At this time last year, a student asked me to work with him on a creative-writing honors project focusing on dystopic fiction.
“Oh, I teach a class on dystopia and utopia,” I said.
“Utopia?” he replied. “What’s that? It sounds boring.”
The last few waves of young adults have cut their teeth on post-apocalyptic dystopias, plenty caused by viruses that got out of control. Their imagined dystopias are plagued with zombie attacks and tribal raids, magical armies of cool creatures with magical powers, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, going toe-to-toe, using technologically stunning killing machines that spurt blood of many colors in all directions.
For these kids, our current dystopia must be eye-openingly, eye-droopingly, disappointing.
Not wearing face masks? Not using sanitizer? Wiping surfaces?
Sounds more like death by parental nagging than trilogy-worthy drama. Who guessed dystopia could be so dull? People are baking, doing dining-room chair calisthenics, doing the same, damn work and schoolwork.
Of course, it’s only the lucky ones who have the privilege of boredom. Those scraping to find food, or care for the sick and dying, prepping for the bodies to come, those restacking shelves and delivering meals to the quarantined, well, as any writer knows, conflict makes drama.
So maybe my student is right after all, utopia is dull. But for the vast majority, so is dystopia. And aren’t we lucky to be bored.
Still, that student went on to write some pretty fun dystopic stories, one of which went on to win our college’s highest creative–writing award. Oh, yeah, that story is about a world isolated due to a virus; spoiler-alert, the heroine longs for escape. KLB
Today’s postings: STUDENT WINDOWS