Snow covered farmer’s field at sunset, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Ice clad prisms, snow covered fields of glittering fire… Winter days, the wondrous glow: ultramarine lights and turning shades The magic song: ice and gently underflow of meandering streams Singing waters on the tortuous pathway below… Clangor, bell sounds: the moving harmonies on icy slopes…
Jackson Creek in winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Ice ‘islands’ touched by sunset light in Jackson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Ice block in Jackson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Farmer’s field in Kawarthas, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
A bronze feathered hawk sails high above Into the bright sunlit skies, Hawk, swiftly carried in its flight above bended fir and aspen forests, A wild, fierce, freewheeling majesty…
Icy bay and shed in the trees, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Small cabin in a meadow, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Trees by fence in farmer’s field, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Snow from a cedar tree showers down glitter-dust in a light breeze in Jackson Creek Park, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
The many pristine snow reflected lights, glittering fires Above a snow clad world in a time of darkness: Nature’s magic universe everywhere extant: We are overwhelmed, confounded by the wonder of it all.
Skier checks his path on a slope at sunset, BC (photo by Lindsay)
Snow glistening in the sunset on a very cold day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Reflections in Thompson Creek outlet after a new snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Otonabee River glittering in the sun, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Bev Gorbet is a Toronto poet. She has published several poems with the Retired Teachers Organization and most recently in “Literary Connection IV: Then and Now” (In Our Words Inc., 2019), edited by Cheryl Antao Xavier.
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.
“Mankind will continue to flounder when he underestimates Nature and sees himself separate from Her. Man is having his way with Her now. But eventually She will have her way with him. When they try to hang onto water, it will slip through their fingers. That’s what water does.”
Una Dresden
“In poetic prose with sober factual basis, Munteanu transmutes a harrowing dystopia into a transcendentalist origin myth. An original cautionary tale that combines a family drama with an environmental treatise.”
KIRKUS REVIEWS
Jackson Creek in early winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Issue #128 of Apex Magazine featured an interview that Rebecca E. Treasure did with me. We discussed the power of story, the use of dystopian narrative, and the blur between fiction and non-fiction to create meaningful eco-fiction. Below we talk about the role of stories in the climate action movement. For the complete interview go here:
AM:Your also stories bridge fiction with nonfiction, using speculative fiction as a lens to bring your subject into focus for the reader. How does that work? Why do you approach story in this way?
NM: Marcie McCauley with Temz Review observed that, “[Munteanu] does not appear to view fiction and non-fiction as separate territories; or, if she does, then this book [A Diary in the Age of Water] is a bridge between them.” In Herizons, Ursula Pflug called the book “a bit of a hybrid, and Munteanu a risk-taker.” Buried in Printwrote of the same book, “ultimately it exists in an in-between place, some mystical elements of the generational tale possibly alienating the dedicated science-y readers and the instructional elements possibly alienating fiction devotees. And, yet, I read on: strangely compelling.”
I find that I enjoy this in-between place that blurs fiction with nonfiction. It’s more edgy, gripping, and believable, albeit fantastical, even playfully challenging at times. For instance, I may subvert facts, creating semi-facts to tease the discerning reader (e.g. when the diarist in “A Diary in the Age of Water” observed that President Trump had gone blind from staring at the sun during an eclipse; while Trump did stare directly at the sun without eye protection during an eclipse in 2017, he did not go blind—yet). Readers have told me that the story was more impactful; they honestly didn’t know what was taken from fact and what was fictionalized. Such narrative reads like a true story and there is little more tantalizing than eavesdropping on another’s real experience and intrigue. The risk—that the blur will either confuse the reader or invalidate its truths and message—is hopefully addressed through compelling narrative that engages the reader. But this is also why I tend to include an extensive bibliography at the end of a novel or short story.
Readers have told me that my fiction/nonfiction storytelling trope, like “mundane science fiction,” grips my stories with a more keen sense of relevance. Given that I am writing mostly climate fiction and eco-fiction these days, that sense of relevance is exactly what I wish to achieve.
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.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking the bully is your friend…You can play with the bully. But don’t make him your friend. Demand his respect. Or you will become the bully.”
Una Dresden
“Lyrical and dystopian, ‘A Diary in the Age of Water’ is as much an ode to water as it is a cautionary tale about the dire implications of climate change.”
FOREWORD CLARION 5-STAR REVIEW
Jackson Creek after a heavy snow in early winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
The Darwin duology by Dragon Moon Press, depicting the late 21st Century, by Nina Munteanu
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In my 2007 novel Darwin’s Paradox and its 2010 prequel Angel of Chaos—dystopian tales set in an unrecognizable post-climate change Canada at the end of the 21st Century—the father of the main character lectures his impressionable young daughter about how climate change helped create the heathland scrub that replaced the mixed woodlands of the old Carolinian and sub-Boreal environments:
“What’s over there?” She points to a far, dark hill.
“Woodland. This was all forest before the cities got built and the climate changed.”
“Climate changed?”
“Yes, honey.” He focuses on the distance. “Caused the revolution thirty years ago. Since then the Ecologists have virtually eliminated our greenhouse gas emissions. Of course, the planet will be feeling the effects of global warming for decades to come. Perhaps centuries.”
“They saved the planet, didn’t they?”
His brows knit. “Perhaps they did, perhaps they didn’t,” he says enigmatically.
I’d originally written the novel and its prequel in the seventies, before entering university. So, you might think that I was incredibly imaginative and prescient to come up with such climate devastation. But this simply isn’t so (well, not entirely, anyway). Just as with Margaret Atwood—who says: “When I wrote the Handmaid’s Tale, nothing went into it that had not happened in real-life somewhere at some time”—I was simply reading the signs.
Margaret Atwood demonstrating a fire-proof version of her book The Handmaid’s Tale
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When it came to climate change, of course, I had some help. During my days at university, studying limnology, and in the 1980s and ‘90s when I worked as an environmental scientist and consultant, I encountered evidence of a changing environment and climate; people in the environmental sciences certainly knew the dangers of climate change long before it entered the common zeitgeist.
Science fiction dystopias aren’t so much predictive as realistically projecting possibilities based on current or past social patterns (these past social patterns, as Santayana notes, have a way of returning to us when we don’t pay attention to them). This notion lies at the root of the term cautionary tale and what makes one truly harrowing or terrifying; we sense to our very core how likely these scenarios are.
My near-future climate dystopia released by Inanna Publications in 2020
Response to my 2020 cautionary tale A Diary in the Age of Water reflects this visceral reaction by readers who shared that this blur of fiction with non-fiction and sense of realism—a “this could happen” quality—totally unbalanced them and engrossed them. Comments included “unique and captivating,” “unsettling and yet deliciously readable,” “strangely compelling” “scary and comforting at the same time,” “made my heart clench,” “a book of genuine power.”
Scene from Michael Radford’s film “Nineteen Eighty-Four” released in 1984, based on George Orwell’s 1949 novel
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Indeed, many successful predictions have been made in speculative fiction. In 1961, Stanislaw Lem’s novel Return From the Stars predicted the invention of the touch pad, iPhone, iPad and Kindle. The telescreens that monitored the citizens of George Orwell’s Oceania in his dystopian 1949 novel Nineteen Eighty-Four was reflected, twenty years later, in the first CCTV installed in the United Kingdom. Philip K. Dick’s Minority Report accurately predicted personalized ads, voice-controlled homes, facial and optical recognition, and gesture-based computing. Self-driving cars were showcased in many speculative books and films such as Bladerunner, and Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot.
Scene from the film Minority Report with Tom Cruise
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But many speculations have also not been realized. No flying cars—OK, some companies such as Toyota, Hyundai and Tesla are working on prototypes. While NASA plans to construct a surface habitat called Artemis Base Camp so that astronauts can remain on the moon’s surface for days or perhaps even weeks, it is far from happening soon. Also, no rotating space stations and space elevator—yet.
Many envisioned totalitarian/dystopian states in speculative fiction have also not been realized (e.g. We, Nineteen Eighty-Four, Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, Handmaid’s Tale, Hunger Games, The Dispossessed, V for Vendetta )—though one could argue that aspects of each world envisioned by an author has occurred or is occurring in some form. One need only recall Edward Snowdon’s disclosures of NSA’s insidious surveillance to see parallels with Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four. And as Margaret Atwood famously said in the quote above, nothing goes into her stories “that have not happened in real-life somewhere at some time.”
“The function of science fiction is not only to predict the future but to prevent it.”
Ray Bradbury
There are, in most cases, no technological impediments to the flying car, the jetpack, and moon-bases; only cultural ones. “These SF predictions ought to be viewed as visions of where we could be, as opposed to where we will be, or, keeping Bradbury in mind, visions of where we don’t want to go and, thankfully, have mostly managed to avoid to date,” says Steve Davidson of Grasping for the Wind. “Perhaps it’s all cultural,” he adds. Science fiction writer and futurist David Brin says that he is “more interested in exploring possibilities than likelihoods, because a great many more things might happen than do.”
In his book Four Futures: Life After Capitalism Peter Frase writes: “the importance of assessing possibility rather than likelihood is that it puts our collective action at the centre, while making confident predictions only encourages passivity.” In his 2010 essay, David Brin cites Orwell’s 1984 as a “self-preventing prophecy” that helped prevent the scenario (at least in its fullest).
George Orwell wrote his dystopian satire in 1949 about a mind-controlled society in response to the Cold War. The book was a metaphor “against totalitarianism and for democratic socialism,” said Orwell in his 1947 essay Why I Write, adding that, “Good prose is like a windowpane.” Was Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four a failed novel because the real 1984 didn’t turn out quite like his 1984? Hardly. Hugo Award-winning novelist Robert J. Sawyer argues that we consider it a success, “because it helped us avoid that future. So just be happy that the damn dirty apes haven’t taken over yet.”
References:
Brin, David. 2010. “The Self-Preventing Prophecy: Or How a Dose of Nightmare Can Help Tame Tomorrow’s Path.” in Abbott Gleason et al. eds., On Nineteen Eighty-Four: Orwell and Our Future. Princeton University Press, Princeton, p.222.
Frase, Peter. 2016. “Four Futures: Life After Capitalism.” Verso Press, London. 150pp.
Country road in the Kawarthas during a foggy morning, 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.
Rotary Trail in Peterborough during a foggy day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
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A few days ago, I woke up in the morning to a dense fog outside. I hastily dressed, grabbed a clementine, put on my boots and coat and raced outside into the gentle morning. The air was fresh. A calm stillness had settled over everything, from ghostly forest to dripping branches by the path to people who appeared and disappeared in the mist.
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Rotary Trail path to the bridge across the Otonabee River, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
As I strolled along the trail and forest paths, camera in hand, I realized that I needn’t have rushed; the fog didn’t burn away and dissipate beneath a strong sun. It remained foggy the entire day.
Path through winter forest on a foggy morning, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Thompson Creek marsh in the fog, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Otonabee marsh in the fog, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Dogwood shrubs add colour to the marsh as ice forms, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
At Thompson Creek marsh, crimson dogwood shrubs and gnarly trees greeted me with arms stretched through the fog. The damp air, fragrant with the stirring of Winter, caressed my cheeks. I felt like I’d entered a Camille Pissarro painting…
Alders, willows and other trees, amid ruddy dogwoods, line Thompson Creek marsh behind, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Road to Lakefield along Otonabee River in the fog, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
During my drive along the river, the calm stillness of the day settled over me with muted beauty. Nature’s shapes peered through the mist like quantum entangled apparitions, coalescing to the nearness of my gaze then vanishing again on my parting.
Shore of ice-strewn Otonabee River off Lakefield Road, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
1906 building on shore of Otonabee River during a foggy day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Small island in Otonabee River on road to Lakefield, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
I drove along country roads that vanished in the mist. As I plied through the fog, phantom trees loomed, quietly announcing themselves on the side of the road as their shapes assembled into something solid.
I imagined I was catching the breath of heaven…
Country dirt road in the Kawarthas on a foggy day, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Tree ghosts in a farmer’s field in Kawartha country, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Snow melt stream and marsh on the side of a country road on a foggy day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
The fog is a shape-shifter. Sometimes a brooding beast, obscuring all in its indiscriminate path. Other times an impish rogue, a pale coquette, winking and teasing as it both reveals and hides, like a good mystery novel…
Fog over the Otonabee River, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Thompson Creek marsh in a winter mist, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
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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.
Path to bridge over Otonabee River on a foggy morning, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
The strange merry-go- round will turn and turn; Season to season in sacred passage, Time’s gentle silences softly unwinding…
Marcescent Beech trees in a Kawartha forest during fog, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Days of a savage beauty: The world’s innate beauty, The world’s inevitable pain…
Snowmelt along country road in Kawarthas on a foggy morning, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
We, both predator and prey: Wild song, wild nature’s order… Moments of perplexity and loss, The many daunting questions: Unanswerable visions beyond the abyss.
Mallards feeding in Thompson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Too often the inaction, The inscrutable silences In a time of fear…
Tree reflected in Thompson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
The cruel histories: these misbegotten tales? Where has love gone this solemn time? Sacred memory and hope?
The Otonabee River during a snowstorm, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Generations have trod on unending journey Neither question nor answer to guide The lost ever lost, the perplexed ever perplexed… Love is all, time’s vast unwinding.
Thompson Creek marsh, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)
Bev Gorbet is a Toronto poet. She has published several poems with the Retired Teachers Organization and most recently in “Literary Connection IV: Then and Now” (In Our Words Inc., 2019), edited by Cheryl Antao Xavier.
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.
Willow, goddess of Purring Cat Meditation (photo by Nina Munteanu)
Her name is Willow, and she helps me centre my being…
Willow is a diminutive 18-year old Russian blue cat, who I looked after for some friends in Mississauga. When I first met Willow, she responded with reticence–like all smart discerning cats. She appeared so delicate, I was scared to pick her up. I soon realized that this was a fallacy. That not only could I pick her up but that she loved to be held. I just needed to learn how.
As soon as I did, we became best friends. And it all came together with the Purring Cat Meditation.
“Time to feed me, Nina!” says Willow (photo by Nina Munteanu)
It starts out with her finding me “doing nothing terribly important” like typing on the computer, or something. A soft but decisive tap of the paw on my leg and I have to smile at her intense look up at me with those guileless emerald eyes. I abandon my work–how can I ignore such a plea?– and pick her up. After all, I know what she wants…And so starts our journey toward “nirvana”… the meditative state that will centre our beings and ultimately save the world.
I wander the house with her. We check out each room and make our silent observations. We end up in the bedroom upstairs, where she normally sleeps (except when she’s decided to join me on my bed to sit on me and purr in my face in the middle of the night).
Willow playfully teasing (photo by Nina Munteanu)
In her sanctuary, we drift to the window that faces the back yard, now cloaked in the fresh drifts of winter snow. The window is slightly open and a crisp breeze braces us with the deep scent of winter. I breathe in the fragrance of fallen leaves, mist and bark…
Willow settles into a feather-light pose in the crook of my arms and I hardly feel her. More like she and I have joined to become one. We are both purring …
We remain in Cat-Purr-Meditation for …
I have no idea. It feels like moments. Infinity. It encompasses and defines an entire world. We’ve just created something. Just by being.
“Time to pick me up, Nina!” says Willow (photo by Nina Munteanu
Cats–well, most animal companions–are incredibly centring and can teach us a lot about the art of simply being.
And meditating…
Whenever I run across a bout of writer’s block or need to stoke my muse, instead of trying harder, I stop and reach out for my cat-friend.
And practice Purring-Cat Meditation…
First snow on the Otonabee River, Peterborough, 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.
First snow in Kawarthas, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
I move around a lot these days. It helps me to appreciate some of the most simple things in life and reminds me of what I love most about Christmas: how it focuses my heart and reconnects me. I don’t mean just with relatives and friends either, although the season certainly does that. I’m talking about my soul and the universe itself. Before I became an itinerant, Christmas bustled with my responsibilities as primary caregiver, social coordinator and hostess of major parties.
After I’d said goodbye to our visiting friends and done the dishes and tidied the house; after my husband and son had gone to bed, I sat in the dark living room lit only with the Christmas Tree lights and the flickering candle on my writing desk, and listened to soft Christmas music, primed to write…
My cat Sammy watching the world (photo by Nina Munteanu)
My male cat, smelling fresh from outside, found his rightful place on my lap and settled there, pinning me down with love. And there, as I breathed in the scent of wax and fir and cat I found myself again.
Christmas is, more than anything, a time of embracing paradox. It is an opportunity to still oneself amid the bustle; to find joy in duty; to give of one’s precious time when others have none, to embrace selflessness when surrounded by promoted selfishness, and to be genuine in a commercial and dishonest world. If one were to look beyond the rhetoric and imposed tradition, the Christmas season represents a time of focus, a time to reflect on one’s genuine nature and altruistic destiny. A time to reconnect with the harmony and balance in our lives.
First snow on path into the forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)
A time to sit with our cat, pinned with love, and write our next novel.
Merry Christmas!
Heavy snow day in Scots Pine forest, 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.