There are
many characteristics universal to the sexes, and among them is the respect
confidence commands. A person may speak
utter rubbish, but if they do so in a firm voice, with an active body, and in a
dynamic tone that implies they know what they are talking about, it may take
some time before the listener figures out that it is indeed bullshit. (Watch any televangelist for a fine
example.) Joanna Russ’ 1983 novella “Souls”
is the story of one such person. Their
ideas, however, are the opposite of bullshit.
“Souls” is
the story of the Abbess Radegunde, as told through the eyes of the novitiate
Radulphus. Their abbey falling under
Viking attack one day, instead of organizing the defense of the grounds Radegunde
rushes out to face the group of rape-and-pillage minded men, alone. Swords without ‘s’ her weapons, at every turn
she surprises the men, negotiating terms for the safety of the abbey and its
people. Disaster is not completely
averted, but the hostile takeover yields bigger surprises yet—even for the
sharp-tongued Abbess.
And it is
Abbess Radegunde who is the star of the show.
Zigging when people expect her to zag, flaunting the Catholic church to
accomplish loftier goals, and dealing with the Viking raiders in a specific,
crafty way, her wit and wisdom transcend the page. Contrasting the greed and lust of the men,
she deflates their interests, one laterally applied, indirect argument at a
time. Championing domesticity, the value
of mother, and vision beyond mere materialism, her message, and Russ’, is
clearly laid out in pointed terms.
Problems
start to creep in, however, when looking beyond the novella’s agenda. Radegunde is a dynamo that treads the line of
being larger-than-life, but never quite crosses it. The other characters, however, are less
rounded. Thorvard, leader of the
Vikings, as well as the other characters, are story pawns rather than a living,
breathing humans. Knowing the agenda,
however, the stereotypes can be forgiven.
Which leads to plotting…
Reading “Souls”
I kept thinking back to James Tiptree Jr.’s “Houston, Houston Do You Read?” The novellas of very similar import (to contrast
gender via approaches to, and mindsets regarding, life), I can’t help but
compare Russ’ story unfavorably. Where
Tiptree Jr. patiently sets the scene and escalates gender tension toward a
moment which forms both the conclusion and exclamation point on the
socio-political agenda, Russ opens with a clash, but then depends on a moment
of transcendence at the climax for effect.
Were the moment of transcendence to walk back through the story and
connect a Hansel-and-Gretel trail of pebbles, then all would be fine. But it doesn’t. The events occurring to Radegunde at the end
are disconnected from the main storyline.
It causes such a variety of questions that the body of ideas built
around gender to that point becomes confused with metaphysical matters. Are aliens real? Were they even aliens—perhaps angels? Is God an alien? Is God/Catholicism real? The result is imagery superficially bright
and inviting. But at a deeper level, it is bolted onto a plot that is forced and ideologically deconstructs itself. Had Russ chosen a key gender point to hinge
the climax upon, rather than one which draws the story into a wide, wide range
of religious and metaphysical concerns, the conclusion would have stuck. As it stands, it’s a sudden ascension with incongruous
rationale.
In the
end, “Souls” is a concept novella with an extremely strong main character. Soft not hard sci-fi the precept, Russ
contrasts the genders toward promoting not only feminine values, but perennial
wisdom regarding materialism and roles in society. For this, it is an important story in the
genre. But the weakness of plotting,
particularly the ending, does not serve the agenda conceptually. A nice piece of eye candy, it distracts from
the earlier points rather than underlining them. Regardless, the story is enjoyable, and its
ideas, at least, transcend the page.
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