My parents weren’t particularly religious until it was time to place judgment on others. But that didn’t stop my aunt from trying to convince me otherwise. I remember one of the few times she took me to her church. We woke up before sunrise to make a trek from Brooklyn to the Bronx to an old Baptist church that felt like it was carved into the side of a mountain. Yes, my favorite person in the world was a devout woman who attended church every Sunday, sang in the choir, cooked breakfast and lunch for the congregation, and assisted with church administration. And even she couldn’t change my mind. But I always enjoyed going with her. Not for the religious experience, obviously. But to see how others interacted with religion. How do you get a God to pay attention to you and your troubles? Is it the music? Is that why the band is so loud? Is it the speech pattern that’s recognizable in every Black pastor’s sermons? Is it the running and yelling around the tiny worship room? Is it the long hours of prayer and sermon and turning to your neighbor, proving dedication? I have always been fascinated with the social rituals and contradictions of religion. Something that is supposedly the instructions on how to live your life and help others, devolving into tools of subjugation and harm. So naturally, as someone who reads to understand humanity, I gravitate to god and mortal interactions in literature.
And so is the reason for this blog post. I was discussing a project with a friend, and one of the ideas I floated was a conversation about gods (I deeply apologize for the vagueness, but I am bound by an NDA. Details will be revealed later, though!). Across all religions, Gods have been interpreted as absolutes of humanity’s worst and best traits or as omniscient deities with a lackluster disdain for humanity. Is there a genre about us mortals trying to make sense of our world and our universe with one of the most abstract concepts? How cool would that be?!? I found the concept of the name so fascinating that, during this conversation, I finally looked it up. Very few thoughts are actually original, and someone must have thought of this before me. I searched for ‘Gods in literature,’ and Godpunk was one of the first results to appear on a book list in the Washington County Library Services. A light bulb went off. Fireworks danced across my vision (I was probably hungry), and I felt inspired. IT HAS A NAME!!!!!!! According to SFcrowsnest, Godpunk is a genre created by the white British author James Lovegrove, which examines the interactions between gods and modern humans in military science fiction. This definition has been expanded upon by many in the Reddit communities, the literary magazine Strange Horizons, and eventually Book Riot to become more inclusive of all speculative fiction with god and mortal interactions. I’ll attempt to give my interpretation of the godpunk genre here because, well, it’s my blog!! LET ME PONTIFICATE!!
I already spoke about GODS, so let’s examine the word PUNK. Punk literary subgenres in speculative fiction intentionally subvert typical narratives and cultural and social ideologies. They are rooted in anti-establishment. In many ways, they rebel against our current reality. The easiest way for me to understand this is to think of punk music and its history, as well as its lyrics, which tell the story of marginalized people. At the very core of punk, you find rebellion, so that was a significant misstep on Lovegrove’s part when he tied the definition to the military. It reeks of white privilege, but I digress. By combining these two concepts, Godpunk examines religion and the idea of God, aiming to understand and engage with it in subversive and supernatural ways that are not seen in our current reality. I think that’s why I love it most because it’s yet another way to rebel against our current culture. In current times, where we are dealing with a political coup propelled by the desire to create a racist Christian theocracy in America, Godpunk is needed now more than ever—especially godpunk stories written by QTBIPOC communities. We need to see more stories of Black folks interacting with the Orisha or contending with our forced historical relationships to Christianity and slavery. We need more authors of color to introduce their pantheon of gods to the masses to normalize cultural and narrative differences and the impacts of colonialization. We need to see gods interact with disabled and queer folks and have gods contend with the systemic harm being done on their behalf by mortals. We need to read about marginalized people being imbued with a god’s power as messages of hope, revenge, punishment, and growth.
I am also interested in how taboo is used within the godpunk genre. A couple of months ago, I did a blog post about taboos within speculative fiction. I find it fascinating to see how taboo topics impact speculative fiction stories, especially when written by Black and Brown authors. Exploring its use within the godpunk genre would be an excellent research topic. The first book that comes to mind is The Inheritance Trilogy by N.K. Jemisin. In that story, we have a Pantheon of gods who reject human morals and values, often having incestuous relationships with one another. How do writers use Gods to convey or understand taboo? How do we use gods to disarm the reader, get readers to think critically, and determine their moral lines without social norms holding them hostage?
And finally, just on a more aesthetic level. I love the name Godpunk. Much like steampunk and cyberpunk, it just sounds edgy and provocative. (that’s probably why Lovegrove used the word steampunk, but let’s face it, edge without context is still vapid). As a black kid from New York City who grew up loving emo, punk, and metal rock, the name godpunk couldn’t be any better. It makes me want to learn more about the elements of other punk literary genres.
Now that I have a name for one of my favorite genres ever, I want to do more research on this. Here are some books that are considered God Punk. I hope you enjoy them. I hope they make you question things. I hope they help you to reimagine our world.
Happy reading, and until next time!!
Note: To clarify my comment on church music being loud, I get very overstimulated with loud sounds indoors to the point of hysterical crying and not being able to mask my stimming. It is a very sore spot in my upbringing and something I struggle with at my current grown age—one of the many joys of neurodivergence.
Note: I’m also interested in the reaction of folks who were raised in a religious household. As I don’t have a relationship with organized religion, I grew up questioning all of it. I would love to see how someone with deeply ingrained religious beliefs interacts with the godpunk subgenre.
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