Montreal 2140: Hopeful Futures in Science and Storytelling Conference

McGill University, view from main gate on Rue Sherbrooke (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I’ve just returned from Montreal, where I was invited to participate in a two-day conference hosted by McGill University’s Bieler School of Environment at Esplanade Tranquil. Named after Kim Stanley Robinson’s eco-fiction novel New York 2140, the conference brought together a diverse assemblage of scientists, academic researchers, urban planners, speculative fiction writers, artists, and students in a small setting dedicated to encourage cross-pollination of ideas and visions through panels and workshops. I sat on a panel and a roundtable with other writers, urban planners, engineers, scientists and activists to discuss futures through science and story. Much of the event focused on the literary genre called Hopepunk—a sub-genre of Speculative Fiction devoted to optimistic themes of scientific transformation, discovery and empathy. Resulting dialogue explored forms of communication, expression, and ways not just to deal with growing solastalgia, eco-grief, and environmental anxiety but to move forward through action and hope.

Breakout groups in Seeds of Good Anthropocenes Workshop (photo by Nina Munteanu)
McGill faculty in Panel on ‘Turning Research into Hopeful Stories’ (photo by Nina Munteanu)

In the Thursday morning writer’s panel, in which we explored the role of science knowledge and hope in story, I shared the writing process I underwent with my latest published novel A Diary in the Age of Water, which I categorize as a hopeful dystopia (‘Hopeful dystopias’ are much more than an apparent oxymoron; they are in some fundamental way, the spearhead of the future—and ironically often a celebration of human spirit by shining a light through the darkness of disaster):

The main character in A Diary in the Age of Water was a limnologist like me who kept a journal (the diary referenced in the title of the book). This part of the story took place in the near-future when the water crisis and associated climate change phenomena had become calamitous. Being a scientist with so much intimate knowledge of the crisis, the diarist became cynical and lost her faith in humanity. I recall my own journey into despair as I did the research needed to convey the character’s knowledge and situation. I found myself creating a new character (the diarist’s daughter) much in the way a drowning swimmer takes hold of a life-saver, to pull me out of the darkness I’d tumbled into. The daughter’s hopeful nature and faith in humanity pulled both me and the reader out of the darkness. The cynical nature of the diarist came from a sense of being overwhelmed by the largeness of the crisis and froze her with feelings of powerlessness. The diarist’s daughter rose like an underground spring from the darkness by focusing on a single light: her friend and lover who pointed to a way forward. As Greta so aptly said once, “action leads to hope” and hope leads to action. Despite the dire circumstances in the novel, I think of A Diary in the Age of Water as a story of resilience. And ultimately of hope.  

I came to the conference as a writer, scientist, mother, and environmental activist. What I discovered was an incredible solidarity with a group so diverse in culture, disciplines, expression and language—and yet so singularly united. It was heartwarming. Hopeful. And necessary. This conference ultimately felt like a lifeline to a world of possibilities.  

Organizers brought in a wide variety of talent, skill, and interest and challenged everyone through well-run workshops to think, feel, discover, discuss, collaborate and express. Workshops, panels, and multimedia art incited co-participation with all attendees in imaginative and fun ways. On-site lunches and drinks helped keep everyone together and provided further space for interaction and discussion.    

Student-led break out group discussing ways to transform eco-emotions into hope (photo by Nina Munteanu)

At every turn, I made contacts across disciplines and interests and had stimulating and meaningful conversations. I discovered many hopeful ‘stories’ of Montreal and elsewhere on hopeful visions and endeavors. These included “Seeds of good Anthropocenes” (small ground-rooted projects and initiatives aimed at shaping a future that is just, prosperous, and sustainable); turning scientific research into hopeful stories; and world building as resistance. I talked with artistic creators, students doing masters in Hopepunk literature and co-panelists on all manner of subjects from urban encampments, greening and rewilding Montreal, to how Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring informed a main character in Liu Cixin’s novel The Three Body Problem. 

Creating visual art via MAPP (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Marc-Olivier Lamothe stands next to a MAPP projection (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Conversations often led to an acknowledgement of art as an effective means of expression and creative therapy in the context of the climate crisis. I met creatives such as Marc-Olivier Lamothe and his colleagues at MAPP and had the chance to experiment first hand with his creative tools. I had wonderful discussions with storytelling visual artist Alina Gutierrez Mejia of Visual Versa, whose evolving mural of each day’s events was truly mesmerizing to watch—and rather revealing.

Alina Gutierrez Mejia creates a visual representation of the day’s conference (photo by Nina Munteanu)

In future, I’ll post more on these and other creatives I encountered at the conference.

Program for Montreal 2140

THURSDAY morning began with an introduction by BDE Director Frédéric Fabry.

This was followed by a panel entitled Hopeful Stories Across Science and Fiction, in which I participated, along with fellow writers Su J. Sokol (author of Zee), Alyx Dellamonica (author of Gamechanger), Rich Larson (author of Annex and Ymir), Genevieve Blouin (author of Le mouroir des anges) and Andrea Renaud Simard (author of Les Tisseurs). The panel was moderated by McGill geographer Renee Sieber and McGill urban planner Lisa Bornstein.

After lunch, a panel entitled Faculty Workshop: Turning Research into Hopeful Stories was moderated by McGill researcher Kevin Manaugh and Annalee Newitz (journalist and author of Four Lost Cities). McGill researchers included: Caroline Wagner (bioengineering), Hillary Kaell (anthropology and religious studies); Jim Nicell (civil engineering); Sébastien Jodoin (law); and Michael Hendricks (biology).

McGill students who lead the workshop on Hope and the Future stand with one of the conference organizers Daniel Lukes (photo by Nina Munteanu)

The faculty panel was followed by the Student Workshop, Hope and the Future, led by McGill students Tom Nakasako, Rachel Barker, Tatum Hillier, and Lydia Lepki.

Annalee Newitz gives her keynote (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Annalee Newitz closed the day with their keynote presentation Worldbuilding Is Resistance that explored the dystopia binary of environmental science fiction. A theme to which the next keynote by Kim Stanley Robinson would touch on as well.

Elson Galang presenting Seeds workshop (photo by Nina Munteanu)

FRIDAY morning started with Elson Galang and Elena Bennett (McGill University), who led the Seeds of Good Anthropocenes Workshop, which introduced the concept of seeds programs then further explored through breakout discussion groups they moderated.

This was followed by faculty-led Teaching and Learning for Hopeful Futures Workshop, in which McGill instructors from varied disciplines (including education, political science, environment, urban planning and planetary sciences) discussed translating science into hopeful narratives.

pre-meet on Zoom of participants of the Roundtable

I then participated in a roundtable of authors, scholars, researchers and planners entitled Telling the Story of the Future, moderated by Chris Barrington-Leigh (McGill BSE/Health and Social Policy). The roundtable included fellow authors Alyx Dellamonica and Su J. Sokol. Other participants of the roundtable included Stephanie Posthumus (languages, literatures, cultures at McGill), Jayne Engle (public policy at McGill) Richard Sheamur (urban planning at McGill), and limnologist Irene Gregory-Eaves (biology at McGill).

BDE Director Frédéric Fabry introduces the conference (photo by Nina Munteanu)

The final keynote was given by Kim Stanley Robinson (author of New York 2140 and The Ministry of the Future).

Storyboard of the first day of the conference by Visual Versa (photo 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.

How Maude Barlow Sparked My Novel “A Diary in the Age of Water”

Maude Barlow, author of Boiling Point, Chairman of the Council of Canadians

Like a car, every novel has its point of ignition: a spark that sets it in motion. This occurs when a premise or idea comes together with an incendiary moment of clarity or a thematic question. Mine—though I didn’t know it at the time—happened in a church on the Summer of 2016.

I was in a United Church on Bloor Street, in Toronto’s Annex, watching a talk given by Maude Barlow on water justice. The radical talk was based on her recent book Boiling Point, a comprehensive exploration of Canada’s water crisis—a crisis that most Canadians weren’t—and still aren’t—aware. Canada is steward to a fifth of the world’s fresh water, after all. It is a water-rich country. Of the dozen largest inland lakes in the world, Canada holds eight of them. So, why water crisis? Barlow explains. And you should read Boiling Point, particularly if you’re Canadian. It will open your eyes to the politics of water and how multinational corporations—like Nestlé—are already grabbing and funneling water away from Canadians and into the global profit machine.

I sat close to the front of the Church sanctuary to best see her. But I soon noticed that many people had elected to sit in the gallery above. I found myself focusing on a young mother and her little girl. The girl had some paper and crayons and was busy with that as the enthusiastic mother listened to Maude deliver dire facts about corporate water high-jacking and government complicity.

I saw a story there.

What mother would take her pre-school child to a socio-political talk on water? I would later reflect that memory of the mother and her little girl through my characters Una and her little daughter Lynna, the diarist in my novel A Diary in the Age of Water (eventually published in 2020 with Inanna Publications).

Fresh water flows down the barrel of a hand-operated water pump.

My novel really began with a short story I was invited to write in 2015 by editors of Future Fiction and Mincione Edizioni about water and politics in Canada; the premise of this story would later find it’s way into the larger novel. I had long been thinking of potential ironies in Canada’s water-rich heritage. The premise I wanted to explore was the irony of people in a water-rich nation experiencing water scarcity: living under a government-imposed daily water quota of 5 litres as water bottling and utility companies took it all. I named the story “The Way of Water.” It was about a young woman (Hilda) in near-future Toronto who has run out of water credits for the public wTap; by this time houses no longer have potable water and their water taps have been cemented shut; the only way to get water is through the public wTaps—at great cost. She is in a line of people; she’s two metres from water—and dying of thirst.

“The Way of Water” captures a vision that explores the nuances of corporate and government corruption and deceit together with global resource warfare. In this near-future, Canada is mined of all its water by thirsty Chinese and US multinationals—leaving nothing for the Canadians. Rain has not fallen on Canadian soil in years due to advances in geoengineering and weather manipulation that prevent rain clouds from going anywhere north of the Canada-US border. If you’re wondering if this is possible, it’s already happening in China and surrounding countries.

The story first appeared in 2015 in Future Fiction, edited by Francesco Verso, and in 2016 as a bilingual (English and Italian) book and essay published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. The story has so far been reprinted seven times in magazines and anthologies, including “Cli-Fi: Canadian Tales of Climate Change Anthology” (Exile Editions, Bruce Meyer, ed), in 2017, “Future Fiction: New Dimensions in International Science Fiction” (Francesco Verso & Bill Campbell, eds; Future Fiction / Rosarium Publishing, Rome and Greenbelt, MD) in 2018; and in Little Blue Marble Magazine (Katrina Archer, ed) in January, 2019 and in their ‘Best of’ anthology. It was then published in 2022 in Metastellar Magazine and later in their ‘Best of’ anthology. “The Way of Water” received generous praise from review sites and the press worldwide.

After the success of this short story, I realized that I needed to tell the larger story—how did the world—Canada—get to where Hilda was? Her mysterious mother, the limnologist Lynna who was taken away by the RCMP in 2063, clamored for more attention. I remembered that four-year old girl and her mother in the gallery at Maude Barlow’s talk on water politics. And I thought of my characters: young Lynna and her mother Una. How does a daughter of an activist mother behave and think? How best to express her voice? I had earlier written a short story that was a mix of correspondence (emails) and third person narrative (“The Arc of Time” in Natural Selection, later reprinted in Metastellar Magazine), which I felt captured the voices of the characters well. I realized that a diary by Lynna would be an ideal way for her to express her unique worldview and cynicism—yet allow her vulnerable humanity to reveal itself through this unique relationship with her diary. The remaining characters and their narratives emerged easily from there: Una, her activist mother; Daniel, her conspiracy theorist colleague (and her conscience); Orvil, the water baron (and lover she betrayed); and Hilda, her “wayward” supposedly mind-challenged daughter—who appears in the short story that takes place later.

I had a lot of material; I had already been researching water issues and climate change in my activism as a science writer and reporter. In 2016, Pixl Press had published “Water Is… The Meaning of Water”, essentially a biography of water, written from the perspective of mother, environmentalist and scientist. I had practiced as a limnologist for over twenty-five years and could mine my various personal experiences in the field, lab and office with genuine realism. I chose Wetzel’s Limnology (the classic text book I used in my introductory limnology course) for quotes to each of Lynna’s entries; this added an opportunity to provide additional metaphor and irony through Lynna’s scientific voice. I placed the child Lynna (who was born in 2012) into actual events in Toronto, where I currently live. This pushed the story further into the area of documentary and blurred the lines between fiction and non-fiction to achieve a gritty and textured reality. Lynna also taught limnology at the University of Toronto, where I currently teach.

Just as Water Is… served as a watershed for all my relevant experiences as mother, environmentalist and scientist, A Diary in the Age of Water would galvanize many of my personal experiences, doubts, challenges and victories into compelling story. Although parts of the story wrote themselves, the entire book was not easy to write. There were times when I had to walk away from the book to gain some perspective—and optimism—before continuing. When I found myself drowning in Lynna’s voice, I invoked Hilda to guide me to shore. I found a balance that worked and compelled. Ultimately this opened to some of the best internal conflict and tension I have experienced in my writing.

Like water itself, A Diary in the Age of Water expresses through many vessels and in many perspectives, spanning hundreds of years—and four generations of women—with a context wider than human life. Through its characters, A Diary in the Age of Water explores the big question of humanity’s deadlock with planetary wellness and whether one is worth saving at the expense of the other. One of the characters asks Lynna the hard question: “If you had the chance to save the planet [stop the mass extinctions, deforestation and pollution ravaging the planet], but it was at the expense of humanity, would you do it?”

Water is, in fact, a character in the book—sometimes subtle and revealed in subtext, other times horrific and roaring with a clamorous voice. Water plays both metaphoric and literal roles in this allegorical tale of humanity’s final journey from home. The story explores identity and our concept of what is “normal”—as a nation and an individual—in a world that is rapidly and incomprehensibly changing—and in which each of us plays a vital role simply by doing or not doing.

A Diary in the Age of Water promises to leave you adjusting your frame of reference to see the world, yourself—and water—in a different way.

Illustration on Liisbeth article (photo collage by PK Mutch and Dreamstime

This is what PK Mutch of Liisbeth and Ariel Kroon (PhD graduate of English Literature at the University of Alberta and co-editor at Solarpunk Magazine) say about A Diary in the Age of Water, published by Inanna Publications in 2020:

The novel has received wonderful praise and prizes, including the Literary Titan Award, the Foreword Indies Award and finalist in the International Book Awards. I wonder if Maude Barlow has read it?… Maybe I (or someone) should get her a copy, huh?…

Maude Barlow with ‘Save our River’ sign

Maude Barlow is a Canadian activist and author of Blue Gold, Boiling Point and several other books on water justice. She chairs the board of Washington-based Food and Water Watch and Ottawa-based Blue Planet Project. Maude co-founded the Council of Canadians and chaired its board for over three decades.

Maude Barlow arrested in 2011 for environmental activism

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.

Walking the Autumn Verges

Fall colours of maple trees in the Mark S. Burnham Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

For the past few days, I’ve been wandering, entranced, in the various forests, swamps and marshes of the Kawarthas. I found myself inspired by the autumnal light and organic scent in the air.

They pulled me into the verge…

Poplar trees in the fall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

It’s the time of “the verge,” when the seasons collide in the wake of the equinox and anticipate the unruly winds of change. A moment of stillness before the Earth shifts, relinquishes, and embraces.

In the hush of a great threshold, Nature holds its breath and a leaf settles in the arms of a cedar root…

Largetooth aspen sits on a cedar root in the pine forest of Warsaw Cave Park, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Ancient pine, cedar and hemlocks in Jackson Creek forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

There I was, eyes and ears–all senses–wide, taking in Nature’s gifts of the verge. The rustling leaves in a cool wind. The musky smell of swamp water and the sweet rot of vegetation. The lazy gurgle of shallow creeks around smooth rocks. The halting shrill of a Blue Jay.

Jackson Creek in October, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

On one walk, a giant toad—the biggest I’d ever seen!—waddled across my path. I think it was an American toad, mottled and rough with warts. He looked rather grumpy and took his time, somehow confident—or not caring—that I could step on him and squish him easily. He was rather jiggly as he lumbered on. I did not take his picture; I don’t think he wanted me to, so I didn’t.

Fallen hemlock tree in Mark S. Burnham Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Soon after, a small garter snake slithered across my path, less confident of my steps. It froze once it was safely out of my way. Good snake…

The forest was alive with the domestic chaos of wildlife busy with itself. Chipmunks chugged and squirrels scolded from the tree tops. Surely not at me! I climbed out of the lowland of old-growth hemlock-beech swamp forest to the top of a drumlin of maple-hop hornbeam-ash forest and then descended again into the dark hemlocks and pines.

Maple tree showing deep colour in the fall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Red and sugar maples and aspens flame in the fall by the Otonabee River near Trent University, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

The colours of sugar and red maple blazed in the canopy above, frothy clouds of bright orange, red, yellow and everything in-between under a deep blue sky. I wandered, camera in hand, and found treasures everywhere—from blue fungi to tiny bright red maple leaves freshly fallen.

Various mushrooms in the forests of Ontario (photos by Nina Munteanu)

I have a silly habit of picking up leaves and pressing them when I get home; my books are repositories of colourful prizes from years past.

Small red maple leaf sits beside a hemlock sapling amid white fungi and moss on a nurse log in Mark S. Burnham forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Marsh in Ontario in the fall (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

In the marsh, I encountered a green frog, sitting in the mud. It decided to pose for my camera. And I obligingly took its picture. My new best friend.

No, I did not take him home. I left him there, lollying in the mud, looking very content.

Green frog poses for the author’s camera

For all I know he’s still there, presiding over the autumn verge…

Jackson Creek reflects the gold hue of largetooth aspen in October, ON (photo 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.

Interview with Author Simon Rose

My guest today is Calgary author Simon Rose, who has published eighteen novels for children and young adults, eight guides for writers, more than a hundred nonfiction books, and numerous articles on a wide range of topics.

Nina: Your most recently published books were those in The Stone of the Seer series. Remind us again of what it’s all about.

Simon: The Stone of the Seer is young adult historical fantasy series, featuring The Stone of the Seer, Royal Blood, and Revenge of the Witchfinder. The exciting story is mostly set in the mid-seventeenth century during the English Civil War. In The Stone of the Seer, Lady Elizabeth Usborne, Kate, and Tom encounter a magical stone, mysterious parchments and manuscripts, and an incredible time viewing device. In Royal Blood, Lady Elizabeth, Kate, and Tom are in London, witnessing the political turmoil at the time of the Civil War, including the king’s trial and execution. Revenge of the Witchfinder takes place in multiple time periods. The story features weird dreams, disturbing visions, parallel lives, and a bewildering identity crisis, as the lead characters discover to their horror that not even the passage of centuries can prevent a bloodthirsty witchfinder from the 1640s from seeking his deadly revenge.

Nina: Do you have any current projects?

Simon: Right now, I’m working on another historical fantasy novel series, this time set in the early years of World War II, that I’m hoping to publish next year. I’ve recently finished another story that takes place in the later stages of World War II and am putting the finishing touches to that one as well, potentially for publication the following year. Yet another series is currently in development in the same paranormal genre as my previously published Flashback series, which can learn more about on my website.

I’ve also been working on the script for a film project and continue to work on the adaptations of my Shadowzone series into screenplays for movies and TV shows. You can learn more about my work writing screenplays for clients and creating adaptations of my own work here on my website. 

Anyone interested in keeping up to date with the projects that I’m working on is always welcome to subscribe to my monthly newsletter, which you can do on my website.

Nina: You certainly seem to be very busy. You also do other work related to writing and publishing, right?

Simon: Yes, I offer coaching, editing, consulting, and mentoring services for writers of novels, short stories, fiction, nonfiction, biographies, and in many other genres, plus work with writers of scripts and screenplays.

I’m also a writing instructor and mentor at the University of Calgary and have some courses coming up in the fall, including Writing for Children and Youth. My own online courses, including Writing Historical Fiction and Writing for Children and Young Adults, are also always available.

I’ve just wrapped up work on a study guide for a fellow author’s historical fiction novel, set in World War I and World War II. You can learn more about my various coaching, editing, and consulting services, for all age groups and genres, on my website, as well as my services for business writing projects. 

Nina: So where can people buy your books?

Simon: People can buy The Stone of the Seer, Royal Blood, and Revenge of the Witchfinder, as well as all my other books, at Amazon and all the other usual places online, which you can link to on my website at www.simon-rose.com I’ll also be making some personal appearances at local events in the fall, where people can buy autographed copies of all the books in the series, as well as all my other novels.

Nina: Thanks Simon, for being my guest here today.

Simon: My pleasure, Nina.

You can learn more about Simon and his work on his website at www.simon-rose.com where you can also link to him on social media and at other locations online.

Nina Munteanu’s “The Way of Water” now in Best of Metastellar Year Two Anthology

She imagines its coolness gliding down her throat. Wet with a lingering aftertaste of fish and mud. She imagines its deep voice resonating through her in primal notes; echoes from when the dinosaurs quenched their throats in the Triassic swamps.

Water is a shape shifter.

It changes yet stays the same, shifting its face with the climate. It wanders the earth like a gypsy, stealing from where it is needed and giving whimsically where it isn’t wanted.

Dizzy and shivering in the blistering heat, Hilda shuffles forward with the snaking line of people in the dusty square in front of University College where her mother used to teach. The sun beats down, crawling on her skin like an insect. She’s been standing for an hour in the queue for the public water tap.

The Way of Water

My short story, The Way of Water, which was recently reprinted in Metastellar Speculative Fiction and Beyond (rated the second most popular online sci-fi magazine), is now in The Best of Metastellar Year Two, an anthology of forty-eight stellar short stories previously published with Metastellar.

The Way of Water was first published as a bilingual print book by Mincione Edizioni (Rome) in Italian (La natura dell’acqua, translated by Fiorella Moscatello), and English along with a recounting of what inspired it: The Story of Water (La storia dell’acqua) in 2016. The Way of Water has been reprinted several times, in magazines and anthologies, since its first appearance in 2016.

It all started with an invitation by my publisher in Rome in 2015 to write about water and politics in Canada. I had long been thinking of potential ironies in Canada’s water-rich heritage. The premise I wanted to explore was the irony of people in a water-rich nation experiencing water scarcity: living under a government-imposed daily water quota of 5 litres as water bottling and utility companies took it all.

I named the story “The Way of Water” (“La natura dell’acqua”), about a young woman (Hilda) in near-future Toronto who has run out of water credits for the public wTap; by this time houses no longer have potable water and their water taps have been cemented shut (as was done in Detroit in 2014); the only way to get water is through the public wTaps—at great cost. She’s standing two metres from water—in a line of people waiting to use the tap—and dying of thirst.

“The Way of Water” captures a vision that explores the nuances of corporate and government corruption and deceit together with global resource warfare. In this near-future, Canada is mined of all its water by thirsty Chinese and US multinationals—leaving nothing for the Canadians. Rain has not fallen on Canadian soil in years due to advances in geoengineering and weather manipulation that prevent rain clouds from going anywhere north of the Canada-US border. If you’re wondering if this is possible, it’s already happening in China and surrounding countries.

The Way of Water, in turn, inspired my recent dystopian novel A Diary in the Age of Water, which explores the lives of four generations of women and their relationship to water during a time of severe water restriction and calamitous climate change.

Publications (excluding online pubs) that featured The Way of Water

“The Way of Water evokes a sense of awareness about issues of access to water and about the dangers of imbalances in that access.”

Derek Newman-Stille, Speculating Canada

“In a short story in which every word has its weight, Nina Munteanu manages to describe a dystopia with ecological, political, social and economic elements and Hilda’s reactions to her situation with a great emotional intensituy. To avoid thirst, Hilda ends up embracing an extreme idea, a last hope linked to water. The Way of Water is a story of the kind you hope is science fiction but you fear is not.”

Massimo Luciani

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 Silver Bean Café: A Place to Write My Next Novel…

Cafe patio facing Otonabee River (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I’m a bit of a wanderer, an itinerant. A hobo, even. I house sat and pet sat for a decade. I travel light; I carry what I own in my Jetta. One of the things I look for when I first settle somewhere is a choice café and a place where I can walk—preferably in a forest by a river. The small unpretentious town of Peterborough, north of Toronto and entry way to the Kawarthas, has both. The Otonabee River flows through Peterborough, much of it protected by riparian woodland and marsh (it is Peterborough’s source of drinking water, after all). The place where I currently live allows me to walk daily—rain or shine or snow—through riparian forest along the Otonabee River.

And then there’s the café part…

Silver Bean Cafe and boat wharf on the Otonabee River in Millennium Park, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Cafe entrance to King Street and ice cream booth (photo by Nina Munteanu)

The Silver Bean Café fills that requirement wonderfully. It’s a café situated at a dead end of King Street within a linear riparian park (Millennium Park) on the banks of the river with a large side-park patio under a canopy of willows, black locust, and Manitoba maples. They know what they are too: they call themselves “your waterfront cottage in the city.” When I sit on the patio, enjoying my lunch under the dappled shade of a flowering black locust tree with a view of the river, I hear only birds and the desultory chatter of fellow patrons. And yet, the city is right there, next to this riparian park.

Stairs up to Silver Bean Cafe patio from boat wharf, beneath canopy of flowering black locust trees (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Riverside patio overlooking Otonabee River, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
River boarder paddles by on Otonabee River, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

As I sit, eating my lunch and breathing in the ambrosia fragrance of black locust blooms, a young man paddles his canoe past the café. Soon after, a family of geese, adults flanking seven goslings, paddle leisurely by. Gulls cry out and gather on one of the small islands as a freight train lumbers over the old rail/footbridge downstream. A robin hops close to my table, looking for crumbs and I clumsily drop a seed from my multi-grain sandwich… Oops! Darn, I wanted that…

Family of geese paddle by cafe on the Otonabee River (photo by Nina Munteanu)

2023 is the Silver Bean’s 20th season, their website tells me. They opened in 2003 as a community café, serving light lunches with speciality sandwiches and salads, breakfasts, freshly baked scones, desserts and, of course, locally roasted coffee and espresso drinks. Oh! And their nook by the street-side serves at least thirty different flavours of my favourite Kawartha ice cream!

View of Silver Bean Cafe patio and boat rental wharf from park walk, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

One day, I was sitting on a stone step by the river on the park walkway, eating my peanut butter chocolate ice cream cone and watching a mother mallard and her chicks in the water. A well-dressed lady sat nearby with a take out coffee. Slipping off her shoes in the sun, she shared that she worked in the government building nearby and came here daily for her fix of sanity. I nodded sympathetically then smiled to myself. I felt the guilty pleasure of not being on ‘the clock.’ She left soon after. I stretched my legs in the sun, found my muse, and daydreamed about the next book I was going to write…  

Black locust with fragrant flowers in spring, overlooking the Otonabee River, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. 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 recent book is the bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” (Mincione Edizioni, Rome). Her latest “Water Is…” is currently an Amazon Bestseller and NY Times ‘year in reading’ choice of Margaret Atwood.

Movie Review: Venture to “The Beyond”

The Beyond is a 2018 science fiction thriller, set in the near-future, that explores the evolution of our humanity through “first contact.”

Wormhole suddenly appears

The sudden appearance of a wormhole causes the disappearance of astronaut Jim Marcell during EVA on the space station, followed by associated calamitous phenomena on Earth. Giant dark spherical clouds then appear and settle all over the Earth, disrupting the world’s population, and setting in motion a series of fearful and aggressive reactions by various sectors of humanity; as expected, the military of each nation mobilize, ready to attack. Some do attack, with no consequence.

Alien spheres appear over several cities

With the help of the military’s groundbreaking transhumanism technology, the international space agency sends two transhuman (Human 2.0) astronauts into the wormhole (called the Void) on an information-seeking (and peace-seeking) mission. The astronauts have been modified by advanced robotics to withstand the pressures of the “throat” of the wormhole as they embark on humanity’s first interstellar—possibly inter-dimensional—journey in search of extra-terrestrial sentient life and its intent. One of the astronauts is a soldier, armed with additional weapons built into his physiology. The other is the Space Agency’s chief cosmologist, Jessica Johnson (played by Kosha Engler). When the mission returns unexpectedly, and without the soldier, the space agency races to discover what happened on the “other side.” Of particular interest is evidence indicating that the ship had been away much longer than the days it was actually gone. Johnson later reveals that the soldier had suddenly disappeared from the cockpit and reappeared outside. She saw him stare at his arm, which then detonated like a nuclear bomb—no doubt because his arm was indeed something of that nature.

Jessica transformed into Human 2.0 for space travel

The tag line of the movie says: “to find our place in the universe, we must venture beyond our boundaries.” This imaginative indie film by Hasraf Dulull is all about breaking boundaries and transcending beliefs: such as mission director Gilian’s first lie to her daughter (to contain a bigger lie by the space agency); and chief cosmologist Jessica conquering ethical barriers to embark on a journey that will irrevocably change her.

Canadian Gillian Laroux is mission commander

The story unfolds like a docu-drama, making use of interviews with key people and retrieved footage amidst dramatic narrative (similar to Blomkamp’s District 9). The mixed narrative creates an immediacy that grips us emotionally and deeply connects us to the characters in a real-life way. Characters are portrayed as ordinary people who find themselves in extra-ordinary circumstances and performed with genuine candor, particularly the mission commander Gillian Laroux (Jane Perry) who plays a Canadian.

The Beyond appeals to our senses and sensibilities, challenging our assumptions and definitions of what it is to be human through our values, hopes and fears. Told with an unassuming realism, The Beyond is really a simple, yet deeply meaningful story that asks the big questions—and leaves it for us to answer them.

The climax, discovery and resolution is really more of a question. I was somehow unprepared for the discovery and emotionally struck by its trajectory into the denouement. Some reviewers on the Internet were off-put by the shift following “the discovery” that preceded the denouement at the end. I found closure for the chief cosmologist, who had sacrificed her life to seek answers and find a solution for humanity; however, the question remained: what is that solution for humanity? What does that solution look like and how does it encompass more than us? The movie doesn’t have a tidy end; its solution is veiled with more questions.

The film ends with a cautious hope, implicitly asking that big question: are we (humanity) worth saving? When Jessica asks why humanity was offered a second chance by benevolent beings way beyond our comprehension, the returned Jim Marcell (currently a spokesman for the aliens) shows her the GAD (Golden Archive Drive with video images of Earth and humanity—basically our “hello” message to extra-solar life like the one placed onboard NASA’s Pioneer missions) that had accompanied the ship into the wormhole. The message displayed scenes of mothers and their children, people laughing in joy; it also showed scenes of other aspects of this beautiful planet worth saving: the ocean surf, the forests and wildlife. In our hubris, we have lost our perspective about this planet. Perhaps, it wasn’t so much humanity the alien beings intended to save but the Earth itself; we just come along with it. The Earth is, after all, a beautiful, vital and unique world, rich with life-giving water, trees, animals, creatures of all kinds in a diverse network of flowing and evolving beauty. A planet worth saving and that, frankly, functions better without us.

Jessica 2

So, the question remains: is humanity worth saving? For centuries we have hubristically and disrespectfully used, discarded and destroyed just about everything on this beautiful planet. According to the World Wildlife Federation, 10,000 species go extinct every year. That’s mostly on us. They are the casualty of our selfish actions. We’ve become estranged from our environment, lacking connection and compassion. That has translated into a lack of consideration—even for each other. In response to mass shootings of children in schools, the U.S. government does nothing to curb gun-related violence through gun-control measures; instead they suggest arming teachers. We light up our cigarettes in front of people who don’t smoke and blow deleterious second-hand smoke in each other’s faces. We litter our streets and we refuse to pick up after others even if it helps the environment. The garbage we thoughtlessly discard pollutes our oceans with plastic and junk, hurting sea creatures in unimaginable ways. We do not live lightly on this planet. We tread with incredibly heavy feet. We behave like bullies and, as The Beyond points out, our inclination to self-interest makes us far too prone to suspicion and distrust: when met with the unknown, we respond with fear and aggression rather than curiosity and hope. Something we need to work on if we are going to survive–and find our place in the universe.

The Beyond is a simple film made well; something not easy to accomplish. The film delved into existential questions with an emotional intelligence that was both sensitive and insightful. As Gillian Laroux says in the end: “I hope we won’t make the same mistakes of the past and prove that we are in fact worth saving.” Ultimately, I found The Beyond a refreshing change from the senseless soul-gutting violence, and sordid aimless or overly-complicated plots that currently populate most of our current science fiction TV and movies.

The Beyond marks the directorial debut of Dulull, a VFX wiz who spent a year shooting and working on this project (previously titled The Void). Changing the title from The Void to The Beyond is itself an interesting shift in what the film represents and suggests.

Let us tread more lightly on this planet, then…And perhaps we too will be worth saving. Perhaps our destiny won’t be a void but a transcendence beyond…

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.

Movie Review: Advantageous

“There are women with voices and brains and power and intelligence that have been waiting for this moment.”—Director Jennifer Phang

Advantageous is a low budget indie film by Jennifer Phang that explores a near-future world—a kind of “pre-dystopia”, according to Katharine Trendacosta of io9—where jobs have become heavily automated and opportunities for education are cutthroat. Women have been generally forced out of the workplace and onto the streets: the logic being that they will be less violent while living on the street than men.

While the world vaguely resembles a vibrant City with flying ships and some bizarrely futuristic architecture (including a high rise that functions as a giant water feature), a sense of unease permeates most scenes, punctuated by occasional terrorist explosions and snippets of disturbing news reports.  Artificial intelligence has supplanted most people in middle management, “The people you do see are either impoverished and disenfranchised or are hidden in the upper floors, the protected places,” says director Jennifer Phang. Unemployment is close to 50% and there are no public schools. The only options for a young girl—if she is not to end up on the streets, either as a beggar or prostitute—is to attend a highly selective free magnet school or a very expensive private school.

Gwen Koh (Jacgueline Kim) is the spokeswoman of the Center for Advanced Health and Living, a wellness corporation that offers health and beauty treatments to an elite who can afford it. When the Center informs her that she looks too old, Gwen—desperate to secure her bright daughter’s expensive education—submits to the experimental treatment she was initially hired to promote. Jules hadn’t made it into the free magnet school, leaving Gwen to come up with extensive funds to get her into a private school. The corporation has subtly backed Gwen into a corner by reminding her that her generation doesn’t have the skills to compete—all of education currently being STEM-based—and they fully understand that she is too old and too unconnected to do anything other than offer herself up to their new procedure to secure her position and a future for her daughter Jules. Constantly walking the edge of privilege, Gwen struggles to make the elite-connections necessary to place Jules. “Gwen is too old, too female, and too unconnected to do anything other than offer herself up as a sacrifice,” writes Trendacosta.

Gwen and here daughter Jules share a moment

The true nature of her sacrifice is not understood at first; it unravels slowly, like an internal wound, until we learn that the procedure—putting her memories into a younger person’s body—means that Gwen’s “mother-connection” awareness with her daughter will be lost when her original body dies in the procedure. This is particularly significant, given their close and loving relationship, which is evocatively conveyed throughout the film.

Advantageous “is riveting, emotionally gripping, and offers up a vision of the future that is disturbingly easy to picture, even as some of the technologies it imagines seem out of reach,” says Ariel Schwartz of Business Insider Magazine. While the trope of mind-upload into a younger, prettier body has been around for while in standard SF, how Phang presents it, in the muted notes and pace of “everyday” and “mundane” events, brings a kind of realism to it that both invigorates and chills. Like watching a building explode in person rather than on TV. The immediacy and reality of it is visceral. Phang does this through sparing use of sound, language and colour. And all presented in a pace that does not rush, but lingers and reflects. Long moments of quiet punctuate scenes of significance, giving us the chance to examine, resonate and reflect in “real-time” with the character. These, in themselves, provide some of the most poignant footage of the film as we are given the time to descend into deeper reflection. Each plays out, short vignettes of life that string together like pearls on a necklace. Life moments. Unflinchingly and confidently performed at the pace of life.  

In one of many quietly powerful scenes, Gwen stumbles upon a street woman, huddled in a small grassy alcove under an old blanket. When Gwen asks her if she is okay, the woman instead responds, “Are you okay?” This is a natural response for a woman; we think of others, of their welfare. We carry the “mother” archetype within us, everywhere we go, no matter what befalls us. This natural sense of compassion and altruism runs through our blood.

And, yes, it makes us a different kind of hero.

Gwen’s heroics are not accompanied by percussive violence or gut-wrenching action; they are silent choices that percolate from deep within. They are choices that ultimately bleed into great consequence.

Gwen and Jules read something together

“The plot suggests a standard ‘body swap’ sci-fi storyline,” says Danielle Riendeau of Polygon. “But Advantageous is much more about motherhood, the sacrifices women make for their children, and to a large extent, the difficulties of being a non-white woman in an increasingly intolerant society. The writing, directing and performances are so strong that they elevate the film far beyond a simple twist on a classic trope. Advantageous is a potent, heartbreaking meditation on parental love and the sacrifices women make for their families. It has a lot to say, and it does so with clear-eyed, fearless intensity.”

Trendacosta writes, “People are going to judge Advantageous by the things it lacks. There are no battles, no mustache-twirling villains, and not even any giant science fiction spectacle sets. People are also going to judge it for what it has. There are some intense discussions of classism, racism, ageism, sexism, and elitism. But don’t judge this movie for either of those things—instead, it’s worth appreciating for all the things it does so incredibly well.”

What Advantageous does so incredibly well is portray a near-future vision worth pondering and discussing.

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.

Author Interview: Craig H. Bowlsby and “The Girl Who Was Only Three Quarters Dead”

Craig H. Bowlsby is a writer from Vancouver whose story “The Girl Who Was Only Three Quarters Dead,” published in the April 2022 Issue of Mystery Magazine was just recently declared the Winner of the Crime Writers of Canada Award of Excellence for Best Crime Short Story for 2023.

This noir/ dystopian story, set in Vancouver B.C., finds Suki prematurely awoken from an induced suspension between being alive and dead. With her retinas deactivated and her Government persona suspended, it’s up to her long-time friend and private investigator, Gabe, to uncover why she was brought back early and the way forward to recover her identity. Through the gritty and flooded streets of East End Vancouver and the mega corporations who control their entire existence, Gabe and Suki scheme to claim what is rightfully Suki’s.

Crime Writers of Canada

The story is set in the near-future in a post climate change Vancouver when sea level rise has water lapping decrepit buildings north of The Oak Street Bridge on Oak and 77th, Amazon owns entire roadways, and people pay corporate credits as currency.

One of the aspects of this mystery story that I found particularly attractive and interesting was Bowlsby’s use of cross-genre (mystery with science fiction), for which he indicated he has an affinity in his interview with Erik D’Souza with Crime Writers of Canada. I was reminded of the eco-techno thriller style of Hayden Trenholm’s detective series The Steele Chronicles, also set in the near future in Alberta Canada where biotechnology strays into the hands of corporate moguls and fundamentalist cults.

Bowlsby manages to cram both rich and seamless world building in his story (a feat in any short story), addressing mundane aspects of life, including the nuances of language (e.g. swear words suited to the time and place). Deadland, for instance, is a slang word that describes a government program that allows people to temporarily commit suicide, allowing them to place their lives on hold to supposedly help them escape their problems and supposedly better cope later (Bowlsby tells us rather pithily that it doesn’t really work).

Characters were fully fleshed out and interesting and I found that I would very much like to see more stories set in this universe with Gabe and Suki.

Interview

NM: One of the first things I noticed and loved about the story is its title. How did you arrive at it? Is there a story behind the choice?

CHB:  There’s usually more than one story behind my titles. It started with a very different title for a couple of years. Then I began to revise the story very seriously and that meant I had to reconsider the title too. I postulated hundreds of titles over three more years and ended up with a new one. But a friend pointed out a slight logic problem with that new title, related to the story. So, I had another reason to work on it. Normally if it doesn’t feel right, I always look for something that resonates better. Finally, this one resonated well, and wouldn’t be shaken off.  

NM: What was the spark or inspiration for this story? Why did you set it where and when you did (post-climate-change Vancouver)?

CHB: Well, when Erik De Souza asked me about the social commentary of the story in his interview, I forgot that the germ of the first inkling of this story came from a discussion I had with a friend, twenty years ago, who felt that everything in our society should be available for sale. For him that represented a pure state that would fix all our problems. (Sorry Erik—I’ll explain this when I see you next.) I disagreed, but I wondered what it would be like if we started on that path. So as a social background, the characters are acting within a stage created for such a system—a system just starting to find its own steady legs. I don’t say it’s bad or good—I just give it free rein. The story itself came from other elements, but the characters’ difficulties are complicated by the hyper-capitalism. As for the climate change problem, and the flooding, that came naturally with the near-future time period; I’m afraid it’s going to happen no matter what we do. As for Suki, her main problem stems from an idea I had about how we might alleviate suicides. Even if it might not work very well.    

NM: In your interview with Erik, you both discussed the use of language as a way to describe the world and create the gritty noir tone of the story. Can you describe some of the ways you derived them and other techniques you used?

CHB: That was hard. Or at least, it forced me to work my synapses hard for years. I don’t really know how I came up with the language changes except I set myself that task and used my brain like a sifter. I needed words for certain kinds of things, put myself into the future, and rattled hundreds of words through the filter. I kept lists of possibilities and used the best ones. I suppose that helps create the tone, but a lot of things do that: attitudes, social background, plot, etc.

NM: You mentioned in your interview with Erik that this story was “essentially a failure” and you’d been tirelessly working on it for five years, polishing, changing, revising—until finally someone liked it. Can you describe the process you went through in writing, preparing and getting out this story? Was this an exception for you or part of a typical process?

CHB: A typical process. Only a few of my stories have been published without being rejected by other publications. This story was first a short story, then a screenplay for a long time, then back to a short story, which meant at that point I had to cut out many scenes. Then it failed many more times in other publications. I just felt though that it generated so many sparks in my mind that it should catch fire somewhere, sometime. It was a surprise when it did. So, for some reason my stories need a lot of work. I’m guilty, therefore, I suppose, of not giving a story time enough time to mature, so in the future I should probably take more time to revise things before they see an editor. Generally, that’s a good approach, though, because you can come up with things that work better if you give them time to appear, which is what happened with this story.  

NM: Your writing has covered non-fiction and many genres of fiction: science fiction, fantasy, space adventure, mystery, thrillers.  How would you describe yourself as a writer?

CHB: An activationist. But I just made that up because of your question. I get an idea and I have to activate it, no matter the theme or genre. I don’t see myself restricted in any way to theme or subject. But I definitely feel an affinity for a plodding detective, no matter the time period or plot. (Or plod).

NM: What’s next for Craig H. Bowlsby?

CHB: I have several projects ready or pounding on my skull to get out. I have a series of three novels in the works about a Shanghai detective in 1917. Two in this series are complete. One takes place mostly in Shanghai; the next mostly in Vancouver; and the third will take place in Shanghai again.

NM: Now that you’re rich and famous, will you still talk to me? I’ll be in Vancouver soon and would gladly celebrate, starting with you buying me a beer!

CHB: I guess that sounds fair. Although I think I already owe you a six-pack. I enjoy our discussions, Nina. See you then!

You can read Craig’s story in the April 2022 Issue of Mystery Magazine. You can listen to Craig’s interview with Erik D’Souza here.

Glade in Jackson Creek, 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.

TV Series Review: Living With Scarcity & Uncertainty: The Merits of “3%”

Michele and Fernando collaborate in the cube test

Candidates have three minutes to make nine cubes out of a pile of blocks in the centre. Those who complete the puzzle in time will move on to the next test; those who don’t are eliminated and must return to the slums—their one chance at a better life dashed. Among the nine candidates in the room are Rafael (Rodolfo Valente), who steals a cube from another candidate to get his nine. Michele (Bianca Comparato), who initially out of kindness helps Fernando (Michel Gomes), who’s reach to the pile is limited, is in turn helped by him when she is shy one cube: at time-end, he cleverly piles her eight cubes into one large cube—the ninth—and she passes the test.

So begins Netflix’s 3%, a Brazilian dystopian thriller series created by Pedro Aguilera and directed by Cesar Charlone. In a kind of Hunger Games contest, candidates cheat in self-service; others violently impose Darwinian entitlement and survival of the fittest; yet others rely on reciprocal altruism.

3% is set in the near future after the planet has fallen into a divided haves and have-nots through some calamity. Three percent of the population live well on an island in the Atlantic Ocean, called Offshore (Mar Alto). The remaining 97% struggle Inland with poverty and scarcity. A selection process lies between them.

Every year the 97% send their 20-year olds to undergo The Process, a grueling Hunger Games-style contest run by the Offshore elite to replenish their numbers. Only 3% of the candidates will be considered worthy. They must pass psychological, emotional and physical tests to earn a place in Mar Alto.

3% test

By the time Season 1 is over, candidates will have committed a full range of desperate and unsavory acts to make the cut—the stakes are high, after all: secure a position in the 3% elite or die in squalor and poverty. After being eliminated during the interview process, one youth throws himself off a balcony of the testing centre.

Major players in Season 1 of 3%

“It’s not so far from our own world, where the competition to get into a good school and land a good job drives many to self harm,” writes Matthew Gault on Motherboard. “In the 3%, as in our own world, society looks down on those who don’t achieve and there’s a certain kind of person who believes that life’s losers earned their place at the bottom.”

Ezekial, who runs “the Process” speaks to the new contestants

Inland is valued by the elite only for its reserve of youth to recruit Offshore’s strictly controlled population (you only find out how in the last show of Season 1). As for what personality and fitness The Process tests for is also uncertain. “You each create your own merit,” says Ezequiel, who runs The Process, to the candidates. “No matter what happens … you deserve this.” The corollary is that if they don’t have merit—value, as determined by Ezequiel’s Process—they don’t deserve to move Offshore. There is, of course, a resistance to The Process, called The Cause. They cause stirrings of unrest and may even be responsible for the first murder in Offshore in over 100 years—which puts Ezequiel’s Process under question. Ezequiel dismisses The Cause by suggesting that it operates “in the name of a false or hypocritical equality.”

There is no inherent equality or fair entitlement in a land of scarcity; there is only proof of merit to a limited resource. This meritocratic notion—and the need to prove one’s worth to be accepted—is so ingrained in society that not even the poor question it. It was American writer John Steinbeck who argued that socialism would never take off in America because the poor see themselves as “temporarily embarrassed capitalists.”

Michele and Joana in the poor section of town

We find out in the first show that the first murder in 100 years has occurred Offshore—which puts Ezequiel’s Process under question. And there are stirrings of unrest—some likely instigated by The Cause.

“3% is a brutal commentary on the world’s rising income inequality and the lengths we’re all willing to go to improve our lot,” writes Gault. “It’s a world of extreme income inequality where techno-fascists rule with an iron fist…Brazil has some of the highest income disparity on the planet,” writes Gault. “São Paulo is a megacity where the ultra-rich travel the skies in rented helicopters and cruise the streets in bulletproof cars. It’s a city where the poor live in makeshift favelas that resemble something from William Gibson’s nightmares. It’s a city where plastic surgeons do a brisk trade in reconstructive ear surgery because kidnapping is common and the easiest way to prove you’ve got a mark is to send their ear.”

Ezekial confronts Fernando in 3%

With each episode, 3% examines the motivations and paradoxes of heroism and villainy, sometimes turning them on their sides until they touch with such intimacy you can’t tell them apart. At its deepest, 3% explores the nature of humanity—from its most glorious to its most heinous—under the stress of scarcity and uncertainty. How we behave under these polarizing challenges ultimately determines who we are.

3% joins the ranks of several other films and shows about near-future scarcity-driven societies, with two examples below:

  • Snowpiercer—a stylish post-climate change apocalypse allegory. The train’s self-contained closed ecosystem of scarcity is maintained by an ordered social system, imposed by a stony militia. Those at the front enjoy privileges and luxurious living conditions, though most drown in a debauched drug stupor; those at the back live on next to nothing and must resort to savage means to survive. Minister Mason, an imperious yet simpering figure who serves the ruling class without quite being part of it, reminds the lower class that: “We must each of us occupy our preordained particular position. Would you wear a shoe on your head? Of course you wouldn’t wear a shoe on your head. A shoe doesn’t belong on your head. A shoe belongs on your foot. A hat belongs on your head. I am a hat. You are a shoe. I belong on the head. You belong on the foot. Yes? So it is. In the beginning, order was prescribed by your ticket: First Class, Economy, and freeloaders like you…Now, as in the beginning, I belong to the front. You belong to the tail. When the foot seeks the place of the head, the sacred line is crossed. Know your place. Keep your place. Be a shoe.”

  • Advantageous—Jennifer Phang’s “pre-dystopia”, where jobs have become heavily automated and opportunities for education are cutthroat. Women have been generally forced out of the workplace and onto the streets: the logic being that they will be less violent while living on the street than men. Artificial intelligence has supplanted most people in middle management. “The people you do see are either impoverished and disenfranchised or are hidden in the upper floors, the protected places,” says director Jennifer Phang. Unemployment is close to 50% and there are no public schools. The only options for a young girl—if she is not to end up on the streets, either as a beggar or prostitute—is to attend a highly selective free magnet school or a very expensive private school.

In his book Four Futures: Life After Capitalism, author Peter Frase considered effects of climate change and automation in possible outcomes of a post-Trump election America. Frase envisioned four scenarios based on abundance and scarcity and whether a society operated by equality (e.g., communism or socialism) or hierarchy (rentism, exterminism).

With scarce resources, socialism (aka Ecotopia) may arise within an egalitarian society if driven by altruistic notions of self-limitation. Ecologists describe such a self-limiting system as K-selected (see my discussion of K-selection and r-selection in “Water Is…”). A K-selected population is at or near the carrying capacity of the environment, which is usually stable and favors individuals that successfully compete for resources and produce few young. The K-selected strategy runs on a successive gradient of maturity, from initially competitive to ultimately cooperative. Competition is a natural adaptive remnant of uncertainty and insecurity and forms the basis of a capitalist economy that encourages monopolization and hostile takeovers. Competition results from an initial antagonistic reaction to a perception of limited resources. It is a natural reaction based on distrust—of both the environment and of the “other”—both aspects of “self ” separated from “self.” The greed for more than is sustainable reflects a fear of failure and a sense of being separate, which ultimately perpetuates actions dominated by self-interest in a phenomenon known as “the Tragedy of the Commons.” Competition naturally gives way to creative cooperation as trust in both “self ” and the “other” develops and is encouraged through continued interaction.

Exterminism (aka Mad Max) may arise under a hierarchical model, driven by greed and exacerbated by uncertainty in the environment—not unlike what we are currently experiencing with the planet’s system and cyclical changes. In this scenario, in which resources are both limited and uncertain, those with access to them would guard or hide them away with desperate fervor. Frase writes:

“When mass labor has been rendered superfluous [through automation], a final solution* lurks: the genocidal war of the rich against the poor.”

Gault says it best: “3% hits so hard because it seems bizarre and distant, but as the show unwinds and reveals its mysteries, audiences will come to realize that we’re already part of The Process.”

*the Final Solution was originally used by Nazi Germany as “the Final Solution to the Jewish Question”; the Nazi plan to exterminate the Jews during World War II, formulated in 1942 by Nazi leadership at the Wannsee Conference near Berlin, culminated in the Holocaust, which murdered 90 percent of Polish Jews.

References:

Fisher, Mark. 2009. “Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative?” Zero Books. 92pp.

Frase, Peter. 2016. Four Futures: Life After Capitalism.” Verso. 160pp.

Gault, Matthew. 2016. “Netflix’s ‘3%’ Turns the Google Job Interview into a Dystopian Nightmare.” Motherboard, November 27: https://motherboard.vice.com/en_ca/read/netflix-3-percent-review

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

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.