Melting into Dystopias

As a writer who is friends with other writers, of course my friends and I all read. And of course because we both read and write, we like to discuss the books we read; what we think of the plot twists, the characters, etc. We debate points, consider outside possibilities, predict possible outcomes, and ferret out weak spots.

So during one such discussion, my fellow writers in my writing group and I started talking about dystopias. We've all seen them. The most famous ones right now are The Hunger Games (the second film, Catching Fire, came out semi-recently), followed by the Divergent Trilogy, the first film of which premiers in mid-March. Then there are the classics like Soilent Green and Fahrenheit 451.

But it seems like these days, the classification of dystopia is being thrown around a lot when it doesn't really fit well with the actual premise of the book.

What is the biggest theme of a dystopian novel? A dysfunctional government, seething with corruption, that's basically out to get you. Screw up once, you're dead meat. In Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, reading actual books is a crime that—if you refuse to surrender said books—can result in your execution.

In The Hunger Games, if you defy the Capitol, they come after you hard (case in point, the ultimate destruction of Districts 12 and 13). In Lauren Oliver's Delirium, anyone who breaks the laws to prevent "infection" from this supposedly contagious mental illness is sanctioned, then put in prison or punished in some horrible way. I recently wrote an essay, actually, about the difference between utopia/dystopia and straight-up dystopia novels, highlighting the acknowledged tyrannical fist of a corrupt government.

But a lot of books these days that I've seen have been labeled as dystopias when honestly, it doesn’t actually seem like they are. Maybe it's a sales ploy sort of thing. Maybe it's to make more people buy the books. I don't know. But I'm seeing less dystopia in my dystopian novels these days, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

In Kiera Cass's supposedly dystopian novel The Selection, we're introduced to the kingdom of Ilea, which is run via a caste system. While they have rebellions, and the laws can be fairly strict (being pregnant outside of wedlock can get you thrown in prison unless you were sexually assaulted), there isn't really anything corrupt in the government that we see in the first novel. The government isn't tight-fisted or cruel or tyrannical. The king and queen genuinely care about their subjects and their kingdom. What is so dystopian about this book, exactly?

Hop over to Wither by Lauren Destefano, first book in The Chemical Garden Trilogy. In Wither (and its sequel, Fever), the government doesn’t really show up in the storyline. You see the president on television maybe once or twice. You hear about riots and rebel attacks and all that.

But no policemen or government workers ever attack the main character or anyone she knows. The bad guys don't have government authority behind them. The government is actually pretty much an ineffective mess sludging around in the background, not doing anything. The tyrannical evil entity is the father-in-law of the main character, Rhine—and he's the villain of the novels, as well. In fact, his creepy attitude and scary dictatorship reminds me more of less-violent and overtly-psychotic Annie from Stephen King's Misery than President Snow from The Hunger Games.

I'm currently reading a so-called dystopian novel called Inhuman by Kat Falls, where the government has a fairly iron-fisted grip on the country. But that's because about twenty years prior in the storyline, a virulent and so-far incurable form of fast-mutating super-rabies swept through the country and martial law was basically put into place to try and stop it before everyone keeled over dead. The virus is still incurable, and outbreaks still happen.

Imagine if zombie plague popped up in the real world. How would the US government handle it? Exactly the way they do in Inhuman. That's not dystopian. The government's not corrupt. No one's rights are being unfairly squashed or whatever. It's a public safety issue, like the cops forcing you to stay in your homes while they try to apprehend a terrorist running around out on the streets.

I could go on for days about this, actually. Novels like Divergent by Veronica Roth, Dearly, Departed by Lia Habel, Rot and Ruin by Jonathon Mabry, The Loners by Lex Thomas, Shatter Me by Tahareh Mafi, Insignia by SJ Kincaid, or Gone by Michael Grant aren't actually dystopian novels. Most (though not all) of these actually fall more under post-apocalyptic, which isn't the same thing—though I fear it may be melting into the blanket-label of dystopian.

Am I being too picky about this? Maybe. But I actually know people who hold the dystopian classification in contempt, and those people aren't buying a lot of the books I mentioned above which are being incorrectly labeled.

What's my point? Authors, editors, agents, publishers, reviewers—be specific. Just because it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, doesn't mean it's a duck. It might actually say "cock-a-doodle-doo" instead of "quack," which probably means it's not a duck. Actually, if it looks like a duck but crows like a rooster, it's probably a parrot in disguise. And maybe readers shouldn’t judge a book by cover or classification, but you know they do. So please, advertise accurately.

Stay tuned for reviews for Shatter Me, Inhuman, The Loners, and Rot and Ruin coming soon!

— LA Knight

Insignia - SJ Kincaid

 

The earth is in the middle of WWIII in Insignia, the first entry in S.J. Kincaid’s fast-paced sci-fi adventure trilogy. The planet’s natural resources are almost gone, and the war is being fought to control the assets of the solar system. The enemy is winning.

The salvation may be Tom Raines. Tom doesn’t seem like a hero. He’s a short fourteen-year-old with bad skin. But he has the virtual-reality gaming skills that make him a phenom behind the controls of the battle drones.

As a new member of the Intrasolar Forces, Tom’s life completely changes. Suddenly, he’s someone important. He has new opportunities, friends, and a shot at having a girlfriend. But there’s a price to pay...


So I haven’t done a book review in forever and a freaking decade awhile, so I thought I'd do one now because I literally just finished this absolutely fantabulously amazebeans interesting book called Insignia and I want to review it. I'll be honest, it surprised me.

Some of you may not have ever read Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card, so I'll give you the basic rundown. A 6-yr-old kid gets conscripted by this place called Battle School, where young geniuses from all over the world are sent to train in military-style tactics and strategy because Earth is at war with this alien race (known to humans only as Buggers, due to their insect-like appearance). And Ender is like, the genius to end all genius. And so he moves his way through the ranks of Battle School, becoming the lead of his own company, and ends up becoming Earth's secret weapon against the Buggers by the time he's like, twelve.

What does this have to do with Insignia, you ask? When I first read the summary for Insignia on the inside flappy-thing, the first thing I thought was, "Oh, it's Ender's Game except instead of fighting aliens, we're fighting other humans; and instead of kids, it's teenagers."

Boy, was I wrong. And I'm glad to be because SJ Kincaid blew me sky high out of the freaking water impressed me a lot with her debut novel about Tom Raines, the US's secret weapon in World War III.

First of all, gotta say, Ms. Kincaid has done her research into politics, computers, and corporate finance and business law. She sets up the world of Insignia (and how it got from our admittedly totally screwed up problematic but still sort of functioning and relatively normal world to the culture we see in the book) within the first fifteen pages, and does it believably. What's a little ironic is that about a year ago my uncle and I were talking about one of the flaws in our government system (who does and does not qualify as a "lobbyist" according to Congress) which fuels some of the conflict in this book.

In Ender's Game, kids fight for the honor of their countries and the safety of their planet. In Insignia, teenagers are fighting for all kinds of reasons! In some cases, it's money. Others, it's fame. Prestige. Because it's a dream for them to be what's called a Combatant (a fighter who controls space-mecha armies and spaceships with their brains, which sounds so stupid but somehow totally isn't—how do you do that, Ms. Kincaid?). Because the corporations who fund all of this want them to and so will give them lots of toys and shiny presents.

But in Tom's case, it's because of something a lot of young people can relate to: he wants to be somebody. Somebody important. Somebody who makes a difference. And that fundamental motivation for the character is what makes him so likeable and so relatable. That and he's not some hot, buff, teenage Greek god. Starting out, he's short, skinny, and has the kind of acne that'll scar you for life, even in the sci-fi future of Insignia.

What's also nice is the plot twists. For the most part, considering it's 445 pages, Insignia's story is pretty straightforward. And yet, it's not. Certain plot twists just throw you for these momentous curves, and the routine and world-building of the rest of the novel surrounding these "whoa, did not see that coming" events gives us as the reader the perfect amount of time to breathe after the sudden lurch in the rollercoaster. People you thought were friends (or at least allies) turn out to be absolutely bat-crap crazy enemies; people you thought would be enemies turn out to be socially awkward totally adorkable friends; and people you thought were just tertiary characters filling the background turn into the people you really gotta watch out for. Like in real politics, alliances between the different heroes and different villains forge, shatter, and are reforged constantly, turning the tables around just when you think you know exactly what's going on.

Tom is also very well written. He's really such a boy. I'm of the firm belief that guys and girls just think differently. But Tom and his male friends are written so realistically, it's awesome. Guy Banter between these guys is so fun to read (like how he and a boy named Vik start calling themselves the Doctors of Doom; being barely fourteen, of course they're a little ridiculous, but that's what makes them so real). What's even more fun is them trying to teach their female friend how guys do the banter thing.

I've got to say, though, that though I love Tom and his main group of friends, I have four favorite characters, and only one of them is an MC. Also, beware, SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS ahead. There, I think that's an adequate warning.

My first favorite character: Yuri. He's a huge, young Russian kid (who became a naturalized US citizen when he was very young) being pushed around by the system because America and its allies are at war with Russia and everyone's worried Yuri's a spy. Is he a spy? Come on, he's my favorite character. What kind of treacherous yutz do you guys think I am, lol? But the reason I like him is something very small and very simple, but very important.

He has a crush on this girl named Wyatt. Yes, she's a girl. No sex-change, just stupid parents. Anyway, at one point, Yuri and Wyatt are talking to someone who says something very cruel and cutting to Wyatt. Most guys, when their girlfriends get insulted, get aggressive and loud and maybe swing a couple punches. Yuri doesn't do that. He grabs the guy by the scruff of the neck and says in this very quiet, very dangerous voice, "You do not speak to her like that." And suddenly the guy is like, "Whoa. This guy is WAY bigger than me. He could squash me like a bug. Oh, crap."

I love that. Seriously, Ms. Kincaid—that part is just EPIC. I LOVE IT. Quiet chivalry.

Second favorite character: Wyatt herself, because she is just like me when I was her age—socially awkward, always putting my foot in my mouth, feeling physically inadequate all the time, and getting defensive at first when people are nice to her. I had a moment of total rapport with her when she found out Yuri had a thing for her and at first she was like, "Okay, who paid you?" That was me in high school. I have rarely, if ever, seen a character in a book and thought, "That is totally and completely me." What's nice is that, although Wyatt is probably the smartest kid in the school for Combatants, and the BEST hacker/programmer there, she's also strong because they basically attend military school and have to do PE three times a week for like, two hours. It's nice to see a strong female character who's smart AND fit.

Third favorite character: Elliot Ramirez, call-sign Ares, the most famous Combatant in the US. At first I thought the kid was a total putz…then, as you read, you realize he wants you to think that, and that the reason he's not aggressive or rude with his trainees is because he doesn't believe in bullying them. Which gets him automatic brownie points from this bookwork. What's even better—he legitimately wants to help his trainees, and he even saves Tom from getting the crud pounded out of him by one of the various enemies in this book. Plus his virtual-reality simulations that he uses to train Tom and the others are COOL! Here's a list of my faves:

1) Terminators versus Predators (not the xenomorph aliens; Terminators! I don't even know who would win, honestly)
2) Greeks versus Trojans (where, contrary to history, Achilles—the VR simulation played by a girl—battles Phelistea, the Queen of the Amazons—played in the VR simulation by Tom)
3) Wolves versus a moose (the fact that they can make the kids think they're wolves and it takes them a while to remember they're not is SO cool!)
4) Zombie Confederate soldiers at the Battle of Gettysburg
5) Scotsmen chasing the trainees across Culloden Field toward an English castle (where'd that come from? Hehehe) which is then, once invaded and captured by the trainees, invaded by Japanese ronins

VR Tech is like, the thing I wish we had in real life, man. But then I'd be a crack addict. *sigh*

My fourth, final, and most surprising favorite: Tom's dad. Why is this surprising? His dad is a gambling addict and a drunk. They're basically homeless at the beginning of the book. His dad is very anti-government, anti-establishment, anti-anything-that-smacks-of-rules-conspiracy-or-propaganda. He's also fairly irresponsible, as far as parents go. He does not get an A+ in Parenting or a gold star.

So why do I like him so much? Because he loves Tom, and it's obvious. His dad despises government, despises the military, and think Tom's making a BIG mistake in becoming a Combatant…but he is still proud of his son's achievements within that field. When he sees Tom fighting at a simulated battle to show off the new American awesomeness (basically), even though his dad has always been like, "Ich, mecha fighting, boo," when he sees Tom, he knows who's piloting the ship because he knows his son's style from watching him play gaming tournaments. And when Tom wins against someone who until then was considered unbeatable, his dad isn't like, "Ick." His dad says, "That's my son up there. That's my boy." And he makes sure that Tom knows afterwards how proud he is.

I absolutely love that. Tom's dad is very flawed—but his most loveable and redeeming quality is a GREAT one. Well done, Ms. Kincaid.

All in all, I give this book 4.6/5 stars. It could have been better—more plot surprises and twists—but not by much. My only disappointment was that it seems the relationship between Yuri and Wyatt is going to turn into a problem, and both of them deserve a break.

And there's the pathetic and cowardly desertion resignation of Tom's friend Steven Beamer, who apparently didn't realize how serious everything was, from the Combatant trainees. If I'd been fourteen (Beamer's age) I'd have been absolutely disgusted by that kind of reasoning. This isn't a major flaw in the book, but it makes me wonder if SJ Kincaid realizes what kind of impression I got from this act—that Beamer cares more about himself and what he wants then his friends or his commitments. And it's not like he can't have a life (with a wife and kids) and have to choose not to be a Combatant. He could do both! He just doesn't want to anymore, because it's not fun. He's a pansy and he sucks. My biggest problem with the book, right there.

But it's a small one on the grand scale. Do I want this book on my shelf? Oh, tech yes, I do!

Best,

LA Knight