My Favorite Lesser-Known Dystopian Novels

An upside of social distancing is that we have time to read.
Of course, most bookstores and libraries are closed right now. To me, that in
and of itself is a horror story!

Yet, even if you don’t own a Kindle, you can download a
Kindle app for free. Many libraries are making it easy to borrow digital books
during the crisis. Amazon is still just a click away and ready to deliver books
for your Kindle app, or, if you prefer, on Audible.

Recent events, including but not limited to the global
pandemic, have sparked much speculation of our future, and the chilling tales
fiction writers have told about what could lie ahead.

I’ve always loved dystopian novels, although I only learned
the word ‘dystopian’ in the past few years. I always called the genre ‘Future
Doom and Gloom.’ I believe I stole that term from one of my favorite roommates,
back in the day. She used the term to describe movies like Mad Max and The
Terminator.

We are all familiar with new instant classics like The
Hunger Games trilogy, as well as older, well-loved classics like Brave
New World, Fahrenheit 451, and 1984.

The 1980s brought us some great dystopian fiction written by
women. The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood, has become more famous
than ever because of the terrifying and poignant Hulu series. There was another
great lesser-known feminist dystopian novel that emerged from the 1980s. Have
you read The Gate to Women’s Country, by Sheri S. Tepper? This
post-apocalyptic tome supposes a matriarchy rising out of a nuclear war, and a
culture that separates men from women in an effort to curb violent tendencies.

Some of my favorite dystopian novels could also be
considered feminist novels, like The Handmaid’s Tale and the Gate to
Women’s Country. I recently discovered that one of my most formative
feminist Pagan writers, Starhawk, is also a novelist.

Her dystopian stories, The Fifth Sacred Thing, its
sequel, ‘City of Refuge’, and prequel, ‘Walking to Mercury’
create a terrifyingly believable future world. Yet, they are uplifting and
hopeful, because they also share a vision of the sustainable world we could
still create.

This is equally true for one of my favorite books ever, Woman
on the Edge of Time, by author Marge Piercy. Published in 1976, this story
features a radical future vision for sustainability and equality, while
blatantly pointing out the obvious errors of our own time, known in this future
as “The Age of Greed and Waste”.

Almost twenty years later, Marge Piercy wrote a less hopeful but highly entertaining dystopian novel about a love affair between an android and a human woman, set in a future where pollution and climate change have ravaged the land, and corporations have become the government. She, He and
It was published in 1991, and has been described as a ‘cypberpunk novel’.

We all remember Ira Levin as the brilliant author of Rosemary’s
Baby. In my opinion, that well-loved story pales in comparison to Levin’s
dystopian novel, This Perfect Day, published in 1970.

The future world of This Perfect Day has no war and
no crime. Even the weather is regulated, all thanks to UniComp, a giant
computer which controls all aspects of life.

In these difficult times, dystopian fiction can comfort us
as we realize that, by comparison, things in real life aren’t all that bad yet.
Dystopian fiction can scare us with the similarities we see to life as we
currently know it. And, because most dystopian tales are stories of resistance
and survival, these views of our imagined future can serve to give us hope in
difficult times.

A Small Messaging Problem with the Wonderful Tree Change Dolls

By Robert Bejil from Bakersfield, Ca, USA (Darnah 01) [CC BY 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Unless you live under a rock, one of the things that may have grabbed your attention on social media this week is the “Tree Change Dolls.” I know they grabbed mine.

“Tree Changes Dolls” are the brainchild of a family in Tasmania. The concept, as written on their Tumblr and Etsy sites, is simple.

The family combs local thrift shops and finds discarded fashion dolls. They give the dolls a more natural-looking make-over and sell each as a unique work of art, and as an improved toy for young girls.

The before-and-after pics of the dolls that are circulating the internet really highlight the vision and creativity behind the Tree Change Dolls.

I love upcycling, I love creativity and I love entrepreneurs. I love overnight social media success stories, like this one. One would think I would be completely in love with the Tree Change Dolls. The parenting world, and the feminist world, are lauding the Tree Change Dolls as a positive alternative for young girls.

I understand all that, and I appreciate it. However, for me, there is something a wee bit disturbing about the subtle marketing message of these dolls. Even more disturbing is the fact that few people seem to be seeing this message as questionable.

The vast majority of the dolls who get to become Tree Change Dolls are Bratz dolls. Bratz dolls have glitzy urban clothes and lots of makeup.

The “Tree Change” process takes the makeup off the dolls, and puts them in dowdy clothes. Now, apparently, according to the marketing, these dolls are able to play and explore and live in ways that their makeup and clothing prevented them previously.

Most folks agree that the Tree Change Dolls are a lot cuter than the original Bratz. Many parents dislike Bratz, feeling they promote a certain attitude that is undesirable in young girls. I find all fashion dolls a bit questionable, and wonder why Bratz earns the ire of parents who are happy to feed their daughters a constant diet of Barbie and Disney.  I’d take a sassy Bratz over a dishwater Disney Princess any day, and wonder if all the Bratz-hate is rooted anti-urban racism and classism.

As a child, I would have loved a cute Tree Change Doll much more than any fashion doll. As an adult, I, like many, have been concerned by the lack of ethnic diversity available in dolls, and the unrealistic expectations that fashion dolls like Barbie might create among young girls.

At the same time, taking the makeup and snazzy clothes off Bratz dolls and promoting the changes as wholesome improvements also sends an undesirable message.

In a way, this message is just as limiting to young girls as fashion dolls are.

Why can’t a person wear makeup and fashionable clothes and still be smart, athletic and fun?  Why can’t a fashionable urban girl love nature? Why does taking the makeup off a doll somehow make that doll more wholesome, more spiritual, more intelligent or more appropriate?

I really appreciate the creativity and talent behind the Tree Change Dolls. What I don’t appreciate is this subtle slut-shaming message.

To me, this message smacks of blaming the high heels, short skirt and lipstick for the rape. “If only the woman had been dressed more appropriately she would never have been attacked. She was asking for it!”

I recognize these dolls come from a different country than I do, and that I might not fully understand the cultural implications from an Australian perspective.

I also know that concern about how women dress themselves is an international issue of extreme political importance, unfortunately.

Like many people who love the Tree Change Dolls, I am concerned about the message that fashion dolls send to young girls. Unlike many people, I am also a bit concerned about this aspect of the message sent by Tree Change Dolls.

Women must be free to dress the way they want, without the judgment of others. Neither fashion dolls nor anti-fashion dolls really promote the idea that women get to choose how they present themselves.

The problem comes from the culturally-acceptable-but-truly-heinous idea that it is fine to judge a woman’s character, talent, intelligence and moral standing based on her outfit and makeup.

I’m not expecting a small family with a brilliant suddenly-booming cottage industry to change the world any more than they already are.  I think the Tree Change Dolls are inspired and lovely, and I wish them much success.

At the same time, I also wish they would stop suggesting that women who enjoy makeup and fashion are somehow less appropriate than women who don’t. To me, that seems a slippery slope toward legally-enforced fashion choices.

Women in many parts of the world are legally required to dress in certain ways. Don’t we make room for the attitude that demands that kind of subjugation when we judge women’s characters based on their clothes and makeup?