The summer sun, in its lazy, hazy way, brought with it a revelation for me. It began with an aunt, her voice a comforting echo of stories past, unveiling a treasure from a forgotten storage unit: a slender paperback, its blue cover gilded with age and promise, its spine creased from countless readings, by the visionary, Octavia E. Butler. As I held it, a sense of wonder sparked. Here was a portal not just into the genre of science fiction, but into a narrative that redefined my understanding of possibility. This wasn’t merely a story, it was an experience.
For a young reader like myself, immersed in the familiar landscapes of Young Adult fiction, tales often populated by fair-skinned elves and beings made of moonlight. My literary diet was limited. Black literature, to my understanding, was often intertwined with narratives of racial trauma and historical suffering. This reality made me hesitant to explore the wealth of fiction produced by Black authors. I longed for stories that were expansive, that transported me to new worlds, but I didn’t see where I might find them.
This slim volume by Butler was a revelation. Here was science fiction, a genre I’d previously associated with escapism, yet featuring a protagonist who was unequivocally Black, thriving and complex in their existence, engaging with the story in a manner completely unrelated to any struggle against oppression. The story, I discovered, created a world in which a character’s race didn’t dictate limitations.
While the emergence of Afrofuturism, a movement that reimagines the future through the lens of the African diaspora, has captured the imagination of a new generation of creatives, seeking a future that uplifts and celebrates its people, it is important to acknowledge that the role of Black writers, particularly Black women, in the science fiction landscape is older than the term “Afrofuturism” itself. This designation was birthed in 1994, when Mark Dery’s essay, “Black to the Future,” provided a definition for the movement, yet Black women had long been forging their own paths through the stars.
The phenomenal rise of “Black Panther,” a film that introduced the concepts within Afrofuturism to the mainstream, shouldn’t overshadow the groundbreaking work accomplished by earlier generations of Black women who have helped build the foundation for what is seen today. Their contributions, their vision, allowed for the development of the genre.
One such luminary is Octavia E. Butler. By 1976, she was already the most prolific Black woman novelist in North America. Butler began writing science fiction after watching the 1957 film “Devil Girl from Mars”, a movie that motivated her to contribute more to the genre than the film she watched. The impact that she made is undeniable, and her work is still spoken of fondly today.
Her novel, “Mind of My Mind,” published in 1977, is a prime example of her innovative storytelling. The novel introduces us to Mary, a 21-year-old woman caught in a battle with the millennia-old Doro, a commanding figure who possesses the terrifying ability to steal and inhabit the bodies of others. Doro’s power extends over a network of telepaths, individuals who have no choice but to obey his will or meet their demise. Mary is one of these telepaths, destined from birth to serve Doro’s plans. As her telepathic abilities mature, she’s expected to marry and bear children, hoping to continue the cycle of telepathic dominance. The complex nature of choice and autonomy is discussed throughout the novel.
Butler’s short story, “Bloodchild,” published in 1984, remains a powerful and poignant work of science fiction. The setting is one of an alien race on the precipice of extinction, negotiating a human community’s assistance in their survival. Humans are sold to the aliens to be used as hosts, eventually providing sustenance to them. The graphic nature of the body horror is striking. Butler herself, in an interview, pushed back against readings that saw the story as a direct allegory for slavery. Instead, she described “Bloodchild” as a reflection on the complexities of power dynamics, where the usual narrative of either violent conquest or abject servitude of humans to aliens would be changed.
Tananarive Due, another vital voice in the genre, experienced feelings of isolation within the literary landscape. Noting the lack of voices like hers within the world of science fiction, Due courageously went on to write her own, “My Soul to Keep”. She herself has said that she found it difficult to find out if there was a market for her thoughts around the experiences of Black people’s lives in suburban settings. Yet, she persevered, driven by faith in her vision. Now, she is regarded as a master of thrilling and unique horror and suspense.
“My Soul to Keep” draws a fantastical landscape, starting with Jessica, who meets the perfect partner in David, who obtained immortality after a ritualistic decision 400 years ago. Their life together, including their daughter Kira, is quickly thrown into chaos as David begins to experience the growing calls of the Ethiopian coven that he originated from, a group demanding his return, which would require leaving his present life with Jessica and his daughter. This forces Jessica to do what it takes to protect herself and maintain a future with the man she loves.
4.6 out of 5 stars 
