James McGrath of the blog Exploring Our Matrix recently brought an item to my attention from i09, a post by Charlie Jane Anders titled “Big Theological Questions that Science Fiction Should Answer.” The essay notes that science fiction frequently addresses theological questions, but suggests a different series of questions that are largely unexplored. This piece makes for a companion with another essay at the site titled “The 7 Deadly Sins of Religion in Science Fiction,” which while very good, should have, in my opinion, been expanded with the addition of number “8: Simplistic religion-bashing in the name of science.”
These items are of interest for several reasons. First, a recent press release from the University of Valencia argued that science fiction is not being utilized as a tool to foster student interest in the sciences. (See i09s discussion on this here.) Second, I would build on this and argue that science fiction can and should be drawn upon by theologians as a tool for theological and cultural reflection. I will argue precisely this in a 2013 journal commentary for Multnomah University in an edition dealing with gender. There I will draw upon an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation titled “The Host,” in which Dr. Beverly Crusher falls in love with a humanoid alien, Odan, who later becomes deathly ill. Dr. Crusher comes to discover that the real Odan is a small, slug-like creature who exists in symbiotic fashion within a humanoid host. Dr. Crusher wrestles with and ultimately comes to accept this situation, until Odan is transplanted into the a female host, making it impossible for Crusher to reconcile this with her ideas on gender and sexuality. In my essay commentary I will argue that since evangelical theologians believe that divine revelation takes place as the transcendent communicates through cultures, that science fiction, which postulates alternative possibilities within cultures and a distancing process which enables fresh thought on difficult issues, this means that the science fiction genre provides unique opportunities for theological reflection.
The two posts in i09 referenced above that suggest a relationship between theology and science fiction connect with my own thinking on the issues, and I suggest that science fiction not only tackle previously neglected issues in theology, but that theologians also consider science fiction as a genre in which to wrestle in fresh ways with things like origins mythology, conservative theological assumptions about humanity being “alone in the universe,” the incarnation, and the atonement.

This is a volume I’ve been looking forward to. I enjoyed Emily McAvan’s thesis, summarized in an issue of the Journal of Religion and Popular Culture, and have referenced it in this blog’s About TheoFantastique page. MacAvan is one of a number of exciting women scholars working in religion and pop culture, such as Danielle Kirby and her forthcoming volume Fantasy and Belief: Alternative Religions, Popular Narratives, and Digital Cultures (Equinox Publishing, 2013). The Postmodern Sacred: Popular Culture Spirituality in the Science Fiction, Fantasy and Urban Fantasy Genres published by McFarland is described online:
From The Matrix and Harry Potter to Stargate SG:1 and The X-Files, recent science fiction and fantasy offerings both reflect and produce a sense of the religious. This thoughtful volume examines this pop-culture spirituality, or “postmodern sacred,” showing how consumers use the symbols contained in explicitly “unreal” texts to gain a second-hand experience of transcendence and belief. Topics include how media technologies like CGI have blurred the lines between real and unreal, the polytheisms of Buffy and Xena, the New Age Gnosticism of The DaVinci Code, the Islamic “Other” and science fiction’s response to 9/11, and the Christian Right and popular culture. Today’s pervasive, saturated media culture, this work shows, has utterly collapsed the sacred/profane binary, so that popular culture is not only powerfully shaped by the discourses of religion, but also shapes how the religious appears and is experienced in the contemporary world.

We can run, but we can’t hide. Eventually we will meet our Doom, individually as well as collectively. And there are a variety of ways in which it might happen, with some more plausible than others. Many believe that The End will come in December of this year in keeping with certain interpretations of an ancient Mayan calendar system. Others predict it will come by way of eco-catastrophe, thermonuclear war or global financial collapse.
But we might as well have fun as we wait for Doom to tap us on the shoulder, right? And with that I introduce you to the new volume The Coffee Table Book of Doom (Plume, 2012). This is an entertaining and well done volume, that also includes a lot of serious material that can depress the reader when reminded that, short of transcendent intervention, one of the Doom scenarios presented in the volume will eventually play out. The promotional material with the book raises related questions:
* Could an alien invasion really happen?
* Is every creature on Earth becoming female, leading to the end of mankind?
* Is the human gene pool getting weaker?
* Can earthquakes start in outer space?
* What should you pack in your GOOD (Get Out of Dodge) bags?
Fully illustrated in two-color, THE COFFEE TABLE BOOK OF DOOM warns us that it’s not just the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse we have to worry about. This tongue-in-cheek informational book combines fascinating and often alarming facts with each chapter committed to the different ways of how mankind as we know it will come to a grisly end..
Whether we’re baked, fried, frozen or sucked dry…the end is near. We might as well laugh about it.
The popularity of programs like The Walking Dead and Doomsday Preppers remind us that apocalypticism is constantly on our minds. The Coffee Table Book of Doom is a nice contribution to this pop culture niche that is also a growing industry. It is also a book that enables us to have fun and whistle during our stroll through the graveyard.

Theology and the Undead (Pickwick Publications) is now available for purchase in digital form for Kindle, MAC and PC through Amazon.com, and in print edition. See the publisher’s website for more information. This is a unique volume that explores various facets of how monsters can provide for theological reflection. It makes the perfect Halloween pumpkin stuffer this holiday season for those interested in monster studies and other disciplines including theology, religious studies, motion pictures, television, literature, graphic novels and comics.



I will be sitting on a panel and contributing to the topic via religion and zombies. For further background see my previous post.

In a recent film review of the new science fiction film Looper, James Pinkerton raised important questions related to science fiction and our utopian vision. In his essay “What ‘Looper’ tells us about the American vision,” Pinkerton opens his piece with the following thought provoking paragraph:
Which science-fiction scenario better describes the future: “Star Trek” or “Blade Runner”? That is, can we look forward to the utopian vista of “Star Trek,” in which we humans have solved the problems of earth, leaving the rest of the universe for us to explore? Or must we dread the smoggy dystopia of “Blade Runner,” in which a brutal world is divided starkly between the huddled poor and the rich luxuriating in their guarded enclaves?
This might be a curious question to raise in what is ostensibly a film review for Looper, but the questions are worthwhile. Star Trek‘s original series recently celebrated its 46th anniversary, and Star Trek: The Next Generation celebrated its 25th. It’s influence continues to be felt, not only by Star Trek fans or in the science fiction subculture, but also in broader popular culture. One aspect of its continuing appeal comes with its utopian vision for humanity’s future. Birthed in the late 1960s when the counterculture hoped for a better way forward beyond the challenges of the times, Gene Roddenberry created a fictional world of the 23rd century wherein human beings moved beyond the challenges of racism, sexism, and war (and even religion), to unite human beings as they looked forward to their exploration of the universe. Earth’s united humanity joined with alien races as part of the United Federation of Planets, which postulated a technological utopia which has been carried through in each incarnation in the Star Trek franchise whether film or television.
This utopian vision was a part of Roddenberry’s own hopes for humanity, which sprang from his Secular Humanism. On more than one occasion Roddenberry would articulate his vision in words like this:
“I believe in humanity. We are an incredible species. We’re still just a child creature, we’re still being nasty to each other. And all children go through those phases. We’re growing up, we’re moving into adolescence now. When we grow up — man, we’re going to be something!”
This was Roddenberry’s dream, and one that human beings share across cultures. It has resonated so strongly with individuals that the secular dreams of Roddenberry became the ethic of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination, which has since ironically functioned in a religious sense for not a few Star Trek fans.
Roddenberry’s franchise may be the best example of science fiction’s articulation of the utopian dream. But almost fifty years since since Roddenberry’s vision came to the small screen should it still be viewed as a realistic goal and a prediction for what our future society will look like, whether nationally or internationally? Here an interesting parallel may be found in our current political debates with promises of hope and change tempered by requests for more time, with alternatives presented in the suggestion that we are on the wrong course. Is humanity working toward the Roddenberry utopia with more time needed to realize this dream, or are we on the wrong track living in dystopia perhaps with no possibility of societal redemption?
It is at this juncture that Pinkerton suggests that perhaps Blade Runner is a more realistic depiction of human society for the future. He writes,
But there’s still that “Star Trek” vs. “Blade Runner” business. If it’s true what they say–that sci-fi is as much a meditation on the present as a projection into the future–can we then deduce anything about our society from this particular film?
Pinkerton then sketches the historical developments since Roddenberry first shared his optimistic humanist vision. He notes that the national optimism in certain segments of American society of the late 1960s soon gave way to darker realities. As a result, “the big collective vision of Roddenberry seems, now, to be as far away as Alpha Centauri.”
In contrast with Roddenberry’s optimism, Pinkerton introduces the dark science fiction vision of Philip K. Dick. The dystopian influence of the film Blade Runner is still felt throughout science fiction as evident in the past from films like Terminator, to more recent efforts such as the remake of Total Recall to the new film Looper. Pinkerton contrasts the competing visions of these science fiction writers:
If Roddenberry stood for optimism, Dick stood for pessimism. To Roddenberry, the future was gleaming and beckoning; to Dick, the future was all going to be just a huge misunderstanding, if not an outright evil conspiracy. The protagonists in Dick’s stories may go to space, but if they come back at all, they come back haunted, unsure of such a basic question as their own identity.
As I read Pinkerton’s essay I was struck by the seeming failure of Roddenberry’s vision. Sure, we can argue that we just need more time, and given more education, more technology, more…you fill in the blanks, human beings can and will achieve something similar to Roddenberry’s dream. After all, he did place it in the 23rd century, which gives us roughly two hundred more years to work things out. But skeptics look at the past history of humanity, with its frequent predictions of utopia tempered by the reality of dystopia, and are inclined to doubt our future prospects. It would seem that perhaps Dick’s dark and pessimistic vision is the more accurate predictor of not only the future, but our present state of affairs.
Even so, Pinkerton acknowledges that thousands of people are still animated by Roddenberry’s utopian vision and still hold out hope that his ideals will be realized. The differing assessments of humanity’s future by Roddenberry and Dick represent two competing models from these prophets of science fiction.

Hotel Transylvania debuted in theaters last night, and may be the leading film in the box office this weekend. It turns in an impressive performance that can be enjoyed by children and adults alike.
Hotel Transylvania is the latest animated film produced by Sony. It tells the story of Dracula who creates a seemingly secluded hotel for monsters designed to protect them from the hatred and destructiveness of human beings toward his kind, and particularly toward his young daughter. As the story develops, we learn that years ago Dracula’s wife was killed by an angry mob of humans. As a result, Dracula conceives of the hotel idea primarily to protect his daughter, and to surround her with their monstrous kind and to provide the seclusion and defensiveness provided by a haunted forest and zombie filled cemetery on the perimeter. Of course the best plans of Dracula are thwarted, which takes place when a young human traveler, Jonathan, stumbles across the hotel and unwittingly falls in love with Dracula’s daughter Mavis, who also falls for him. Dracula does his best to discourage Jonathan and his daughter, but eventually his monstrous hotel guests discover the presence of an allegedly dangerous human in their midst, which disturbs not only Dracula’s plans for his hotel, but also for his daughter’s budding romance and desires for freedom outside the hotel.
Hotel Transylvania is poised to do well with movie audiences. Somewhat surprisingly, even opening night at the late showing included the presence of many parents with young children, whose laughter throughout the film indicated that it was well received. The monster characters are well designed, with a representation that includes stylized (and copyright infringement avoiding) variations of Universal Studios classic creatures including not only Dracula, but also Frankenstein, the mummy, the wolfman, the invisible man, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon. In addition to these monsters we also see other monsters from the silver screen and popular culture such as Bigfoot. The presence of this vast array of monsters, and a scene where the creatures pursue Jonathan into a human town where a monster festival is going on filled with hundreds of “monster geeks,” provides evidence that monsters have moved beyond the monster kid and monster geek subculture of previous generations, to become mainstream pop culture icons. Classic monster fans will be pleased to see variations of the creatures that first haunted the silver screen almost a hundred years ago are still delighting audiences today.
There was some concern about Adam Sandler’s connection to this film prior to its release, who serves as executive producer, and voices Dracula. The actor has seen a number of flops at the box office in his live action films, but his voice characterizations strike the right chord, and to whatever extent he was involved in the creative process in contributing to this film he has found formula for animated success with this film.
I highly recommend Hotel Transylvania as a great holiday film in connection with Halloween, and as a great tribute to monster culture and contribution to good animated films as well.