"We creators are the engineers of possibility. And as this genre finally - however grudgingly - acknowledges that the dreams of the marginalized matter, and that ALL of us have a future, so will go the world. Soon, I hope."
N.K. Jemisin, 2018 Hugo Award for Best Novel acceptance speech
Her triumphant acceptance speech recognizes the barriers that she has had to overcome in order to stand at the podium. Unfortunately, not everyone has felt that she deserves to be recognized in this fashion. She has been insulted, harassed and dismissed, which makes her victory all the more laudable.
Her treatment reflects a larger problem in the science fiction community, which has been caught up in an unhappy conflict for the last few years. It is a conflict which in all ways defies and denies the fundamental truths of the genre.
The dispute is based on the contention of some writers and fans that too much of the science fiction being recognized with awards is receiving that recognition solely because of the race, sexuality or political convictions* of its creators rather than the quality of the writing**. In the short-sighted view of these reactionaries, divided into the Sad and Rabid Puppies***, winners such as Jemisin are only winners because of liberal politics.
To protest this perceived inequity, for the past few years the Rabid Puppies has been attempting (with some degree of success) to subvert or ruin the Hugo Awards by gaming the voting process so as to load the list of nominees with their choices, some of which are deliberate jokes rather than valid nominees.
The rest of the Worldcon membership has rallied in opposition to this unfortunate strategy, and Jemisin's third victory is a milestone that marks their ongoing success.
However, I'm puzzled and disappointed by the position taken by the Puppies in all their incarnations. For me, one of the core lessons that science fiction has taught me is acceptance of diversity.
Over the years, I've read books where the hero was a six foot long alien centipede who was afraid of heights, books where Martians eat the bodies of their dead as a sign of respect and love, and books where an artificial intelligence the size of planets displays its penmanship by sending greeting cards.
As such, the question of race or sex is almost a joke - if you can empathize with an alien insect's acrophobia, how can stories with gay characters or people of colour be a challenge in terms of acceptance?
Similarly, it doesn't matter to me if the work is created by authors of colour, gay authors, gay authors of colour, or gay authors of colour who worship Satan, worship God, deny God, or believe in Bigfoot - it's all irrelevant other than as minor biographical information, like being from Seattle or having two cats.
The thing that does matter to me is that I share a wider view of the universe with these authors, something which is far more important to me than the colour of anyone's skin or the nature of their sexuality. That wider view makes us members of the same family, a family that I am proud to belong to.
I discussed this whole situation with my wife Karli, and she made an observation about the Puppies that perfectly summarized the
problem: "They're afraid of the future."
What a sad, sad state of mind for a group of science fiction fans and authors.
- Sid
** I haven't had the pleasure of reading any of Ms. Jemisin's work (although I certainly plan to) so in lieu of personal experience I looked at her resume, which turned out to be both extensive and impressive. It's obvious that she has won her multiple awards by honing her craft, by working really really hard, and by being a talented writer - or, as she puts it, "Because I worked my ass off."
*** This innocuous sounding name comes from Sad Puppies founder Larry Correia, who said that the omission of his work from the Hugo ballots "made puppies sad".