If you ask most people to give an operational definition of Star Trek, they will probably say something about space and boldly going. I, however, am a child of the nineties. My Star Trek is irrevocably the Next Generation. For me, Star Trek is about well-meaning, intelligent people sitting around a table explaining the crap out of things. It only took us eight episodes, but we finally got there. The crew of La Sirena sat down in the mess hall and things got explained. Was that so hard?
Seriously: was any of this so hard? After the total disaster that was the last two episodes, this week's offering was thoroughly tolerable. Soji is aware that she is a synthetic lifeform and acting accordingly. She is longing for home, worried about her people, and more than a little annoyed that Doctor Jurati intended to murder her out of hand. Not, mind you, so annoyed as to forgo the obligatory "prick me, do I not bleed?" conversation with Doctor Jurati. This is, after all, Star Trek. Forgiveness is always possible, no matter how unearned. It is amazing how one basic detail (letting the character at the center of the entire plot be aware of who she is and what she wants and why anything that is happening to her is happening) can make the difference between a mildly enjoyable and an almost unwatchable television show. Doctor Jurati, for her part, has admitted that being evil was a bad move and has pinky-promised never to do it again (all it took was one murder!). Jean-Luc may or may not have admitted that he has been a bit of a jerk ("She's tried it Bruce Maddux's way; she's tried it my way; let's let her try it her way"). And Raffi was right! Raffi is always right. There has been a massive interstellar conspiracy this whole time.
Thousands of years ago, the Vorlons and the Shadows disagreed... no; wait; wrong TV show. Let me try again.
Thousands of years ago, a now dead civilization in what is currently Romulan space invented androids. Something Terrible noticed and destroyed them. Not the androids; the entire civilization. The Zhat Vash (it would be too much effort to learn how to actually spell those words) knows all of this and have devoted themselves to making sure no one ever again creates artificial intelligence true enough for Something Terrible to notice. It's unclear how the crew of La Sirena know all of this, too, but was it ever really clear how Data, Geordi and Wesley knew half of the things that they explained around a table? Honestly, the only thing that really bothers me about this explanation for literally everything that has happened so far is that it puts Star Trek on the "fantasy" side of my personal boundary between science fiction and fantasy.
To my mind, science fiction is about the future and fantasy is about the past relative to the characters. In my personal definition of science fiction, someone invents or discovers something that has never existed before in the world of the story and the characters proceed to explore the ramifications of that discovery. US Robotics and Mechanical Men builds quasi-people who obey three laws, the implications of which are not entirely understood, even by their authors. All of the communists leave Urras for Anarres to see see if they can actually make a go of it. Disillusioned by all of the ways humans can be brutal to each other, a radio astronomer announces Earth's existence to a universe characterized by soul-crushing scarcity. Fantasy (again: according to my personal definition) is about something that has been forgotten re-emerging from past. Forgetfulness, generally, has very negative consequences. Three thousand years ago, the Noldor let Sauron look over their shoulder as they made the Rings of Power (oops!). For a thousand generations, the Jedi held a Manichean view of how good and evil works in the universe and, as a result, completely misread their own prophecies. Aslan is an allegory for Jesus. This is obviously a porous and not terribly well-motivated definition, but it is my definition which is used by me. It leads to some non-traditional classifications. Star Wars is fantasy. Harry Potter is probably science fiction (Voldemort does take the theory of horcruxes to heretofore unexplored limits; also he appears to invent wizard fascism). Babylon 5 is complicated. It helps that, in my middle age, I don't actually care if something is science fiction or fantasy. I like robots, spaceships, and dragons -- the past and the future -- equally. I do care, however, about the themes that each represents. Science fiction is about looking forward and building a better (or worse) world out of our own potential. Fantasy is about restoring that which has been lost (the king at Minas Tirith; balance in the Force; whatever it is Aslan wanted that couldn't be accomplished without the aid of four middle class British children). Up until this point, I felt very confident that Star Trek was science fiction, which is to say: forward looking. Whatever went wrong was the result of mistakes made by the Federation. Whatever went right happened in spite of the choices made by the Federation. This story about an Eldritch Horror from the Deeps of Time that will consume all whose technological hubris proves too great is almost literally backward looking. Research into artificial intelligence was, apparently, outlawed, because the Romulans convinced everyone else to start looking over their shoulder before they leaped too far and suffered the consequences of someone else's mistake that no one can actually remember. I'm not saying that this story can't be enjoyable (ask me about Babylon 5; see if I ever stop talking). I might be saying that it isn't what I want from Star Trek.
Other things happened in this episode, nearly all of them on the Artifact. As usual: nothing that happened on the Artifact filled me with joy. Seven-of-Nine did show up. Turns out, bringing a gun to a gun fight is a good idea. Ultimately, she plugs herself into the Borg Queen's throne room (?) in an attempt to take direct control of the remaining fully assimilated Borg on the cube, organizing them into an armed revolt against Rizzo's tyrranical rule. It doesn't matter, though, because Rizzo has already decided to dump all of the Borg into space. Thankfully, the XBs have enough sense of self preservation to take down Rizzo on their own (or maybe Seven was controlling them, too, it's unclear, but they are XBs). As far as I can tell, all of this happened so that a) Seven-of-Nine can explain why using the Borg Queen's personal terminal to hijack the minds of the remaining drones is Very Unethical and b) Elnor (who is still on the Artifact, Daddy issues notwithstanding) can ask Seven "are you going to assimilate me now?" The answer is no. Seven passes the test and will go into the West and remain a poorly-justified bit of fan service. So far: nothing Borg-related in this series has made any sense or met any definition of the word "justified" as a story choice. Pour one out for Hugh.
Seriously: was any of this so hard? After the total disaster that was the last two episodes, this week's offering was thoroughly tolerable. Soji is aware that she is a synthetic lifeform and acting accordingly. She is longing for home, worried about her people, and more than a little annoyed that Doctor Jurati intended to murder her out of hand. Not, mind you, so annoyed as to forgo the obligatory "prick me, do I not bleed?" conversation with Doctor Jurati. This is, after all, Star Trek. Forgiveness is always possible, no matter how unearned. It is amazing how one basic detail (letting the character at the center of the entire plot be aware of who she is and what she wants and why anything that is happening to her is happening) can make the difference between a mildly enjoyable and an almost unwatchable television show. Doctor Jurati, for her part, has admitted that being evil was a bad move and has pinky-promised never to do it again (all it took was one murder!). Jean-Luc may or may not have admitted that he has been a bit of a jerk ("She's tried it Bruce Maddux's way; she's tried it my way; let's let her try it her way"). And Raffi was right! Raffi is always right. There has been a massive interstellar conspiracy this whole time.
Thousands of years ago, the Vorlons and the Shadows disagreed... no; wait; wrong TV show. Let me try again.
Thousands of years ago, a now dead civilization in what is currently Romulan space invented androids. Something Terrible noticed and destroyed them. Not the androids; the entire civilization. The Zhat Vash (it would be too much effort to learn how to actually spell those words) knows all of this and have devoted themselves to making sure no one ever again creates artificial intelligence true enough for Something Terrible to notice. It's unclear how the crew of La Sirena know all of this, too, but was it ever really clear how Data, Geordi and Wesley knew half of the things that they explained around a table? Honestly, the only thing that really bothers me about this explanation for literally everything that has happened so far is that it puts Star Trek on the "fantasy" side of my personal boundary between science fiction and fantasy.
To my mind, science fiction is about the future and fantasy is about the past relative to the characters. In my personal definition of science fiction, someone invents or discovers something that has never existed before in the world of the story and the characters proceed to explore the ramifications of that discovery. US Robotics and Mechanical Men builds quasi-people who obey three laws, the implications of which are not entirely understood, even by their authors. All of the communists leave Urras for Anarres to see see if they can actually make a go of it. Disillusioned by all of the ways humans can be brutal to each other, a radio astronomer announces Earth's existence to a universe characterized by soul-crushing scarcity. Fantasy (again: according to my personal definition) is about something that has been forgotten re-emerging from past. Forgetfulness, generally, has very negative consequences. Three thousand years ago, the Noldor let Sauron look over their shoulder as they made the Rings of Power (oops!). For a thousand generations, the Jedi held a Manichean view of how good and evil works in the universe and, as a result, completely misread their own prophecies. Aslan is an allegory for Jesus. This is obviously a porous and not terribly well-motivated definition, but it is my definition which is used by me. It leads to some non-traditional classifications. Star Wars is fantasy. Harry Potter is probably science fiction (Voldemort does take the theory of horcruxes to heretofore unexplored limits; also he appears to invent wizard fascism). Babylon 5 is complicated. It helps that, in my middle age, I don't actually care if something is science fiction or fantasy. I like robots, spaceships, and dragons -- the past and the future -- equally. I do care, however, about the themes that each represents. Science fiction is about looking forward and building a better (or worse) world out of our own potential. Fantasy is about restoring that which has been lost (the king at Minas Tirith; balance in the Force; whatever it is Aslan wanted that couldn't be accomplished without the aid of four middle class British children). Up until this point, I felt very confident that Star Trek was science fiction, which is to say: forward looking. Whatever went wrong was the result of mistakes made by the Federation. Whatever went right happened in spite of the choices made by the Federation. This story about an Eldritch Horror from the Deeps of Time that will consume all whose technological hubris proves too great is almost literally backward looking. Research into artificial intelligence was, apparently, outlawed, because the Romulans convinced everyone else to start looking over their shoulder before they leaped too far and suffered the consequences of someone else's mistake that no one can actually remember. I'm not saying that this story can't be enjoyable (ask me about Babylon 5; see if I ever stop talking). I might be saying that it isn't what I want from Star Trek.
Other things happened in this episode, nearly all of them on the Artifact. As usual: nothing that happened on the Artifact filled me with joy. Seven-of-Nine did show up. Turns out, bringing a gun to a gun fight is a good idea. Ultimately, she plugs herself into the Borg Queen's throne room (?) in an attempt to take direct control of the remaining fully assimilated Borg on the cube, organizing them into an armed revolt against Rizzo's tyrranical rule. It doesn't matter, though, because Rizzo has already decided to dump all of the Borg into space. Thankfully, the XBs have enough sense of self preservation to take down Rizzo on their own (or maybe Seven was controlling them, too, it's unclear, but they are XBs). As far as I can tell, all of this happened so that a) Seven-of-Nine can explain why using the Borg Queen's personal terminal to hijack the minds of the remaining drones is Very Unethical and b) Elnor (who is still on the Artifact, Daddy issues notwithstanding) can ask Seven "are you going to assimilate me now?" The answer is no. Seven passes the test and will go into the West and remain a poorly-justified bit of fan service. So far: nothing Borg-related in this series has made any sense or met any definition of the word "justified" as a story choice. Pour one out for Hugh.
No comments:
Post a Comment