“This is a spectacular collection of stories from the Global South and the ocean covering most of our planet. Whenever technologies alter human societies at a rapidly accelerating pace, Science Fiction becomes the preferred mode of literature. This book is one sign of that great shift into visionary futurism deployed to reveal the utopian possibilities still alive in our present time. It’s a delight to read.” Kim Stanley Robinson, author of The Ministry for the Future
“This is a collection of thought-provoking climate-fiction stories, elegantly told and so real they can only be set in futures that have already happened” – Anil Menon, author of The Coincidence Plot
“A thrilling reminder that our planet’s future will be shaped by the ocean and the cultures of the Southern hemisphere.” – James Bradley, author of Ghost Species and Deep The World in the Ocean
Southern Flows encompasses writing from the coastal regions of Africa, the Arabian Sea, the Indian Ocean and the Bay of Bengal, extending to Australia and Latin America. The volume has given Science Fiction writers a space to reflect on past experiences of maritime trade, colonialism, and imperialism. In these stories, we find an attempt to extrapolate from such historical experiences into both the near and far future, envisaging ecocatastrophes facing such regions in the time of accelerated anthropogenic climate change, as well as possible alternatives at the micro and macro levels, leading to the construction of distinctive storylines and variants of SF novum. Ecoceanic thus envisages a form of Oceanic futurism from the South, taking inspiration from movements such as solarpunk that delineate both critiques and alternatives to the current unsustainable socio-economic systems that are taking a heavy toll of oceanic ecosystems and coastal cultures.
Table of Contents Southern Introduction to Ecoceanic by Tarun K. Saint The New Frontier by Kaiser Haq (Bangladesh) Mare Tranquillitatis by Soham Guha (India) Hope at World End by Chinaza Eziaghighala (Nigeria) The Water Runner by Eugen Bacon (Tanzania/Australia) Undercurrency by Sam Beckbessinger (South Africa) I Speak with a Thousand Voices by César Santivañez (Perù) Half-Eaten Cities by Vajra Chandrasekera (Sri Lanka) I Had a Dream by Priya Sarukkai Chabria (India) Shroud and the Moon by Thoraiya Dyer (Australia) The Word for World is Ocean by Vandana Singh (India)
Vandana Singh was born and raised in India and currently lives in the Boston area, where she is a professor of physics at Framingham State University, and a science fiction writer. Although her Ph.D. is in particle physics, in recent years she has been working on the transdisciplinary scholarship of climate change, focusing on innovative pedagogies. She has collaborated with the Center for Science and the Imagination three times, twice on climate change–related projects. Her first collaboration (a story for Project Hieroglyph) led to the start of her academic work in the area, resulting in a case study of Arctic climate change as part of a program award from the American Association of Colleges and Universities, for which she traveled to the Alaskan North Shore in 2014. She was also a participant in a re-enactment of “The Dare,” as part of the Year Without a Winter Project, and has contributed a story to the upcoming anthology (forthcoming from Columbia University Press in 2018). She has been an invited panelist for the National Academy of Sciences working group on interdisciplinarity in STEM, and has taught in and/or co-led summer workshops on climate change for middle and high school teachers.
Vandana’s short fiction has been widely published to critical acclaim, and many of her stories have been reprinted in Year’s Best collections. Her North American debut is a second short story collection, Ambiguity Machines and Other Stories (Small Beer Press) that was No. 1 on Publisher’s Weekly’s Top Ten in Science Fiction when it came out in February 2018, and earned praise from Wired, the Washington Post, and the Seattle Times, among others. Locus Magazine’s Gary K. Wolfe refers to her as “one of the most compelling and original voices in recent SF.”
Ecoceanic: Southern Flows is a collection of short stories and a poem with the ocean as their major theme, written by authors from nations from the “global south” which are about to bear the brunt of the ongoing climate change. Edited by Tarun K. Saint and Francesco Verso, it offers fresh perspectives close to lived experiences and presents fresh arguments for emancipatory ideologies as well as challenging the anthropocentrism ubiquitous in mainstream discourse.
All the overwhelming information about climate change, its redressal by humanity perhaps too little too late, the crippling sense of despair and resignation and often the sheer absurdity of it all — all this is crystallised in Kaiser Haq’s inaugural poem ‘The New Frontier.’ Centring around the intensifying activities in the Arctic and the maxim “one’s boon is another’s doom,” it does not hide its misgivings as it gets under the skins of every player at all levels. The poem may be called a philosophical summary of the whole book.
Soham Guha’s ‘Mare Tranqullitatis’ takes the current Indian attitudes regarding climate change to their logical progression perhaps fifty years down the line. Almost no element in this story is fictitious; the defamiliarisation happens purely through upscaling which already seems inevitable. The ocean conceals the only surprise, nestled carefully inside one of the shrinking gaps of human knowledge. A nuanced story more pragmatic than speculative, ‘Mare Tranquillitatis’ leaves the reader wondering if it had more to say.
‘Hope at World End’ brings together teleportation and bioengineering to envision a way out of a climatic dystopia. The science is rather vague, but located in a suitably distant future after a Fourth World War. Chinaza Ebere Eziaghighala’s naming of the five interim habitable Domes as Asia, America, Europe, Australia and Nigeria is a smart dig at the sometimes used, ignorant practice of clubbing together the whole continent of Africa as a unit to be juxtaposed with countires from other parts of the world. The solution through bioengineering looks quite tangible from a 21st century perspective. The author’s deft use of the tricky second person narrative is remarkable.
‘The Water Runner’ by Eugen Bacon is a gruesome tale of total corruption in a dried-up hellscape in future Tanzania. Lives are expendable; corpses are commodities; love struggles against an atmosphere of pervasive suspicion. There is the promise of a marine utopia which sounds increasingly false as the story progresses. It ends on a dubious note with love’s defeat almost certain and even a menacing possibility of betrayal. Much like the land, the protagonists too are sucked dry of all their redeeming qualities.
‘Undercurrency’ shows a closer future fraught with the quest for a “middle path,” i.e. after the fashion of the real world it promotes a philosophy of balance. In face of looming environmental danger, Sam Beckbessinger promotes a path of cautious optimism. This optimism spills into its treatment of love as well, which in turn defies boundaries of nation and class. A subtler message is that of real change being effected through people “on the ground” and a first-hand encounter with nature reversing a detached, calculating and somewhat self-centred outlook.
‘I Speak with a Thousand Voices’ by César Santiañez may be the most open-ended story of the collection. Indigenous tradition, the unconscious mind, the individual will — all these are extolled as ways to counter the delusion of power responsible for a dessicated Peruvian landscape. It ends with the hint of an epic battle based on a breakthrough in green technology. The focus is on personal and communal tragedy and the callousness of generations of greed-blinded policymakers.
‘Half-Eaten Cities’ is a poetic reverie of a rising sea engulfing everything but stopping short of the “true wealth” of “them.” The overarching theme of Vajra Chandrasekera’s intense and condensed piece is segregation. The sea is made to understand the dichotomy of “us” and “them” and becomes the great divider of the two. In brilliant flashes of suggestiveness, everything from toxins in the ocean to interalised hegemony among the masses is solidified and satirised. There is no distinction between the public and the government or indeed between the powerless and the powerful, as the elusive “they” with the elusive “true wealth” could be anyone capable of reading this book. The true disaster, it is perhaps hinted, is in the act of segregation we commit by denying our oneness with nature and with each other.
Priya Sarukkai Chhabria’s ‘I Had a Dream’ is a stylised monologue of the ocean itself. She tells the story of the two goddesses of illusion and sleep, and interprets the current dissonance between civilisation and nature as the result of humankind’s leaning towards the former. The consequent prayer to the goddess of sleep can be interpreted as an attempt at bringing back balance, or a death wish, or both. This story, together with the preceding, are distinct in their use of language.
‘Shroud and the Moon’ by Thoraiya Dyer breaks new ground in narrative technique. It is a powerful reminder of a few facts, namely: the earth has been through eons of shifting climate patterns; the ocean was the cradle of life; the potential of marine microorganisms is endless; and consciousness may exist in forms widely more diverse than we yet know. This is the story which looks at the crisis of the anthropocene from a cosmic distance, and makes the reader feel the triviality and greatness that are at once to be found in a human being.
The concluding story, ‘The Word for World is Ocean,’ is an eco-utopia by Vandana Singh. While it recalls Ursula K. Le Guin’s story set on the planet Athshe in its title and James Cameron’s Avatar movies in its overall setting, it stands out as a more detailed attack on narrow individualism and an equally detailed celebration of possible harmonious interspecies societies. Both the world and its mythology are masterfully depicted. Le Guin’s influence may be discernible on several levels; but the story suggestively integrates those ideas with the current reality of our planet.
The stories and the inaugural poem of Ecoceanic are conscious efforts to read between the lines of the reality and discourse of climate change. With adequate science and a little fiction, some of them bewail the looming catastrophe while others seek possible ways to escape or overcome it. Chiefly in this search they uphold indigenous wisdom and practices which offer necessary alternatives to the aggressive and disastrous idea of development.
La fantascienza ha sempre guardato al futuro con gli occhi dell’Occidente, ma cosa accade quando le visioni di domani emergono da chi vive oggi le conseguenze più dirette dei nostri errori? Ecoceanica: Futuri dal Sud globale, si presenta come un’antologia che ribalta questa prospettiva.
L’antologia riunisce narrazioni provenienti da Africa, Mar Arabico, Oceano Indiano, Golfo del Bengala, fino all’Australia e all’America Latina, tutte accomunate da un rapporto viscerale con l’oceano e dalle cicatrici del colonialismo. In “Mare Tranquillitatis” di Soham Guha, assistiamo alla resistenza di comunità locali contro multinazionali avide nel Golfo del Bengala sommerso, mentre la vita marina evolve in forme che competono con l’umanità. “Città erose” di Vajra Chandrasekera immagina un futuro dove solo i tetti dei grattacieli emergono dalle acque e gli scienziati propongono branchie artificiali, ponendo domande inquietanti sulla natura dell’essere umano. Chinaza Eziaghighala, con “Speranza alla fine del mondo”, denuncia senza mezzi termini le compagnie petrolifere e lo sfruttamento delle popolazioni indigene nigeriane.
Il contributo di Singh, “Il nome del mondo è Oceano”, chiude la raccolta trasportandoci su una luna aliena quasi interamente coperta d’acqua, dove si esplora l’evoluzione di coscienze non umane in un esperimento mentale che risuona con il destino della Terra sommersa. Questa varietà di approcci rappresenta contemporaneamente il principale punto di forza e la sfida più grande del volume.
Da un lato, la molteplicità di sguardi conferisce a Ecoceanica una profondità rara. Ogni racconto porta con sé non solo una trama, ma un intero universo culturale, mitologie sommerse e memorie di luoghi che rischiano di sparire. La costruzione di questi mondi attinge alle esperienze storiche di commercio marittimo, colonialismo e imperialismo, proiettandole in futuri dove l’oceano diventa sia minaccia devastante che ambiguo rifugio. L’approccio solarpunk di alcuni autori offre un contrappeso necessario alle distopie acquatiche, suggerendo alternative sostenibili basate su energie rinnovabili e giustizia sociale. Non sono visioni ingenue, ma contronarrazioni che decostruiscono la prospettiva eurocentrica e mettono in luce le ingiustizie climatiche subite dal Sud globale.
I protagonisti raramente sono eroi solitari, ma piuttosto rappresentanti di comunità che affrontano trasformazioni radicali. Il loro sviluppo ruota attorno alla necessità di adattarsi, resistere o ridefinire la propria identità in mondi che non rispondono più alle vecchie regole. È un pattern che attraversa l’intera raccolta: dalla lotta contro forze apparentemente invincibili alle scelte esistenziali su cosa significhi rimanere “umani”, fino alla presa di coscienza di attivisti e figure indigene.
Ecoceanica si colloca nel territorio difficile della climate fiction politicamente impegnata, mescolando l’urgenza della denuncia con la necessità di immaginare alternative. Non sempre riesce a bilanciare questi poli, ma il tentativo merita attenzione. Ci ricorda che l’oceano non è uno sfondo esotico o una minaccia astratta, ma casa per miliardi di persone che ne scrivono il futuro con le loro storie, intrecciando fantascienza, mitologia e critica sociale. Sta a noi decidere se vogliamo ascoltarle prima che le onde cancellino anche le loro voci.
Posto che io non do mai più di tre stelle alle raccolte di racconti, questa mi ha sia entusiasmato che frustrato. Le valutazioni delle singole storie sono poste ai due estremi dello spettro, tanto che mi sento di dover spendere qualche parola su ciascuna. E già che c’ero, ho fatto anche una classifica
🌊 9) MARE TRANQUILLITATIS: confuso, al punto che non capivo cosa stava succedendo — ed è grave, visto che la narrazione era in prima persona. Salti temporali senza senso, personaggi senza profondità, la stessa protagonista risulta un foglio di carta bianca, visto che è tutto raccontato in tell. Appena l’ho letto, temevo che tutto il libro sarebbe stato così. Incomprensibile come possa essere il primo della raccolta, se siete incuriositi mi sento di dirvi di saltarlo o leggerlo per ultimo.
🌊 8) HAD A DREAM: confuso, ma con uno scopo, che è parlare dei sogni e sperimentare con il linguaggio. Peccato che per me sia un esperimento fallito (non vedevo l’ora di finirlo e passare a quello dopo).
🌊 7) SPERANZA ALLA FINE DEL MONDO: un pochino meglio, sarà che la narrazione in prima persona mi attrae sempre. Anche qui un po’ di confusa superficialità nel costruire il racconto, ma i colpi di scena lo redimono un po’. È il secondo della raccolta, se a questo punto volete mollare vi capisco ma tenete duro perché il meglio viene decisamente dopo.
🌊 6) PARLO CON MILLE VOCI: carino, mi è piaciuto come esplori le tribù amazzoniche, la loro storia e la crisi ambientale che stanno vivendo, ma onestamente è stato troppo breve per rimanermi impresso.
🌊 5) LA CERCATRICE D’ACQUA: punti per lo stile, evocativo e con una voce ben definita. Punti anche per le tematiche, spaventosamente attuali: il racconto mescola crisi idrica e diseguaglianza di genere. Non sono però una fan dei finali aperti, e gli altri racconti mi sono piaciuti di più.
🌊 4) LA COLTRE E LA LUNA: similmente a Flussi e Deflussi, anche questo parla di due storie d’amore tra poli opposti. Parla anche della fine di un amore, della fine del mondo e di quello che resta. Mi ha commossa, ma mi ha anche angosciata un po’ (e penso fosse quello l’intento).
🌊 3) CITTÀ EROSE: stupendo!!! Avrei sottolineato l’intero racconto. Non c’è molto in termini di trama, perché questo è più un sogno (o un incubo) mutato in poesia del futuro. E allo stesso tempo, parla proprio a noi che viviamo questo presente. Avrebbe dovuto essere il racconto d’apertura, a parer mio.
🌊 2) FLUSSI E DEFLUSSI: bellissimo! In questo racconto, due punti di vista opposti sulla protezione della biodiversità e sulla conservazione dei mari s’incontrano e dialogano, fino a trovare (forse) una soluzione migliore. Pieno di speranza, fa venir voglia di rendere le cose così semplici anche nella vita reale.
🌊 1) IL NOME DEL MONDO È OCEANO: che dire? È perfetto. È un viaggio in un nuovo pianeta, la luna Sumandra, fatta d’acqua. Esplora il concetto di comunità e maternità che non conosce confini. Parla di storie, della maniera in cui le parole intessono il mondo di significato. E poi c’è un cattivo da fermare e la giusta dose d’azione.
Fantascienza moderna ai massimi livelli. UUna raccolta imperdibile per chi ama il genere o per chi vuole leggere ottimi racconti sul domani prossimo venturo.