Diary of a Mad Editor

Those that really know me, know that I’m a big science fiction geek. Those that really, really know me, know that, aside from Doctor Who, my all-time favorite SF TV show is the late, lamented Farscape. Yes, I love the adventures of John Crichton and the crew of the Leviathan ship, Moya. One of the things I liked about the show was that the aliens were truly alien. Colorful, exotic and grotesque in a way that other aliens in most televised and motion picture media are not. Over the Summer, thanks to Netflix, I’ve been reacquainting myself with the show.

What is it about the grotesque that attracts us? Even if something is sickeningly repulsive, why are we not always repelled by it? Just the other day at the gym, playing on the television, there was this talk show on Telemundo displaying images of the most grotesquely obese women I’d ever seen . . . wearing bikinis! Honestly, it turned my stomach. No, I’m not talking about tall chubby-but-cute plus size lingerie models. I’m talking about massive folds of fat that make Jabba the Hut look like Adrianna Lima by comparison. As disgusted as I was, I didn’t stop pedaling on the stationary bike and I didn’t take my eyes off the TV.

But, back to Farscape. The show worked, not just on an emotional level. It worked because the writers were willing to go beyond the willy-nilly kiddie cuteness of most mainstream science fiction TV shows. This show isn’t Star Trek or Star Wars.  The writers of Farscape took the viewer as far as the imagination could travel and gave us villains that were as grotesque as they were truly menacing.  Think about the show’s main baddie, Scorpius. Full of internal demons and a face so revolting even a mother couldn’t love him, yet exuding a keen intellect and calm, cool charming demeanor even as he tormented his victims. There’s a lesson there for writers.  Not just in creating believable characters, but in using the grotesque to create suspense and conflict while drawing the reader into the story.