Unquenchable Fire

One of the strangest SF works I've read. Source: Here

“By its own reality, ecstasy makes people see that suffering is real. And without purpose. Ecstasy is a light that illuminates pain.”

This is a strange book, even for me. What I find so perplexing is just how to classify it, not fitting so neatly into either science fiction or fantasy, or even a blend of both. Yet I can't deny it left an impression with just how different it was from my conventional fare.

Usually science fiction deals with future worlds radically changed by science, future technologies plausible or fantastical and the reaction of human beings to the changes in and facilitated by science and technology. The question is: how do you categorise a book where science has been spurned?

Unquenchable Fire was first published in 1988 by Rachel Pollack. Set in a not-too distant future America, the forces of science and technology have been overthrown and replaced by spiritualism and magic. Many decades ago a group called the Founders led this revolution, establishing the system of magic and storytelling that by the book's time has become commonplace, typified by their Pictures - a series of sacred stories - and their respective meanings. Magic is no longer the domain of select individuals but instead employed regularly by government bodies and agencies (for example, the existence of an agency that interprets dreams for individuals).

Spiritual rites and sacrifices loom over every aspect of this world, particularly when concerning the Tellers - magical storytellers who hold the power to transport listeners inside the Pictures they recite. Yet many years after the Founders' advances, there is a sense that these rituals are no longer conducted out of a sense of true veneration, but merely as grudging obligation and as a part of keeping up appearances. Magic is all-too commonplace, rendered mundane by a choking bureaucracy. Even the Tellers themselves appear to be going through the motions.

The story is centered around Jennifer Mazdan, an employee of the Energy Board in Poughkeepsie, New York who falls asleep on the same day as a key recital from a Teller. She awakes from this sleep pregnant with a new Messiah destined to finish the Revolution that the Founders started. In the hands of a less adept writer it brings to mind the weary trope of the mystical pregnancy, that robs a female character of any sort of agency over their predicament for the sake of plot but I'm happy to report that this isn't the case here. The novel spends much time with Mazdan and explores her reaction and inner psychology to a destiny forced on her against her will; it's unafraid to refer to what happened as a violation of her.

Try as she might, it's very difficult to go against the will of the higher power who ordained you with this destiny. When she tried to enter an abortion clinic to terminate the pregnancy, trees sprout up in front of her to bar her entry. I didn't interpret this scene as being anti-abortion or emblematic of some wider worldview of the author, but rather a repetition of my earlier sentiment - what can you do when your own desires and wishes clash against those of a supreme deity with its own plans in store for individuals? It's not an easy question to answer, if it can be answered at all.

One really key theme running through the book whose exploration I enjoyed was the clash between true spirituality and those who only pretend to practice it. In the time of the book's narrative, there is a sense that the teachings of the Founders are taken for granted, that rather than people truly engaging in religious practice they only participate out of a sense of routine or to keep up appearances. Throughout the book, Mazdan clashes with her neighbours over being seen to "abandon" the sacred rituals and ceremonies - the irony being that they're so concerned over seeming devout and faithful that they completely miss the gestating Messiah inside Mazdan!

An aspect which I initially found disorienting was the presence of miracles made mundane. By their very nature, miracles are divine acts overriding natural cause and effect so of course they're not going to make sense. Even with the magic being made everyday it's no less unnerving, particularly in one scene with a Maligant One - a type of evil spirit that can possess hosts - that still brings me shivers.

The key theme that really stuck with me was the idea of storytelling; namely what the purpose of story is and how it can change us. Stories are used as devices to entertain and delight but they can also warn - one of the central Pictures discovered by one of the Founders is termed The Place Inside, discontinued for public rituals because of the negative effects it had on audiences with its images of death and destruction. Yet it serves as an example that stories can be used to confront hard truths and change our behaviours for the better, and in fact The Place Inside links to Mazdan's dream and the destiny of her child to ultimately help humanity rekindle a true spiritual connection.

It's weighty stuff, and it almost feels like the book could have used some more pages to further explore and clarify these themes. There were sections of the book devoted to myth-telling that I for the life of me couldn't fully wrap my head around, though whether that was an intentional result or simply me being unfamiliar with the context behind them I don't know. On the whole though I really enjoyed reading this book, just for it being so different and diverse from the science fiction I traditionally read. It's a book anyone interested in the interplay between faith and individuals would rightfully enjoy.