Maggie
MacDonald is an award-winning playwright, visual artist and musician
with the critically acclaimed bands The Hidden Cameras and The Republic
of Safety. MacDonald is also an accomplished playwright. Growing up in
Cornwall, Ontario, she was dubbed the "punk rock
valedictorian." At the tender age of 20, MacDonald was a candidate
for the New Democratic Party in the 1999 federal election.
Ibi Kaslik talked to Maggie MacDonald about the pill,
nuclear war and MacDonald’s debut novel, Kill
the Robot (McGilligan Books, 2005).
(March 2006)
*
IK: In Kill the Robot, the emphasis on the Cold
War is compelling. As children of the 70s and 80s, many of us were
raised within an environment of remote and abstract threat. Do you see
our generation coming out of the Cold war unscathed or, as in Kill
The Robot, nihilistic to the core?
MM:
I do not think of our generation as nihilistic. We lack hope, and we do
not have the same faith in technology that our parents did. The
Chernobyl Meltdown and the Challenger Space Shuttle disaster are two of
my most vivid childhood memories.
As a result I don't think of the future as a Fritz
Lang type Metropolis with flying cars and a sky plugged with towers of
glass and steel. Big technology is ailing. But there is a beautiful
Belle and Sebastian song that says, 'Do Something pretty while you can,
don't fall asleep' and that's how I think of my generation. We are
compelled to make hopeful gestures towards the future, even if our
optimism is thinning.
In Toronto today, everyone has a band, everyone is
making some kind of art; young people are making castles out of
matchsticks, and when the wind blows them down, we build them up again.
IK: As a Playwright, did you find the transition from
Playwrighting to fiction writing difficult?
MM: I have always enjoyed
writing both plays and fiction. When I try to remember which came first
it's unclear. In my childhood I spent a lot of time writing picture
stories for my parents, and little plays and skits for my friends at
school. The Rat King is both a script for a stage musical and a
soon-to-be-completed graphic novel. I worked on the project as a picture
story for a couple of years before turning some of the dialogue into a
script for the stage because I felt staging it would bring it to an
audience sooner than publishing it as a book would.
Publishing is a slow, mysterious process, while
performing a piece is something that is much easier to do when you live
in a collaboration-happy city like Toronto.
IK: Who are your favourite Sci-Fi writers and why?
MM: I am most influenced by
non-fiction writers like Michel Foucault, Donna Haraway, Slavoj Zizek
and Katherine Hayles. As for science fiction, Philip K. Dick is my
favourite. His imaginary worlds are often close to our own, which touch
on the paranoia and despair that are familiar to many people. Rather
than amusing us with portraits of foreign planets, Dick's work causes
the reader to doubt her own perceptions, rather than merely doubting
outer 'societal' norms. It's not that I don't see the value of
interplanetary fiction, I simply prefer the psychological and political
material in Dick's work.
The greatest example of Dick’s combination of
politics and paranoia are the intertwined novels Valis and Radio
Free Albemuth. In Valis,
Dick tells a story based on his own life, and predicts his own death (he
died of a stroke in 1982). While most of the main character’s friends’
think he is crazy after a pink laser hits him in his bedroom, one friend
steps forward to describe an obscure film about a similar laser.
Together the friends see the film, and his sanity is no longer
questioned.
Radio Free Albemuth –-
which was published posthumously –- is the story of the film Dick and
his friend watch in Valis. In RFA the evil American
president, Ferris Freemount, is challenged by folk musicians who plant
subliminal messages in their albums. In Valis, Freemount is a
thinly veiled Richard Nixon. The interplay between the books is
beautiful, especially because it is unclear whether Dick intended RFA
to be published.
IK: In Kill the Robot there is a very explicit
connection between sex and/or sexual orientation and being controlled by
a male-dominated consumer force. Can you comment on the ways in which
you see women robotized in our culture?
MM: Being robotized is a
metaphor for alienation from the body. I disagree with the 'mind over
matter' attitude we live with in this culture. For instance, let's
consider the recent fascination with the idea that periods can be
suppressed with special birth control pills. (There is a discussion of
this matter at noperiod.com.)
Having a period can be painful and inconvenient, but a
lot of natural processes are. Birth, illness, exercise, bowel movements,
sex, work, all of these things can be inconvenient, and sometimes
involve a little suffering. But they are what life itself consists of.
More common than chemical suppression is anorexia which is an old
fashioned and still prevalent cause of amenorrhea (no period), a disease
often linked to mind-body alienation and the sense that the physical
body can and must be controlled via restriction. The goal of Kill the
Robot is to make the mind-over-matter attitude seem like a disease.
IK: There are echoes of Logan's Run, 1984 and
even Bradbury in your book. Can you comment on the reasons why you think
dystopic art is so important in our society, especially now?
MM: Technologies that assist
tyranny are spreading, but they are useless without complicit human
participants who are willing to work the buttons and sift through the
data. As the twentieth century closed with America as the dominant
global superpower, the American ideology of money-over-matter began to
look natural. The role of dystopian fiction is to denaturalize the
dominant ideology.
Ibi Kaslik is the
author of Skinny (Harper Collins Canada, May 2004). Read her TDR
interview.