The elevator pitch here is 'Watership Down with bees'. I'm going to pause for a moment, to let you ponder that. There's a dash of Hunger Games in there too, as 'Flora 717' (born into a mute caste of Untouchable worker bees, but mysteriously gifted with bee-speech and saved for their own reasons by the higher up bees from the bee-extermination usually meted out to 'deformed' bees) struggles with the totalitarian structure of the hive. But, still. Basically: Watership Down with bees.
I'm old enough to remember watching the peerless David Nobbs/BBC comedy The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin (the original, I mean; not the rubbish remake). In the third series of that show, broadcast 1978-79, Perrin opens a sort of commune for all his friends so they can all get in touch with their authentic tuned-in, dropped-out selves. C.J., his erstwhile boss, stimulated by the new environment, lets loose his creative energies. He writes Watership Down with ants.
C.J.: But I wonder if you all would like to hear an extract from my novel on—ants!I couldn't shake the memory of that sketch as I read The Bees. As I read Watership Beehive. As I read Plague Bees. As I read Lord of the Bees. As I read Bees of the Flies. As I read Bees-y Rider. As I read No Sex Please, We're Bees. It's a fine line between Creatively Estranging and Just Silly; a fine and important line. More important for writers of the fantastic than for other kinds of writer, I feel.
Elizabeth Perrin: Novel!
Reginald Perrin: Ants!
C.J.: I know what you're going to say...
Perrin's Staff Members: [all speaking together] You didn't get where you are today by writing a novel about ants!
C.J.: Exactly, but it's never too late for a leopard to change horses in mid-stream.
Reginald Perrin: What is your novel called, C.J.?
C.J.: I haven't decided between Watership Anthill, Plague Ants, Lord of the Ants, Ants of the Flies, Charley's Ant or No Sex Please, We're Ants.
Reginald Perrin: Yes, I can see the difficulty, C.J. Tricky choice, tricky choice! It would be too much bother for you to go and get the book.
C.J.: [Pulls manuscript from his pocket] I just happen to have an extract here with me.
Reginald Perrin: Oh, dear.
C.J.: [reading] "The owl led Thrugwash Blunt through the forest and then suddenly without any warning—"
Staying on the right side of the line is one thing. The other option is to go boldly over the line and keep going, so that you end up as Ben Marcus or David Bunch rather than back in T. H. White's ants' nest. Perhaps there's an 'uncanny valley' here - the point is not to avoid going too far, but to avoid going just far enough.
ReplyDelete("Please prove you're not a robot." Ha.)
Wise words, Robot Phil. Actually -- very wise. There is a Silly version of the Uncanny Valley, and that's where this novel nestled. For me at any rate.
ReplyDeletePhil - Do you mean David R Bunch? Loved his stuff. He went so far over the line that he couldn't ever look back and see it. Creative estrangement to the power of ten. A true original, totally sui generis.
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