Not for the faint of art. |
Complex Numbers A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number. The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi. Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary. Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty. |
You're damn right I have something to say about this. For starters, "sci-fi" is a shitty abbreviation (though not as shitty as SyFy). Mostly because the second "i" is pronounced completely differently. What do we talk about when we talk about science fiction? Is it our hope for the future, or our fear of creating the very thing that will destroy us? If the most influential sci-fi books of all time are any indication, the answer is both. I see science fiction (which I will helpfully abbreviate as SF to avoid the shitty shortening) as more than either of those things, but okay. The most influential sci-fi books of all time have shaped not just science fiction and its myriad sub-genres, but horror, fantasy, and manga, as well. Nowhere in this article do I see who gets to define "most influential." So I'm going to assume it's the opinion of one person, or perhaps a committee. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (1818) Widely regarded as the grandmother of all sci-fi novels, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein not only laid the foundation for science fiction as an exploration of what happens when Man plays God, but also asked the timeless question: what is it that makes us human? Well, the list starts off well enough. I consider it the first SF book, but I think a lot of people who talk about it miss the point. We had to read it in engineering school and were supposed to come to the conclusion of "don't 'play god.'" Ever the contrarian, I interpreted it as "If you must play god, get it right." Blake, or the Huts of America by Martin R. Delany (1859-1862) Having never read this one, I have no opinion - except that since I've never even heard of it, and I've been consuming SF for my entire life, I have to doubt the "influential" label. Perhaps it should be. Perhaps not. Maybe I'll read it one day and judge for myself -- taking the historical context into account, of course. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne (1869) Jules Verne’s novels predicted many modern technologies, from solar-powered space flight to Zoom, but Captain Nemo’s Nautilus is a particular stand-out. It's been a very long time since I read this one, and I have no doubt of its influence, but science fiction doesn't "predict." It warns. Or, alternatively, it plants the seeds of ideas that later come to fruition. In other words, it can be a self-fulfilling prophecy, or a blueprint, like when they deliberately made flip-phones to look like the old-style Star Trek communicators. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (1886) Victor Frankenstein might be the first hubristic scientist in literary history, but the trials and tribulations of Robert Louis Stevenson’s well-meaning Dr. Jekyll would be rehashed for years to come as the archetypal “mad scientist.” No argument on this one. The Time Machine by H.G. Wells (1895) Time travel. Human evolution. Post-apocalyptic visions of Earth. Cli-fi (climate fiction). H.G. Wells’s The Time Machine has all of these sci-fi staples and more. Or this one, except that hopefully the author of this article is now rubbing their face because I just smacked them for "Cli-Fi." Of One Blood, or The Hidden Self by Pauline Hopkins (1902-1903) Pauline Hopkins’s Of One Blood follows Reuel, a Harvard-educated mixed-race man who passes for white, who uncovers mind-blowing truths about Africa’s history — and its present — when he stumbles upon a technologically advanced underground civilization beneath an archeological dig site in Ethiopia. Another one I never even heard of. I get the impression that the compiler of this list wanted to be "inclusive." That's great, to be inclusive. But in order to be influential, something has to actually have, you know, influence. Perhaps the book is great and was simply overlooked due to *ism, and that should absolutely be rectified in some way, but not by retroactively calling something "influential." A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs (1912) Whether you love ’em or hate ’em, pulpy adventures have had a strong presence in the sci-fi world for more than a century. Tarzan creator Edgar Rice Burroughs also penned this novel, the first of many 11 books about his fictional “Uncle Jack,” AKA John Carter of Mars. This one, I read as a kid. More recently, I read it as an adult upon the 100th anniversary of its publication and my gods, the writing was horrible. But I can't deny he had Ideas. I'd only vaguely classify it as science fiction, though. Still, good or bad, it's undeniable that the book was influential. We wouldn't have Star Wars without it -- hell, Lucas lifted parts of it whole-cloth. Nor would we have Superman, at least not as we know the character. As an aside, it's a real shame the movie (John Carter) was a critical and audience flop. I don't think Disney pushed hard enough on the history of the story when marketing it. People thought it was ripping off Star Wars and Superman and the like, when the reality is precisely the opposite. We by Yevgeny Zamyatin (1924) Yevgeny Zamyatin’s We appeared in print in English 30 years before the original Russian version was published. One of the first dystopian novels, We introduces readers to the One State: a unified world government that demands conformity of its citizens, who live and work in glass buildings, and have numbers instead of names. From the description, this definitely falls into the "warning" category, though I'm pretty sure some governments and/or businesses would put it in the "blueprint" category. Again, never even heard of it, though. Metropolis by Thea von Harbou (1925) Existential dread over automation might have begun with the Luddites in the early 19th century, but Thea von Harbou dragged their fears into the modern age with her 1925 novel. The movie made from this one is undeniably a classic, and I've never read the book. But since the book inspired the movie, I'm going to go ahead and agree with the "influential" label. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (1932) Aldous Huxley’s best-known novel takes place in a far-future version of London, one marked by free love, mandatory drug consumption, and the total destruction of the nuclear family. No way can I disagree with this one. The Collected Stories of Arthur C. Clarke by Arthur C. Clarke (1937-1999) It’s hard to imagine any writer working to reconcile religion and science with more intent than Arthur C. Clarke. They cannot, and should not, be reconciled... but that doesn't mean I don't respect Clarke as an author. But if I did have to choose one of his works for this list, it wouldn't be the collection. Nor would it be 2001. Or even the distressing Childhood's End. No, it would be an article he wrote in 1945 proposing geosynchronous satellites. Again, not a prediction or a prophecy, but a blueprint, one that absolutely transformed the world as we knew it. It's also not a "book," so it doesn't really belong on this list, but this is my blog so I note it because I can. The Complete Robot by Isaac Asimov (1939-1977) It’s hard to pick just one of Isaac Asimov’s books to include on this list, but the ubiquitousness of his Three Laws gives The Complete Robot a positronic leg up on its competition. All due respect to Asimov -- he's actually ahead of Clarke on my personal list of favorite SF authors -- but his "robot" stories don't really have much of a bearing on the realities of AI. Shadow Over Mars by Leigh Brackett (1944) Also published as The Nemesis from Terra, this debut novel from the “Queen of the Space Opera” follows Rick Urquhart... Shadow over Mars is pulpy, it’s prototypical, and it’s largely overlooked. Again, it may be a freakin' masterpiece, but if it's "overlooked," it's not "influential." Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell (1949) This one is so influential that everyone knows it, even if they haven’t read it. Yeah, we know. Astro Boy by Osamu Tezuka (1952-1968) Astro Boy may not have been the first work of literature to introduce robots with feelings, but it’s one of the most influential by far. I keep meaning to read these, but I never seem to get around to it. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (1953) “It was a pleasure to burn.” It’s one of the best-known first lines in literature, and it comes from a novel that’s on par with Nineteen Eighty-Four, at least as far as being misinterpreted goes. No one is arguing that Bradbury wasn't an excellent writer, or that this wasn't a great book, but influential? Meh. Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein (1959) Space wars and buglike aliens still abound in sci-fi today, thanks in large part to Robert A. Heinlein’s Starship Troopers. And finally we get to my actual favorite SF author -- with one of his worst books. No. Pick Stranger in a Strange Land instead. A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr. (1959) Let’s talk apocalypse and what comes after. You can’t throw a rock without hitting a post-apocalyptic story these days. Okay, no argument here either. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle (1962) If science fiction has a gateway drug, A Wrinkle in Time is it. Writing for Early Bird Books, Molly Reiniger points out that Madeleine L’Engle’s novel for children “created the space, especially for girls, to be interested in science fiction and fantasy, and to go on to be dedicated readers and writers of the genre.” Or here. The movie sucked ass, though. Dune by Frank Herbert (1965) It’s impossible to talk about the most influential sci-fi books of all time without talking about Dune. No, it really isn't. Well, okay, it is, but that doesn't mean I have to actually like political SF as a subgenre. The universe he created has the lasting power to capture the imagination, though, for sure. Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany (1966) Although it’s not Delany’s best-known work — that honor belongs to 1975’s Dhalgren — Babel-17 was highly influential upon its release for its use of, and play with, language. Delany (this Delany, not the unrelated one way up there near the top) is one of those intellectual SF writers whose books will probably never be made into movies -- but he had an undeniable influence on other SF writers. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick (1968) A century and a half after Mary Shelley cracked open the question of what makes us human, Philip K. Dick dumped that can of worms out onto the page to create what remains one of the most influential sci-fi novels ever written. I could write an entire thesis comparing and contrasting Blade Runner with Frankenstein... but not today. The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin (1969) I would hope that, by this point in this list, I’ve put any arguments about the “sudden” politicization of science fiction to rest. If you’re still unconvinced, check out Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness... You know, one of the great things about science fiction isn't the part about imagining possible future technologies, but about challenging social norms, and I agree that no one did that better than Le Guin. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut (1969) Another sci-fi novel with broad crossover appeal, Slaughterhouse-Five stands out for its depiction of post-traumatic stress disorder as time travel. As I recall, Vonnegut objected strenuously to being called an SF writer. He's no longer with us, so he can't argue about it any more... but he was an SF writer. So it goes. Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang by Kate Wilhelm (1976) Kate Wilhelm’s Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang imagines a post-apocalyptic future in which humanity has attempted to circumvent rampant infertility through a dedicated cloning program. No. The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (1979-1992) Whether you’re cheeky enough to call a five-book series — six, if you count Eoin Colfer’s And Another Thing… — a “trilogy,” base an entire series around the adventures of one bumbling Englishman who stumbles unawares into being the last living Earth-man, or make the Earth’s destroyers into aliens who write poetry so bad it literally hurts, nobody does sci-fi comedy quite like Douglas Adams. Yes. Daughters of a Coral Dawn by Katherine V. Forrest (1984) It’s a story reminiscent of Laura Lam’s Goldilocks: a group of women set out from Earth to colonize a distant planet, away from patriarchal influence and persecution... An early work of lesbian sci-fi that gave way to a Lambda Literary Award–winning sequel, Daughters of a Coral Dawn is an oft-overlooked classic in the genre. Again, if it's "oft-overlooked," I find it hard to reconcile that with "influential." I've never read it and it may be a shining example of the writer's craft, but that doesn't earn it a spot on this list. Okay, I'm going to go ahead and skip over some now. You can read the full list at the link. Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (1986-1987) If you’re a fan of Invincible, The Boys, or any other series that depicts superheroes as, well, not so super, you have Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’s Watchmen to thank. I'm agreeing with this one -- conditionally. I've said before that comic book superheroes aren't strictly SF. That's not a value judgement -- I love comics -- just one of categorization. But I'm allowing this one because it does have significant SF elements. And also because it's still my second-favorite graphic novel of all time, after Sandman, which is most definitely not SF. And I'm going to stop there. The list is roughly in chronological order, and anything published after Watchmen simply hasn't had enough time to earn the label "influential." Great? Maybe. Popular? Sometimes. Well-written? Not gonna argue. And some of the later books listed, I've read and greatly enjoyed, and certainly some of them have planted the seeds for other ideas -- but whether those seeds bear fruit, or wither and die like clothing fads, remains to be seen. Meanwhile, I do like lists of this sort, because, yes, I've found some books I now want to read, and it's also nice to see some of my own choices made the cut. |