Nixon presents the idea of slow violence as a “violence that occurs gradually and out of sight…delayed destruction that is dispersed across space and time” (2356). He also presents the question of how can slow violence be seen in a way that goes against its insidious nature of not being tangible so that people will react in an urgent way? In an age where we don’t have the attention span even for media representations of fast-paced, action-packed disasters with immediate and evident consequences? Nixon notes that this is why the work of writer-activists is so important and the tools novelists use to tell a story must be used to express the complexities of slow violence. Unlike corporate media, which often doesn’t have interest in highlighting climate issues, novelists have the ability to build the story of the climate crisis with all its nuances and important contextual complexities of how we got to where we are today and what communities are being affected. One way novelists are able to do this is by “making social worlds by modeling individual consciousness in a relationship with imaginary but possible worlds” (LeMenager, 4). Writers have the technical and creative skills to tell a story and the devotion for it to be truthful in what it represents. These stories allow for the reader to connect the experiences of the characters living through the “everyday Anthropocene” as LeMenager calls it. We are able to see ourselves in “what it means to live, day by day, through climate shift and the economic and sociological injuries that underwrite it” (LeMenager, 6). These representations are, however, hard to find. Ghosh writes,” the mere mention of the subject [climate change] is often enough to relegate a novel or a short story to the genre of science fiction” (11). In the modern day novel, we see more of the everyday and the decline of the “improbable” (21). That makes us question where the themes of climate change lie when its effects are seen as something improbable yet evident in the experiences of our everyday lives. Ghosh says, “ the very gestures with which it conjures up reality are actually a concealment of the real” (28). Similar to stories of fiction, we must work hard to persuade people of the improbable yet blatant realities, using modes of storytelling to do so. And it must be done in a way that challenges how we see nature as a force unaffected by humans in fiction. Because we have contributed to the creation of climate change, our relationship to it is different. I think it instead parallels and relates to the narrative of humans creating the evil. It is not a separate force that has come to destroy civilization but something human-made. Through that representation, we can then hopefully take responsibility in taking urgency against it.

This excerpt from Ghosh’s The Great Derangement, titled “Stories” explores themes of probability, belief, and adaptation and their relation to the climate crisis and the issues we face in representing it.

Ghosh writes about probability and chance as they pertain to literature. He explains that in modern literature we have this aversion to improbability. If events are too unbelievable the reader will write it off as improbable and therefore unrealistic. He applies this to weather events by saying that the way in which these extreme weather events are occurring- and the scale at which they are occurring- if put in a novel would seem obviously and exaggeratedly metaphoric. They would seem out of reach, easy to explain away as a one-time thing. Chance, luck, some other intangible driving force behind them. But, as Ghosh so sharply observes, “to treat them as magical or surreal would be to rob them of precisely the quality that makes them so urgently compelling—which is that they are actually happening on this earth, at this time.” (pg 27). 

While reading this excerpt, I couldn’t help but draw some parallels between this work and LeManager’s “Climate Change and the Struggle for Genre”. In LeManager’s writing, she repeatedly mentions this concept of “learning to die”. By this she does not mean actually learning to die, but learning to let aspects of customs and culture die as a means of survival in this era where we are facing so many new challenges as a result of climate change. It is about learning to adapt, to change, to be willing to change. Ghosh writes about this idea, too. Specifically in section 11 when talking about disaster planning in cities that are likely to be increasingly affected by climate change. He says “If whole societies and polities are to adapt then the necessary decisions will need to be made collectively, within political institutions, as happens in wartime or national emergencies. After all, isn’t that what politics, in its most fundamental form, is about? Collective survival and the preservation of the body politic?” (pg 54). This idea feels alive throughout this entire excerpt though. For example, when he sows in the more unfamiliar aftermath of colonialism– houses and compounds that are built near the water as a symbol of wealth and how these places are threatened by climate change. Or, again, the alteration of Mumbai’s topography, specifically the destruction of natural drainage systems, causing flooding after intense downpours.  These situations exist because of years of ideas we have about wealth and power that are constantly reinforced by doing the same thing over and over again, but we have to move past these ideas in order to survive. The unwillingness to accept climate change as an imminent threat causes us to fall back into these foolish patterns and prevents us from acting effectively. We have to “learn to die”, or learn to let go. 

Ghosh uses very real tales of natural disasters and their tolls to emphasize that the climate crisis is a very real threat, but one that we as a society do not seem prepared for. It doesn’t even seem to exist in the foreground of many of our minds. These tales he tells, some of which are personal anecdotes (New Delhi tornado, the threat to Kolkata), feel very personal which serves to inform the reader in an impassioned sort of way. 

Ghosh titled this section “Stories”, which feels appropriate because the way he presents these events, ideas, and facts feels intimate, as stories always are. The way these natural disasters are detailed in this piece read like a novel, something I think is quite intentional (and clever). The juxtaposition of very intense ideas and realities with these story-like scenes (think Sundarban forest description in section 8), forces the reader to constantly be engaging critical thinking when moving through the ideas and sentiments in this work, to be conscious of the fact that this is reality. And it is a reality we must contend with. It is because he writes this way that readers are able to think deeply and emotionally, but also clearly and critically, about climate change and what the reality of it means for us.

Rob Nixon, from “Slow Death in the Anthropocene“, wrote themes of academic cultural criticism and creative nonfiction. He uncovers environmental degradation and climate change as the mainspring of atrocities such as: birth defects, desensitization of the media, the environmentalism of the poor, and an overall exploitation of the earth. A massive emphasis on the loss of humanity described by Edward Said as, “the normalized quiet powers of unseen powers”(Nixon 7). Nixon queries over the appropriate term used to describe warfare action in a country through a juxtaposition of, “military or even an imperial invasion” (Nixon 4). He comes to a striking but simple solution, being one’s further involvement in literature. Exacerbating the vitality of writing in a way that it can, “challenge perceptual habits that downplay the damage slow violence inflicts and bring into imaginative focus apprehensions that elude sensory corroboration” (Nixon 16). Bringing to light one’s thoughts can allow for suppressed perceptions that were malevolent, otherwise known as normalized ways of life, to be addressed.

LeMenager in, “Climate Change and the Struggle for Genre” dives into the everyday desensitization of global news with tragedies surfacing onto apps such as TikTok adjacent to feed that ultimately challenges long attention spans. Severe weather occurring often and the obituary of people whose lives are changed by natural disasters being broadcasted to weather news (LeMenager 11). Trans-corporeality is challenged by climate fiction (cli-fic) as it redefines humanism and humanities, with a hope to spark a social need for transformed day to day expectations (LeMenager 9). Dystopian readers are compared to those who are losing touch with reality. There is a thrill to apocalyptic genres which are undermining above issues, eerily known as a charismatic view of crisis (LeMenager 3). Donna Haraway talks about self-awareness and the aloof state of the elite (LeMenager 7). In “A Cyborg Manifesto” she reflects on the human-machine relationship that encourages the loss of humanistic joys and morals. Ta-Nehisi Coates says the fantastical has become illusive and is a peril to humanity (LeMenager 10). Roy Scranton figures one should die as an individual to let go of “predispositions and fear” (LeMenager 13).

There is a glorification of the “post human museum” which is uncanny in most cli-fi books. A comfort in accepting the normalized slow violence, which is this destructive coping mechanism used to perpetually pay a blind eye to the underlying violent practices of human existence. I wonder why humans have this inherent urge towards destruction. In the early 19^th century, F. T. Marinetti expressed in, The Futurist Manifesto, a tunnel vision of ecstasy fueled by violence and hatred for woman, ironically the very personification of life. Finding that the eerie cure for the world is, “militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman” (Marinetti 3). He describes the art of life, seen in our contemporary times, to be “ violence, cruelty, injustice” (Marinetti 4). Taking the initiative to overcome the world almost sounds like it comes from an all-powerful God that can dictate what is perfection. Nixon and LeMenager in their writings are the coalesced manifestation, a century later, of the slow buildup of violent measures to kill, steal and destroy. I cannot help but think this concept came from biblical inspiration due to John 10:10 claiming evil and good distinctly as, “The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.” Whether one is religious or not, evil comes to surface and shows up as 2 Corinthians 11:14 says, “an angel of light.” Humans excuse slow violence and defend it using lies dressed as truth, fallacies.

As Nixon pointed out, people have used sound terms to label a source of evil to normalize its potence in our society.  Is it the fear of change or of the unknown that fuels the resistance to uncover the slow violence? Or does it come from a place of genuine evil and malevolent intent towards humanity? Looking within myself, an urge for violence appears when I experience cuteness aggression, a phenomenon where one overwhelmingly wants to squeeze or bite a force appeared to be cute without causing actual harm. Why does one want to hurt or destroy what is beautiful? The emergence of sociology, psychology, and genetic studies may aid in figuring out whether this urge within humans is an argument of nature versus nurture, genetics or upbringing. Who can truly define what humanity is supposed to look like as societal norms are ever-changing? The mundane occurrence of a child smoking was once ordinary and is now frowned upon (LeMenager 16). It is almost humorous to see humans use their own efforts to dictate what is in social vogue. Both writers envision a eutopia where people are willing to avoid disaster through plausible discourse and solution, rather than scurrying to fix undoable tragedies. Looking at world history, we tend to put rotting band aids on the vicissitudes of human life.

Using Nixon’s concept of slow violence and LeMenager’s emphasis on the everyday Anthropocene, we notice the imminent destruction caused by environmental degradation, whose effects become unacknowledged as it unfolds. Once the adverse effects of climate become catastrophically irreversible, they become the main focus of the public eye – the new hot topic. At that point, the “small” issues must be so big because so much time has been wasted. Climate fiction “Cli-fi” serves to help reclaim lost time by incorporating these events into personal, collective stories that resonate with people on an emotional scale, bringing the audience’s focus to the unseen impacts of climate change. 

Novels focus on the lives of everyday people, which reveals how climate change affects people casually yet profoundly. Stephanie LeMenager argues that the everyday Anthropocene allows readers to place themselves in these imaginative yet semi-realistic scenarios – god forbid they happen one day – to work and educate themselves and become aware of the hardships others face globally due to climatic and environmental changes. LeMenager mentions the “abstract futurism” aspect of climate change, which, by thinking about climate change and its effects as something to happen in the future, allows people to prevent/protect the future ahead of time. “Own explorations for reseeding our home world,’ for making refuges for those threatened by displacement and extinction.” (LeMenager 7) People often disregard what Not everyone is aware of the Anthropocene, but in a sense, that is because what is happening is not affecting them in their everyday lives. LeMenager also mentions how human civilization has developed a strong understanding of the world through literature, history, and other scientific advancements. This accumulated knowledge is vital to changing the world around us, “If we are going to refuse to let ourselves sink into the futility of life without memory, then we must not lose our few thousand years of hard-won knowledge, accumulated at great cost and against great odds.” (LeMenager 18) Not everyone will be aware and knowledgeable enough to prevent climate change; climate change does not happen only in extreme weather events or distant places. Novels can help describe the little bits of their daily existence through small details, which raises awareness in various ways, helping prevent catastrophes, and is still better than not doing anything for the environment/causing significant damage. 

Nixon’s focus on the representational challenges of slow violence with LeMenager’s insight into the power of genre to capture the everyday novels offers a powerful narrative for exploring the profound, long-term consequences of climate change and humanizing its abstract threats. Nixon introduces slow violence as almost invisible damage done by climate change needs narrative forms that “render apprehensible.” This gradual destruction brings attention to what he calls “uneventful violence” (Nixon 2.), which can be viewed as fiction in the sense of predicting what might happen to the future and utilizing the descriptions of disastrous events in fiction to plan what to do and prevent such disasters from taking place in the future. Nixon also emphasizes the role of fiction, which engages with “the temporal dispersion of slow violence” and devises ways to “render them apprehensible to the senses” (Nixon 5.)​ Most of the time, what catches the eye of the public is not limited to newspapers or other news sources but can be made attractive to expand on the subtle effects of these topics and draw the viewers to what Nixon calls “layered invisibility.” “It is here that writers, filmmakers, and digital activists may play a mediating role in helping counter the layered invisibility that results from insidious threats, from temporal protractedness, and from the fact that the afflicted are people whose quality of life—and often whose very existence—is of indifferent interest to the corporate media (Nixon 18.) The public only pays attention to urgent issues, ignoring those suffering the effects of slow violence in the global south, less developed, politically powerless communities. 

By taking into account both LeMenager and Nixon’s points of view, we often disregard what is going on in the world around us; slow violence is a fundamental concept; people just do not have a sense of urgency when they hear the news run about environmental damage causing major hidden crises, the voices of marginalized communities are just as important as those in a more privileged part of the world. Instead, because these people are in less privileged parts of the world, we should speak up for them, advocate for their rights, and through writing – despite incorporating a fictional aspect – let the world know and educate ourselves and others about the future because if we do not protect the planet, no one else will.