Mainstream Appropriation

Cyberpunk—like the punk ethic with which it was identified—was a response to postmodern reality that could go only so far before self-destructing under the weight of its own deconstructive activities (not to mention its appropriation by more conventional and more commercial writers).

Veronica Hollinger in “Cybernetic Deconstructions: Cyberpunk and Postmodernism” ¹

It was bound to happen eventually. Like most counterculture movements, Cyberpunk hit a wall in the mid-90s and began to fade into what some might call obscurity. Even Bruce Sterling eventually acknowledged the defeat of Cyberpunk writing “Today, it must be admitted that the cyberpunks…are no longer a Bohemian underground. This too is an old story in Bohemia; it is the standard punishment for success. An underground in the light of day is a contradiction in terms. Respectability does not merely beckon; it actively envelops. And in this sense, “cyberpunk” is even deader...”¹

Despite the dreary outlook, there’s both good news and bad news. Good news: Cyberpunk is still alive and well—flourishing even. Bad News: much of what was once a high energy stick-it-to-the-man movement, has begun to absorbed and watered down by mainstream pop-culture. While the greats of the Cyberpunk generation are still well-read and loved in die-hard fan-circles, the masses knowledge of Cyberpunk comes from the way the genre has taken the back-door to plant itself on the motherboard of popular television and fiction markets.  

So, what exactly happens when the counterculture becomes mainstream? Other than the hipster paradox (when counterculture becomes “popular”), themes and motifs get toned down and distributed. Two ways we see this happening in the contemporary market is through the now dwindling popularity of the dystopia in the YA market, and the now increasing popularity of SF retellings of fairy tales, folklore, and canonical literature.

The YA Dystopia Market:

In 2008 with the publication of Suzanne Collins The Hunger Games, dystopia blew up the YA market. Soon after, there was a steep climb in popularity for books that dabbled in the post-apocalyptic and dystopic narrative (Veronica Roth’s Divergent, Marie Lu’s Legend, James Dashner’s The Maze Runner, etc.). Not long after in 2012 the movie-machine latched on to the popularity of these books and started adapting like crazy. Now that we’re in the denouement of this trend (Did anyone actually go see Allegiant?), it is the perfect time to examine why exactly these stories might have hit it big.

Part of the major draw for books like these is not only the futuristic setting, or traditional SF elements, but the way the book reflects the social climate of the time. Much like the Cyberpunks, YA dystopias often focus on futuristic or alternate versions of America and seek to point out issues in social and political structures that hit way too close to home for comfort. I cannot be the only person who kept trying to figure out what district of Panem their home state was a part of. Aside from that, many YA dystopias are distinctly anti-consumerist, bordering on anti-capitalist, (unlike their dystopian predecessors like Orwell and Huxley who targeted socialism and communism). They are highly critical of big corporations as well as the effects of increasing dependence of humans on technology. For instance, you spend practically the entire length of The Maze Runner trilogy in serious doubt of the ominous statement on the wall "WICKED is good." The only thing stopping these books from starting a true-blue counter movement themselves is the large-scale mass-media acceptance.

So, if these books are so radical, why market to the kiddos? That too is a trick picked up from Cyberpunk. Want to sell radical ideas? The impressionable youth are the ones to target. This is necessarily a bad thing (although I admit it sounds negative). Youth markets tend to be both more open-minded and more susceptible to trends. Now, I said this stems from cyberpunk because Cyberpunk was a SF movement explicitly aware of their market. They make books that could be read and enjoyed by the every(wo)man. This is part of the reason their protagonists are largely lower-class, marginalized characters who need to fight their way to respect and enfranchisement. Now ask yourself one question: who feels more like the entire world is against them than a teenager? Writing narratives that star adolescent characters empowers youth readers and encourages them to fight for what they believe in, in a sense, making punks out of them all.

SF Retellings:

Where dystopias are keeping the kick-ass attitude of the Cyberpunks alive and well in contemporary fiction, SF retellings of classic stories have kept up some of the more aesthetic appeal of Cyberpunk.

Marissa Meyer’s Cinder (and the following books in the series), adapts classic fairy tales into heart racing SF adventures. One of the themes throughout the book is how Cinder, a cyborg, struggles with her humanity. Similarly Iko, an android with a faulty AI chip, longs to look human on the outside and displays several characteristics that are incredibly strange for a piece of tech. The let’s add SF to this tory train doesn’t stop here either. Jeff Noon’s Automated Alice takes a steampunk twist on Carroll’s classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, tossing Alice through time to a future full of Newmonians (creatures half one thing and half another). Can you say genetic manipulation? If you can, you must also be thinking Cyberpunk.  

At the end of the day, even though Cyberpunk (according to critics) died out in the 90s, contemporary dystopias channel the “low-life” of Cyberpunk, while SF retellings are bringing back to life the “high-tech” aspect. Now all we need is something that combines them both.

 Read any contemporary work you feel owes homage to Cyberpunk? Comment below and let me know what you think!

Notes:

1 Graham J. Murphy and Sherryl Vint, “Introduction: The Sea Change(s),” Beyond Cyberpunk: New Critical Perspectives, Routledge (New York: 2010).