Octavia Butler was one of the only writers I feel spoke for my culture. Born in 1947, She died yesterday after a fall outside her home in Washington. What can you say about a boundary-buster who's very last novel was titled Fledgling? Diagnosed with dyslexia as a child, she went on to win the prestigious Hugo and Nebula awards for science fiction writing. She was also a MacArthur "genius" fellow and deeply loved daydreamer who left us at the height of her powers.
She told stories from the people, with a distinctly African-American sensibility. Butler got weird, such as the insane ethical quandaries of Kindred, the story of a black woman sucked through some portal back into slavery days (along with her white husband!). But isn't that just like life? Problems you couldn't dream up... and that nobody every wants to talk about.
In my two favorite books by her, The Parable of the Sower and The Parable of the Talents, she explored the seeds of what is coming to be in the collapse of the American dream through the journey of a young, black woman named Lauren Olamina. She suffers from a condition called "hyper-empathy" in a dystopic near-future California that's an archipelago of walled communities surrounded by social and ecological disintegration.
In the failure of her father's religion, Lauren becomes the prophet of a new philosophy called "Earthseed," which to my simple eye is good, ol' fashioned dialectical materialism... with a penchant for space travel. Her collected writing are a high expression of what Robin Kelly called the Freedom Dream.
Let the opening words of the Parable of the Sower speak now for Octavia Butler's well-lived life:
All that you touch
You Change.
All that you Change
Changes you.
The only lasting truth
Is Change.
God
Is Change.
Kazembe Balagun, a leading voice of New York's lumpen intelligentsia, recently interviewed Octavia Butler for the Indypendent. The full text follows along with some defining titles from the genre of speculative fiction she came to personify.