In “Cli-Fi Georgic and Grassroots Mutual Aid in Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower,” Daniel Clausen discusses how Butler’s novel portrays climate change and societal collapse while emphasizing the importance of community and mutual aid. He argues that Butler’s work reflects the genre of “cli-fi” (climate fiction) and uses elements of the “georgic,” which focuses on the cultivation of land. He addresses that the novel explores ways of working with the land and building communities with the help of others rather than relying on capitalist, nationalist, and hierarchical systems, suggesting that people can survive climate disasters and societal collapse by working together.

Clausen, in a way, identifies Butler’s novel as “georgic,” the idea of dealing with agriculture and being “concerned with nature as the site of labor: how do we eat? What must we do and how should we process it?” (281) This is portrayed throughout Sower. Lauren’s concern from the beginning was how to survive if a crisis occurred. She educated herself with the resources available to her, which later helped her and her non-biological family, also known as kin, survive her journey up North. This is also further portrayed when they all decide to settle on Bakole’s land. Lauren is suddenly demonstrating hope that they will survive and this hope is rooted in her knowledge of how to survive on land.

Clausen further argues the novel’s way of working with the land and building communities with the help of others rather than relying on the “all-powerful white man” to save the day, as he states on page 276, “the narrative [does] not demonstrate is the white supremacist apocalyptic narcissism of a survivalist, settler ‘jeremiad’ that happily imagines a reactionary primitivism or resurgence of patriarchy.” This can inspire readers of Sower to copy Lauren’s strategy, and how she survives because of mutual aid and cultivations of land.

However, Clausen’s praise of Lauren’s character and her tactics of survival may oversimplify the complexities shown in Butler’s novel. For example, he strongly argues that mutual aid is crucial in surviving a crisis, which may give the reader the idea that it is easy to work with others to survive. This is far from the truth. Lauren’s disability can benefit her in sensing who she can and cannot trust. However, for someone without this disability such as Harry. When Lauren wanted to bring in Travis, Natividad, and their child, Harry was extremely hesitant, especially since they all knew not to trust anybody. Lauren saw something in this family that the other didn’t, which allowed her to see that they were potential allies. Emphasizing being extremely careful about who to trust will further benefit readers as they see the Parable of the Sower as a “how-to” novel.

In “The Great Derangement”, one argument that Amitav Ghosh makes is that science fiction as a genre belongs in the “outhouse” of literature, partially due to its tendency to rely on dramatic, futuristic, not-quite-our-reality details to prove its point or further its plot. It might be this dedication to remaining part of the mansion of “real fiction” that makes his novel, A Hungry Tide, one that, though its plot is entirely reliant on the structure of climate and its changes over time, does not feel to be a cli-fi novel. Instead, it feels more that Ghosh is using the kinds of symbolism and language that invite a broader audience — not just science fiction readers—and through these devices he seems to be making connections to nature or science.

One way Ghosh does this is by describing the environment as something that just is. Passengers coming off boats and wading through silt up to their hips, or people tying mesh nets around their bedposts to keep out snakes are just examples of everyday life. Not too much time is spent on explaining why these things happen, they just do. No one besides readers spontaneously, is made to feel surprised by these details. Instead, I find myself more inclined to look at the relationships between characters like Piya, Fokir, and Kanai, and by looking at the ways these characters are similar or different, I see some connection to ideas about the anthropocene that we read by Frazier and Haraway, rather than it to be handed to me in the way typical sci-fi might.

For example, one of the first and compelling differences between Piya and Kanai is that Piya can only speak English, while Kanai can speak “six languages not including dialects”. However, Piya’s “Words” chapter shows us other ways things can have meaning and other ways we can communicate without the very human tool of language. Fokir’s ability to handle the water and be weary of predators while still making productive use of the nature around them demonstrates Haraway’s emphasis on the daily anthropocene. The knowledge Fokir has of water, land, and food result from a lifetime of being embedded in these daily habits, passed on culturally. On the other hand, the silence in the way Piya and Fokir act, the way Fokir helps Piya, and even Piya’s studying of dolphins is kind of reflective of Frazier’s “becoming animal”. There is something very simple about Piya and Fokir’s connection from an anthropic perspective: they can’t relate to each other, they can’t speak to each other, they are of different lives and genders and backgrounds. However, when taking away these “civil” differences, they still remain connected, and neither Piya nor Fokir have any claim to be better than the other–they are on the same horizontal plane. On this plane also exists the respect for tigers, the necessity of living around animals and nature, and the interaction with nature that subtly reflects this horizontal idea.

The way that Ghosh frames details the silt to the hips, the animals, the poverty– that might have been otherwise front and center in sci-fi novels makes him different as an author, but the fact that these details even exist in his story at all still put him in a position of criticizing and commenting on human nature, but in a way that fits his mansion v. outhouse narrative. I wonder how effective this method is in the long term as a method of talking about the moment we’re in, and how to deal with it.

Think/Pair/Share on Ghosh:

• two minutes to think and write about the prompt
• two minutes to talk with a partner about it: just grab the person next to you!
• then we’ll share your pair’s thoughts with the big group

Like virtually all novels, The Hungry Tide uses romance to explore difference, and the possibility of creating new social mixtures of various kinds. What are some of the gestures towards romance represented in the novel thus far? What do they say about the various gaps the novel is trying to bridge, and what some of the obstacles stand in the way?

The beginning of the novel ‘The Hungry Tide’ by Amitav Ghosh immediately immerses the reader in a world where human lives and the natural world are deeply interconnected yet balanced. Set in the background of the Sundarbans, the vast, and arguably mysterious mangrove forest, the novel begins with a journey, both physical and symbolic, introducing characters who will explore the boundaries of place, identity, and the concept of dependency and survival.The novel begins with Piya Roy, a young marine biologist of Indian ancestry, as she arrives in Kolkata to begin her journey into the Sundarbans in search of the Irrawaddy dolphin. From the start, Ghosh paints a portrait of the landscape, the water-bound geography, and the alienation Piya feels as she navigates a country that is familiar but more so foreign to her. The first few scenes in the chaotic streets of Kolkata can be interpreted as her discomfort with her heritage and the overwhelming energy of the land. She is, after all despite her ancestry, a foreigner in her ancestral homeland, having spent her life in the United States. This feeling of not quite belonging is significant theme that resonates throughout the book in more aspects than not.

At the same time, the novel introduces Kanai Dutt, a wealthy, urbane Delhi businessman who is visiting the Sundarbans for personal reasons. In stark contrast to Piya, Kanai is familiar with the land, however superficially, from past visits to his aunt, who lives in the region. His sense of self-confidence, obvious cockiness, and urban sophistication set him apart from the rough realities of the Sundarbans. His arrival  represents a return to a world that he left behind, a world he has yet to fully understand.

The initial chapters invites readers to reflect on the heavy oppositions throughout that are central to the book. There is the contrast between urban and rural, between the scientific and the mystical, and between the familiar and the unknown. Piya’s scientific quest is rooted in logic and depends on observation, but the landscape she enters is shaped by myths and legends. This sets up an important sort of  tension between knowledge and the mysteries of nature. An example of this tension comes when Ghosh describes the Sundarbans as a place where “the boundaries between land and water are always mutating, always unpredictable.” This not only refers to the literal geography of the lands, but it is also a metaphor for the flexibility within the novel’s themes of identity, dependency, survival, and human relationships with nature. The constant shift between waters and lands mirrors a sense of instability of the lives of the people who live there, as well as the uncertainty that Piya and Kanai face in their own  journeys.

Ghosh’s use of landscape is more than where a novels set, it acts as a significant part of the novels telling almost like it’s a character in a way. The natural world of the Sundarbans is not benevolent or static, but a dynamic that shapes the lives of its inhabitants. This is most evident in the ways that the tides dictate the flow of daily life. The tide governs when and where people can travel, how they hunt and fish, and how they protect themselves from the dangers of the forest. The unpredictability of the water also mirrors the unpredictability of the encounters that Piya and Kanai will have as the story progresses, as well as the danger that lurks beneath the surface of their journeys  At the novel opening lies a sense of anticipation.

Both Piya and Kanai are embarking on journeys that will challenge their precoceived perceptions and test their resilience. For Piya, it is a scientific expedition, but there are emotional and existential undertones to her quest as well. She is searching for more than dolphins, she seems to be seeking a connection to her work, and to her heritage. Kanai, on the other hand, is on a journey of discovery about his past, his family. The Sundarbans is a place where survival is not just a matter of physical endurance, but also of understanding the intricate forces, natural, human, and historical that shape life in this very unique environment.

The tensions between human ambition and nature’s power will play out in unexpected ways. As Piya and Kanai begin their separate but interwoven journeys, we’re left to think of the broader questions, how can we navigate the spaces between land and water, knowledge and excessive mystery,  ourselves self and the other? The answers, like the tides seem to be constantly shifting.