So this student named Tomas Nilsson had a school assignment to re-interpret the classic tale “Little Red Riding Hood”–and this is what he came up with:
Slagsmålsklubben – Sponsored by destiny from Tomas Nilsson on Vimeo.
Now, I can understand if you think: Hey, Suvudu — this isn’t science fiction.
Wrong.
I take a broad view of science fiction and fantasy, because I tend to find people are a lot less inclined to look down upon it if they realize how much great literature (you know: stuff they teach in schools) is technically sci-fi: speculative, fantastical, and often both.
So I’m the kind of person who sees Ayn Rand and George Orwell as writing sci-fi, just Homer and Shakespeare were writing fantasies. How else would you describe 1984? Dystopian?
But doesn’t that sound sci-fi’ish anyway?
What about A Midsummer Night’s Dream? It’s purely fantasy–and has no pretensions to the contrary. And yet, I know people who might hem-and-haw at this: Oh, well, it’s imaginative, surely, but it’s a fairy tale, a dream-world, a . . .
…fantasy?
Consider, too, last year’s Hugo Award winner (one of the highest honors a science fiction novel can win): Michael Chabon’s The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. This is almost a reverse of my argument, in which case what is seemingly a detective novel is classified sci-fi because it’s set in an alternate history.
So–because we like Chabon and respect him as a writer, he’s all of a sudden science fiction? It’s almost like people want him to be science fiction, because then the literati can be like: “See, we read sci-fi,” and the sci-fi people can be like: “See, we read literary fiction” (of course, I feel like with the latter, we have no problem saying this).
The fact is, science fiction and fantasy have always been a part of our cultural heritage, and by “our,” I mean the world’s cultural heritage. Science fiction is a way for us to grasp ideas, lessons, and morals in both an entertaining and metaphorical way–the allusions of illusions. Myths, creation stories, oral traditions, fables, fairy tales–they’re all different patterns on the same cloth. The classification, then, of something as science fiction doesn’t negate it’s cultural importance–if anything, it negates that labeler’s ability to thing objectively.
I think we in the community label what we do as science fiction–embrace it, actually–because it helps create that bond, that sense of ownership over what we actively consume (and, because as rational humans, I think there’s an innate need for us to classify and name things). I feel most of the people I meet, whether it’s readers, viewers, or those inside the industry, tend to revel in their inner (and outer) geekdom. Sure, I’m guessing a psychologist would say that’s a defense mechanism, preempting abuse by offering up a bit of a sacrifice. And they might be right, in a sense.
But I’m sure a psychohistorian would say that this is a good thing, a way to make sure that the bad times don’t last as long as they could.
In a nut-shell, this rather rambling diatribe comes down to this: not only is much of what we consume culturally based in some sort of altered reality, but that ultimately, that’s what we want from our cultural artifacts. We want to get lost in a world other than our own, whether it’s to experience the “realness” of a time not our own, like The Grapes of Wrath, the preposterousness of life like The Importance of Being Earnest, or the pure escapism of a book like The Lies of Locke Lamora, there is merit and wonder to be found in all of them.
So first, enjoy the video for what it is: a really clever, highly amusing adaptation of a time-tested story. Then, think of how a story about a talking wolf and a grandmother that can survive being eaten has stayed so popular for so long.
I’m not saying other forms of fiction are worse. Rather, I’m trying to help you realize that you’ve been a sci-fi reader all your life.
