OSAFS Map

OSAFS: First Impression

http://tinyurl.com/z935mgs

Well, I've certainly never read anything like this before.

Chang-Rae Lee's On Such a Full Sea takes a different take on dystopia and society, one that relies on the here & now in order to construct the there & then. In the span of who knows how many years, Baltimore becomes B-Mor, citizens of the past become B-Mor's so-called 'natives,' and technology advances exponentially. But what about the people? 

The most distinct aspect of OSAFS, in my opinion, is Lee's use of the first person plural to narrate the story. I had never before encountered the use of "we/us" to tell a tale, and it definitely changes the game. With frequent uses of phrases like "Of course" and sentences like "Indeed, it's difficult for us to understand...," it's hard to decide whether or not the readers can trust the narrator(s) (20). Stories told in the first person can very rarely avoid bias or exaggerative flair. 

The collective voice reminds me in some ways of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, and the novel's society's caste system which utilized social conditioning to force everyone into having the same opinions and interests. The same narrative. It's possible that something similar is occurring in Lee's novel; perhaps when Baltimore transformed into a high-tech, high-functioning community, and all the kids began learning the same - probably embellished - history, their voices came together and produced the "we/us."

A Non-Combined Birthday Present

Happy Birthday Mr. Khactu!!

25 looks good on you!!

P.S. It's still the 24th in Hawaii!

Collective Consciousness

According to the University of Chicago's glossary, collective consciousness "implies an internal knowing known by all, or a consciousness shared by a plurality of persons... it [is] an idea or proclivity that we all share, whoever specifically “we” might entail." 

For us at Andover, our collective consciousness could be the knowledge that winter term sucks, that 5th lunch is the busiest, and that sitting in Lower Right as a freshman is, well, risky. This knowledge helps us identify with Andover and its community; they let us know that yes, we go here, and to some degree, we belong. 

But what happens when you can't rely on what you thought you knew? 

That's what happens to the Dai Viet girls Catherine and Johanna in "The Waiting Stars" by Aliette de Bodard as they slowly discover the falsehoods of their past and present. The collective consciousness they carried with them begins to fall apart as they realize their community is built on lies. I can't imagine what that would be like - to lose not only my identity, but my identity as a part of a community as well. 

http://csmt.uchicago.edu/glossary2004/collectiveconsciousness.htm 

Defining Asian-American Science Fiction

SF is not just literature, it's a community

SF vs. fantasy? (SF = answering questions such as, "What if?"/"If this goes on" vs. fantasy being more about magical ideas that are not necessarily related to our world)

SF is using what we know today to explore creative, hypothetical ideas. A platform for experts and amateurs to question where the future is heading, using multi-disciplinary fields of information. It strives to be diverse in its themes as well its as characters, settings, etc, and only in this way can truly be SF. 

Asian-American aspect = three different categories: 

• SF that is written by As/Ams
• SF that includes As/Am characters
• SF that explores As/Am cultures, themes, and/or identities

#relatable

When I read "The Paper Menagerie" by Ken Liu, I definitely identified with several aspects of the narrator and his relationship with his mother. Like many other Asian-Americans, I have gone through similar experiences of micro-aggressions and racism at school, desiring to assimilate, and so on during my childhood and sometimes even today. And though the degree to which these things have to do with my parents - and my mother in particular - varies a bit with that of the narrator, it still applies to my narrative.

Next to the line, "'Speak English,'" I drew an arrow and wrote, this is so familiar. For the narrator, these two words embody the contempt he feels for his mother's heritage, which she has passed on to him and is at odds with the white-centric environment he lives in. They represent the narrator's intense want and struggle to assimilate to America.

For me, these words are familiar, but for different reasons. My mother is native Korean, and moved to the United States with my father (who had grown up in California) after getting married. Needless to say, her English is not perfect, and she still prefers to speak in Korean. Having gone to international and American schools my entire life, my English is much better than my Korean, and I often have to tell my mother "Speak English" if I want to understand exactly what she is saying. I guess it's not so much about my want to assimilate or discard my Korean identity, but more so a disconnect that exists between my mother and I due to language. It can definitely be frustrating from time to time to overcome that language barrier with her, but I always feel a twang of guilt asking her to "Speak English" for my sake. Like the narrator at the end of the story, I'm absolutely interested in learning more about Korean and becoming more fluent, at the very least for my mom.