In the introduction to his 2016 anthology Drowned Worlds: Tales from the Anthropocene
and Beyond (Solaris), editor Jonathan
Strahan paints a dire picture for humanity: climate swings are becoming more
extreme; environmental degradation is inching ever forward; and many natural
systems that sustain life are threatening to collapse. Human existence as we
know it appears in jeopardy—a dire picture, indeed. When looking at the current state of science
fiction, however, one could barely tell.
Environmental concern appears in pockets and niches, but with the
sustained popularity of space opera, the techno-fantasies of hard sf, the pure
escapism of most genre-blending, and the increased quantity of retro-pulp, the
question looms: would the stories that Strahan selected for the anthology rise
above to match the seriousness of his outlay, or simply be an overbilled
gateway to more genre fluff...
Opening the anthology—and the first dog to mark the fire
hydrant labelled “drowned Earth tableaux,” Paul McAuley’s “Elves of Antarctica”
takes readers to the southernmost continent after ocean waters have forced the
world’s population to the poles. While telling
of an ordinary Joe’s hobby tracking mysterious stones that turn up in the
Antarctic ice melt, the focus remains laying down hard sf imagery in straight-forward,
didactic fashion. Next dog up at the
tableaux fire hydrant is a reprint story (the only in the anthology): Kim
Stanley Robinson’s “Venice Drowned.”
First published in 1981, the scene portrayed is a Venice nearly entirely
buried underwater (of course) and a boatman who earns money piloting tourists
to dive sites. Minor drama occurs, but
overall the scene is more important than the story. Having a nice narrative voice but little
else, “Inselberg”
by Nalo Hopkinson is the next hound in line, this time about a tour
operator and the group he takes to sea viewing underwater architecture (of
course). There is some fantasy/magic
realism/exaggeration to spice things up, but it remains a tough piece to take
with any seriousness.
A little retro sf and a little Theodore Sturgeon, “Who Do
You Love?” by Kathleen Ann Goonan provides a refreshing break from the details
of a flooded Earth. Ultimately a story about our closest relatives, the
drastic potential for global warming is channeled through one family (even as
they have the names of Greek gods and goddesses). Moving on to a nicely developed
love story, a love story exacerbated by the exigiences brought on by rising
ocean waters (of course), “Brownsville Station” by Christopher Rowe likewise bucks
the tableaux trend to tell of a train conductor on the Key West to Cancun line,
and an unexpected stop that leads to life-changing events. “Dispatches
from the Cradle: The Hermit – Forty-Eight Hours in the Sea of Massachusetts” by
Ken Liu is as convoluted as its title.
Not the most coherent tale, Liu patches together Thoreau, an inhabited solar
system, a Singaporean tourist, and other items to talk about humanity in such
broad strokes as to lack teeth.
Instead of flight to the
solar system, Charlie Jane Anders turns the Great Decimation (civilization's
end at the hand of mass flooding, of course) into futuro-hippy-ness. Not enemy, the ocean is friend. Feeling
a very millenial story, it’s largely self-assuming: there is little of substance—a
touch of soap opera, some personal issues that are relayed in more YA terms
than adult, and then the words cease—pop, like a bubble. Where Anders' story is a bit tweenish, Nina
Allan's is mature. The first work of significance in Drowned Worlds, “The Common Tongue, the Present Tense, the Known" tells
of a woman trying to come to terms with the current state of the world (a world
where ocean waters are a few meters higher than today, of course). Where
Anders fails to produce subtle human drama, Allan does so via a story addressing
one of the underlying issues to environmental decline, namely the nomenclature/symbolism
we attach to things in everyday life, and the meaning inherent to it. She does this through the softly revealed history
of the woman’s past, all the while issues of her present take their toll.
Jeffrey Ford is one of this
generation's top writers. But "What Is," for as true as it is
at heart, is not an example why. Telling of the 21st century Oklahoma
Dust Bowl in the wake of global warming, America's heartland has been converted
into a dry wasteland, and very few survive.
When the Air Force makes a supply drop—the last, they claim—to a remote
area, the handful of residents who live nearby are forced to decide how to
divvy up the parcel—or not. Western cum
post-ap, it is the most unique story in the anthology for setting, but is developed
in such indelicate fashion as to make one believe Ford fired it off in a couple
nights just to fulfill the commission.
The character introduction, in particular, is forced to the point of
being painful, leaving the remainder viscerally real in meaning, but not a good
example of how to write a short story.
Another great writer producing mediocre material for this anthology is
Rachel Swirsky. “Destroyed by the Waters,”
aside from the less-than-imaginative title, tells of a couple who return to the
place in New Orleans where their son perished—a New Orleans buried underwater (of
course). Inconsistent prose-wise and maudlin
in its ending, it’s not bad, but Swirsky has written better, for sure.
Perhaps the most striking story in the collection, Sam
Miller’s “Last Gods” tells of an unidentifiable world wherein civilization has
collapsed, and a strange sea with dark, roaming gods terrorizes a population of
ragged but subservient humans. The
middle section a touch rudimentary, Miller reveals the story’s value in the
final paragraphs, and it’s powerful. But
is it a view to embrace? Don’t know, but
it is grounded, and challenging.
Ostensibly set in his Twinmaker universe, “The New Venusians” by Sean
Williams tells the classic story of rebellious teenage girl sent to live with a
mad scientist grandfather in the atmosphere of Venus. (There are humans living on Venus because
Earth is flooded, of course). An even
madder scientist has loosed experiments in the planet’s atmosphere, putting the
population in jeopardy, and yes, the day needs saving. A simple story, but perhaps forgivable given
it’s intended to be YA.
A spot of satire to change the anthology’s mood, James
Morrow’s “Only
Ten More Shopping Days Left Till Ragnarök” is Drowned World’s most direct attack on
the potential causes of the anthropocene.
Highlighting the cynicism many politicians and commercial interests
direct toward information regarding climate change and environmental
degradation, Morrow tells the darkly comical tale of a couple on an Arctic
expedition and the unexpected scenario they find themselves involved in with
the natives. Capable of being whittled
down to a much sharper point, not sure how much time Morrow spent refining the
story. A spot of
storytelling inended to highlight the importance and meaning of the act itself,
Lavie Tidhar’s “Drowned” tells of a family sitting around a fire telling
tales. A second spot of satire to close
the anthology, Catherynne M. Valente’s “The Future is Blue” opens on the line:
“My name is Tetley Abednego and I am the
most hated girl in Garbagetown.” Tetley a have-not among haves, she spends her
days in subservience to a collapsed civilization (due to rising ocean waters,
of course) still ruled by the misguided.
For the over-the-top dystopian mood, the story is reminiscent of Valente’s
earlier short “Fade to White,” but lacks its relative complexity.
In the end, Drowned
Worlds is not a failure, rather something of a disappointment. It’s certainly not all genre fluff, but
neither is it something to be taken with seriousness in every story. Few live up to the uber-serious environment
billing in the introduction. Strahan
writes each story “is part of asking the
question of how we move forward from here…”, but I struggle to see “here.”
To my knowledge, none of the stories are set in the present or even
near-present/future. All are set after
an environmental collapse. They take a
drowned Earth for granted. Only perhaps Nina
Allan, James Morrow, Sam Miller, Jeffrey Ford and Catherynne Valente’s stories come
close to offering solutions or try to identify the causes of what has brought about
contemporary environmental concern. Charlie
Jane Anders, Sean Williams, Christopher Rowe, Lavie Tidhar, and others have
either written on subjects that do add some degree of variety to the anthology,
yet do little to address the threat of environmental catastrophe, or worse yet,
are just hermetic science fantasy. In
short, significantly more could have been done to address Strahan’s call to
arms. For my money, books like Kim
Stanley Robinsons’ Science in the Capital
series (Green Earth) look at rising
ocean waters and changing climate with greater pertinence.
And did I mention the novel’s theme—so narrow, the drowned
Earth scene getting old, tired, fast, of course. Story after story after story after story with
high ocean waters…
All original to the anthology (save the K.S. Robinson
story), the following are the fifteen stories selected for Drowned Worlds:
Elves of Antarctica, Paul McAuley
Dispatches from the Cradle: The Hermit – Forty-Eight
Hours in the Sea of Massachusetts, Ken Liu
Venice Drowned, Kim Stanley Robinson
Brownsville Station, Christopher Rowe
Who Do You Love?, Kathleen Ann Goonan
Because Change Was the Ocean and We Lived by Her Mercy,
Charlie Jane Anders
The Common Tongue, the Present Tense, the Known,
Nina Allan
What is, Jeffrey Ford
Destroyed by the Waters, Rachel Swirsky
The New Venusians, Sean Williams
Inselberg, Nalo Hopkinson
Only Ten More Shopping Days Left Till Ragnarök,
James Morrow
Last Gods, Sam J. Miller
Drowned, Lavie Tidhar
The Future is Blue, Catherynne M. Valente
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