In 1978, DAW published a science-fiction trilogy by CJ Cherryh titled “The Faded Sun,” a tale of an alien race who hired themselves out as mercenaries to other races. Left to themselves, they generally won the battles they fought, and were, in fact, called the most efficient killers in the galaxy. If they had no battles to fight for their employees, they fought with themselves, for no other reason than to make their race, as a whole, stronger. For recreation, they played a game they called “shon’ai.” In this game, they sat in a circle and threw objects in a pattern, clapping out a rhythm as they as the next person caught what was thrown in their direction. The number and type of objects, as well as the complexity of the patterns, varied with the skill of the players; the warriors among them played it with knives. A moment of inattention or carelessness could lead to serious injury or death, and if a person lacked the skill of the others in the game, it would be better for them not to play at all. But it was a game of trust as well as skill, for if a person threw wild it could be as deadly as failing to catch … and the game of shon’ai characterized the heart and soul of their philosophy. They trusted in their skill as far as it went … and they threw … and what happened from there, happened. All aspects of their lives followed this way of thinking, and the game was only an expression of it: they studied, they honed their skills, and they cast their lives forward in the direction they wanted them to go. The rest was fate, and their ability to deal with what came back. Shon’ai.
It seems to me that Cherryh’s tale has something to say to the modern American. We live in a society that rewards those that take chances. It’s not so much a matter of prosperity; you can do well enough in a nine-to-five job, methodically climbing the corporate ladder, or punching the clock. But to our way of thinking, to be happy you have to risk something, you have to dance on the edge, be willing to leap into the unknown. If you count every cost, insist always on safety first, you are considered dull, boring. So people take up extreme sports, they open niche businesses, they quit their day jobs and become singer, actors, poets … whatever. They walk out on bosses that annoy them, and insist they aren’t going to take it anymore. Shon’ai.
But why is that? What exactly is wrong with a dull, unexciting life? If survival was the issue, nothing at all. In fact, it would be preferred. We don’t need excitement to survive. We don’t even really need it to be happy … happiness, for the most part, depends on being satisfied with yourself, and you can get there the slow, dull way. But it’s a lot of work. Taking chances and getting the big payoff … well, that appeals more, because it’s faster, more immediate. So that’s one reason we might like to live on the edge. Who wants to wait until they are 60 to feel like they’ve done something with their life? Why not just do it now? Shon’ai.
But I don’t think it’s the entire reason. The history of American culture, in a vastly simplified view, is that we fled oppression in Europe, founded our colony, and successfully rebelled when the oppression seemed as if it would follow us across the sea. Britain of the colonial days was a place of wide social gaps; the “haves” had it pretty well, and the “have-nots” had next to nothing, and what they did have often was shunted right back to the “haves.” There was also the religious suppression, which American children are taught was the main reason our forefathers came here … but the Pilgrims were likely nearly as oppressive in the religious sense as anyone else. No, the colonists wanted a chance to better themselves without the peerage devouring their efforts and keeping them in place. So they took their chances, and came to America. Shon’ai.
And it’s part of our culture now. An engrained sense that if we let our lives grow fallow, they will be subsumed by those more aggressive than us. It’s the thought that if we are dull, we don’t matter. And the only answer to it is, shon’ai.
Is it the right response to these things? I think it’s neither right nor wrong, it simply exists. There are times when it’s best to sit still, to take no chances. And there are others when it’s best to cast your fate forward, and trust you handle what comes back. Shon’ai.
(For more on CJ Cherryh, see her blog at Wave Without A Shore).