I first encountered a science-fiction portrayal of religion in the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs. In The Gods of Mars, when the people of the Red Planet grow weary of their long lives, they undertake a pilgrimage down the River Iss to Barsoom’s South Pole, where eternal paradise allegedly awaits. In reality, the land at the river’s end is a nightmare realm of slavery and death, a truth their priests selfishly and cynically conceal.
Later, in The Master Mind of Mars, the sixth book of the series, a band of heroes discovers that the living idol of the city-state of Phundahl only talks because other unscrupulous priests speak through it like a megaphone. And meanwhile, here on Jasoom (or Earth, if you prefer), in the pages of Tarzan the Terrible, the apeman visits the lost world of Pal-ul-Don and finds its two indigenous peoples engaged in an endless religious war over the question of whether God has a tail.
In other words, Burroughs’s portrayal of religion is consistently critical or downright satirical, and in this, his books are like most of the SF I read as a kid or in the decades since. Robert A. Heinlein’s Revolt in 2100 depicts a tyrannical future theocracy. So does Fritz Leiber’s Gather, Darkness, with the twist that the rebels adopt the trappings of witchcraft to bring down the oppressors. In Roger Zelazny’s “A Rose for Ecclesiastes,” adherence to religious dogma seemingly means extinction for the people of Mars, and in the same author’s Lord of Light, oligarchs rule a planet by impersonating the gods of Hindu mythology.
In fact, I can think of few true SF stories (as opposed to those manifestly intended as fantasy yarns that just toss a little science or super-science into the mix, like Zelazny’s Jack of Shadows and Simon R. Green’s “Nightside” novels) that take a sympathetic view of religion. Frank Herbert’s Dune, maybe. But the esoteric belief systems in that work have more to do with psychic powers and racial destiny than they do with faith in the divine, and to my mind, they’re not religions in the same sense as the churches depicted by Burroughs and those who followed in his scoffer’s footsteps.
I’m not a believer, so as you might expect, I’m okay with SF’s general rejection of religion as long as criticism of ideas doesn’t turn into bigotry against people. To me, the genre’s posture seems only natural, because a literature that celebrates science perforce embraces rationalism and empiricism. That way of looking at the world is inherently at odds with a faith-based perspective.
But writers of fantasy and supernatural horror (like me) are in one sense excused from that argument. Our form of fiction is by definition the literature of not just the marvelous but the impossible. That means we can portray deities as real and religions as true without it necessarily coming across as advocacy of such beliefs.
Although sometimes it is. C. S. Lewis’s “Chronicles of Narnia” books are straight-up Christian allegories urging us readers to get right with the Lord. Lewis’s pal Charles Williams displays the same sort of missionary intent in novels like Descent into Hell and All Hallows’ Eve.
I think it’s fair to say, though, that the majority of 20th and 21st Century fantasy and horror writers are guys like H. P. Lovecraft, creator of the Cthulhu Mythos, L. Sprague de Camp, author of The Tritonian Ring and co-creator of the “Incomplete Enchanter” series, and, well, me. When we depict religious beliefs and institutions, it’s purely for the sake of a good yarn, with zero expectation or desire to have our conceits taken literally. That’s true even when we’re messing around with concepts derived from a real-world religion like Christianity, as Tad Williams’s novel The Dirty Streets of Heaven and the TV series Supernatural do to good effect.
Unfortunately, a work’s manifest playfulness doesn’t always protect it against the charge that it’s offensive, blasphemous, or flat-out satanic. Some Christians view J. K. Rowling’s “Harry Potter” novels as an attempt to seduce kids into practicing black magic. Such fears reflect a failure to comprehend what fantasy literature even is and make us devotees wonder if those who suffer them were born without imaginations.
Accordingly, we’d be crazy to care about what such people think. But maybe there’s a subtler issue for skeptical fantasy writers to consider. When we write about the divine even though we believe what we’re depicting is impossible nonsense, can we still say something relevant to the human condition, or must we settle for creating something amusing but devoid of thematic heft?
I think the best work of our predecessors shows we can say something meaningful. Cthulhu and Azathoth are mere figments, but Lovecraft employs them and the other entities of his mythology to provide a vision of limitless space, deep time, and mankind’s place amid all that vastness. It may not be the only truth of our existence (you kind of hope it’s not), but that it’s one truth is hard to deny. Similarly, in Fritz Leiber’s “The Price of Pain-Ease,” when the Gray Mouser and Fafhrd enter the realm of Death (the most genuinely godlike figure in their world of Nehwon) to redeem their lost loves, their experiences serve as a commentary on grief, despair, and the means by which people overcome them.
Now, I’m not suggesting that storytellers should be forever preoccupied with theme, that when the words are flowing, the hero’s cracking jokes, the blades are flashing, the fists and bullets are flying, the monster’s attacking, the time bomb is ticking, we should stop and ask, “Am I saying something important here? Is there a message?” No. Screw that. Our goal is entertainment, and if a particular story or sequence “merely” entertains, that’s okay. In fact, it’s better than okay. It’s great.
Still, though, I think many writers would cop to the hope that their stories provide a little something more than simple entertainment from time to time. If you’re that kind of writer and you’re bringing deities onstage, it may be worthwhile to put a little extra thought into how you portray them. They are, after all, likely the most awesome entities your characters will ever encounter, beings that embody their concepts of existence and the universe, and if you depict them in a manner that reflects that and resonates with whatever internal conflicts the mortals are experiencing, your story may be more powerful as a result.
Leigh M. Lane on February 23, 2013
I’ve explored this theme in a few of my works, most notably an allegory titled MYTHS OF GODS, which features an agnostic god that knows no more about the meaning of existence than the people it creates. I think it’s an excellent tool through which to offer religious criticism without alienating religious readers.
Richard Lee Byers on February 23, 2013
It sounds like an excellent strategy, Leigh, although as I suggested in my post, there are moments when addressing these subjects without offending religious people of a certain bent (or even writing fantasy at all without offending them) can seem like an impossible dream.
David Ellis on February 25, 2013
“In fact, I can think of few true SF stories (as opposed to those manifestly intended as fantasy yarns that just toss a little science or super-science into the mix, like Zelazny’s Jack of Shadows and Simon R. Green’s “Nightside” novels) that take a sympathetic view of religion.”
Really? I can think of lots of examples. DEUS X by Norman Spinrad. C.S. Lewis’s SPACE TRILOGY. EIFELHEIM by Michael Flynn. THE SPARROW by Maria Doria Russell. CALCULATING GOD by Robert J. Sawyer. THE NIGHT’S DAWN TRILOGY by Peter F. Hamilton.
One could go on and on.
P.F. Bruns on February 25, 2013
Thought-provoking and well-written as always! For me, one of the interesting things about Frank Herbert’s portrayal of religion in Dune is that people’s ethics didn’t depend on their religion, and vice versa. We saw that Paul had serious misgivings about the various prophecies that came to rule his life, but that he tried to do as much good as he could, even so. We also saw that Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam tended to act in a way that ensured the most stability throughout known space, though to some extent, both allowed their own personal feelings to color their belief.
(Yes, I just reread Dune very closely.)
The portrayals of religion in science fiction and fantasy that work best for me are the ones that show clearly what role it has in the world being portrayed, and that deliberately depict ethical shades of gray (and other colors), as opposed to just saying, “This religion is good!” or “That religion is terrible!” or “All religion leads to dooooooooooom.” (Fewer “o”s may be okay.)
I feel comfortable saying that even though I don’t believe that any known religion has it completely right. Or perhaps because.
But as I myself write, I’ve recently had an epiphany that I should have realized long ago: a character can be completely misguided or even wrong (or right!) without it reflecting on the author! Of course, the converse is also true in some cases, but most of the time, if the author completely hoses it up (the Left Behind series comes to mind for me), the characters do suffer as a result.
Richard Lee Byers on February 25, 2013
David: To me (perhaps because of my own biases), Lewis’s space trilogy feels more like fantasy with SF trappings than true SF. It does, after all, bring actual angels and such on stage.
I have to cop to not having read the other novels you mention. The field has grown so large that few people can read everything, and one of the things that many writers discover is that their work prevents them from reading as much for pleasure as they once did.
I am somewhat better read in fantasy and horror, the fields in which I work myself, than I am in recent SF.
But since you’re seemingly better read in current SF than I am, what’s your opinion on this issue? Overall, does SF tend to be anti-religion (as I suggested), pro-religion, or neutral?
P. F.: Thanks for your post. I’m glad you realize that the character’s views are not always the author’s. I’m especially glad since I write some really despicable characters.
David Ellis on February 25, 2013
“David: To me (perhaps because of my own biases), Lewis’s space trilogy feels more like fantasy with SF trappings than true SF. It does, after all, bring actual angels and such on stage.”
C.S. Lewis believed angels actually exist. Fantasy is, by any reasonable definition, about things the author thinks don’t really exist. C.S. Lewis noticed that science fiction (like that of HG Wells) tended to be written from the perspective of the nonreligious. The whole point of the Space Trilogy was to write science fiction from a Christian’s perspective—one in which the supernatural is a reality which occasionally does appear on stage.
And, atheist though I am, I consider it perfectly reasonable to call it science fiction. I’m not going to define science fiction in such a way that it only counts as True Science Fiction if it shares, or at least doesn’t contradict, my beliefs about the nature of the world.
“But since you’re seemingly better read in current SF than I am, what’s your opinion on this issue? Overall, does SF tend to be anti-religion (as I suggested), pro-religion, or neutral?”
It’s a pretty mixed bag. There’s some strongly anti-religious SF, some decidedly pro-religious SF and the majority where the author just isn’t dealing with that issue and the action occurs in a world much like the present day: there are believers in the supernatural but no clearly supernatural events.
There does seem to be a strong tendency not to have the supernatural appear onstage in works the author intends as science fiction. Which is why your impression of the Space Trilogy is so common. There just aren’t a lot of examples of science fiction of the sort Lewis was writing.
Which is somewhat puzzling since the majority of science fiction readers actually do believe in one religion or another. You’d think more of them would want the sort of science fiction Lewis was trying to jumpstart into existence. There are other examples to be sure. But not many and mostly not very good.
Kat Heckenbach on February 28, 2013
“Which is somewhat puzzling since the majority of science fiction readers actually do believe in one religion or another. You’d think more of them would want the sort of science fiction Lewis was trying to jumpstart into existence. There are other examples to be sure. But not many and mostly not very good.”
There is–but it’s all indie. In Lewis’s day, there was general market publishing and that’s it. Now, the market is divided between the CBA and the ABA. Anything at all Christian in nature is told to go to the CBA, but get all weird with space travel or magic and such, and the door is slammed in your face over there. It has, imho, created a lack of gradient. So stories have to be either overt (CBA) or really, really subtle (ABA) so neither is stepping on the other’s toes. But indie presses are popping up in attempt at filling that gradient–spec-fic authors not wanting to write preachy CBA stories, but wanting more freedom to explore faith issues within their stories/worlds.
Richard Lee Byers on February 25, 2013
David, you make a good point about Lewis, although logically, it obliges us to call new stories about pyramid power, tea-leaf reading, the Earth actually being flat, the Tooth Fairy, or pretty much any damn thing SF so long as the author believes he’s dealing in plausible science. I wince at that, but maybe I shouldn’t.
As far as most SF readers being religious, is there actual data on the subject, or are you simply giving us your impression? (Either way, I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just curious.)
David Ellis on February 25, 2013
“I wince at that, but maybe I shouldn’t.”
I don’t. I just don’t expect it to be very good most the time. It’s probably harder to write good science fiction when your beliefs strongly indicate that you don’t respect science and the sort of rigorous reasoning it employs.
“As far as most SF readers being religious, is there actual data on the subject, or are you simply giving us your impression? (Either way, I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just curious.)”
I’m not aware of any statistics having been collected on the subject but since only 10% or so of Americans don’t believe in the supernatural it seems nearly inevitable. Since I’ve not seen any signficant tendency for the religious to avoid SF I’m pretty confident that they solidly outnumber non-theists among readers of science fiction.
As to readership in other countries, I don’t know. I was mostly thinking of American readers.
Richard Lee Byers on February 25, 2013
I recently heard someone say that in the US, we’re up to 25% of us not being religious. But obviously, even if that’s true, if there’s no difference in this regard between the overall US population and the population of YS SF fans, that would mean that religious SF fans are still in the majority.
I wonder if there isn’t a difference, though. Did you read Betsy Dornbusch’s essay from the start of Night Bazaar religion week? She discussed her perception that anti-religious prejudice is pretty much the norm in the world of SF.
David Ellis on February 25, 2013
“I recently heard someone say that in the US, we’re up to 25% of us not being religious.”
That number isn’t just atheists/agnostics. It includes the “spiritual but not religious” who believe in the supernatural but don’t affiliate with organized religion.
“She discussed her perception that anti-religious prejudice is pretty much the norm in the world of SF.”
I think there’s a higher percentage of atheists in SF fandom than the general population. And a vocal one. But I still think they’re outnumbered by a significant margin.
It does seem to be true that a disproportionate number of the best SF writers are nonbelievers in religion. Even there I’m not sure they’re a majority but I would agree the number is unusually high.
I wouldn’t characterize the view of most atheist writers and fans as an anti-religious prejudice though. Being opposed to taking things on faith is not a prejudice. It’s a disagreement with the religious about a fundamental aspect of one’s worldview.
Kat Heckenbach on February 28, 2013
As a Christian, I find this interesting. I never thought about an atheist writer struggling with what message he/she is sending by adding deities to a story.
I’m so used to it from the other side. As you said about the Harry Potter issue, “Such fears reflect a failure to comprehend what fantasy literature even is…” — and you’re right, that is something that has created a huge dividing line between Christian authors. Some feel that fiction must reflect scripture at all times, while others (my camp) believe there is a huge difference between the biblical definition of sorcery and waving a stick while saying wingardium leviosa
. Fiction is, well, fiction. It’s a place to say, “what if” and to entertain and to find adventure and to wrestle with inner conflict. And there should always be dragons 
.
Anyway, I think it’s really cool to see that both sides deal with similar issues, and I appreciate your thoughts on this.
Richard Lee Byers on February 28, 2013
Thanks, Kat. I’m glad you found it worthwhile.
Mark Daniel Proulx on March 1, 2013
One of my favorite reads of all time is “Letters from the Earth” by Mark Twain. In it, he proposes that Lucifer is actually the Lord’s vanguard, checking out this little planet called Earth and roasting us for the weird stuff we do as human beings. The best part of SF/F is that we get a chance to make social commentary on what we see is hypocritical in ourselves and find a way to put it out there in an entertaining way. Even theologians can’t claim that humans aren’t flawed. Even the devout cannot claim moral perfection. Priests are flawed and give into carnal pleasures. Truth. Now, find an entertaining way to explain that we are prone to error and making personal mistakes, and you will always find some hard liner that will be offended.
Tough.
Those that cannot or will not accept that we have a LONG way to go before humans will know the “truth,” may be the most offended. Those that are – and are vocal about it – I call “marketing.” LOL Even Mark Twain’s Letters were banned at one point in time…
And kudos to Kat above for at least accepting the possibility that SF/F writers struggle with much the same issues as “the other side.” Honestly, why do you think we write about issues like this? We’re in the dark as much as anyone…I mean, when was the last time God (or A god) announced himself publicly, dispelling all doubts about who is right?
Richard Lee Byers on March 1, 2013
Mark, I am definitely a guy who from time to time questions his own doubt, so to speak. I can’t see any evidence for the existence of the Divine, so as a rationalist and empiricist, I have to reject that proposition. But at the same time, I’m aware that I’m just a human being of the early 21st Century, and my ability to perceive and comprehend existence is limited. Perhaps there is a transcendent consciousness present in the universe, and I’m just too blind or ignorant to recognize It.
But I think every other human being since the beginning of time has been in the same boat, and that’s why I’m even more skeptical about our religious notions than I am about the possibility that the Divine is out there. I suspect that if It is, and we become capable of perceiving It, It’ll turn out to be vastly different than anything we ever imagined.
Which is another idea implicit in Lovecraft’s work and another reason I find it so interesting.