dystopia

A dystopia is, by convention, set in the near future. Science fiction elements are downplayed. Dystopic authors prefer to emphasise the ways in which modern or near-future technologies can be used to oppress, or the ways in which our modern power structures can turn in on themselves, directing power into cutting through the very minds and souls of individuals. Dystopias are, technically speaking, satires; in form, they parody utopian literature, and their content represents a social criticism – but most people find them more disturbing than funny.

Here are some classic dystopia novels I've read:

We by Yevgeny Zamyatin. Written in 1924, We follows the actions of D-503, citizen of the United State, builder of the Integral — an evangelical invasion rocket which will bring human social civilization to extraterrestrial barbarians. D— is a mathematician and poet who comes to realize that there is a better world to be had outside the boundaries of the glass cities with which he is all too familiar.

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Published in 1932, but set hundreds of years in the future, where humans are produced in factory crèches by means of ectogenesis. The ultimate critique to consumerism and conformity, Brave New World is one of the few dystopia novels which remains significant today.

Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell. Set in the "near future" of 1984 (the story was written in 1948), the story follows the attempts of Party member Winston Smith as he seeks some way to escape from an inescapable, corrupt oligarchy which controls its population with martial law. Some people like to tell themselves it's no longer significant, but they're kidding themselves; it's frightening how relevant this piece remains even in the 21st Century (qv "War on Terrorism").

The Giver by Lois Lowry. Banned by the Nova Scotia Public Library system, The Giver is the tale of one boy's encounter with the Giver, a telepathic being who serves as the receptacle of a community's collective unconscious awareness of pain.

Anthem by Ayn Rand. Okay, okay, I know what you're thinking: "Sheesh, Ayn Rand again." But putting aside the fact that most of her stuff is incredibly lame, Anthem is pretty good as far as dystopias go. It was written in 1937, and documents the awakening of Equality 7-2521, and his blasphemy against the ancient Dark Age society with which he is cursed.

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. Fifteen year old Alex likes to go to the moloko bars, drink milk liberally laced with cocaine, and then he and his gang-mates enjoy a rousing night of rape, theft, and assault; until one night, it culminates in murder, and Alex is caught. Written in 1962, A Clockwork Orange was actually published with two different endings – an "American" ending and a "British" ending. As I recollect, it is the American ending with which you will be familiar if you saw the movie. The American ending is by far the darker of the two. Actually, the British ending includes the American ending, but goes on further, describing how, although the State's "therapy" was undone, Alex grows out of his violent ways, eventually finding them trite.

Farenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. In the not-so-distant future (from 1953 when the book was first published), "firemen" don't put out fires (because everything is made flame-proof) – rather, they are sent to burn stashes of books which may be found in someone's possession.

Here are some great dystopia movies that I've seen, as well as some that are perhaps not quite as amazing.

The Postman starring Kevin Costner. This one kinda blends the distinction between post-apocalyptic and dystopia, but I would tend to lump it with the latter. By a strange coincidence, I ended up watching this movie twice in a row one night. narzos tells me it's based on a novel by David Brin that's better than the movie.

The Running Man starring Arnold Schwartzenegger, based on a story by Stephen King. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but this was actually the best thing I ever saw on TBS. It's pretty funny, too.

The Handmaid's Tale, based on a novel by Margaret Atwood. This movie takes a stab at the Religious Right and blind, unthinking "Americanism." I've never actually read the book, though the movie was pretty good.

Gattaca starring Ethan Hawk and Uma Thurman. Although the pace of the film may be a little slow for some viewers, I think it's one of the best movies ever. It describes a society driven by discrimination against those who aren't genetically engineered.

Brazil, by Terry Gilliam. The masterpiece of dystopia cinema. Funny, scary, weird. See it. Love it.

And of course, this writeup wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention the all-time ultimate dystopia TV drama:

The Prisoner, starring Patrick McGoohan as #6. "I am not a number; I'm a free man!"

On a related note, perhaps I should mention Aeon Flux here. I'm not quite sure if it counts, but it's a great series and people should watch at least some of it anyway.

Feel free to /msg me ("/msg ctf" will work) with comments or suggestions!

neil: You're right, negative utopia isn't a contradiction; in fact, dystopias (literally, "bad places") are sometimes referred to as "negative utopias."

Though it generally is taken in the positive sense, ``utopia'' does not have a necessary positive connotation. Etymologically speaking, ``utopia'' means ``nowhere'' or ``not a place''. The general positive connotation comes from Sir Thomas More's book. Thus ``negative utopia'' is not a contradictio in adjecto.

Consider that 1984 was written with George Orwell being acutely aware of propaganda, austerity and authoritarianism in wartime Britain, and given his experience of Britain's class system and exercise of power in Burma (and Eton) he didn't believe that that democracy was necessary going to be guaranteed in a benignly socialist welfare state.

Later, The Road to Serfdom presented the idea that Beveridge-styled socialism would lead to dictatorship, perhaps coloured by Friedrich Von Hayek's own unpleasant witness of Austria's fall to fascism. Fortunately we have the hindsight to know that the nationalisation of coal wasn't a footstep away from the gulag.

Another example was written by the economists Peter Jay and Andrew Steward in 1987. In the book Apocalypse 2000: Economic Breakdown and the Suicide of Society, by now the European Union, which has subsumed the sovereignty of its member states, is run by a neo-fascist movement which took power on the back of rising unemployment and ruinous interest rates, while a former televangelist rules a crime-ridden United States paralysed by the drug wars. In fact even before pastel colour schemes went out of fashion, weak monetary policy, Communism, street crime in America and the Moral Majority were already on their way out, and terrorist groups dedicated to European federalism never really took off.

With people afraid of a nuclear holocaust, several films and stories came out in the 1980s showing what kind of uncomfortable and brutish society would emerge from the radioactive ashes. Some like Terminator, Mad Max and Salute of the Jugger just use the backdrop of an apocalyptic society to ensure the script would be full of violent characters free from the confines of civil society, instead of boring people we typically associate with real life. But the scariest dystopia came in Barry Hindes portrayal of a nuclear devastated Britain in Threads, where we learn in clinical detail that the survivors in a post-apocalyptic world aren't likely to be brawny men on motorbikes, but sickly, starving Yorkies fighting over ratmeat. The sheer gritty realism of Threads, knowing that this was not science fiction but only 40 minutes away from science fact, was what gave a generation of young Brits nightmares.

Warday by James Kunetka and Whitley Strieber was set in a much less devastated America of 1993, where the only cities that were nuked in a limited nuclear exchange five years previously were New York, Washington DC and for some odd reason San Antonio. However the whole fabric of American society has changed, as a pair of explorers discovered. California for all intents and purposes has declared independence, and resembles some kind of large gated community.

On the other hand, others in the 1980s were more afraid of being red than dead. We had the images of a Soviet- occupied America in the television mini-series Amerika, where life in the mid west plains was even more bland and benign under the Russkie jackboot. Red Dawn was just a bloody mess in more ways than one when a teenage flick meets a war movie with a survivalist theme, juxtaposed (again) in the mid west. And the other notable genre to come out of the 1980s - the Role Playing Game - also explored post-apocalyptic themes, with Gamma World and The Price of Freedom.

Herge created the dystopic East European republic of Borduria for use in a few of his Tintin comics. In King Oktar's Sceptre, written before the Second World War, Borduria was some kind of fascist state similar to pre-war Romania or Hungary, run by the 'Iron Guard' (just like in Romania) which plotted to take over its neighbour, the democratic kingdom of Sylvania. Later Tintin visited Borduria in The Calculus Affair where like many Eastern European countries Borduria had became Communist, ruled by a Stalinesque tyrant whose moustache is used as an omnipresent symbol of power, sported on the country's flag, car radiators and other ridiculous places.

Even more ghastly Eastern European dystopias include Molvania, illustrated in a parody travel guide Molvania - A Land Untouched by Modern Dentistry (see my write-up), and Elbonia, the mud-exporting former Soviet satellite that Dilbert's boss wants to do business with.

The Two Ronnies also contributed to this genre with a misogynistic slapstick bent, who shortly after Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister made a mini-series about life in an England dominated by women called The Worm that Turned. Some may remember the dominatrix secret police, the state emblem consisting of a pair of Union Jack panties (called the Union Jill) and Ronnie Corbett mistaking a Welsh accent with a Pakistani one as he tries to flee to Wales.

But it can be fun, and comforting, to read stories of dystopias that failed to materialise.

Orwellian Dystopias are based upon deprivation of the public to prevent them from having the resources to fight the powers that be. Be they fascist or socialist in nature, control is enforced by treating the populace like rats in a skinner box, isolated and controlled. There is usually an elite "inner circle", such as the real-life Nomenklatura that existed in the Soviet Union. Such Dystopias channel people's energies into surviving daily life and avoiding trouble with the law.

A Huxlerian Dystopia is one in which creature comforts are abundant, and used to lull the populace into complacency. Bread and Circuses divert the populace's attention away from the mechanism of government. Such a society treats people like birds in gilded cages, pampered without the ability to influence the direction of their lives. Such Dystopias channel people's energies into experiencing as much hedonistic pleasure and acquiring material goods as possible to divert their attention from the fact that their lives are as limited in scope as those living in a concrete cubicle.

The common ground between the two (and every Dystopia) is that those in power are in complete control, keep the people ignorant about the true nature of their society, and punish those who divert from the norm severely.

I believe current American society is rapidly becoming a Huxlerian Dystopia. Our leaders (from both sides of the fence) lie blatantly to us, our "news" organizations force us to fixate on the ridiculous instead of the vital, and we are forced to focus more on our credit card interest rates and how big an SUV we can afford than on the state of our society.