When Octavia Cade first proposed this topic to me - what happens to economic predators in a post-capitalist society? - I was intrigued. I’ve watched my share of Star Trek, and read my share of utopian literature (which is not automatically post-capitalist), and done my share of fuming against capitalist strictures. But I hadn’t ever given thought to the question of what happens after capitalism to those people who have exploited it to the hilt, or who would if they could. Are they only a product of their society, and therefore not going to be a problem when the conditions don’t exist? Or will there always be people looking to take advantage, have more, and be generally exploitative? (I know what my answer to that question is.)

And so, Cade’s essay: it ranges from how humans treat polar bears to a novel and novella that confront human predators. It’s provocative and challenging, and I hope it gets you thinking.

I have been a fan of Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels for a very long time now, as have many millions of readers around the world. It always delights me to find the new and interesting and subversive things that he is accomplishing in his work: I never cease to be amused by the band names in Soul Music, and the Vietnam War-movie references in Monstrous Regiment (plus just the title and historical references of the entire book) make me giddy with joy.

Tansy Rayner Roberts’ essays on Pratchett’s Women were another revelation when, several years ago, she published them over a series of months. When I mentioned this journal to her, and she almost off-handedly mentioned her notes for a series of essays on Pratchett’s Men, I absolutely made grabby hands. I think I managed to say “gimme” in a more professional manner, but it was a close-run thing. And so, today’s essay is the first in a series from Tansy, looking at how Pratchett portrays some of his men, and how they relate to the women in the books. We start with a witches book…

I don’t mind a fairy tale, but even more than the traditional ones (a dubious and slippery term in itself), I love the re-imaginings and fracturings and reversals that have been published over the last few decades. Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling’s Troll’s Eye View, from 2009, with tales from the “villain’s” perspective - and 30 years before that Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber - and then there’s the sublime Sourdough and Other Stories, and all of its later connected parts by Angela Slatter, whose stories feel like they should be familiar but they’re not.

Today’s subscriber essay looks at what a fairy tale is, some of their history, and a suggestion for why humans still tell them.

The question of what bits of the ‘real’ world to take into science fiction, and whether or how to make them the same or different, is a fascinating one. Personally, I hate coffee, so when I see people drinking it and complaining about it in space (looking at you, Jim Holden), I can’t relate. Tea, though - that’s something I drink. And so when Breq, in Ancillary Justice, talks about it being a fundamental drink for her people: that’s familiar but also not. And the history of tea, of course, is inherently tied to the history of tea. And so in today’s essay, Kemi Ashing-Giwa looks at both of those things, and how she brought both tea and empire into space in her debut novel, The Splinter in the Sky. If you’re somewhere cold right now, read it with a cup of tea! … not me though: it’s going to be over 30C here today.

Martha Wells’ Murderbot series is one of my favourite new series of books from the last few years. I love everything about them: I love Murderbot, and how breathtakingly relatable it is while resolutely refusing to be human; I love the relationship between Murderbot and ART; I love the intricate development of the in-world shows that Murderbot would prefer to spend all of its time watching, rather than having to deal with humans (urgh; also, relatable). I don’t love the universe it’s set in, because “the Corporation Rim” is a deeply unpleasant place and also all too believable - but I do love the way Wells deftly captures what it’s like, and how some on the edges might refuse to participate.

All of which is to say our first subscriber essay, from Joanne Anderton, is an absolute delight for me, because Anderton looks at Murderbot and its emotions over the whole seven-book (so far?!) arc, and what that tells us about ourselves as well as about Murderbot. As someone who rewatches and rereads their favourites a lot (I just finished Ann Beckie’s Ancillary Justice for the 8th time), and who enjoys binging tv, this absolutely hit home.

And if you haven’t yet read Murderbot, don’t worry! I think you’ll still get a lot out of the essay… not least the desire to go read the books… .

Our first essay is now live: Cheryl Morgan’s “What is Fantasy, Anyway?”. It’s an essay I enjoyed the first time I read it, and that I still enjoy when I read it for the nth time.

In many ways, it’s exactly the sort of essay I intend Speculative Insight to champion: it’s thoroughly grounded in research, and it’s accessible to a general audience; it challenges and provokes, and does so thoughtfully; and it gave me a few books I really need to follow up (Kim Newman’s Anno Dracula in particular).

I hope you’ll get as much out of it as I did.

The ‘life is a journey’ metaphor is hackneyed, and yet - here I am, using it.

This is an exciting new thing for me. Starting something completely new, getting other people on board, figuring out all of the minutiae…. there is an unavoidable overtone of ‘preparing to step out the door’.

This journal will provide a place for exploring the ideas and themes that stand behind, inform, and develop out of, speculative fiction - the science fiction, fantasy, space opera, slipstream, magical realism, mythological retellings, and other genres that have a wonderfully rich history, are key to understanding and exploring our society today and into the future, and which I have loved since I first learned to read.

… click to read more