Dave’s Anatomy: My History As a Writer #124: Religion, Politics, and War: “The Saint”

I’ve often heard that politics and religion do not mix. Well, that’s a fairly new idea. In ancient times, if one nation defeated another, the explanation was that the God of the victorious nation was stronger than the god of the defeated one. Early on, Christians used the sword to spread the faith (e.g., Franks forcibly converting the pagan Saxons); Islam spread its faith by war. Christians and Muslims, and factions within those two religions, often fought against each other. Leaders used religion to drum up nationalistic fervor.

 Many early science fiction writers thought that religion would not be a part of the future—overlooking the fact that religion is part and parcel of the human race and has been around since our history began. In Arthur C. Clark’s Childhood’s End, religion fades away when a new race of being introduces Earth to matters that advance our evolution. In the early Star Trek series, religion was irrelevant. Then a funny thing happened on the way to Degoba. After Star Wars, with its Zen-like Force and  Zen-monk-like Jedi Knights, religion suddenly made a roaring comeback. Even the later Star Trek spin-offs, Voyager and Deep Space Nine, gave place to religion:  the Borg worshipped a mandala-like geometric pattern and the Bajorans were a very religious people.

I have no doubt that all the faith, good, evil, sincerity, hypocrisy, and politics that religion has brought about on Earth will also exist in a galaxy where space travel is possible. So in my sci-fi universe, religion exists as much as it presently does. Other races have their own faiths and, sometimes, convert to religions brought from Earth. I cannot be convinced that just because a man or woman can ride about in a spaceship they will not feel a longing for the Divine.

My story, “The Saint,” takes place in a future world where the Terran Alliance (Earth and its colony planets) is a major player. There are pro- and anti-Terran systems. One of the races that the Terrans and many of the others in the galaxy constantly fight is the Housali. The Housali are treacherous, technologically advanced, and completely unscrupulous. They often engage in espionage and are eager to use religion as a manipulative tool for furthering their political ambitions. 

In “The Saint,” special forces operative Laurissa Culdoon is sent on assignment to capture the leader of an insurgency. The insurgent, Justina Zita, has convinced the people of the planet that God has spoken to her and she is his appointed messenger. Laurissa has orders to capture her. With the help of a supporting platoon, she is able to defeat the force Justina is leading, kill her bodyguards, and knock her unconscious. 

In my sci-fi universe, the Terran (Earth) Alliance is dominated not by Europeans but by Indians. Hinduism the most widespread religion and Hindu culture the primary cultural force—though there is significant minority or Europeans and other races who also belong to the Alliance. Justine Zita’s insurgents have attacked Hindu temples, massacred clergy and committed outrages on renunciate women in ashrams (Hindu nuns). The Alliance knew that only by taking Zita out would they be able to end the violence of the insurgency. When Laurissa has captured the woman, she contacts her commanding officer, Kamala, to tell her the mission is accomplished.

After the capture, Laurissa learns that Zita is being mistreated. She talks to Kamala, whose life she once saved in battle, and asks if she will grant her a favor. Kamala, who owes Laurissa “obligation” because she saved her life, agrees. Laurissa asks to see the woman.

She finds that Zita has been stripped naked and is guarded by male guards. Kamala has filed a petition for a writ of torture—permission by the government and military to use torture on the woman; and they plan to execute her. Laurissa uses her influence with her friend Kamala to get clothes for Zita. They talk and Laurissa’s suspicions are proven true. She has female doctors examine the prisoner. They find hallucinogens in her system. She convinces her superiors that the Housali have used the woman. Hoping to stir up an insurgency on the planet, they have convinced her that God is speaking to her and she must lead a military effort to remove the Hindu influence form her planet. The hallucinogens make her hear voices she assumes are from God. The Housali also want her executed. If she is made a martyr, they realize, this will spur her follows to continue fighting.

A medical examination and “drying out” from the drugs she had been given makes Zita return to her old religion and repudiate her role as a military/spiritual leader. The insurgency is fully broken by this. Zita will not be executed but returned to her home planet, where the government will mediate between Hindu and Christian claims and concerns. Home with her husband and children, Laurissa recalls how religious violence on her old world had hurt her as well.

“The Saint” appeared in the anthology VFW: Veterans of Future Wars. It is available in print. Get a copy here.

The Court of the Sovereign King is a story of intrigue and perseverance. A young woman is taken in the annual levy, placed under a vow of chastity, and sent to serve in the Court of the Sovereign King. She soon knows the evil that dwells there. And it knows her. Get a copy here.

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Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer #103: Religion and Outer Space: "Antigone"

One of my earliest blogs was titled "A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Dagobah . . . or, How Science Fiction Got Religion" (read here). Early science fiction writers like Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clark, and a host of lesser lights depicted the future in outer space as devoid of religion. In their stories, religion is simply gone, a relic that has passed off the scene along with mule trains and triremes. The supreme expression of this assumption was a story by Lester Del Ray called "Evensong," in which a desperate being is fleeing from pursuers, finds a planet where he thinks he is safe, but then is captured. Quoting from that blog:  His benevolent captor tells him he will be taken to a planet where he will be well-treated and have a nice home. The creature whimpers pathetically, "But I'm God!" His captor returns, "Yes, but I am Man." The story appeared in Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison. You can read it here.

So it was and still is in some science fiction. But the funny thing that happened was that science fiction suddenly became laced with religion. This was first apparent, at least to me, in Star Wars, where we learned about the Force, met the Jedi (who were rather like Shaolin monks), and encountered Yoda (whose name sounded like Yoga and who greatly resembled a Zen master). Religion, banished in the 1950s and 1960s, suddenly made a rather spectacular comeback.

Antigone, from the play

My story "Antigone" happily inhabits this new world where to talk about religion is okay. In my science fiction world-building, various religions thrive. The Mervogian races worships the "holy light" of the Besrid nebula. Numerous planets kneel before the Goddess Robinna. Earth, of course, has transported its religions into space. Some alien races have accepted earthly religion. The Barzalian and Golorian planetary systems have converted to Roman Catholicism—the Barzalians expressing the Catholicism of Saint Francis, the Golorians that of Cortez and the Conquistadors. Other religions exist in various places. Again, quoting my own writing, The human race … has always had religions. To assume religion will simply go away because people can fly into space seems a bit specious. And to assume other civilizations would not have religions is equally specious.

"Antigone" takes place on a colony planet that is part of the Earth-led Terran Alliance. In my world, the predominant race of the Terran Alliance, the most populous and influential, is the Indian race. The most common religion is Hinduism (though there is a significant "European" minority and all races have equal status). On Planet Antigone, a cult has grown up that worships the figure of Antigone. It draws mostly from the European population of the Indian-dominated planet, but attracts people from all faiths. They have Temples, icons of the goddess, and many converts. The government is tolerant, but the Thebans (followers of Antigone, who came from that city) are militant. When the government begins to develop a grove that Thebans consider sacred, they revolt.

Thebans: Antigone worshipers

Their revolt is well-planned. They surprise the army, win some initial victories and, as terrorists often do, take hostages. One of the hostages is Asha, the wife of Lorac, an army officer who is the main character of the story. She is a doctor.

The military counterattacks. They find the followers of Antigone are not well-trained. They are, however, led by a formidable military commander named Evangeline Müller. After some fierce fighting, the Terran military manages to surround the main force of Thebans. A group of commandos infiltrate the camp and find out the Antigone worshipers are in collusion with a hostile race of beings, the Housali, who are supplying them with arms. They also find out why many of the Theban militants claimed to have seen Antigone. The Housali have selected a young woman to impersonate her. They have done plastic surgery to make her look like images of Antigone. They also give her mind-altering drugs that enable her to project mental energy that induces a peaceful, ecstatic feelings in anyone close to her. The Thebans believe their blissful, supernal feelings come from being near the goddess. They are ready to give up everything and to die for her.

The Terran military also finds a Housali ship, with cloaking capabilities, moored in the middle of the Theban camp. And Lorcan sees the captured Asha. He controls his desire to liberate her.The Terrans seize the Housali ship and rescue Asha. She is quiet. After a while, Lorac realizes the Housali have sexually assaulted her.

Using the ship's monitor, they find the location of Evangeline Müller and capture her. The revolt dissolved without her leadership. The Terrans also capture the Housali woman who impersonates Antigone.

The aftermath of the revolt brings stern retribution. Insurgents are punished with death or imprisonment. The woman who impersonated Antigone is acquitted of all guilt because the Housali forced her, a slave, to participate in the ruse. Evangeline Müller is tried for treason and sentenced to be hanged. Lorac goes to her to tell her that neither he nor Asha bear her any ill will. She has been told that the guards who will execute her are planning to conduct the hanging in such a way that she slowly strangles to death. Lorac knows the soldier assigned to do the execution. She pleads with him to intervene for her so he will make it quick. Thinking of all the suffering Müller has caused, and what happened to his wife, he is reluctant but agrees and successfully intervenes on her part. When she is executed, she dies instantly. Asha is asked, at the last minute, to participate in the autopsy that certifies her death.

At the end, he and Asha pay a tribute to her. They realize how people are caught up in falsity and how all of us are vulnerable to deception. The ceremony they perform indicates Evangeline has been forgiven. The planet is renamed Gargi Vachaknu, after a Hindu sage. Worship of Antigone is severely restricted, though not forbidden.

The story appeared in Fiction on the Web. Read it here.

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Coming soon:  the sequel to my vampire novel, Sinfonia: The First Notes on the Lute. Read the first book in the series to prepare you for the second one.

Happy summer.

Happy reading.  

Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer #74: "To Keep a True Lent"

Poet Robert Herrick

I did my Ph.D on the poetry of Robert Herrick. Herrick was a Seventeenth-Century poet, known mostly for his line, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"—the poem that Robin Williams recites to his students in Dead Poet's Society when he takes them down to the trophy room at their school and shows them the pictures of former students, now all dead, and urges his current students to "seize the day." The name of the poem is "To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time," and it is considered one of the classic carpe diem poems.

I also had a neighbor. Let's call him Jerry. He lived around the corner from me when I was a kid. He had a wife and two adopted sons and was very devout religiously. My family did not pay much attention to religion, so his devotion to faith (he was a Roman Catholic) fascinated me. We lived in that house just across from his for about ten years, so I got to know him and his wife, and, later, his two sons, very well.

I give these seemingly unrelated facts because they came together to make a story. Hemingway is famous for his advice that writers should "write one story about each thing you know." And many times I've wondered, How do stories come about? What disparate elements congeal to make a narrative? It is possible to write about what we know. I write about music quite a lot because I am a musician. But how do stories form? I am amazed at how very remote matters can make a story. In this one my experience as a musician, my propensity to ponder religious matters, and my experience knowing some very devout people all came together to create the tale, "To Keep a True Lent."

The title is taken from a poem by Robert Herrick. Few people know that this poet of "seize the day" was an Anglican priest and wrote many religious poems, one of them titled "To Keep a True Lent." Lent is the time of year before Easter when many Christian sects deny themselves certain things so they can identify with suffering of Jesus Christ. What you gave up varied from age to age. In the Middle Ages, people gave up sex during Lent (now that was a true deprivation); I've know people today who give up the internet, soft drinks, candy, such things as this (which does not seem a particularly great deprivation). But people do this, and I often get asked by friends what I am giving up for Lent. Since I don't belong to a denomination that practices this discipline I tell them nothing.

My story centered around a successful musician, named Blake, nationally known, who likes to play local gigs in bars, not announcing who is playing, giving the people who show up a surprise that they will get to see a rock superstar play at their favorite pub. He plays one night and is tagged by a girl afterwards. He takes her home. When they are finished making love she tells him she is homeless and asks for money. He gets lots of requests for this, but something about the girl's sincerity moves him. He asks her if she wants to work for him, sets her up in an apartment, and pays her for shoveling snow and cleaning his apartment (his regular girlfriend is away for a stint working in Japan). She is amazed and accepts his offer. An occasional night in bed is also a part of the deal.

Enter his next-door neighbor, Jerry. He is a lot like my neighbor from so many years ago. He is devoutly religious. When Blake asks him how he is he says he's a little hungry because he is practicing a "black fast." This is when one only eats bread and drinks water during the Lenten season—to "mortify" (kill) the fleshly desires of the body. Jerry also know Julissa, the girl who Blake has hired and his housekeeper. He knows her story, says the way she lives has devastated her parents, and gently but thoroughly condemns her. For all their differences, Blake likes Jerry and parries his criticism of Julissa, saying her parents had been unfair with her, she had fallen on hard times, and he is helping her out. Still, Jerry has little good to say for the girl. Later on, Blake discovers that Julissa's family knows Jerry and Julissa knows a lot about him. She claims he doesn't have sex with his wife but lives in "married chastity." This, she says, is why they adopted children rather than having their own—though Blake is not certain this is true and thinks it might just be rumor and gossip.

Jerry's criticisms of Blake and his relationship with Julissa, grows more strident. He finally accuses Blake of exploiting the girl, a thing he denies, saying she consented to the arrangement and can back out of it at any time. They get in a heated discussion, but Blake and Jerry genuinely admire each other, despite their differences, and manage to remain civil and not part ways. And Jerry has brought Blake a gift. It is some of the bread he is eating for his "black fast." He thanks Jerry and takes the bread back to his apartment to eat it. He meditates as he partakes:

I took the bread inside, cut off a thick slice, warmed it in the microwave, put on butter, and bit into it. The sweet, wholegrain flavor filled my mouth. I thought of Jerry eating such delightfully flavorful bread as a way to suffer. Could he recognize its delightful flavor when he had framed the act of eating it in such a negative way? I thought of Julissa, probably back at her apartment by now, excitedly telling her boyfriend I intended to pay for her school and hire her as my booking manager when she graduated--or possibly before.

Julissa

He thinks of Samantha, his girlfriend, and of the tour he will soon embark upon.

The theme of the story is, of course, the nature of religious devotion. Blake, an unbeliever, is showing compassion and love to Julissa. Jerry is only condemning her. In the poem that is the title of the story, Herrick talks about how some people keep Lent by denying themselves meat but then "heap the platter high with fish" (an acceptable alternative to eating meat during Lent). To keep a true Lent, he says, is "to dole / Thy sheaf of wheat, / And meat, / Unto the hungry soul." Blake is showing genuine love and compassion to Julissa, and this is more important than only eating bread. Blake is in fact keeping a true Lent.

"To Keep a True Lent" appeared in a magazine called The Cynic OnLine, no longer published, but it does maintain an archive and you can read the story here.

A vampire who is an internationally known lutenist and guitarist has to be careful to keep her identity as one of the undead a secret--hard to do when you are a celebrity. Get a copy of Sinfonia: The First Notes on the Lute. Great reading. Don't read it alone!

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Dave’s Anatomy: My History as a Writer, #73: Science Fiction and Religion: “The Priestesses of Light”

Deep Space Nine

Science fiction occupies several sub-genres. Hard Science Fiction deals with technology and contains quite a lot of “science”; this is what writers like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke used to do. Space Opera is Buck Rogers and Star Wars and the like. Cyberpunk centers around technology, artificial intelligence, and informational science. Military science fiction explores war and soldiering in future and interstellar settings—Elizabeth Moon’s Rules of Engagement comes to mind. My story, “The Priestesses of Light” is more on the sociological and cultural side of things.

Kai Winn, Bajoran Priestess

Think of Deep Space Nine, a Star Trek series that ran for several years and primarily deal with cultures, their interactions, conflicts, and natures. Deep Space Nine was a space station that orbited the planet Bajor. The Bajorans were a very religious race of beings. They had been conquered and occupied by the Cardassians, a ruthless, aggressive planet system who had cruelly oppressed the Bajorans, who are still recovering from the ill effects of the occupation and have allied themselves with the Federation. Deep Space Nine is a trading post and so attracted an endless variety of beings who represent different cultures and ways of life:  Klingon, Ferengi, Trill, Lurian, Vulcan, Romulan, and many more. They interact.

With the Bajorans, religion is important. This is an interesting development in science fiction. In the future worlds of Asimov and Clarke, religion has disappeared, and science fiction generally ignored the subject for years—then a funny thing happened on the way of Dagoba. Religion re-emerged very strongly in Star Wars. And it became a subject once more.

Re-enactor dressed as Roman Vestal Priestess

My story, “The Priestesses of Light,” deals with a planet strongly influenced by religion (the worship of a goddess). On this particular world, a parasitic creature that causes blindness infects children. The custom for female children so infected is to enroll them as priestesses of the Goddess Robinna, the deity worshipped on the planet. For centuries, the blind priestesses conducted worship. Until a physician named Lalayna, from the nearby planet Mervogia, discovers a cure. She is praised—but not by everyone.

Tradition is a strong element in most religions. A large faction on Planet Suva want to keep the tradition of blind priestesses. This creates an ethical dilemma. Will certain young women be denied the vaccine Lalayna has developed? Other planets that worship Robinna point out that there is nothing in the religion that demands priestesses be blind. Lalayna will attend and speak at a symposium where officials will announce that the serum preventing blindness will be offered to all children and the tradition of blind priestesses will end.

Lalayna, who has devoted herself to medicine has a revelation:  One winter noon, eating lunch and watching the snow fall outside the window of her office, she realized she was forty years old, unmarried, still a virgin, and without a single romantic prospect on this world or any other. Luck has it that she becomes engaged. In a few weeks, she will go to the altar as a virgin bride and become a wife.

She is disappointed that the chief priestesses cannot attend the session as promised. Lalayna gets up to speak, urges the people of Suva to accept change, and assures them that their religion will not be harmed by having sighted priestesses—after all, it so on the other planets in the area that worship their goddess. As she is speaking, an explosion shatters the windows of the building. Blaster fire erupts and she is seized and taken to a small room by partisans of the old traditions of the religion.

They tie her to a chair. One of their leaders holding white-hot iron rod tells her what he plans to do. “I can’t stop what you’ve set in motion, but I can ordain you as a priestess. We called them the Priestesses of Light because though they lived in darkness they give light.” As he lowers the glowing steel, Lalayna realizes, with horror, that when he blinds her, she will indeed be qualified to be a priestess of light in every way:  she is a woman, she is a virgin, and, now, she will be blind.

Lucine

A voice comes through the darkness: "Stop this at once.” Lalayna’s tormenter lowers the rod. It is Lucine, the chief priestess of the planet, She has learned of the plot to blind Lalayna and taken steps to prevent it. By this time, soldiers have secured the building and taken the rebels into custody. Asha, a colleague and friend of Lalayna, rushes to her and begins to care for her. She is shaken and sobbing but unharmed. The priestesses of light, though blind, have more insight than the traditionalists. The changes in religion will go on as planned. Lalayna will be married. The insurgency will come to an end.

The story appeared in a journal called Four-Cornered Universe, now defunct and with no archive. It was reprinted, however, in an issue of Startling Sci-Fi and is available for purchase. Get a copy here.

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How do lutes, vampires, Shakespeare, and Queen Elizabeth I figure in together? Find out:  Sinfonia: The First Notes on the Lute

I would love to hear your comments.

Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer, #32: Writing on Religion: The Stylite

BuddhistNuns

Some of my writing follows religious themes. I am constantly intrigued with what people believe and how religion affects their lives. I try not to be partisan. My religion is Christianity, but my writing recognizes a wide system of belief or lack of belief. One of my characters begins a prayer, "Lord Buddha, you know I don't believe in you." Religion takes many forms and includes many varieties and stripes of belief, from cool to lukewarm to overly-zealous. I am not hostile to religion, but then again I see the problems too much religious fervor brings about. Fundamentalism of any sort—whether it is a Baptist fundamentalist like Jerry Falwell or an atheist fundamentalist like Richard Dawkins—is not a good deal. Yet religion can make for interesting stories.

The next story in my publishing history was one about religious, titled "The Stylite."

Saint Simon the Stylite

What is a stylite? It's really weird. Stylites were monks who live on the top of platforms. That's it:  they lived on platforms set on poles up to forty feet from the ground. People sent food up to them and they lived on the poles in all kinds of weather, praying, meditating in their solitude, sometimes so many that the areas they lived in were called "forests." These were some of the excesses of piety that existed in the early days of Christianity—unbelievable to us but historically true.

Myrna is a devout girl who belongs to and identifies with the Orthodox Church. Her world is turned upside-down when her brother, Stephen, who lives alone in a house a short distance from where she lives with her parents, declares his intention to become a stylite. The family is alarmed when they can't talk him out of it. They call in the priest who says such behavior might have been a proper expression of devotion in the second century, but now it would amount to spiritual exhibitionism and would become a scandal to the church. He promises to talk to Stephen.

She goes to school the next day. Her friends ask her what her brother is doing. She hopes their priest has altered his inclinations, but when she drives home, she finds a crowd of reporters at his house. The story is all over the internet and on television. With horror, she realizes what this will mean for her at school, where she is popular. Her enemies will use it to brand her as weird. She will topple from her high place on the food-chain there. She despairs, not understanding why her brother would do such a thing. He has been loyal to the church, but never overly devout or pious. She, in fact, is the one who has stayed for different periods of time at convents and seriously entertained the idea of becoming a nun.

While contemplating this, she—like many people in the Bible and throughout Christian history—has a revelation.

Myrna has a date that night. Because of her commitment to religion and to perhaps becoming a nun someday, she has remained a virgin. She asks her boyfriend for a kiss before they head out to a barn dance. He notices the miniskirt she is wearing and says he better not because it might make him try to violate what he calls her "underwear rule"—meaning that underwear will not be removed—in other words, she does not intend to have sex with boys she dates. Myrna simply replies “Tonight you don’t have to worry about my underwear rule. I’m not wearing any.”

The next morning she goes to her brother and sends a note up to him. She will not be a nun, she tells him:  Stephen—I understand. I won’t go to the convent, ever again. I can’t be a nun now. I’m disqualified. It happened last night. I think you know what I mean. Please come down. She watches with relief as a rope comes down and her brother climbs it to the ground, abandoning his place on the stylite platform.

Religion is good in many ways; still, I can't help but thinking that when it leads to extreme asceticism—self-denial and the abrogation of pleasure in life—it isn't helping itself or anyone else—the very thing Stephen is trying to show his sister. Benjamin Franklin, whose views on religion were controversial, said he was in favor of people having faith as long it did some good for the human race. John Milton said he could not praise "a fugitive and cloistered virtue." My views lean toward this. Living on top of a platform is not the best way of showing your devotion toward the Divine—but there are a lot of other ways of showing devotion that are also wrong.

"The Stylite" appeared in a journal called Five Fishes, no longer in operation, but, happily, with an archive. You can read the story here. Some poems are featured first, you will need to scroll down to get to my story.

Read my latest book, Le Cafe de la Mort. Coffee to die for, served up by the Angel of Death.

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