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Why Writing and Reading Eco-Fiction Will Save the World—From CliFi to Solarpunk

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Fence and post at marsh during a rain, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

The Universe is made of stories, not atoms—Muriel Rukeyser

Canadian writer Mary Woodbury tells us that: “Fiction exploring humanity’s impacts on nature is becoming more popular [and] has the distinct ability to creatively engage and appeal to readers’ emotions. In fact, it can stir environmental action.” A survey she took in 2020 showed that “88% of its participants were inspired to act after reading ecological fiction.”

Eco-Fiction (short for ecological fiction) is a kind of fiction in which the environment—or one aspect of the environment—plays a major role, either as premise or as character. “Principled by real science and exalting our planet’s beauty, these stories are works of art. They live within classic modes of fiction exploring the human condition, but also integrate the wild,” writes Woodbury. At the heart of eco-fiction are strong relationships forged between the major character on a journey and an aspect of their environment and place. Environment and place can illuminate through the sub-text of metaphor a core aspect of the main character and their journey. 

Green architecture design by Vincent Callebaut

All great literature distills its art form through the exploration of relationship: our relationship with technology, with science, Nature, God, our children, each other, our history. Science fiction illuminates our history and our very humanity by examining our interaction with “the other”—the unfamiliar, the feared, the often downtrodden, the invisible, the ignored. This is the hero’s journey. And it is through this journey relating to the “other” (whether it’s Earth or an alien planet, its water, environment and issues, and its varied peoples and cultures) that our hero discovers herself and her gift to the world. When will we stop portraying Nature as “other”?…

Green neighbourhood design by Vincent Callebaut

We currently live in a world in which climate change and associated water crisis pose a very real existential threat to most life currently on the planet. The new normal is change. And it is within this changing climate that eco-fiction is realizing itself as a literary pursuit worth engaging in. The emergence of the term eco-fiction as a brand of literature suggests that we are all awakening—novelists and readers of novels—to our changing environment. We are finally ready to see and portray environment as an interesting character with agency and to read this important and impactful literature.

Lavender farm and house design by Vincent Callebaut

Many readers are currently seeking fiction that describes environmental issues but also explores a successful paradigm shift: fiction that accurately addresses our current issues with intelligence and hope. This is reflected in the growing popularity of several emerging sub-genres of fiction such as solar punk, optimistic climate fiction, clifi, eco-lit, hope punk, and others. The power of envisioning a certain future is that the vision enables one to see it as possible. Eco-fiction—and all good science fiction—uses metaphor to study the world and the consequences of humanity’s actions through microcosmic dramatization. What makes this literature particularly exciting is: 1) its relevance to our current existential situation; and 2) that it often provides a way forward. 

Solarpunk world imagined (image by Imperial Boy)

The Way Forward with Solarpunk

In his 2014 article “Solarpunk: Notes toward a manifesto” in Hieroglyph Adam Flynn writes of under-30 futurists: “Many of us feel it’s unethical to bring children into a world like ours. We have grown up under a shadow, and if we sometimes resemble fungus it should be taken as a credit to our adaptability.”

“We’re solarpunks because the only other options are denial or despair.”

ADAM FLYNN

Solarpunk, says Flynn, “is about finding ways to make life more wonderful for us now, and more importantly for the generations that follow us—i.e., extending human life at the species level, rather than individually.” Our future, asserts Flynn, “must involve repurposing and creating new things from what we already have (instead of 20thcentury “destroy it all and build something completely different” modernism).” Solarpunk futurism “is not nihilistic like cyberpunk and it avoids steampunk’s potentially quasi-reactionary tendencies: it is about ingenuity, generativity, independence, and community.”

“Hydrogenase” algae-powered airships by Vincent Callebaut

The ‘punk’ suffix comes from the oppositional quality of solarpunk; opposition that begins with infrastructure as a form of resistance. Flynn tells us that solarpunk draws on the ideal of Jefferson’s yeoman farmer, Ghandi’s ideal of swadeshi, and countless other traditions of innovative dissent. 

“Hyperion” eco-neighbourhood design by Vincent Callebaut

“Solarpunk is a future with a human face and dirt behind its ears.”

ADAM FLYNN

In response to Flynn’s article, Bob Vanderbob writes, “going solar is a deep mental shift: it will be the central metaphor of our future civilization.” 

Green Paris design by Vincent Callebaut

Musician photographer Jay Springett calls solarpunk, “a movement in speculative fiction, art, fashion, and activism that seeks to answer and embody the question ‘what does a sustainable civilization look like, and how can we get there?’… At once a vision of the future, a thoughtful provocation, and an achievable lifestyle.” Jennifer Hamilton observes in The Conversation that “as a category of fiction, solarpunk remains a fringe dweller…Nevertheless, the aesthetic sensibilities of the subculture are starting to emerge.” Hamilton asserts that “the focus on the cultural change that will necessarily accompany the full transition to renewable energy is the defining feature of solarpunk.” She adds, “we usually ask ‘can renewables replace fossil fuels?’ … solarpunks ask ‘what kind of world will emerge when we finally transition to renewables?’ and their [works] are generating an intriguing answer.”

Beach house design by Vincent Callebaut

How Eco-Fiction Inspires and Galvanizes

Readers responded to Mary Woodbury’s survey question “Do you think that environmental themes in fiction can impact society and if so, how?” with these observations:

  • Environmental fiction encourages empathy and imagination. Stories can affect us more than dry facts. Fiction reaches us more deeply than academic understanding, moving us to action.
  • Environmental fiction triggers a sense of wonder about the natural world, and even a sense of loss and mourning. Stories can immerse readers into imagined worlds with environmental issues similar to ours.
  • Environmental fiction raises awareness, encourages conversations and idea-sharing. Fiction is one way that helps to create a vision of our future. Cautionary tales can nudge people to action and encourage alternative futures. Novels can shift viewpoints without direct confrontation, avoid cognitive dissonance, and invite reframed human-nature relationships through enjoyment and voluntary participation.
  • Environmental themes can reorient our perspective from egocentrism to the greater-than-human world.
Dirt road in Kawarthas during a misting rain, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Why Our Stories Are Important

We are all storytellers. We share our curiosity with great expression; our capacity and need to tell stories is as old as our ancient beginnings. From the Palaeolithic cave paintings of Lascaux to our blogs on the Internet, humanity has left a grand legacy of “story” sharing. Evolutionary biologist and futurist Elisabet Sahtouris tells us that, “whether we create our stories from the revelations of religions or the researches of science, or the inspirations of great artists and writers or the experiences of our own lives, we live by the stories we believe and tell to ourselves and others.”

Compelling stories resonate with the universal truths of metaphor that reside within the consciousness of humanity. According to Joseph Campbell, this involves an open mind and a certain amount of humility; and giving oneself to the story … not unlike the hero who gives her life to something larger than herself. Fiction becomes memorable by providing a depth of meaning. Stories move with direction, compel with intrigue and fulfil with awareness and, sometimes, with understanding. The stories that stir our hearts come from deep inside, where the personal meets the universal, through symbols or archetypes and metaphor.

Ultimately, we live by the narratives we share. “What you think, you become,” said Buddha.

In my writing guidebook The Ecology of Story: World as Character, I write: “When a writer is mindful of place in story and not only accurately portrays environment but treats it as a character, then her story will resonate with multilayers of meaning.”

Poplar stand in the Kawarthas, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Changing the Narrative…

I was recently interviewed by Forrest Brown on Stories for Earth Podcast in which we discussed the need to change our narrative (particularly our colonial neoliberal capitalist narrative) and various ways to do this, taking into account the challenges posed by belief and language. Lessons from our indigenous wise elders will play a key role in our change toward genuine partnership with the Earth.

“We need to have a whole cultural shift, where it becomes our culture to take care of the Earth, and in order to make this shift, we need storytelling about how the Earth takes care of us and how we can take care of her.” ― Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis

“This world, in which we are born and taken our being, is alive. It is not our supply house and sewer; it is our larger body. The intelligence that evolved us from stardust and interconnects us with all beings is sufficient for the healing of our Earth community, if we but align with that purpose. Our true nature is far more ancient and encompassing than the separate self defined by habit and society. We are as intrinsic to our living world as the rivers and trees, woven of the same intricate flows of matter/energy and mind. Having evolved us into self-reflexive consciousness, the world can now know itself through us, behold its own majesty, tell its own stories–and also respond to its own suffering.” 

JOANNA MACY and CHRIS JOHNSTONE, “Active Hope”
Swamp forest in Kawartha region, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

References:

Campbell, Joseph, Bill Moyers. 1991. “The Power of Myth.” Anchor. 293pp.

Munteanu, Nina. 2016. “Water Is… The Meaning of Water.” Pixl Press, Delta, B.C. 584pp.

Munteanu, Nina. 2019. “The Ecology of Story: World as Character.” Pixl Press, Delta, B.C. 200pp.

Sahtouris, Elisabet. 2014. “Ecosophy: Nature’s Guide to a Better World.” Kosmos, Spring/Summer 2014: 4-9pp. 

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

H2O Publishes my Illustration of the Diatom Forest

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My original Diatom Forest illustration in my article “Diatom Spring” in The Meaning of Water

This past spring, Dutch scientist Herman van Dam (Consultancy for Water and Nature) approached me for permission to use my illustration of the diatom forest in a paper he and co-authors were preparing for the Dutch journal H2O. He explained that they wanted to help familiarize water managers who read the journal with the underwater biodiversity for which my illustration would be helpful.

The Illustration

He’d seen my illustration in my article “A Diatom Spring” in The Meaning of Water. Below is a summary of my article about the diatom forest:

Attachment and colonization starts with a ‘clean’ unpopulated surface (usually scoured by turbulence in a storm or some other event or a new surface tumbled into the water). Several stages of succession take place, starting with early colonizers. The adnate Cocconeis placentula, whose frustules attach directly to the substrate, is an example of an early colonizer. When they attach to a substrate they form a biofilm (think moss in a terrestrial forest). Adnate species are eventually overgrown by taxa that produce a mucilaginous pad (e.g. Synedra) or stalk (e.g. Gomphonema). The understory layer is typically occupied by diatoms such as Fragilaria vaucheriae and Synedra radians that attach to the surface at one end (apical) of their rod-shaped frustules using a mucilaginous pad to form “rosettes” that resemble spiky understory shrubs. This allows them to protrude above the adnate taxa and take advantage of more light.

SEM of Synedra radians and Fragilaria vaucheriae that form rosettes as they apically attach to substrate (image by Roemer et al., 1984)

The diatoms Cymbella and Gomphonema produce long stalks that attach directly to the surface, allowing them to form a swaying canopy over the lower tier of cells of Fragilaria vaucheriae, Synedra radians and early colonizer Cocconeis placentula whose frustules attach directly to the substrate (think overstory and understory of a terrestrial forest or a marine kelp forest).

The Diatom Forest Structure

Just like trees, the canopy-forming stalked diatoms effectively compete for available light and nutrients in the water with their vertical reach. They provide the ‘overstory’ of the diatom forest’s vertical stratification. These tree-like diatoms also provide an additional surface for other diatoms to colonize (e.g. tiny epiphytic Achnanthes settle on the long stalks of Cymbella, just as lichen does on a tree trunk).

SEM of three-week colony of Cymbella affinis (larger diatoms on left) and Gomphonema olivaceum attached via stalks (image from Roemer et al., 1984)

The stalked diatom forest acts like a net, trapping drifting-in euplankton, such as Pediastrum sp. andFragilaria spp., which then decide to stay and settle in with the periphyton community. The mucilage captures and binds detrital particles in both lower and upper stories of the diatom forest; these, in turn, provide nutrients for the diatom forest and additional surfaces for colonization. In their work with periphyton communities, Roemer et al. (1984) found several diatoms (e.g. Diatoma vulgare, Fragilaria spp. Stephanodiscus minutula) entangled in the complex network of cells, stalks, and detritus of the diatom forest’s upper story. They also found rosettes of Synedra radians—like jungle orchids—attached to large clumps of sediment caught by the net of mucilage.

Eventually, ‘overgrowth’ occurs as the periphyton colony matures and grows ‘top-heavy’ with all this networking. The upper story of the community simply sloughs off—usually triggered by turbulence in a river from rains, storms, or dam release. This is similar to a forest fire in the Boreal forest, which creates space and light for new colonization and growth. The dislodged periphyton ride the turbulent flow, temporarily becoming plankton, and those that survive the crashing waters provide “seed” to colonize substrates downstream. Others may get damaged and form the ‘dish soap’ like suds or foam you often see in turbulent water. The proteins, lignins and lipids of the diatoms (and other associated algae) act as surfactants or foaming agents that trap air and form bubbles that stick to each other through surface tension.

Diatoms, organics and associated detritus forms foamy ‘crema’ on the river (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Fragmented diatoms and organic material create a surface foam on the river (photo by Nina Munteanu)

The Paper

The paper was published June 13, 2024, in H2O, written by Jako van der Wal, Joep de Koning and Herman van Dam, and entitled “Snel inzicht in de ecologische waterkwaliteit met diatomeeën” (Quick insight into ecological water quality with diatoms). This paper was right up my alley! As a diatom specialist and limnologist who studied them in relation to environmental conditions and perturbations, I was intrigued by the paper and gained some additional insight on diatom ecology.

Van der Wal et al. cited recent advances in DNA-based identification methods that provide fast and cheap diatom identification over the traditional method of using an optical compound microscope to observe morphological characteristics such as size, shape and ornamentations of the silicified cell wall. I can attest that this is a labour-intensive process in which I spent many hours and days hunched over a microscope during my masters research at Concordia University. This efficient DNA-identification has seen a resurgence of using diatoms as a valuable tool for water quality managers, with applications providing insight into both current and historical water conditions. The authors argue that benthic diatoms or periphyton (living on substrates such as plants, rock, sand and artificial surfaces) have been since the 1980s used as indicators of saproby, trophy, acid and salt character in, among other things, ditches and canals. For every type of water and water quality, there are diatoms that have their habitat there, write the authors. They argue that, unlike phytoplankton, fish and macrofauna, periphyton attach to a surface and hardly move; this means that effects of water quality can be demonstrated locally. Because many diatom species tolerances and intolerances are known and they reproduce quickly (over days), diatoms respond quickly to changes in the environment—much faster (often within weeks) than other ecological indicators.

Scientists and water technicians can use diatom species composition to measure perturbations by organic material, low oxygen content, eutrophication, and toxicity. Given that diatoms colonize and develop quickly, this includes unstable and damaged habitats where other indicators cannot develop, such as shipping traffic, waves or where cleaning or dredging is carried out regularly. Historical insight can be provided by diatoms, given that their silica frustules are naturally preserved in sediment.

My Own Work with Turbulence

Periphyton biofilm (of mostly diatoms) on microscope slides left in a stream

During my masters research in several streams in the Eastern Townships, I examined how diatoms colonized artificial substrates; how they formed productive biofilms that sustained an entire periphyton community of attached aquatic life and discovered that their pattern of colonization related to current speed and direction. I submerged glass slides (the kind people use to look at critters under the microscope) in a device in the stream and oriented them parallel or perpendicular to the current.

There are two ways an algal community grows in a new area: (1) by initial colonization and settling; and (2) by reproduction and growth. I studied both by collecting slides exposed for differing lengths of time (collecting young and mature communities) in different seasons.

I discovered that the diatoms colonized these surfaces in weird ways based on micro-turbulence. Early colonizers, like Achnanthes and adnate Cocconeis preferred to settle on the edges of the slides, where the chaos of turbulence ruled over the sheer of laminar flow. They colonized by directly appressing to the substrate, making them the first photosynthetic taxa to establish a biofilm on a clean substrate. Vadeboncoeur and Katona (2022) write that “in waved-washed surfaces, these taxa may be the only algae that persist.” I postulated that the drift velocity was reduced on the slide’s edge, where turbulence was greatest, giving drifting algae a greater chance to collide and settle on the slide over the more shear laminar flow along the slide’s central face.

Once settled, the community was more likely to grow with turbulence. Greater turbulence decreases the diffusion gradient of materials around algal cells, with a higher rate of nutrient uptake and respiration. Turbulence provides greater opportunity to an existing colony by increasing “chaotic” flow, potential collision and exchange. Turbulence is a kind of “stable chaos” that enhances vigor, robustness and communication.

Using Diatoms in Water Quality Assessments

In their paper Van der Wal et al. argued that in environmental assessment the DNA-identification is just one step in a process that looks a population structure and health. Diatoms are already used in 21 of the 27 EU countries as part of a Water Framework Directive (WFD) quality index for flowing waters and in nine EU countries for standing water. Example conditions and associated perturbations where diatoms are a particularly useful indicator include: salinity, acidity, oxygen saturation, organic load (saproby), nutrient richness (trophy), temperature, and toxicity.

Diatom Growth Forms & Deformities

Van der Wal et al. argued that in addition to the different species compositions and the related ecological indices, growth forms and deformations of diatoms are useful indicators of water quality, particularly in relation to specific toxins.

My illustration adapted for the van der Wal et al. paper in H2O

Growth forms of diatoms can be described as attached, short-stalked, long-stalked, mobile and living in mucous tubes (Figure 3, van der Wal et al., 2024). Each growth form has advantages and disadvantages. For example, short-stalked diatoms are more difficult to graze and long-stalked diatoms come into contact with more water, from which they can then absorb substances. Long-stalked diatoms can also absorb more light if there is a lot of competition. Mobile diatoms can adapt to changing conditions by, for example, migrating from surface to subsurface and vice versa. Diatoms in slime tubes are more difficult to prey on and respond more slowly to environmental changes.

Two frustules of Navicula sp; the one on the right shows obvious deformities in the striations of its silica frustule (photo by van der Wal, H2O, June 13, 2024)

According to Van der Wal et al., scientistis (Rimet & Bouchez) noted that long-stalked diatoms declined in waterbodies subjected to various pesticides. Falasco et al. observed diatom deformities when exposed to various toxic substances. Heavy metals were observed to cause deformities in Navicula. Nitrogen toxicity was also implicated in diatom deformities.

Froth from diatoms and organics on the Otonabee river, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

References:

Falasco, E., Ector, L., Wetzel, C.E., Badino, G. & Bona, F. (2021). “Looking back, looking forward: a review of the new literature on diatom teratological forms (2010-2020).” Hydrobiologia 848: 1675-1753.

Munteanu, N. 2022. “When Diatoms Create a Forest.” https://themeaningofwater.com. December 18, 2022.

Munteanu, N. 2023. “When Diatoms Bloom in Spring.” https://themeaningofwater.com. May 14, 2023.

Munteanu, N. 2023. “A Diatom Spring.” https://themeaningofwater.com. April 16, 2023.

Munteanu, N. & E. J. Maly, 1981. The effect of current on the distribution of diatoms settling on submerged glass slides. Hydrobiologia 78: 273–282.

Munteanu, Nina. 2016. “Water Is…The Meaning of Water.” Pixl Press, Delta, BC. 584 pp.

Poikane, S., Kelly, M., & Cantonati, M. (2016). ‘Benthic algal assessment of ecological status in European lakes and rivers: challenges and opportunities’. Science of the Total Environment 568: 603-613. 

Rimet, F. & Bouchez, A. (2011). ‘Use of diatom life-forms and ecological guilds to assess pesticide contamination in rivers: Lotic mesocosm approaches’. Ecological Indicators 11: 489-499.

Roemer, Stephen C., Kyle D. Hoagland, and James R. Rosowski. 1984. “Development of a freshwater periphyton community as influenced by diatom mucilages.” Can. J. Bot. 62: 1799-1813. 

Serôdio, J. & Lavaud, J. (2020). “Diatoms and their ecological importance”. In: Leal Filho, W. et al. (eds). Life below water. Encyclopedia of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (pp.1-9). Springer Nature.

Smolar-Zvanut, Natasa and Matjaz Mikos. “The impact of flow regulation by hydropower dams on the periphyton community in the Soca River, Slovenia. Hydrological Sciences Journal 59 (5): 1032-1045.

Wal, J. van der, Joep de Koning and Herman van Dam. 2024. “Snel inzicht in de ecologische waterkwaliteit met diatomeeën”  H2O, 13 June, 2024.


Wood, Allison R. 2016. “Attached Algae as an Indicator of Water Quality: A Study of the Viability of Genomic Taxanomic Methods.” Honors Theses and Capstones. 306. University of New Hampshire Scholars’ Repository.

Zuilichem, H. van, Peeters, E. & Wal, J. van der (2016). “Diatomeeën als indicator voor waterkwaliteit nabij rwzi’s”. H2O-Online, 9 december 2016. https://edepot.wur.nl/401202 

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

When Art Helps Story

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No writer works alone. Sure, we may work alone when writing, but all other aspects of getting our writing out to you, the reader, involves a team of other people. Like all good things, writing is a collaborative affair. All professional writers enter a contract with their publisher to work with editors, marketers, and also with cover artists, designers and interior artists. All together create the final artistic expression shared with the reading audience.

I want to focus on the latter here and celebrate how art and design help create more than what the writer alone produces. When my writing career started in earnest in 1995 with my first publication in a professional magazine, I was involved in collaborations with artists, who all improved my work.

Arc of Time was my first short story publication, appearing in Armchair Aesthete in the Summer/Fall issue of 2002. Armchair Aesthete is a small literary magazine in the United States and features funky cover art.

Magazine cover for Ultra! and interior design for “Arc of Time”

Arc of Time was then accepted in the premiere issue of Ultra! (Aardwolf Publications) in 2004. That issue contained a fully illustrated and designed interior, which really set off the story—an epistemological exchange of emails linked with narrative. In 2013, MetaStellar Speculative Fiction and Beyond, which provides illustrations for each story it carries, used one of my own photographs to illustrate Arc of Time.

Feature cover illustration for “Arc of Time” on MetaStellar site

Virtually Yours first appeared in Hadrosaur Tales in Issue #15 in December 2002. Hadrosaur Tales is a small but vibrant literary magazine out of Las Cruces, New Mexico and featured interesting covers.

Cover and story illustrations in Nowa Fantastyka for “Virtually Yours”

Virtually Yours was republished all over the world and is up to its tenth publication this year. Several publications included artwork specifically for the story. Nowa Fantastyka, out of Poland, is a slick magazine that boasts a lot of images, colour interiors and illustrations. My story was introduced with illustrations that enhanced its impact.

Interior illustrations for “Virtually Yours” in Amazing Stories and MetaStellar, respectively

Its reprint in Amazing Stories was illustrated evocatively by Duncan Long. In the story’s later reprint in MetaStellar Speculative Fiction and Beyond, Brigitte Werner created a beautiful illustration for the story.

Nowa Fantastyka cover art and story art for “A Butterfly in Peking”

A Butterfly in Peking first appeared in Issue #17 of Chiaroscuro in 2003. Its reprint in the Polish magazine Nowa Fantastyka in 2005 included interior art that introduced the tone and feel of the story.

Megan Survival Anthology cover art and story art for “Fingal’s Cave”

Fingal’s Cave was first published in The Megan Survival Anthology (Reality Skimming Press) in December 2016. The publication included art by Jeff Doten specific to each story in the anthology and I found his artwork for Fingal’s Cave wonderfully intriguing.

Artwork for “The Way of Water” in various publications

The Way of Water was first published in Future Fiction then in a smart print publication by Mincione Edizioni in Rome, Italy in May 2016. The story was reprinted several times and artwork associated with it included in some of the publications. One is Little Blue Marble, an online magazine that features artwork for each story it runs.

Cover art of Eagle Magazine and story art for “Natural Selection”

Natural Selection first came out in my short story collection of the same name in 2013. It was then reprinted in the premiere issue of Eagle Magazine and featured stellar and evocative interior illustrations by Ionuț Bănuță.

Interior story art for “Natural Selection”

Out of the Silence first appeared in Issue #85 of subTerrain Magazine in May 2020 and featured diverse and rich interior art and design (not pictured here). Its reprint in A House of Dawn in 2021 received its own artwork, which enhanced the tone and subject of the story.

Cover art for subTerrain Magazine and story art for “Out of the Silence” in A House of Dawn

I’d be remiss if I didn’t add the important artwork of artists on the covers of several of my novels and collections. As a reader, I can attest that cover art plays an important role in introducing a book to a potential reader. Whether we pick up a new author’s book to peruse depends upon the image, title and design of the cover. I have been very fortunate with my publishers and their artists.

Book covers for “Collision with Paradise” and “The Cypol”

My first published novel (Collision with Paradise) and novella (The Cypol)—both SF erotica—were designed to intrigue and titillate.

Costi Gurgu illustrated and designed the covers of my space detective thriller The Splintered Universe Trilogy for Starfire. The three books and their covers, formed a tryptic that reflected the journey of the lead character—a badass galactic detective—and her evolution.

Cover art for books of “The Splintered Universe” Trilogy

Costi Gurgu also designed the cover of my short story collection Natural Selection for Pixl Press in 2013 using an illustration by West Coast artist Anne Moody that showed the fluidity of nature.

Tikulin-illustrated covers for “Darwin’s Paradox” and “The Last Summoner”

Tomislav Tikulin illustrated the cover of my novel Darwin’s Paradox for Dragon Moon Press in 2007. The cover image ostensibly represented a work of hard science fiction and attracted much attention from SF fans. Tikulin’s evocative illustration of a knight in a drowning cathedral was then used for the cover of The Last Summoner for Starfire, with attractive typology design by Costi Gurgu. As with all of Tikulin’s work, this mysterious cover attracted the attention of many readers with many questions.

L’Ultima Evocatrice, a novella version of The Last Summoner in Italian was illustrated and designed for Delos Digital Publications in 2021 and draws the reader into the intrigue of the story.

My most recent novel, A Diary in the Age of Water, published by Inanna Publications in 2020, features elegant cover art by Val Fullard and over thirty pieces of interior art work by my own hand.

Interior art representing the diarist’s sketches in “A Diary in the Age of Water

I wasn’t sure if the publisher would agree to use my sketches, but she did, to my surprised delight. She agreed with me that the interior illustrations, which represent sketches by the scientist diarist, lend a tangible reality to the story and a further focus of interest.

Interior art representing the diarist’s sketches in “A Diary in the Age of Water
Interior art representing the diarist’s sketches in “A Diary in the Age of Water”

The excitement never ends for me as a writer … With the newest installation to the Icaria Series imminent, Dragon Moon Press will be re-issuing Darwin’s Paradox and Angel of Chaos, along with the newest addition Gaia’s Revolution along with new covers and interiors. I can’t wait to see what Dragon Moon Press comes up with! …

Cover art of print publications my work has appeared in up to 2021-end

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

The Magic of the Muse: When A Simple Rewrite Reveals Synchronicity

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It started with a simple tweet of mine on X regarding doing research for one’s writing projects. I’d met Isabella Mori a few years ago, when we both contributed to an ekphrastic anthology of flash fiction, inspired by Group of Seven art. We met again when she submitted a story to an anthology I was editing for Exile Editions. After my tweet on research, Isabella and I traded brief stories about rewrites based on research findings and ‘mistakes’ and the arcane revelations in the creative process that may result. I was intrigued by her recounting and asked her to share it with you; so here it is:

“Synchronicities And The Sea” by Isabella Mori

(Trigger warning: Substance use and suicide)

This is about the magic that comes to pass when we let the Muse guide our work and consent to synchronicity. Here is what happened:

When I go away on vacation, I try to visit the local library, and always make sure to check out the community announcements. On one of those forays, I came across a notice of a project that teamed up visual artists with writers for a short story or poem. I love these types of collaborations and immediately jumped on it. Max was the artist I paired up with, and we hit it off right away. After a few conversations, we settled on the painting below, for which I was going to write a story. As you can see, it had a moody, dark feeling. I drafted this text as a response:

The memory of a map showed her the way as she wandered, blinded by the night, along the shore. Numb with cold, her bare feet dug into the wet sand. She could not see that she left no tracks. There was something in her searching; she felt it in the deep pit of her stomach but there was no image in her mind’s eye of what it was, no tinkling that alerted her, no smell, no taste. A sense of despair drained the blood from her heart and tugged at her from the right, where the forest rushed. Foot-dragging ennui invited her onto a soft-moss carpet to the left, and thoughts of numbers, cars and cash register receipts tried to wrangle her back to where she came from. She was near giving up. But at that precise moment there tracked the light only she of the searching could see—a light bigger more forceful than giants could ever imagine; all-embracing, all-revealing, all-nurturing just like the frothy ocean beneath it, just like the sand with its fierce sparkle, each grain a diamond just like the heart-bud that could not help but open under its rays, under those rays that only she of the searching could see.

However, for reasons we have both forgotten, Max decided to lighten the colours, and the dark mood of the first draft didn’t fit anymore. This is the version we ended up with:

Walk With The Angels

The ocean has known her share of angels over the eons. They come and go but the tide is older. When an angel appears in a cloud of glistening light, beats its wings and brings out the trumpets, little humans fall to their knees and beg for mercy and miracles.

But the water stays still.

Great mother ocean has seen it all.

She waits until the angel grows tired, then she takes the worn-out wings and heavenly body into her arms and carries them into her depths. Brings the apparition to visit kelp, salmon, starfish, barnacles, otters and crabs. Anemones. Killer whales. A visit one by one, under the summer sun, beneath the light of the Hunter’s moon, when the snow falls, with the Easter rains. The angel leaves a bit of themselves here, a bit there, a gift everywhere, until only the tiniest of diamonds are left.

And that’s the sand.

Walk with the angels.

There were a few tweaks before we arrived at this text, the major one being that in a previous version, I referred to ‘angel dust’ for the sand until the editor pointed out that that term refers to a street drug, PCP. In my enthusiasm I had forgotten that.

The change away from ‘angel dust’ was very important. When Max read the new version, they called me, their tone of voice both moved and perturbed.

“When I read this,” they said, “it feels like you channeled what happened with my cousin last year, not far from the place that inspired my painting. She had had problems with drugs all her life, and one day she just walked into the ocean. Her body was found a day later.”

Under those circumstances, we definitely did not want to refer to drugs.

That story stayed with me for months until one day when I was listening to one of my playlists of Latin music. I lived in Paraguay and Chile 1977-1980, and often enjoy the nostalgia of the music I listened to back then. The first song that came on was one of my all-time favourites, Alfonsina Y El Mar – Alfonsina And The Sea. Now I have to confess, I am terrible with lyrics, no matter what language, whether it be my native German, English, or the Spanish I was fluent in for quite a few years. For some reason, I really listened to the song last summer, and then looked up the lyrics. That’s when it hit me – was it possible that the lyrics of that song had subconsciously influenced me to write the second text? Or was it one of those Jungian collective conscious moments?

Alfonsina And The Sea

(Music: Ariel Ramirez. Lyrics: Felix Luna)

In the soft sand
Licked by the sea
Her small footprints
Don’t return.
Just one path
Full of pain and silence
Led to the water,
Deep water,
And one single path of unspoken pain
Led to the foam.

God knows what sorrows accompanied you,
What old suffering shut down your voice
That made you lie down and nestle into the songs
Of the sea snails,
The song that sings in the deep dark of the sea,
The sea snail.

There you go, Alfonsina, with your loneliness,
What new poems did you go find?
An old, old voice of wind and salt
Sways your soul and carries it
And you go there dreaming,
Sleeping, Alfonsina, clothed in the sea

Five little sirens will carry you
Through passages of algae and corals
And glowing sea horses will dance
Around you
And all the creatures of the sea will soon
Play at your side.

Turn down the light a little more,
Nurse, let me sleep in peace.
And when he calls tell him I’m not in,
Tell him Alfonsina won’t come back.
And when he calls don’t ever tell him I’m in,
Tell him I’m gone.

There you go, Alfonsina, with your loneliness,
What new poems did you go find?
An old, old voice of wind and salt
Sways your soul and carries it
And you go there dreaming,
Sleeping, Alfonsina, clothed in the sea.

(Used with permission, my translation.)

Alfonsina ended up in the ocean just like Max’s cousin did.  

With some research, I found out that the story was about the Argentinian poet Alfonsina Storni who, after a difficult life that included poverty, questions she had about gender identity, and breast cancer, one night wrote a last poem to her son and then let herself fall into the ocean amid torrential rain. (An  apocryphal version has her just walk into the ocean, and that’s the one the lyricist chose.) Some of that last poem was incorporated into Alfonsina Y El Mar – the nurse who is asked to lower the light, and told to tell ‘him’ that she won’t come back. Nobody seems to know who ‘he’ is.

The other research that had to happen was to find who the inheritors of Felix Luna’s estate were to obtain permission should I tell the story that you have before you. It turned out to be his daughters. Then I had to sleuth out their contact.

Felix Luna, the lyricist, imagined Alfonsina’s death not only as the terrible tragedy that it was but also as a mystical transformation into a sea creature that nestles into the songs of the sea snails. She finds new poems and sleeps clothed in the sea. She is embraced by sirens and wanders through algae and corals. She dances with sea horses and plays with all the other sea creatures.

I definitely cannot compare myself with a great poet like Felix Luna but notice with humility the similarities of my transformed angel who sinks into the embrace of mother ocean and also visits the more-than-humans of the sea.

I went pregnant with the idea of writing about the experience of Max’s and my collaboration for half a year when in February, I chanced upon a tweet by Nina about research for writing. I met Nina through submitting a story to an anthology she was editing. I told her about needing to tweak the angel story so that it does not talk about angel dust and ended up telling her the outline of what happened. She invited me to write a guest post about this, and here we are.

So many synchronicities. I could have not gone to that library. A different artist could have been paired up with me. Max could have wanted to stay with the original painting. Or they could have chosen a painting that would not have reminded them of their cousin. They could have opted not to share that sad story with me, or they could have been paired up with someone who doesn’t understand suicide as intimately as I do (I look back on a 30+ year career in social services.) I could have heard Alfonsina Y El Mar and still not really listened to the lyrics. There was no guarantee I could have managed to find out from whom to get permission to quote the song. I could not have submitted a story to one of Nina’s anthologies, and could not have followed her on Twitter. Coming across the particular tweet that prompted the publication of this story was like chancing upon a needle in a haystack. All this, and probably more, had to come together for this magical synchronicity to happen.

Thank you, Muse.

(Note: Since this is a sensitive topic, the artist’s name and some of the circumstances of my collaboration with them have been changed. However, the artist has consented to using their images.)

Boat wharf at sunset in Ladner Marsh, BC (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Isabella Mori writes fiction, poetry and nonfiction, and is the author of three books of and about poetry, including A bagful of haiku – 87 imperfections. Isabella’s work has appeared in publications such as State Of Matter,  Kingfisher, Signs Of Life, Presence, and The Group Of Seven Reimagined. Isabella is the founder of Muriel’s Journey Poetry Prize, which celebrates socially engaged poetry. A book about mental health and addiction is planned for publication with Three Ocean Press in 2024. They live on the unceded, traditional and ancestral lands of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh people aka Vancouver, BC.

“Robin’s Last Song” at Climate Imaginarium in New York City’s Governor’s Island

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Governor’s Island, NYC

My short story Robin’s Last Song was selected by the NYC Climate Writers Collective as part of an exhibition in the Climate Imaginarium on Governors Island in New York. The exhibition, starting May 18, will run throughout the summer of 2024.

Robin’s Last Song

Robin’s Last Song first appeared in the #128 Issue of Apex Magazine in 2021. It tells the story of Robin, a blind elder whose digital app failed to warn the world of the sudden global loss of birds with disastrous ecological consequences. After years of living in self-exile and getting around poorly on sight-enhancing technology, a discovery gives her new hope in rekindling her talents in the field of Soundscape Ecology.

In a recent interview with writer Simon Rose, I described my thoughts in writing Robin’s Last Song:

I wanted to make “Robin’s Last Song” a realizable work of fiction in which science and technology play both instigator of disaster and purveyor of salvation. Our biogenetic technology comes to us as a double-edged sword in the form of gene-editing, proteomics, DNA origami, and CRISPR—just to name a few. These biotechnological innovations promise a cornucopia of enhancements: from increased longevity and health in humans to giant disease-resistant crops. But, for every ‘magic’ in technology, there is often unintended consequence. Unforeseen—or even ignored—casualties and risks. I suppose my ultimate question with this story is: will synthetic biology redesign Nature to suit hubris or serve evolution? Science doesn’t make those decisions. We do.

You can read my interview with Rebecca E. Treasure at Apex Magazine (where Robin’s Last Song first appeared) about the greater implications of the story and my other eco-fiction. You can also read the story on Metastellar Speculative Fiction and Beyond.

Climate Imaginarium

Anyone living in or visiting the NYC area is welcome to the Climate Imaginarium launch on May 18 on Governor’s Island. Check this Eventbrite link for details. The exhibition will continue throughout the summer of 2024 and will include: climate storytelling and poetry by Climate Café, the Sixth Festival, and the Climate Writers Collective; opening exhibition of “What is Environmental Art?” by Forest for Trees; artwork from the Climate Imaginarium community and Climate Writers exhibition; “Eye of Flora” virtual reality exhibition by Synphisica Collective; and more.

Here’s what they say:

Come to Governors Island for the grand opening of our Climate Imaginarium house! The Climate Imaginarium will serve as a community center for climate and culture, with galleries and spaces for exhibitions, performances, film screenings, and events that respond to the climate crisis with solutions and visions for hope and justice. Join us at Building 406A on Colonels Row for a lively celebration of climate art, storytelling, and community.

Exhibitions will be open to the public at noon, and the party will officially start at 2pm. All donations will support programming in our community space.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

The Use of Character-Coupling in Eco-Literature to Give Voice to the Other, Part 1: Introduction 

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A trickster wind stirs up clouds of drifting snow, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Not long ago, I was driving through a short tunnel that I typically take to go to work and, glancing back through the rearview mirror, I didn’t see what I expected to see. For some reason—perhaps it was the light or my wandering mind—the familiar scene looked unfamiliar; it was as though I’d entered a new dimension.

It felt ‘Otherly’ and I briefly experienced a titillating excitement akin to a protagonist journeying into a new world in some novel.

Indeed, the rhetoric of ‘Otherness’ in most fiction is typically portrayed through the singular point of view (POV) and discourse of a protagonist on a journey. The very nature of the term ‘Other’ used in any narrative suggests exclusion. According to Patricia Kerslake of Central Queensland University, the postcolonial notion of the Other arises through a mutual process of exclusion that inspires the very idea of ‘alien’ by imposing expectation on perception. Kerslake argues that: “When one culture imposes its perceptions on another, in that it begins to see the Other not as they are but as, in [Edward W.] Said’s words, ‘they ought to be’, then the process of representation becomes inevitable: a choice is made to see a ‘preferred’ real”.  

In most forms of literature The POV ‘voice’ represents the Self, the inclusive ‘us’ (worldview) in its encounter with the Other, which in turn is the ‘not us.’ In his book  Orientalism: Western Conceptions of the Orient Edward W. Said contended that for there to even be an ‘us’, there has to be a ‘not-us’. The resulting power dynamic of “them and us,” of Other and Self, is created and controlled by perceptions of the singular POV voice that usually represents ‘us.

Tree branches overlook river during snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

‘The Other’ in Various Genres of Literature

In most genres of literature, the Other is often relegated to this dichotomous portrayal. In post-apocalyptic and metaphoric journey stories the Other may be the harsh environment or a calamity through which the protagonist must find their own strength to survive; in military stories it is clearly the enemy, seldom portrayed with compassion or understanding but there to test our hero; in coming-of-age stories it may be the oppressive rule or established world the hero must overcome; in science fiction it may be the hostile or unknowable aliens who must be defeated. According to Ursula K. Le Guin, science fiction displays a legacy of silencing the Other and rendering it impotent to establish and confirm humanity’s superior position in the world. Given that science fiction (SF) literature is rooted in culture, and often helps construct national identity, SF often confirms worldview, and in so doing creates internal Others (Brioni and Comberiati). According to Hermann, by failing to escape our boundary conflicts, SF simply constructs “new situations of restriction and otherness.” Kerslake argues that “silencing the Other provides SF with an indirect ability to define the potential of humankind”.1 

Country road in the Kawarthas, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

‘The Other’ in Eco-Literature

While eco-literature overlaps with many genres, it appears to differ from SF and other genres portrayal of Other through its unique intention to give voice to otherwise voiceless characters, and it often does this through masterful use of character-coupling. Mary Woodbury defines eco-literature or eco-fiction as literature “made up of fictional tales that reflect important connections, dependencies, and interactions between people and their natural environments.” The environment—or an aspect of the environment—plays a major role in eco-literature, either as premise or as itself a character on a journey.

Eco-Literature is preeminently the literature of bringing awareness to the plight of the environment as both character and as Other and explores humanity’s role in that plight. 

Eco-literature may go beyond raising awareness to link environmental abuse with concepts of jingoistic hubris; it may raise issues of human intersectionality, misogyny, marginalization, oppression of class, privilege, sexuality and race, and misuse of power. Violent acts perpetrated on environment—when environment is personified as ‘character’ and/or coupled directly to a character—elicit powerful emotion and clearly demonstrate how social/human injustice reflects environmental injustice.

At the heart of much eco-literature lie strong relationships forged between a major character (often main protagonist) and a minor character (as avatar for the environment such as place or ecosystem, a being, animal or plant) or an aspect of their environment—itself a character and archetype. The strong connection between protagonist and environment—whether antagonistic or sympathetic—fosters unique communication that provides ‘voice’ to the environment as Other and as Othered.  The environment may serve as a symbolic connection to theme and can illuminate through the sub-text of metaphor a core aspect of a main or minor character and their journey: the over-exploited white pine forests for the lost Mi’kmaq in Annie Proulx’s Barkskins; the mystical life-giving sandworms for the beleaguered Fremen of Arrakis in Frank Herbert’s Dune. 

Old shed overlooks the Otonabee river on a snowy-foggy day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Giving Voice to the Other Through Character-Coupling 

The coupling of protagonist with avatar—character-coupling—creates powerful drama and visceral connection to environmental issues and needs. Character-coupling characterizes environment, the Other, and effectively provides it with a voice, often through relationship. It elicits reader engagement, sparking new understandings and motivations toward a better caring of this world. The Other’s voice may be understandable (e.g. in many fables such as The Bear), arcane, tumultuous or fearsome (Memory of Water), or enduring and silently profound (The Breathing Hole). 

Eco-literature is particularly poised to make meaningful character-couplings between mostly human protagonist and environmental characters or representatives. This is because the protagonist provides relatable qualities for easy reader empathy, while the Othered character is often less relatable—often an arcane aspect of the environment, such as water (Memory of Water) or a forest (The Overstory). Character-couplings illuminate a core aspect of the main character’s journey and/or the reader’s journey. From direct and intimate (The Breathing Hole, The Bear) to associated and inferred (The Windup Girl, Barkskins), different forms of character couplings often provide a new understanding of the plight and viewpoint of the Other. The protagonist’s link to the Other provides a readable map for the reader to follow and make their own connection.2  

Dogwood shrubs and trees line a marsh in Ontario (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Women Coupled with Nature as Other  

Since before the industrial revolution, and very much to this day, the prevailing western worldview toward the wildness of nature has been to dominate it and constrain it. The conviction that humans are separate from and superior to nature was established by Judeo-Christian beliefs and the Cartesian hegemony that laid the foundations of modern anthropocentrism (White). Ecofeminist Ynestra King argues that “we live in a culture that is founded on the repudiation, [exploitation], and domination of nature … the Other that has no voice”. King further argues that, “Women, who are identified with nature, have been similarly objectified and subordinated in patriarchal society”.   

The modern ecofeminist movement contends that a long historical precedent of associating women with nature has led to the oppression of both. Ecofeminists note that “women and nature were often depicted as chaotic, irrational, and in need of control, while men were frequently characterized as rational, ordered, and thus capable of directing the use and development of women and nature” (Miles). 

French philosopher and writer Simone de Beauvoir elegantly explores this connection: 

Man seeks in woman the Other as Nature and as his fellow being. But we know what ambivalent feelings Nature inspires in man. He exploits her, but she crushes him, he is born of her and dies in her; she is the source of his being and the realm that he subjugates to his will; Nature is a vein of gross material in which the soul is imprisoned, and she is the supreme reality…Woman sums up Nature as Mother. Wife, and Idea; these forms now mingle and now conflict, and each of them wears a double visage.  

Simone de Beauvoir

Because of this association and history, some of the most powerful character-couplings in eco-literature are of women protagonists coupled with natural avatar: the Inuk widow with polar bear cub in the clifi allegory The Breathing Hole; the girl and bear in the allegory-fable The Bear; the windup girl Emiko and the Cheshire cats in the cautionary tale The Windup Girl; the tea master Noria and water in the post-ecosystem collapse novel Memory of Water; the ecologist, Patricia Westerford, with the giant trees in The Overstory.3

Part 2 (“Types of Character-Coupling in Seven Examples of eco-Literature“) follows next week.

Heavy snow on the river, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Footnotes:

  1. The Other has often been metaphorically portrayed in SF by aliens that lack a distinct voice or viewpoint; some portrayal has reflected a fearful imperialistic colonialism by representing Other as adversary such as an invading monster with no regard for humans (e.g. Robert Heinlein’s The Number of the Beast; H.G. Wells’s War of the Worlds). Kerslake argues that the traits of the Other “fall characteristically—and conveniently—into those spaces we choose not to recognize in ourselves, the ‘half-imagined, half-known: monsters, devils, heroes, terrors, pleasures, desires’ of Said’s ‘Orient’”. The Martians of Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles—who also have no voice—reflect our indigenous peoples under the yoke of settler colonialism and an exploitive resource-extraction mindset. The monster of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein—also with no voice—exemplifies the disabled/deformed unsavory departure from our ‘perfect’ self-image; to be chased, destroyed and nullified.  
  2. In some stories the protagonist is Othered in some way, providing a more direct link to the experience of being the Other or being Othered. For instance, in Mishell Baker’s Borderline, disabled protagonist Millie provides the connection to the greater theme of Othering “lesser beings.” In Costi Gurgu’s Recipearium, the protagonists are not human; they are alien creatures that dwell inside the dead carcass of a monster, representing Other as main character. 
  3. Excellent examples that overtly deal with some of these injustices include The Fifth Season trilogy by N.K. Jemisin and The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline.
Snow-covered houses line the river during a snowstorm, ON (photos and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

References:

Agamben, Giorgo. Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life. Stanford University Press. 1998. 228pp.

Bacigalupi, Paolo. The Windup Girl. Night Shade Books, New York. 2015. 466pp.

de Beauvoir, Simone. “The Second Sex.” Modern Library, Random House, New York. 1968. p.144 In:

Dwyer, Jim. Where the Wild Books are: A Field Guide to Ecofiction. University of Nevada Press, Reno, Nevada. 2010. 264pp.

Ganz, Marshall and Emily S. Lin. “Learning to Lead: a Pedagogy of Practice.” The Handbook for Teaching Leadership: Knowing, Doing, and Being, edited byIn Scott A. Sook, Nitin Nohria, and Rakesh Khurana. Thousand Oaks: SAGE Publications, 2012. 354p.

Herbert, Frank. Dune. Ace, New York. 1965. 884pp.

Itäranta, Emmi. Memory of Water. Harper Voyager. New York. 2014. 266pp.

Kerslake, Patricia. “The Self and Representations of the Other in Science Fiction.” Chapter 1. Science Fiction and Empire, Liverpool University Press, 2007, pp. 8-24.

King, Ynestra. “The Ecology of Feminism and the Feminism of Ecology.” Chapter 2. Healing the Wounds: The Promise of Ecofeminism, edited by Judith Plant. New Society Pub, 1989, pp. 18-28.

Krivak, Andrew. The Bear. Bellevue Literary Press, New York, NY. 2020. 221pp.

Miles, Kathryn. “Ecofeminism: sociology and environmentalism.” Britannica, britannica.com/topic/ecofeminism.

Murphy, Coleen. The Breathing Hole. Playwrights Canada Press, Toronto. 2020. 305pp.

Nugent, Brittany. “The Rare Bear Protecting a Canadian Rainforest.” Goodness Exchange. 2021. https://goodness-exchange.com/spirit-bear-kermode-bear-kept-a-secret-for-generations/ Accessed October 30, 2022.

Powers, Richard. The Overstory. W.W. Norton & Company, New York. 2018. 502pp.

Proulx, Annie. Barkskins. Scribner, New York. 2016. 717pp.

Roburn, Shirley. Shifting Stories, Changing Places: Being Caribou and Narratives of Transformational Climate Change in Northwestern North America. Concordia University PhD dissertation. P. 31. https://spectrum.library.concordia.ca/id/eprint/980193/1/Roburn_PhD_F2015.pdf. Accessed 31 October 2022

Said, Edward W. Orientalism: Western Conceptions of the Orient. Vintage, London, 1978. 432pp.

Woodbury, Mary. “What is Eco-fiction?” Dragonfly.eco. 2016. https://dragonfly.eco/eco-fiction/ Accessed September 15, 2022.

The rotary trail on a heavy-snow day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Book Review: Nina’s “Favourite 3 Reads Of 2023– Feminist Eco-Fiction

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In late 2023, I was invited by Shepherd to post an article of my favourite three reads of 2023. I had earlier that year posted on Shepherd an article describing what I considered to be the best eco-fiction books that make you care and give you hope.

I started out by reviewing what I had read in 2023. It looked like I’d read about thirty odd books, almost half and half non-fiction to fiction. That’s not many, but I’m a slow reader. I pore through each book at a snail’s pace, spending time making notes with some, particularly the non-fiction books, which I use to research my writing. With fiction, I dive in deep and thoroughly savor each word and sentence like a mouthful of an excellent meal made with loving hands. Books varied from non-fiction scholarly works on forest ecosystems (The Treeline by Ben Rawlence) and post-capitalism (Four Futures by Peter Frase) to literary fiction, political thrillers, speculative fiction, clifi, and eco-fiction.

It was a tough choice, but I came up with three choices and a thematic rationale that resonated with me and made a deep kind of sense for that year: all three books were eco-fiction of sorts and featured hopeful stories of strong women, acting out of compassion and in solidarity with intelligence, kindness and courage. For me, 2023 was a year of strong feminine energy for the planet and my favourite books reflect that. Here they are (read the original article on Shepherd here):

The first of my favourite three books of 2023 is Michelle Min Sterling’s Camp Zero.

Set in the remote Canadian north—a place I love for its harsh beauty—this feminist climate fiction explores a warming climate through the perilous journeys of several female characters, each relating to her environment in different ways. Each woman exerts agency in surprising ways that include love, bravery and shared community. The strength of female power carried me through the pages like a braided river heading to a singular ocean. These very different women journey through the dark ruins of violent capitalism, colonialism and patriarchy—flowing past and through hubristic men pushing north with agendas and jingoistic visions—to triumph in an ocean of solidarity. I empathized with each woman as she found her strength and learned to wield true heroism—one based on collaboration and humble honesty.

My second favourite book of 2023 is Yevgeni Zamyatin’s We.

I enjoyed this 1920 hopeful dystopia for its courageous and unprecedented feminism. While the story centres on logical D-503, a man vacuously content as a number in the One State, it is I-330—Zamyatin’s unruly heroine—who stole my attention. Confident, powerful and heroic, the liberated I-330 embraces the Green Wind of change to influence D-503. A force of hope and resilience, she braves torture to successfully orchestrate a revolution that breaches the Green Wall—feats typically relegated to a male protagonist in novels of that era. When pregnant O-90 refuses to surrender her child to the State, I-330 helps her escape to the outside, where the Green Wind of freedom blows. I resonated with Zamyatin’s cautionary tale on the folly of logic without love and Nature.

My third favourite book of 2023 is Hugh Howie’s Wool (first of the SILO series).

Juliette—humble and gutsy, kind and relentlessly motivated in her journey for the truth—kept the pages turning for me. Juliette is a mechanic from the Down-Deep of the underground Silo, humanity’s last refuge to a toxic world. When Juliette inexplicably lands the job of sheriff, she treats her new position as a tool to seek the truth about her lover’s mysterious recent death. At her own peril, she pulls on threads that ultimately reveal a great conspiracy.

Juliette’s literal and metaphoric rise from the Down-Deep to the Up-Top is a feminist’s journey that transcends intersectional barriers as she battles small-minded men of power and maintains her integrity by refusing to abide by the inhumane Up-Top rules of order. By the end, I sensed a victory for humankind through womankind.

Also check out Shepherd’s 100 best books of 2023.

You might be interested in two of my own eco-fiction novels that feature several strong female protagonists:

Darwin’s Paradox follows the complex dynamic of a brave mother and her willful teenage daughter, both ‘gifted’ by a virus living inside them. Accused of murder and deliberately spreading the virus that killed many, Julie fled the enclosed city and settled in the climate wastelands with her husband and their child. Years later, when their harsh refuge is threatened by city forces seeking mother and daughter for experimentation, Julie leaves her family and gives herself up to the city, hoping they will abandon pursuing her daughter. Still psychically connected to the city’s AI community (now evolving into an autonomous entity with the intelligent virus), Julie entangles with political intrigue while her daughter, who followed her to the city, stumbles into her mother’s violent past. 

A Diary in the Age of Water follows the climate-induced journey of Earth and humanity through four generations of women, each with a unique relationship to water. Centuries from now, in a dying boreal forest in what used to be northern Canada, Kyo, a young acolyte called to service in the Exodus, yearns for Earth’s past—the Age of Water—before the “Water Twins” destroyed humanity. Looking for answers and plagued by vivid dreams of this holocaust, Kyo discovers the diary of Lynna, a limnologist from that time of severe water scarcity just prior to the destruction. In her work for a global giant that controls Earth’s water, Lynna witnesses and records in her diary the disturbing events that will soon lead to humanity’s demise.

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Path through a mixed forest in early winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Getting Lost in Paris

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Montage of Paris (photos by Nina Munteanu)

On my third day in Paris, I got lost. I didn’t mean to; it just happened.

I’d started early and joined the morning crowd at the Musée d’Orsay. After a breathtaking journey through the visions of French Impressionists, I ventured by bus to the Champ du Mars and climbed the Eiffel Tower to see Paris from the perspective of the Gods: a wheeled mosaic of art, magic and scene. Then I decided to walk home from there. I thought my adventure was over; in truth, it had just begun…

One of my many stops for delightful sustenance in Paris (photo by Nina Munteanu)

As I wound my way down a tree-lined street, the flower blossoms rained down with the fragrant breeze, painting the cobblestones in pale shades of diaphanous pink. A young couple sat wrapped around each other on a bench, kissing.
It suddenly struck me that I was in Paris in the springtime; and I was alone. It was just an observation. It didn’t make me sad or uncomfortable; I’ve traveled a great deal on my own and have enjoyed the edgy play on my mind and soul that solitude in a strange place brings.

Montage of Paris (photos by Nina Munteanu)

Philosopher Mark Kingwell wrote, “travel is a drug, and not just because it can be addictive. More because it alters consciousness, dilates the mind and maybe even rewires the cerebral cortex…going somewhere different from home [is] the best way to challenge your habitual ways of thinking.”

I’d come to Paris to research the book I was writing—about a young girl (a medieval time-traveller) who can alter history (The Last Summoner). Paris, with its Neo-Classical architecture, quaint cobble streets, and stylish Parisians, lends itself to a wandering eye and finally to introspection. For Kingwell, “somewhere beyond the contrived, comfortable cityscapes, we’ll encounter a potentially more profound version of ourselves.”

Paris, like the Parisians, is a seductive dance. It is so attractive to view. But ultimately one must participate in it to fully experience it.

I don’t know when I finally noticed that I had no idea where I was. It just happened. Along one of Paris’s charming narrow cobble streets as the Hausmann-style buildings blushed in the sunset, I found myself utterly lost.

Montage of Paris (photos by Nina Munteanu)

The sky’s light shades of peach gave way to a deeper shade of ochre as I walked on, feeling more and more a stranger and more and more self-conscious that I was. I wasn’t dressed fashionably. Oh, I had the obligatory scarf and stylish leather jacket; but I lacked the finesse of these Parisians who glided confidently along the darkening streets that were familiar to them. The sounds, sights and smells of this foreign city heightened in a frisson of increasing tension. But I refused to let the darkness take me and let my feet lead me on, confident that I would find something. This was Paris, after all…

Display of one of the many patisseries in Paris (photo by Nina Munteanu)

“Not to find one’s way in a city may well be uninteresting and banal,” wrote Walter Benjamin. “It requires ignorance—nothing more. But to lose oneself in a city—as one loses oneself in a forest—that calls for quite a different schooling.” A school for questions, not answers, says Kingwell.

I’d come to Paris with questions, many questions; some of which I would not answer. Perhaps the most important ones. I’d come with the hubristic ambition of defining Paris. But I discovered that to define Paris is to define life…and oneself.

Montage of Paris (photos by Nina Munteanu)

Paris unfolds like an impressionist canvas, to be interpreted through experience. It is an aria, both exquisite and haunting. Like the lingering aftertaste in the back of my throat of a complex bitter-sweet Bordeaux. I lost myself willingly to its mystery. “Real travel,” says Kingwell, “means we must surrender expectations and submit to chance, to challenge our desires, not merely satisfy existing ones…Leaving home ought to be, above all…that plunge into otherness. Becoming strange to ourselves is the gateway to seeing how dependent on strangers we are for our identities…Getting lost to yourself might be the best way to find out who you are.”

Author sits with her novel manuscript for “The Last Summoner”, a cafe creme and Pastis in Place Saint-Michel, Latin Quarter of Paris

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

When Water Speaks: quotes from A Diary in the Age of Water

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“What if water doesn’t like being owned or ransomed? What if it doesn’t like being channelled into a harsh pipe system or into a smart cloud to go where it normally doesn’t want to go? What if those hurricanes and tornadoes and floods are water’s way of saying that it’s had enough?”

Hilde Dresden

“Thoroughly researched and cleverly executed, A Diary in the Age of Water is a must-read, especially for those who are longing for nature, and touch, while fearing both.”

CARA MOYNES, Amazon Review

“This novel made my heart clench…An extremely detailed and downright terrifying look into the future of our planet. A Diary in the Age of Water will appeal to lovers of eco-fiction and hard speculative fiction.”

GOODREADS REVIEW
Maple tree branches hover over shallows of Otonabee River, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)