Space and beyond: The Frontier Theme in Science Fiction
Book by Gary Westfahl; Greenwood Press, 2000
Introduction:
Frontiers Old and New
Gary Westfahl
In 1961, when President John F. Kennedy successfully sought to rally support for
a major program of human space exploration, he described outer space as "the New
Frontier" -- a phrase of unusual evocative power for his American audience. For,
as first argued by historian Frederick Jackson Turner in 1893, America was then
viewed as a nation created, defined, and continually reinvigorated by its
experiences in exploring and taming various frontiers: "The frontier is the line of
most rapid and effective Americanization," Turner claimed. "[A]t the frontier the
environment is at first too strong for the man. He must accept the conditions which
it furnishes, or perish, and so he fits himself into the Indian clearings and follows
the Indian trails. Little by little he transforms the wilderness, but the outcome is not
the old Europe. . . . [but] a new product that is American" (3-4). According to
Turner, the open lands and harsh conditions of the frontier had helped to engender
the uniquely American commitment to democratic ideals and its spirit of
independence and self-reliance, national traits that endured even as each American
frontier was successively transformed into a bastion of civilization. What Turner
had first articulated, then, was a saga that could serve as an American myth of
origin, repeatedly enacted throughout its history and, as persuasively argued in
Richard Slotkin Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-
Century America, visible throughout American literature as well.
But the government had declared that the true American frontier had vanished
as of 1890 -- the announcement that triggered Turner's musings. What would
happen to the United States when it was no longer actively engaged in conquering
a frontier? The question could be postponed for a while, since one can maintain
that the government's declaration was premature. Throughout the first decades of
the twentieth century, there remained areas of America where people could enjoy
a frontier life, with no modern conveniences or contact with the outside world; and
even if there were no unexplored realms within the United States, adventurous
Americans, both in person and in fictional narratives, could venture into other
regions of the world -- like the African jungle, islands of the South Pacific, or the
North and South Poles -- where mysteries might still await, and where a version of
the frontier experience might still be available.
In the 1940s and 1950s, however, the end of the American frontier became
inescapably apparent. With campaigns for rural electrification, increased air travel,
and expanding radio and television networks, virtually every part of America
became closely connected to civilization; the world was now both thoroughly
mapped and, as evidenced by independence movements and global decolonization,
in no mood to play host to adventurous Americans. When 1958 was universally
celebrated, with hoopla and scientific initiatives, as the International Geophysical
Year, it seemed to signal a new era for America: life in a world without frontiers,
where the United States was one of many sovereign nations poised to join
cooperatively in worthwhile ventures to improve the human condition. As someone
exposed to this internationalist vision as a child, I can report that it was not without
appeal, though it clearly represented a sharp departure from the traditional ideology
of the frontier-conquering American.
As evidence for this hypothesis of a sea change in American perceptions
around this time, consider that the 1950s represented, by all accounts, the golden
era of the American western film. In the classic movies of that decade -- such as
Shane, High Noon, The Searchers, and Rio Bravo -- there was often an elegiac
mood, portraying the inevitable end of a noble but outdated ethos and lifestyle.
Shane was an admirable hero, but he was going away, and he couldn't come back.
The frontier's Rugged Individualist had been supplanted by civilization's
Organization Man.
Yet two events planned in conjunction with the International Geophysical
Year -- the Russian and American launches of orbital satellites -- signalled a po-
tential rebirth of the American frontier myth in outer space. If Earth no longer
offered frontiers to inspire and strengthen Americans, space might provide those
frontiers. America could once again send people into unknown territory -- first as
pioneers, like Lewis and Clark, and later as settlers, ready to establish new homes
and exploit new resources. The characteristic American saga of exploration,
expansion, and renewal could resume, this time in a new and virtually limitless
arena. Of course, Kennedy was only articulating an idea that had long been evident
in American science fiction, from the space operas of the 1930s to the films of the
1950s, as documented in David Mogen Wilderness Visions: The Western Theme
in Science Fiction Literature and elsewhere; but when the president made it the
basis of an actual space program, this vision of space as the new frontier became
a dominant metaphor of the era. Captain Kirk opened each episode of Star Trek
with the words "Space -- the final frontier," as did his successor Captain Picard, and
science fiction writers advocating further space initiatives began referring to outer
space as "the High Frontier." |