lays his thoughts out in fairly direct terms: if the world (read: America) doesn’t stop pretend that ‘black aint people,’ the results can, and will, be catastrophic.
Questions:
How does Delaney’s distinction between black technology and white technology interact with Nisi Shawl’s “Deep End?” Does it play into Delaney’s setup, or does it subvert it after the fashion of “The Pretended?”
How does the concept of the lullaby factor in to Smith’s scheme of dehumanization-through-technology? Does it seem out of place? Is it appropriate?
And an off-topic question, just for fun: Both Nisi Shawl and Darryl A. Smith reference Greek mythology heavily (the Psyche Moth, Mnemosyne, the myth of Galatea). What do you suppose makes these ancient stories vital to pieces set in the future? Does this have anything to do with the concept that “[one] can be backward-looking and forward-thinking at the same time” (Dery 211)?
No comments:
Post a Comment