{"id":32,"date":"2010-05-12T15:25:31","date_gmt":"2010-05-12T15:25:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.kent.ac.uk\/pandora\/?p=32"},"modified":"2010-05-13T14:49:09","modified_gmt":"2010-05-13T14:49:09","slug":"under-my-skin-defining-the-human-in-science-fiction","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.kent.ac.uk\/pandora\/2010\/05\/12\/under-my-skin-defining-the-human-in-science-fiction\/","title":{"rendered":"Under My Skin: defining the human in science fiction."},"content":{"rendered":"

Lying at the heart of most science fiction, it seems to me, is the attempt to define what it means to be human. Authors from Ray Bradbury, Philip K Dick, Isaac Asimov and William Gibson to modern darlings like Alastair Reynolds<\/a> and China Mi\u00e9ville<\/a> are, beneath their paranoid technicolour or cyber- or gothic steam-punk surfaces, offering an exploration of the human condition.<\/p>\n

A\u00a0recent episode of cult television series Dr Who<\/em> caused viewers to complain to the BBC<\/a> about the racy scenes between the Doctor and Amy Pond, admitting a previously, if not\u00a0unadmitted then unexplored, sexuality into the canon: resisting the lavish advances of a mini-skirted Pond, the Doctor declares \u2018I\u2019m nine-hundred and seven years old: think what that means!\u2019 Even here, science fiction is exploring the difference between Time Lord and human and the implications for their relationship.<\/p>\n