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[personal profile] hazelk
Been reflecting on [livejournal.com profile] rahirah’s post on mothers, or the lack thereof, in fanfic and fantasy. I don’t read enough of either to pronounce on the topic but her main point has the ring of truth. In both forms children tend to be used as symbolic devices rather than to represent motherhood as actual mothers experience it. Someone in the comments raised BSG as a possible counter example, which I’d like to explore.


I’m sure I remember articles discussing how motherhood remains unwritten in literary fiction as well as in genre’s like fantasy. Despite being a formative experience for many writers, unlike sex or violence or death it doesn’t seem to be associated with any recognisable literary category, it’s not one of the seven, twenty, thirty six or sixty nine basic plots, not a stage of the hero’s journey.

Possibly it’s not a narrative experience, not easily expressed through stuff happening in the way the usual suspects are. Failing tragically, seeking vengeance, being redeemed they each have a clear beginning, middle and end. Motherhood has a beginning but in some ways, once the birth part is over, it’s more like depression, it creeps up you. The repetition, the distraction, the sleeplessness, the constant waiting, the inexplicable joy. It’s immersive, about being not doing. Hard to convey on the page and not read like one of those interminable people at a parent’s group listing out the minutiae of their offspring’s every breath and bowel movement.

Just as it’s possible to ground a story about alienation or depression by having your protagonist turn into a giant cockroach or be ripped out of heaven motherhood may be a story that needs an overarching metaphor more than a plot. I think that’s why it seems to work on BSG. It’s a war story set in space, not the most promising of premises admittedly but space can have many meanings. The final frontier, the place where gods and star-children lie waiting to be worshipped, the skies that no-one can take from you, the black where no-one can hear you scream. Space on BSG has the look of a giant fallopian tube through which ships swim frantically in search of the big one and planets hang like ova. Together with the near genocide making reproduction an absolute necessity for the humans and a religion for the Cylons provides a backdrop that strips the baby storylines of their familiar soapy trappings. Sharon’s reaction to the loss of her daughter, her utter ruthlessness given the chance to take her back exposes mother love as a great white shark of an emotion, the dramatic equal of any.

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hazelk

May 2012

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