While it is no secret that there is a correlation between fiction and current events, it never occurs to certain readers that their favorite books can be more than a mirror of their own world. Such works reach deep within and touch something inside them, spurring a desire to change the landscape and make a difference for the better. Such was the reaction of the literary world when dystopian literature first came over the horizon. While once regarded as a small, even unremarkable genre, the 21st century has been incredibly kind to books like The Hunger Games, Divergent, and more; not just in book sales, but in cultural influence as well. Just as readers were scared straight by the bleak ending of George Orwell’s 1984, modern teens look up to Katniss Everdeen and the dire situation she was forced to overcome. The premise of these books may seem unbelievable at first glance, but their themes—an overpowered government, division between social groups, struggling to provide—are all too real. The power of dystopian novels is in their ability to accurately mirror, and sometimes predict, the strife experienced in our government and culture, making them one of the most powerful genres in the history of literature.
The genre’s beginnings can be traced all the way back to the beginning of the 20th century—even then, their power over the reader was undeniable. “Dystopia” was derived from the Ancient Greek word meaning “dark place,” but most literature lovers did not become familiar with the term until roughly 1895, as Michael Cart of Booklist recalls how “the dystopian novel, a literary form that imagines (sometimes satirically, sometimes somberly) a future world made even worse than the present one-dates back to 1895 and H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine” (34). Wells imagined a near prehistoric future awaited humankind—a strong message in a time where technological advancement was slowly, but surely on the upswing. Perhaps this is why, according to Cart, younger audiences were advised against reading them, as they were “deemed too dark for their tender sensibilities” (34). As tends to be the case, the thought process there would evolve over time. But for the moment, their primary concern was preserving the innocent hopes and dreams of their children, rather than offering these readings as advice for the future. Had they exercised just a bit less caution, perhaps future generations would have made had the knowledge to make better choices.
Still, the idea does make sense on a certain level. After all, the messages of these novels would only grow stronger as the cycle of war, famine, and disease increased in severity. While many cite 1984 as the one that started it all, that honor would be better attributed to Swastika Night by Katherine Burdekin. Despite everything that would follow with the coming decade, Burdekin’s 1934 portrayal of absolute Nazi power may have been one of the most stirring portrait of their terrifying rise that would ever come to fiction: any especially incredible feat considering the WWII was barely on the world’s radar at the time! In the book’s entry for the Literature of Propaganda encyclopedia, award-winning author Colby Cuppernull points out, “The dystopian setting and anti-fascist themes of Swastika Night appeared in earlier British novels…However, Burdekin’s novel is directly a response to Hitler’s writings and his emerging power” (2). Due to the rarity of its content, as well as the strong themes of fascism and women’s rights (another rarely discussed aspect for the early 20th century), Swastika Night undoubtedly stood out. However, it was not remarkable solely because it mirrored the historical landscape of its own country. Authors had, and would, be doing that since the craft’s very invention. What was so intriguing about Burdekin’s work was the effect it had on the populace of Germany as a whole. In the mid-1930’s, Hitler was just establishing himself as one of history’s greatest dictators, and his country considered appeasement and reconciliation “as the best response to the Nazi Threat” (Cuppernull). Then came Burdekin’s writings, which not only achieved critical approval but “received immediate recognition, especially from left-wing groups,” especially as “war with Germany became imminent and knowledge of Hitler and the Nazi Party grew” (Cuppernull). The literary world had seen plenty of novels predicting their future, but to have one that very nearly came true was something unexpected. Swastika Night’s publication was just the beginning for dystopian novels, which would fuel further speculation as time went by, especially with the rise of the Internet and online forums. It is ironic that the story would become so forgotten as the years progressed and the genre grew, ultimately forgetting the one book that it owed so much to. Even so, its impact over eighty years ago cannot be underscored.
Scholars have also postulated that the boom in popularity has not only historical roots, but economic ones as well. The best study to support this theory would be one conducted in 1988 by Kriss A. Drass and Edgar Kiser, which examined the cyclical production of utopian and dystopian literature from 1883 to 1975. At first glance, the two concepts would appear to have nothing in common. But the two authors theorize that “When existing social arrangements are deemed ineffective, many ‘ideological entrepreneurs’ will be motivated to suggest new ones” (423). A war, for example, will inevitably lead some to feel as though the system of government is faulty, and should find a better way to resolve conflicts than sparring with other nations. This is accurate for the other extreme as well; when the economy is stable, the typically low-production dystopian genre tends to experience a major uptick in sales. A graph featured by Drass and Kiser, for example, displays these results at work in the mid-1940’s and early 1950’s, “the post-WWII period when the publication of dystopian novels increases noticeably” (430). On the heels of recovering from one of its most deadly conflicts yet, the United States was finally feeling a certain degree of contentment with the lives that they had. They no longer had to turn to utopian novels in order to feel a bit of security, and could freely express their creativity in imagining nightmare scenarios like the ones seen in 1984, Fahrenheit 451, and Rocket Ship Galileo—all of which were published in that flourishing time period that was the 40’s and 50’s.
As the years progressed, and pop culture as a whole began developing a much larger presence around the world, dystopian novels would eventually form a small, but integral part of our culture. Not only that, but the genre’s audience would slowly begin reaching younger audiences, teenagers in particular. Cart deems the aforementioned Rocket Ship Galileo as “The first stirrings of science fiction actually targeted at teens themselves” (34), but much of the genre’s mainstream application must also be credited to Orwell’s 1984. It spawned several catchphrases such as “Big Brother is Watching” which people then and now applied to the government’s rigidly enforced monitoring of everyday life. Not only did it serve as the largest source of production for the genre as a whole, but it is also proof of how it endures as other literary trends fall out of favor—the Twilight saga, for example. The novel, along with several of Orwell’s other works, also brought with it a certain amount of controversy for its politically charged message. Nicholas Karolides, author of Literature Suppressed on Political Grounds, says that most of Animal Farm’s detractors “objected to the words ‘masses will revolt’” (44), perhaps because it mirrored the central conflict of WWII—of which it was a thinly-veiled allegory—a bit too closely. If literary moralists at the time were concerned by this fairly vague proclamation, they would have been utterly horrified to see what later decades would bring.
Ultimately, time and the genre’s development would prove that there is more to these novels’ staying power than mere historical connections. The strife and drama that plagues the protagonists, despite being largely exaggerated, still has their basis in reality. In fact, some literary figures speculate that their sheer darkness actually makes readers feel slightly more content with their own situation. An article for New Statesman notes that in a world where “resource depletion, climate change, escalating inequality and the unstoppable greed of the elite” (Penny 19) are all major threats to life as we know it, opening up a copy of any novel in the Hunger Games or Divergent series can serve as quite an eye-opener. In modern-day America, most teenagers don’t get to choose the life they are born into, and are rarely afforded any opportunities for escape until they have nearly reached adulthood. But journalist Laurie Penny notices a theme running through these novels as a whole: “They are escapist only in that they allow for the possibility of resistance…however much they make you fight one another, you must always ‘remember who the real enemy is’” (19). Adolescent readers don’t just want the rebellion afforded by the futuristic plots—they need it to get through the trials that are to come.
Current events have made dystopian novels more imperative than ever. No longer are they fictional accounts of hypothetical scenarios—now they are instruction manuals for teenagers on the touchy subject of war in a way that relates to them personally. It may have begun with the tragedy of 9/11, where our own culture “suddenly caught up with writers’ dire imaginings” (Cart 34). In the aftermath, with what seemed like a global downward spiral at work, writers had a host of cultural issues to base a dystopian novel on. But if 9/11 was what started the trend, then Suzanne Collins was the one who officially brought it to a head. Her novel The Hunger Games and its subsequent sequels, Catching Fire and Mockingjay, skyrocketed up the bestseller list and were eventually adapted into a highly successful film series. In a dual interview with Francis Lawrence, who directed every film but the first one, Collins recounts her childhood with a father in the military and says “The Hunger Games is part of a larger goal I have, which is to write a war-appropriate story for every age of kids” (Grossman). Thanks to media in general—books included—younger readers may come away with a glamorized vision of what war looks like. By writing the series, Collins pulled back the veil on their misconceptions. No character leaves entirely unscathed by the war between the Capitol and the districts, just as everyone must deal with the consequences of war in real life. It was also the war themes themselves that attracted Lawrence to bringing the stories to the big screen. He recalls reading Catching Fire, saying “I just thought that there’s not many of these YA stories that really come from a real idea and strong, topical, relatable idea” (Grossman). It would be exceedingly difficult to find anything that fits that category better than war. It is equally important to remember that dystopian novels put all lives at stake—not just the protagonist’s, but their families as well. This “profound anxiety for the protagonist’s siblings, parents, and friends” (Penny 34) is one of the many powerful themes lurking beneath the exaggerated façade of dystopian novels. Readers will enjoy the latter, but what ultimately engages them and makes them hunger for more is the ability to recognize themselves in the dire situations that plague their favorite literary heroes.
Above all, however, dystopian novels are a nonexclusive genre that can appeal to just about anyone. Feminists, for example, have always been one of the biggest advocates for the popularity of dystopias. The reason why is pretty obvious; the majority of modern dystopian novels star “A courageous but flawed young girl” who “must fight for her survival and that of her people” (Penny 34). But even before the arrival of the 2010s, when The Hunger Games first hit the shelves and spawned a seemingly endless string of imitators, science fiction was slowly breaking down gender norms and making way for a stronger, more secure heroine. Take feminist writer Raffaella Baccolini’s article, “The Persistence of Hope in Dystopian Science Fiction,” where she explains how the genre is integral in “the exploration and subsequent breakdown of certainties and universalist assumption…by addressing…themes such as the representation of women and their bodies, reproduction and sexuality, and language and its relation to identity” (520). Any change starts with a discussion, and that is exactly what dystopian novels provide with their strong themes and unwavering convictions to doing what is right.
Despite the typically young protagonists of modern dystopian literature, the genre has also not forgotten its primarily adult roots. Suffering and uncertainty are universal issues, not just teenage woes, and they only grow worse as people age. Something like 1984, says Adrian Mourby of History Today, which predicted “Individuality would be crushed as an irrelevance” (17) would be the worst nightmare for any adult, especially those who are trying to raise a family. If history proceeded as these novels predict it will, they would “be reduced to little more than cogs in a social machine” (Mourby 17), and would be powerless if anyone tried to inflict harm on their loved ones. With the atmosphere of insecurity that surrounds them, even something like Divergent can inspire and motivate an older reader. Seeing a smart, wily teenager who rises above the odds and manages to shake up her strict, unforgiving government shows that change can be accomplished at any age. Perhaps on a smaller scale than the novel’s events would have readers believe, but it is not impossible.
A major part of most dystopian novels is propaganda, which those working in advertising will be all too familiar with. The corrupt overseeing authorities that govern society in most of the genre’s works typically use deceptive messages that appeal to the consumer class: lower-class individuals who dream of a better life, which the overseeing force promises them—with no intention of delivering, of course. All this and more was discovered by economics professor Rachel Wilkinson, who strove to teach her class dystopian literature, with the purpose of teaching students to “question and challenge the social forces that are informing their habits, decisions, and personalities” (25). With any luck, Wilkinson’s students will be able to put these lessons to good use, knowing more about the world of advertising and the power they wield. Whether they use it for their own purposes or to help others is ultimately their decision, but now they know the consequences it can bring.
There is, of course, the possibility that the genre has gotten a bit too pessimistic with time and with a constantly evolving culture. While dystopian novels by nature, and by their very definition, rarely look on the bright side, the trend as of late has taken a noticeably more cynical turn. One of the first to point this out was Philip Reeve, an award-winning author and writer for School Library Journal. In his article “The Worst is Yet to Come,” Reeve complains “It’s as if optimism has become so hopelessly quaint that we can no longer allow ourselves even to imagine a better future” (36). Although the cynical attitude is largely a product of the real world that inspired these novels, Reeve asserts that writers “have a duty to challenge the prevailing pessimism of mainstream culture” (36). Instead, writers seem to be going in the opposite direction. The Hunger Games, for example, presents the world of Panem as a place where the poor and weak can never catch up and the rich dominate all of the world’s resources for themselves; there are no gray areas. Even some of the genre’s advocates confess that the darkness can get a little wearying. Mourby surmises that “our imaginations are stimulated, possibly overstimulated, by dystopic images and scenarios” (17). And yet—why shouldn’t they be? Maybe the genre could stand to have a better sense of humor sometimes, but that is not its ultimate purpose. These novels are meant to teach readers, especially the younger ones, that they can make a difference. If the heroes of literature can overcome their seemingly insurmountable circumstances, they can surely overcome their own. To achieve that message, writers simply have no choice but to go all out and throw their audience into the bleakest picture of future civilization they can conjure up. It may be the only way readers will ever see a way out, and work to change themselves (and hopefully, the culture that surrounds them) for the better.
In conclusion, no genre is dispensable, but looking at the available research from over the years, it seems safe to say that if dystopian novels went out of fashion, it would be an unspeakable loss. They begin by soothing readers who are concerned for the state of their world, then use their themes and protagonists to inspire change, no matter how small. If a novel is especially aware of its circumstances, it can even predict events that are to come rather than just mirroring the available ones. Fortuneteller, counselor, and educator rolled into one—dystopian novels truly broke the literary mold.
Works Cited
Baccolini, Raffaella . “The Persistence of Hope in Dystopian Science Fiction.” PMLA, vol. 119, no. 3, 2004, pp. 518-21. JSTOR. www.jstor.org/stable/25486067.
Booker, M. Keith. Dystopia. Salem, 2013.
Cart, Michael. “Carte Blanche: Dateline Darkness.” Booklist, vol. 106, no. 18, 2010, p. 34.
Clute, John, and Peter Nicholls, eds. The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, vol. 1, St. Martin’s Press, 1993.
Cuppernull, Colby. “Swastika Night.” Literature of Propaganda. Gale, 2013. Credo Reference. Accessed 15 Jan. 2017.
Drass, Kriss A., and Edgar Kiser. “Structural Roots of Visions of the Future: World-System Crisis and Stability and the Production of Utopian Literature in the United States, 1883-1975.”International Studies Quarterly, vol. 32, no. 4, 1988, pp. 421-38. JSTOR. www.jstor.org/stable/2600591?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents.
Grossman, Lev. “Writing ‘War-Appropriate’ Stories for Kids: A Conversation With Suzanne Collins and Francis Lawrence.” Time, 19 Nov. 2013.
Karolides, Nicholas J. Literature Suppressed on Political Grounds. Facts on File, 2006.
Mourby, Adrian. “Dystopia: Who Needs It?” History Today, vol. 53, no. 12, 2003, pp. 16-17.
Orwell, George. 1984. Penguin Books, 1949.
Penny, Laurie. “No Wonder Teens Love Stories about Dystopian Futures-They Feel Like They’re Heading for One.” New Statesman, vol. 143, no. 5203, 2014, p. 19.
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Reeve, Philip. “The Worst is Yet to Come.” School Library Journal, vol. 57, no. 8, 2011, pp. 34-36.
Springen, Karen. “Apocalypse Now.” Publishers Weekly, vol. 257, no. 7, 2010, pp. 21-24.
Wallis, John, and Newport, Kenneth G.C. The End All Around Us: Apocalyptic Texts and Popular Culture. Equinox, 2009.
Wilkinson, Rachel. “Teaching Dystopian Literature to a Consumer Class.” English Journal, vol. 99, no. 3, 2010, pp. 22-26.
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