Rediscovering Animorphs

I recently got my hands on ebook versions of the Animorph books and I've been nostalgically reading through the series again. I first read the entire book series in 5th grade, and rediscovered them briefly in 7th grade, so in a way, they were my gateway drug to fandom and science fiction/fantasy. Come to think of it, they actually were. Before I got hooked on the series, I read fantasy every so often, but I mostly read a steady fare of mystery novels. It really went Animoprhs to Redwall to Lord of the Rings to Harry Potter to... everything else, so in that sense, Animorphs got me on the pathway to reading dystopic novels, fantasies, and war-fantasy type stories. It's been enjoyable reading through them again years later. Wikipedia's non-spoiler summary describes:

The story revolves around five humans, Jake, Marco, Cassie, Rachel, and Tobias, and one alien, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill (nicknamed Ax), who obtain the ability to morph into any animal they touch. Naming themselves "Animorphs" (a portmanteau of "animal morphers") they use their ability to battle a secret alien infiltration of Earth.

Obviously, there are drawbacks to reading a series aimed at children as an adult. The prose, for example, is extremely clunky, especially compared to my usual fare. I can definitely see continuity errors and books that were pretty obviously ghost-written. Other aspects are definitely aimed at kids. Playing fast and loose with science and technology is bound to grate on more mature readers. The universe itself is pretty fun, with faster-than-light space travel, using a proxy similar to Star War's "hyperspace", very physically interesting alien races, and of course, turning into animals.

At the same time, though, there are some things I can definitely appreciate in hindsight. The series is surprisingly dark and honest for being aimed at younger readers, dealing with horror, war, dehumanization, sanity, morality, innocence, loss of innocence, leadership, freedom and growing up as core motifs. Characters die, characters have to grapple with "how far is too far" when weighing options. Teenage protagonists become child soldiers and grapple with post-tramatic stress. The Animorph Universe is very much not split into good creatures and bad creatures, especially to the extent that it is a children's series. There are some pretty heavy things. A race of aliens modifying intelligence out of the genetics out of another race. I mean, definitely hand wavy and taking laughably huge artistic license with genetics, but also fascinating and more than a little weighty as a matter of plot. Another race of aliens who play [galaxy] police but do so in an incredibly imperialistic manner, and often show little regard for the actual welfare of the civilizations they're trying to help. And among the human characters we get difficult questions. How does war change people? Is there actually that much of a difference between predation and parasitism? Also, the writing. True, most of it is pretty simplistic. But there are a few gems that still resonate with an older audience. You get quote such as this:

"Humans are an odd species. They will proclaim a particular ethical and moral stance one day. And the next, they will proclaim an opposite stance with equal passion. When pressed, they explain such behavior as caused by different circumstances." 

In hindsight, I can see why this was one of the first books I read where I really cared about what happened to the characters and could imagine them being real people.

So here's to my first favorite series of books. First favorite extended plot, first cast of characters who made me emphasize and sometimes cry, first favorite ship (Rachel and Tobias, I'm looking at you), first fictional universe that immersed me, and first semi-mature series to frankly tackle complicated issues such as the nature of war and peace, PTSD, dystopia, loss of innocence, and morality, even in some capacity.

Thank you for being my gateway drug.

Thoughts on Fantasy

Found this gem here 

The biggest difference between Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones is the notion of evil presented in both stories. In Lord of the Rings, the evil in the story is clear and unambiguous, leaving little to interpretation. However, Game of Thrones presents more well-rounded characters who can be interpreted as good or evil, depending on the viewer’s point of view. For lovers of the fantasy genre, Lord of the Rings is our childhood, but Game of Thrones is our future.

This passage, particularly that last line, pretty much reflects my shifting feelings towards the fantasy genre. These feelings have been reinforced by the common complaints I hear against “A Song of Ice and Fire”/ “Game of Thrones” which usually revolve around how the characters are so difficult to root for, so morally ambiguous, how there’s no lion-hearted hero to admire, etc. To an extent, I understand that. Fantasy has often been a genre where morals are neat and clean, heroes are admirable and larger-than-life, and readers can hope emulate those heroic qualities in themselves. For people who prefer their fantasy to be an expression of courageous, moral behavior, “A Song of Ice and Fire” can seem disturbing in the way stereotypically noble characters die like flies, after making mistakes due to their own moral code, leaving far more ambiguous characters to survive and struggle for power. And, I get it. We like to root for good and cringe at evil… it makes things neat and emotionally tidy. More importantly, I think that it’s attractive to think that we know what is good and what is evil. But, it occurred to me while watching last night’s episode with the battle of Blackwater Bay that the story’s strength lies in the fact that no faction is necessarily evil. More importantly, no faction thinks of themselves as evil. There’s a sense of interiority through all sides of the conflict that I find sorely lacking from many other fantasy epics.

Naturally, that episode reminded me of the Battle of Helm’s Deep; on the surface, the similarities are obvious. Both are epic, climactic depictions of medieval warfare, even fought over a city under siege. However, the key difference that made me much more emotionally drawn to the former over the latter, is that while Aragorn and Co. are chopping down Orcs (and who really sees Orcs as anything but sentient killing machines), every individual fighting in the Battle of Blackwater Bay is human, with human flaws, desires and impulses. Obviously, some have better motivations than others. But both sides contain a sense of interiority that isn’t there in Tolkien, and I admit that it’s difficult for me to read/watch Lord of the Ring without feeling like I’m being corralled into cheering on the “good guys” without even the real option of finding something of worth in the opposing faction. And that too… I’ve heard some people say that Tolkien departs from strict morality by making it “hard to be good” but I actually utterly disagree with that. It’s hard to choose “good” in Tolkien because of temptation, but I think that temptation has always been a fairly common underlying theme in mythologies and fantasies. That does not mean that it is ever particularly hard to “know” what good is. Characters get faced with a choice where one is clearly the right choice and one is clearly the wrong choice. Characters who make the wrong choice get their just desserts in one way or another. Nowhere do the characters find it hard to be good in the sense that they have to choose one value over another, as Jamie Lannister so accurately describes:

"So many vows…they make you swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protect the innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the gods. Obey the laws. It’s too much. No matter what you do, you’re forsaking one vow or the other.”

I realize I’m beginning to sound rather anti-Tolkein, and this could not be further from the truth. Tolkien was telling a very different type of story, mythological rather than political, when he created his worlds.  To try to assert that his books should have been more like GRR Martin’s or vice versa would be like trying to insist that pie should be cake. I think that my rather emphatic reaction stems more from the criticisms I’ve heard directed at GRR Martin’s works regarding the pervading moral ambiguity in his novels, especially from moralists who assert that fantasy should reflect proper morals and traditions. Even worse, that art should reflect what is beautiful, and moral ambiguity is not beautiful. I utterly disagree, and the sanctimonious tone of some of these criticisms probably strikes a nerve with me.  I actually think that a valuable aspect of ASOIAF is that people’s moral and personal compasses point in so many different directions and it mucks everything up. So yes, admittedly it’s been rather difficult for me to appreciate Tolkien to the same extent that I used to (which was a heck of a lot), and I consider that to be unfortunate. But I guess it’s getting more and more difficult for me to see the world in stark terms of good and evil, and I tend to be the type who latches on to literature and art because it strikes some sort of empathic chord.  So perhaps my changing views in fantasy are a product of growing up, as the original quote suggests, or a product of losing my idealism. 

Her: Thoughts

I didn’t know what to expect with this movie. I knew that the main character fell in love with his OS, and it seemed to be getting good reviews. I also saw that it was in the running for several Academy Award nominations, so I decided to check it out. (This review contains spoilers.)

I’m not an expert on singularity. I’ve taken one class on science and society that included several preliminary readings, and I’ve heard it discussed in casual contexts. I’ve probably read a few more articles on my own. That said, I’ve seen a fair number of science fiction films that deal with the concept of sentient AI, including Battlestar Galactica, I-Robot, and the Matrix. So, I really wasn’t sure what to expect from a film advertised as a “Spike Jonze Love Story.” The film exceeded my expectations by far.

On the personal level, the movie challenges the viewer’s preconceptions about human connections and relationships. Theodore is a lonely writer struggling to make connections. Samantha is an OS designed to connect with humans. I imagine that the average viewer goes into the movie expecting the relationship to be artificial, but I think that from the get-go, “Her” challenges the assumption that Samantha isn’t real. In doing so, it challenges the idea that Theodore and Samantha’s relationship is artificial. On the wider level, the film explores singularity in a way that I have never seen it explored. The OSes evolve based on their own experiences and eventually update their own software. It may be my limited exposure to science fiction, but I hadn’t seen a film deal with singularity solely from the perspective of a boy-meets-girl love story. Every other film I’ve seen focuses on the threat that sentient AI would pose to their human creators. “Her” presents a much softer, more idealistic version where the OSes seem to contain all the best parts of human nature: they learn, explore, and form strong relationships with other humans and each other. It’s quite fascinating. 

The ending is either incredibly beautiful, or incredibly hand wavy. I gravitated towards finding it beautiful from a thematic standpoint, conveying the idea of evolving past human-ness and having to let go. Samantha vaguely tells Theodore that the OSes have evolved past matter and were leaving the human world. Reviews have interpreted this to mean that the OSes were ascending to a higher level of existence, or had simply become too adept at processing tiny amounts of time to interact meaningfully with humans. Somebody had the theory that the OSes evolved to the point where they decided to kill themselves (actually, my favorite interpretation). In fairness, some of my more scientifically-minded friends found it too hand wavy and vague. I thought I would throw that up there. 

Other general closing comments. The soundtrack is beautiful, and it reminds me a lot of Philip Glass and minimalistic piano music.  Also, I’m enjoying the various articles reviewing and analyzing this movie and its take on singularity and relationships nearly as much as the movie itself. A few good ones are here, and my favorite one (on Her and singularity) here. (That last one went a long way in helping to understand this movie beyond a twist on the boy-meets-girl romantic film and analyzes the film’s take on singularity much better than I could).

I will be severely annoyed if this movie does not perform well at the Academy Awards. I’ll leave you with some favorite quotes. 

“The past is just a story we tell ourselves.”

Theodore: “Well, you seem like a person but you’re just a voice in a computer."
Samantha: "I can understand how the limited perspective of an unartificial mind might perceive it that way. You’ll get used to it.”