Classical Traditions in Science Fiction ed. by Brett M. Rogers and Benjamin Eldon Stevens (review)

to involve new forms. That is, not just assimilating this theme to new forms, but having the forms themselves change” (134). O’Neill’s response is sharp and challenges the very assumptions on which the continuity/ disruption debate rests. He replies, “Look, if you think that 9/11 is an unprecedented chapter in human experience, then yes, maybe you need an unprecedented form to write about it. . . . Let’s put it another way: Let’s say 9/11 had been foiled . . . would we say that the current form of the novel was perfectly satisfactory?” (134). O’Neill points to the most important role this volume plays in 9/11 studies. It unearths little known 9/11 texts and tests them in new ways against ideas of globalism, transnational cultural connections, and the new imperialism of the United States. These new analyses, read against the backdrop of the special relationship between the United States and the UK, serve to show us a major gap in the field but also teach us to question the initial frames within which we rush to understand any major phenomena. In her concluding remarks Miller asks if we have instead of recovering from the horror of the attacks amplified them (12). In her final analysis we see the actual value of this volume. Miller’s contributors, in her words, refuse “to choose between the theories of trauma or spectacle” or “between the plight of the victim and the problem of figuring and understanding responsibility for violence” (12). In a field flooded with books looking at 9/11 through any number of narrow lenses, this one stands out, because it offers what anyone studying a disaster ten years on needs. Miller states it well, “Critical variety is essential for any great understanding of this catastrophic event” (12).