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Sci-Fi Snobs and Where to Find Them: Why I Don't Pronounce it "Skiffy"

You can have a lot more fun when you’re not focusing on how uncool everyone else is.

By Sarah QuinnPublished 7 years ago 5 min read
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This guy is not having enough fun. 

A few weeks ago I read a book to my kids called Nerdy Birdy. I first grabbed it off the shelf because, I thought to myself, I’m a nerd! Totally my thing. The plot was pretty much what I expected - at first. Nerdy Birdy is a dweeby little guy with a bird seed allergy. He likes reading, video games, and reading about video games, which immediately disqualifies him for membership in the cool crowd. When he's at his lowest point, Nerdy Birdy meets a flock just like him. Now he has friends and is furthermore amazed to discover that there are far more nerdy birdies than cool birdies in the sky.

This would be an unsurprising end to the story. Wisely, the author didn’t stop here. Soon after Nerdy Birdy gets with his new nerdy crowd, an awkward bird shows up who’s definitely not cool...and definitely not “nerdy” either. She doesn’t wear glasses, she doesn’t play video games - she just doesn’t fit in anywhere. Nerdy Bird is foolish enough to invite her to join the nerdy group, but his cronies quickly set him straight. “She’s not a nerdy birdy! She’s just...weird.”

You can see the hypocrisy here and guess where the book ends up. Nerdy Birdy, pondering his past rejection from the in crowd, decides to sacrifice his friendship with the nerdy flock to be friends with the awkward new bird. It’s the “right thing to do,” or at least we can presume that’s what the author’s trying to preach, and I think it’s a message that hits pretty close to home for the nerd/geek community. Now that the internet and conventions have made finding our tribe almost too easy, even the nerdiest among us can feel that we are among friends with our obsessive interests in whatever it is that we geek out about. For the most part, this is a remarkable boon. As someone who had a textbook nerdy childhood and adolescence, complete with drama club and getting food catapulted at me in my high school cafeteria, I’m extremely grateful not to feel quite so alone in the world.

What’s alarming is when nerdy birdies forget the pain of exclusion and, like the vengeful villains of superhero movies, take their revenge on the world by looking down their noses at anyone they deem too weak and foolish to even be worth a conversation. Case in point: the absurd debate about whether or not Star Wars, Star Trek, and similar space opera epics get to be classified as “science fiction,” "speculative fiction," "sci-fi" or something else entirely.

The History of Science Fiction

Ok, let me back up, because for many of us, that was probably confusing. “What do ya mean, is Star Wars science fiction?” you’re asking. I know! I was once blissfully ignorant that people get upset about these things, and then I read a few internet message boards and I discovered that there are not a few people who believe this: if it’s worth reading or watching, it’s “speculative fiction,” abbreviated as “SF” and inclusive of only the most highbrow, hard “science fiction” on the level of Asimov, Lovecraft, and the like. If it’s a tale set in space that could, with some quick changes to costume and setting, be placed in the American West or medieval England or pretty much any other time and place, then it’s “sci-fi.” And, get this, pronounced as “skiffy.” Like Jiffy. Like something you spread on a sandwich instead of something worthy.

Now, to be fair, back in the 70s, critics were using “sci-fi” to call out the “bad” science fiction movies (low quality B-movies, for the most part) and distinguish them from what they considered serious work. “Serious” writers and fans didn’t read or watch “sci-fi” and perhaps they felt a pressing need to prove themselves in a world that didn’t take their genre seriously. “We’re not with THOSE people,” they seem to have been saying. “We are a legitimate intellectual genre with a highly philosophical, thoughtful way of exploring the world through speculative fiction.” Now that a younger generation, myself included, is more savvy about what it means to be a geek (and that it’s certainly not just one stereotypical thing), it may be less necessary to worry about perception than it once was. There’s progress to be made, but as Lyda Morehouse says, “...the use of “sci-fi” no longer stigmatizes the user as a “mundane” (non-initiate into science fiction fandom/prodom).” (Read the comments on her article, which you’ll find at that link, for an interesting look at how incredibly variant these labels are.) As I see it, using insider terminology is isolating. Rather than encouraging a mainstream audience to take science fiction or speculative fiction seriously, it removes it another level from our shared consciousness.

You can like Phase IV. It's ok.

The whole premise of being so concerned with these labels is disturbing, because it suggests that some subgenres of what the uninitiated consider “science fiction” or “fantasy” are simply garbage. There’s the stuff that WE like, and then there’s what YOU like, and what YOU like isn’t cool. Sound familiar? Oh yeah, that’s right, it’s exactly like when that girl found out that you were one of “those Dungeons and Dragons weirdos” and wouldn’t think twice about going out with you. Let me be clear - I’m happy to hear an intellectual discussion of the differences between I, Robot and Wrath of Khan. It’s fascinating to ponder setting Return of the Jedi on a tropical island (you probably wouldn’t have to change that much, to be honest). But these are mere distinctions in genre; they should never be the basis for scoffing at someone’s favorite “sci-fi” series or stroking your own ego because you can pronounce Cthulu correctly and nobody else can. And what if someone LOVES those “terrible” 70s B-movies? Does that mean they don’t get to sit on the nerdy birdy telephone wire?

See? Even Heinlein agrees.

In the end it’s all kind of like eating dessert. Some healthy folks get really, really self-righteous about how THEIR raw paleo cake only includes honey, or dates, or agave nectar as a sweetener instead of the high fructose corn syrup in your Oreos. But that’s ridiculous. Your body doesn’t need cake and cookies at all. We eat them because sugar tastes good, and it’s fun to eat when you’re celebrating (or just watching Battlestar Galactica - whichever). If you like eating a raw paleo cake made with dates, that’s awesome, and you are a baking rock star, and I admire you. But I am not going to feel bad over here about dunking my Oreos in my milk and enjoying every minute. Dessert is good. Science fiction, or speculative fiction, or SF or “skiffy” or space opera or whatever you call your favorite movie or book - they are all incredible ways to tell stories about our shared humanity. Let’s focus more on that and less on how to define sub genres. It’ll just give us more time to watch and read what we love most - and more time to share what we love with those who are still searching for their tribe.

intellectscience fictionscifi moviescifi tvstar trekstar wars
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About the Creator

Sarah Quinn

I'm a writer in love with India, Stars Wars, fantasy, travel, and Thai curries. My childhood heroes were Luke Skywalker and Joan of Arc. I muse on superheroes, sci-fi, feminism, and more.

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