How Chinese science fiction went from underground magazines to Netflix extravaganza

How Chinese science fiction went from underground magazines to Netflix extravaganza

In October 2023, Chengdu, China was the center of the sci-fi universe as it played host to Worldcon, the largest annual event for science fiction. Fans from all over the globe flocked to the event, making it the first time for China to hold such a prestigious gathering.

This was a unique occasion where fans from China and around the world could come together and appreciate the arts without concerns about the complex political dynamics between China and the West, or the strict control of expression in Beijing.

Tao Bolin, a Chinese influencer from Guangdong, was among many excited fans who flew to the event. It marked a significant moment where Chinese literature was recognized and appreciated on a global scale. The event took place in a stunning Science Fiction Museum, crafted by the renowned Zaha Hadid Architects, with a unique design resembling a colossal steel starburst hovering above a tranquil lake.

However, after a period of three months, the positive attitudes were overshadowed by a scandal involving accusations that those in charge of the Hugo Awards – the most prestigious award in science fiction, presented at Worldcon – had disqualified certain nominees in order to appease Chinese authorities.

Reworded: The event highlighted the conflicting challenges that Chinese sci-fi has confronted over the years. In the span of 40 years, it has evolved from a politically controversial genre to becoming one of China’s most triumphant cultural products, with writer Liu Cixin gaining worldwide popularity, including among notable figures such as Barack Obama and Mark Zuckerberg. However, it has also had to navigate barriers caused by global politics during this entire period.

The upcoming Netflix adaptation of “The Three-Body Problem” has a large budget and is set to release in March. The show is being produced by the same creators as “Game of Thrones,” potentially bringing Chinese science fiction to its widest audience yet.

Over several decades, committed writers, editors, and cultural officials put in significant effort to achieve their belief in the power of science fiction to unite people.

Yao Haijun, the editor-in-chief of China’s oldest sci-fi magazine, Science Fiction World, believes that sci-fi serves as a connection between various cultures and nations. He emphasizes the idea that each author has the freedom to imagine their own version of the future, and their works can peacefully coexist and be appreciated, even if they differ from one another.

Chinese sci-fi’s journey abroad started with another convention in Chengdu three decades ago, but politics nearly derailed that one before it could get off the ground.

The organizers of Science Fiction World magazine intended to hold a convention for writers in a city famous for its preservation of pandas and alternative outlook in 1991. However, with reports of the violent suppression of student demonstrations in Tiananmen Square spreading worldwide in 1989, many international speakers withdrew from the event.

A delegation was sent by the magazine to Worldcon 1990, which was held in The Hague, in order to rescue the conference.

The head of the group was Shen Zaiwang, a translator for the Foreign Affairs Department in Sichuan province. Shen developed a passion for science fiction at a young age, particularly after reading works by Jules Verne such as “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.” He prepared for the lengthy train journey across China and the Soviet Union by bringing along instant noodles.

In The Hague, Shen and former editor of a magazine, Yang Xiao, utilized toy pandas and postcards featuring Chengdu to demonstrate that the city, which is over 1,800 kilometers (1,000 miles) away from Beijing, is welcoming and secure for tourists.

Shen expressed that our province is a secure destination and hopes that foreign science fiction authors will visit and inspire Chinese youth to delve into science fiction literature.

Ultimately, twelve international writers participated in the conference. Although modest, it exceeded expectations from a few years prior.

Chinese science fiction has been met with skepticism in its own country for many years.

From the early 1900s to the mid-20th century, there was a resurgence of interest in the genre in China, influenced by advancements in technology and imported literature. This growth was halted during the Cultural Revolution, a chaotic ten-year period starting in 1966, when radical followers of Mao Zedong singled out “bourgeois” components, including scientific advancements and various types of literature.

Science fiction experienced a rejuvenation when China started to become more open to the global community in the late 1970s and early 1980s, following the Mao era. Writers such as Zheng Wenguang and Ye Yonglie produced works about space travel, coinciding with China’s emerging space program and its launch of initial satellites into space. Regional publications such as Chengdu’s Science Fiction World flourished.

However, during the early 1980s, the Chinese government launched a countrywide effort to eliminate “spiritual pollution” and suppress the impact of Western decadence. Science fiction, which was deemed as unscientific and conflicting with official ideology, faced severe criticism. As a result, numerous young publications were forced to cease operations.

Down in Chengdu, Science Fiction World’s editors kept going.

In 2017, editor Yao stated in a public speech that China recognized the importance of being an innovative nation and viewed science fiction as crucial for its development.

The magazine set out to change negative public perceptions about sci-fi. In 1997, six years after the Chengdu conference, it organized another international event in Beijing, headlined by American and Russian astronauts. The conference got attention in the Chinese press, giving sci-fi a cool new aura of innovation, exploration and imagination, Yao says. It also paved the way for an international liftoff.

China’s increasing interest in science fiction was leading to a high demand for translated literature from other countries. However, very little attention was being given to Chinese narratives from readers in foreign lands. Liu Cixin aimed to alter this trend.

An engineer with a gentle demeanor working at a power plant in the coal-rich province of Shanxi, his tales of grand engineering feats that could shift entire planets combined with moments of personal sensitivity were well-received by enthusiasts of the genre.

However, according to Yao, who served as editor for the novel, “The Three-Body Problem” achieved unprecedented popularity among Chinese works after it was serialised in Science Fiction World in 2006.

According to the founder of Eight Light Minutes Culture, Yang Feng, when the book was published, fans in Chengdu gathered and crowded the local bookstore. They surrounded the building, displaying signs that read “I love you, Liu Cixin!”

The government officials paid attention to the situation. The China Educational Publications Import & Export Corporation, a company controlled by the state that specializes in exporting publications, acquired the novel and its two follow-up books.

Unfortunately, the main storyline of the trilogy revolves around the negative repercussions of communicating with a far-off extraterrestrial civilization. The second installment, “The Dark Forest,” proposes the concept of the universe as a cutthroat battle for existence, where the key to survival is to remain concealed.

According to Joel Martinsen, the translations were always meant to be a significant cultural export from China to the international community, with a strong presence. However, the widespread acclaim and recognition received were beyond anyone’s expectations. In 2015, Liu made history as the first Asian writer to be awarded a Hugo Award for a novel.

“He had a unique, captivating style in his work, sometimes with a dark and unyielding tone,” states Song Mingwei, a Chinese literature professor at Wellesley College. “This left readers feeling impressed and intrigued.”

The writer Song commented that Liu effectively incorporated elements of both traditional Western genres and allusions to China’s tumultuous past. He also deemed the trilogy to be a “classic” at this point.

In the following year, Chinese writer Hao Jingfang won a Hugo Award for short fiction, surpassing Stephen King. The story, which was originally published on a university web forum, explores themes of social inequality in an alternative version of Beijing.

Liu’s interpretations also marked a pivotal moment for the genre in terms of politics: Within a span of 20 years, it had transformed from being barely accepted to becoming a main export of China’s official cultural industry.

The government promoted the development of a multimedia industry, including films, video games, publications, and exhibitions. In 2020, they established a research facility to monitor its growth. The box office success of a hit film based on Liu’s short story, “The Wandering Earth,” led to two sequels, but it received mixed reviews and limited distribution outside of the country.

The Worldcon in Chengdu was supposed to be the greatest accomplishment resulting from all of these endeavors.

Upon the reveal of the venue, several fans from abroad expressed discontent with the selection, citing concerns pertaining to human rights, censorship, and the fairness of the voting procedure.

The occasion was considered a triumph.

In January, after the Hugo committee revealed the voting numbers, the doubts of the critics were validated. It was discovered that multiple nominees had been deemed ineligible, leading to worries about censorship. Among those disqualified were best-selling authors R. F. Kuang and Xiran Jay Zhao, both known for their politically engaged writing and connections to China.

An investigation by two sci-fi authors and journalists revealed that leaked internal emails, which could not be independently verified, indicated that the awards committee reviewed nominees’ works and social media accounts in search of potentially offensive statements towards Beijing. Reports on these findings were allegedly shared with Chinese officials, but it is unclear how they were used or who ultimately made the decision to disqualify nominees.

The AP’s requests for comment from the organizers of the Hugo awards went unanswered.

In the past, Liu has been involved in controversial situations. In a 2019 interview with The New Yorker, he received criticism for defending the Chinese government’s harsh treatment of the Uyghur minority in Xinjiang. As a result, there have been demands for Netflix to cancel the show. Despite attempts to reach out, Netflix has not responded to queries from the AP via email.

Although there may be challenges, Chinese science fiction is expected to keep growing in popularity worldwide. The upcoming Netflix adaptation of “The Three-Body Problem” has the potential to introduce it to a much larger audience, surpassing the impact of Shen Zaiwang’s trip to The Hague.

Song and Yao, who are knowledgeable about the genre, are anticipating the emergence of a new wave of Chinese science fiction writers whose works are currently being translated into English.

Younger, female writers who have studied abroad, such as Regina Kanyu Wang and Tang Fei, lead the movement. According to Song, their writings tackle topics that strike a chord with the younger generation, such as gender identity and environmental issues.

“When receiving support from the market or government, creativity can diminish rapidly,” Song states. “I believe the most crucial developments occur on the outskirts.”

Yao still holds the belief that science fiction has the ability to bring cultures together, even during turbulent periods.

He stated that as long as there is communication, there will be things that we have in common that we can find.

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This report was contributed to by Wanqing Chen, an AP researcher.

Source: wral.com