Given all this, it is not surprising that the seemingly oxymoronic phrase ‘‘science fiction’’ is of recent and disreputable coinage, routinely seeming offensive to scientists and literary men alike, nor that, while science evolved so rapidly and so wondrously in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the reflections of that triumphant progress in the literary world were fragmentary, elliptical, and grudging. Nor is it any wonder that even in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries—while science went from strength to strength in establishing its empire of belief—the vast majority of litterateurs remained conspicuously diffident or dissident, mostly refusing to have any truck with it except to hurl occasional abuse. The surprising thing is not that ‘‘science fiction’’ was born despicable in an age of scientific glory, but that it was ever born at all. When the term ‘‘science fiction’’ was reinvented in the 1920s to describe a new genre of popular fiction—whose commodification was eventually successful, though gradual and far from unproblematic—its inventors and adherents had little difficulty in constructing a literary tradition going back fifty years, and a little more, but they had to recognise that the body of work in question was a mere trickle compared to the vast surge of the literary ‘‘mainstream’’: a tradition that had been and remained stubbornly indifferent to, if not proudly ignorant of, the progress of science. Nor did the advent of science fiction signal or hold out any hope for a modification of policy; indeed, science fiction emerged as a labeled genre at exactly the moment in history at which the last vestiges of intellectual communion between scientific and literary men were in the process of being severed, resulting in the emergence, in C. P. Snow’s famous formulation, of ‘‘the two cultures.’’
The evolution of generic science fiction since the label was coined—as tracked in such volumes as the Encyclopedia of Science Fiction compiled by John Clute and Peter Nicholls in 1992—has not involved any conspicuous sophistication of the relationship between its two ostensible components. Indeed, the label was so promiscuously applied that it became necessary within a few decades of its coinage to invent a special term (‘‘hard’’ science fiction)—to describe the small fraction of texts published under the label that attempted to maintain a manifest respect for the scientific method and its produce. Within a few decades more, even that term had been cheapened to the point at which it was routinely used to refer to any texts sheltering under the label’s umbrella that contained any reference whatsoever to science, the vast majority having none at all.
