I don’t often get to indulge my appreciation of Sinology, i.e., the study of Chinese history and culture, but Netflix’s new science fiction series “3 Body Problem” has piqued the curiosity of many people unaware of the country’s expansive Sci-Fi connections. The big-budget show is a book-to-screen adaptation of Liu Cixin’s 2014 book of the same name (San Ti  三体). As a result, it has introduced many new international audiences to Chinese science fiction.

Historical roots of Chinese science fiction

The seeds of “science fiction” were nurtured in ancient Chinese fantasy, mythology, and supernatural novels. However, the genre has a history in that country that goes back more than a century, according to journalist and science fiction writer Han Song. Han states that Chinese science fiction traces its roots back to over a century ago when Liang Qichao (1873-1929) published “The Future of New China” (Xin Zhongguo Weilai Ji 新中國未來記) in 1902 during the Qing Dynasty. In this novel, Liang, a prominent politician and ideologist of his time, envisioned China as a world power by 1962. He also translated Jules Verne’s “Deux ans de vacances” (Two Years’ Vacation, 1888) into Chinese. 

Another significant figure, Lu Xun (1881-1936), who is considered the greatest literary master of modern China, was instrumental in introducing Verne’s works, including the notable “De la terre à la lune” (From the Earth to the Moon, 1865), to Chinese audiences. Both Liang and Lu believed that science fiction could promote the dissemination of modern knowledge, liberate minds, and foster positive developments in a civilisation that was lagging behind the industrialised Western world. China Writer also suggests that the earliest science fiction novel introduced to China was “Seventy Years of Sleep” (Yishui Qishi Nian 一睡七十年) published in the “Shenbao” newspaper in 1872. It was originally written by Washington Irving and first published in the United States on April 22, 1872, later appearing in Japan’s “Declaration” newspaper on May 28, 1872.

Read: Hugo Awards controversy: R. F. Kuang’s Babel excluded

According to ScienceNet (Kexue Wang 科学网), the earliest known original work of science fiction in Chinese is thought to be the unfinished novel “Lunar Colony” (Yuèqiú zhímíndì xiǎoshuō 月球殖民地小說), published in 1904 by an anonymous author using the pen name Old Fisherman of the Secluded River (Huāngjiāng diào sǒu 荒江釣叟). The story follows Long Menghua, who escapes from China with his wife after he kills a government official harassing her family. Their escape ship is accidentally sunk, and Long’s wife goes missing. However, Long is rescued by Otoro Tama, a Japanese inventor of a dirigible, who assists him in travelling to Southeast Asia in search of his wife. Together, they join with a group of anti-Qing martial artists to rescue her from bandits. Disillusioned by the corruption they perceive in the world’s nations, they decide to travel to the Moon and establish a new colony.

In the journal article “Translation and the Development of Science Fiction in Twentieth-Century China,” Qian Jiang, a lecturer at the College of Foreign Languages and Literature at Fudan University explains how the “modern” concept of SF was adopted in the country. She writes: “The means of conveyance imagined in traditional Chinese fantasy literature are typically magical monsters such dragons and kylins, flying carpets, or clouds. After the influx of foreign sf, however, “modern vehicles” such as submarines, airships, and balloons began to appear in novels by Chinese writers.” After Jules Verne’s “Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea” and “The Flying Ship in the Air” were published, “submarines and airships became positively commonplace.”

Read: Rebecca Kuang on fantasy: from Babel, Yellowface to hell

In Nathaniel Isaacson’s book “Celestial Empire: The Emergence of Chinese Science Fiction,” the North Carolina State University Modern Chinese Literature associate professor roots early examples of Chinese science fiction in the context of China’s semi-colonial subjugation, or what he terms “colonial modernity”. He argues, “In the context of the colonial threat, a profound pessimism emerged about China’s fate as a nation, and this pessimism permeates discourses on science and works of SF from this period.”

Isaacson also believes that “science fiction was arguably a concrete publishing category in China before it was in the West, even as it predominantly featured translations of Western works”. The pairing of the two terms, borrowed from Japanese, was introduced very early in the twentieth century. The term is said to have begun “to appear regularly as a literary genre category associated with specific stories in publications in China (c. 1904) before it did in the English-language press”.

As Isaacson also suggests, in Chinese science fiction “the other that must be silenced is as often China’s own indigenous tradition as it is an alien invader” and, in a general sense, “the alien other that Chinese SF confronts is China itself”.

The rise of the science fiction genre through translation marked a significant aspect of the broader debate over Chinese national identity during the late Qing and Republican eras. This debate centred on the role of traditional Chinese thought in modernising China. Building on Andrew Milner’s perspective that imperialism was a central element in early science fiction writing, Isaacson contends that ” Orientalism and imperialism were indeed the most conspicuous themes” in the genre during this period.

Cultural Revolutions and science fiction

During a brief period in the early twentieth century, science fiction writing by native authors gained popularity. The genre instilled pride among readers with stories of China using futuristic high-tech weaponry to defeat Western nations. After years of repeated wars and revolutions, Mao Zedong founded the People’s Republic of China in 1949 intending to modernise the country, which was “perceived as an underdeveloped 5,000-year-old agriculture-based civilization,” states Han. 

Wenguang Zheng gained prominence by publishing socialist China’s first science fiction short story in 1954, titled “From Earth to Mars” [Cong Diqiu Dao Huoxing 從地球到火星]. This story, which chronicled the first Communist-led expedition to the mysterious red planet, established his fame.

Why was sci-fi banned in China?

That’s not to say there wasn’t any backlash to the writings. During the tumultuous Cultural Revolution (1966-76), which included the Anti-Spiritual Pollution Campaign aimed at consolidating proletarian leadership, Zheng and other science fiction writers were silenced because the genre was seen as a corrupting influence from Western culture.

However, following reforms and increased openness in the late 1970s, which led to a renewed respect for intellectuals and scientists, science fiction writers resumed their work. Unfortunately, this resurgence was short-lived. In 1983, Party newspapers criticised the genre for “spreading pseudoscience and promoting decadent capitalist elements.”

Modern resurgence and global recognition

Han notes that Chinese science fiction experienced a major revival in the 1990s when the Communist Party began allowing greater creative freedom. During this period, Chinese bookshelves started to feature translations of works by Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, and other American authors, while movies like E.T. and The Matrix made their way to theatres. By the late ’90s, the Chinese magazine “Science Fiction World” boasted a circulation of over 400,000, making it the largest publication of its kind globally. 

Wu Yan, a science fiction writer and professor at Beijing Normal University, also established the country’s first science fiction degree-granting programme, which helped spread interest in the genre nationwide and facilitated connections between the Chinese science fiction community and its international counterparts.

The ‘Three-Body Problem’ problem

Over the past decade, Chinese science fiction has gained international success. Engineer Liu Cixin’s “The Three-Body Problem” has sold over a million copies in China and more than a hundred thousand in its English-language version. It also won the prestigious 2015 Hugo Award for science fiction and fantasy in the US, helping to elevate Chinese science fiction to a global status. He is considered one of the most famous authors of science fiction in China now.

Ironically, Netflix is banned in China, yet his own book managed to pass censors despite it containing a graphic depiction of the struggle session during the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Liu Cixin is far from being an activist however, agreeing with the government’s anti-Indigenous policies in Xinjiang and one-child policy. Chinese viewers have also criticised the series, with some calling it “nonsense” and “out of touch” on the country’s social media platform Weibo. However, a New York Times column blamed the reaction to the series on its “censorship and indoctrination”.

Read: China unveils AI large language model for ancient books

What’s interesting is China’s approach to artificial intelligence. Liu Cixin recently revealed that he used ChatGPT to help compose his recent public speech, which reinforced his belief in the potential of AI chatbots to replace certain human activities. While China advances technologically, it still grapples with its past. Its science fiction seems to face a similar dichotomy.

Contemporary Chinese science fiction and its cultural implications

Chinese science fiction recently made waves after R.F. Kuang’s “Babel” was excluded from the 2023 Hugo Award nominations, despite its critical acclaim and Nebula Award win. Nomination data from the 2023 event, held by Chengdu Worldcon in China, revealed that certain authors and books, despite receiving enough votes, were deemed “not eligible” for inclusion. Kuang expressed her disappointment, suggesting that the exclusion might be due to the book being “undesirable” rather than ineligible, calling into question the legitimacy of the entire process.

I happened to attend ‘Bei Shi Da’ (Beijing Normal University 北京师范大学) in 2010, when I was studying abroad for my Mandarin and Politics degree. Part of my studies also included traipsing through ancient classical Chinese texts. And if you don’t believe me, here is my translation of the “Ballad of Mulan.” This meant reading lots of fantastical worlds set in an entirely different time period.

A common symbol that appears in many of the classical texts is the famous dragon. Roel Sterckx, professor of Chinese history, science and civilisation at the University of Cambridge, told the BBC: “The main point is that the Chinese dragon is a hybrid incorporating features and locomotion of all animals in one.” In essence, the dragon represents not a singular entity, but rather the very essence of change. And what is science fiction if not the literature of change? Perhaps Chinese science fiction actually dates back even further than we think – if we stop measuring it by Western standards. Either way, Netflix’s “3 Body Problem” has now become part of the nation’s SF culture in some shape or form.