Astronautic Subjects: Postmodern Identity and the Embodiment of Space in American Science Fiction — Page 3:
The Cyborg as Superman
11 This rhetoric is not only charged with images of progress, technology, and emancipation, it is also highly gendered. In his introduction to Halacy's Cyborg - The Evolution of the Superman, Clynes makes the following observation:
A new word was created in 1960 to describe a new concept for man's venture into space: Become a superman; live in space as at home - if possible, better than home! Do not take into space earth's hindrances and encumbrances. Be a free spirit in space, weightless and not weighted down by the limitations of terrestrial ancestry. (7)
The deployment of Nietzschean imagery in Clyne's statement (and, above all, in Halacy's book) is symptomatic of a phallogocentric approach. Masculinity here functions not only as an indicator of technology and progress, but also as an agent of democracy itself. Given the background of the Cold War, the astronautic superman in 1960s cultural iconography had to be male and masculine, fighting for the tenets of Western civilization. His voyage into distant spheres is marked as evidence of his energy and will-power. Donna Haraway contends that such images echo the old myth of man as tool-maker, according to which "man makes everything, including himself out of the world that can only be resource and potency to his project and active agency" ("Promises" 297).
12 However, the spacewalker in Clynes's article is not only coded as a gendered creature, but also as an independent thinker, a "free spirit in space" (ibid). By leaving the terrestrial sphere and delving into a previously undiscovered terrain, the astronaut literally overcomes the constraints and limitations symptomatic of life on earth. As an exposed figure of cultural imagination, the spacewalker is capable of detaching him-/herself from existing formula and constructions, including codes of gender identity. Astronautic imagery suggests that the limitations of terrestrial ancestry can be deconstructed through the metaphor of spacewalking, the meandering and trespassing between two worlds.
The Gender of Astronauts
13 The astronaut floating through space appears almost sexless and genderless. His/her spacesuit protects him/her not only from harmful influences in outer space, but also from a penetrating and inscribing gaze. We do not see what is inside of the astronaut's shell-like exterior. Behind the technological masquerade, we may find either sex, either gender. In the face of this elusiveness it seems only logical that science-fiction imagery has continuously attempted to fill the void behind the spacesuit, to endow the astronaut with a specific gender identity. The American toy industry offers a good example of this ideological reconstruction of the space explorer. In the early years the space robot is still machine-like, clumsy, and often sexually ambiguous. "Robert Robot," for example, is a rolling automaton with a huge lower body and a triangle-shaped groin. This type of toy is endowed with rather "feminine" attributes, offering the viewer an image of the robot as a mere instrument manufactured to satisfy his master's wishes. The "Modern Robot" has a similar physical appearance, only that its head is equipped with two metal appliqués reminiscent of earrings. As symbols, the metal appliqués fulfill two contradictory functions: On the one hand, they gender the space robot female, thus underlining its subservience and passivity. On the other hand, they contribute to the image of the robot as a "pirate," possibly revolting against the race of humans.[3]In the 1940s and 50s, science-fiction literature strongly emphasized this dualism within the robot's nature: Originally created as a useful machine, the robot in these texts was bound to develop a consciousness. Due to a more refined technology, robots of the later generation were about to become more self-aware and finally resist their initial objectification. This popular vision of a subjectified robot identity can be found, for instance, in Isaac Asimov's texts, collected in an early anthology with the apt title <em>I, Robot</em> (1950). In addition, this robot has two round buttons or knobs in the area of its upper chest, vague reminders of the human physique. Another device is the "Nonstop Robot" that comes all in pink. This toy shows us its interior "organs" that seem to consist solely of screws and small wheels.
Figure 5, Figure 6, Figure 7: Androgynous creatures. Robert Robot, Modern Robot, Nonstop Robot (1950s).
14 The 1960s constitute the stage for a new type of space robot - the patriotic Moon Scout, which not only carries the American flag on its uniform, but also exudes an aura of masculine vigor and vitality. The toy clearly signals a paradigm shift in postwar ideology from the initial objectification of space technology to a masculinization of space itself. Absorbing the traditional signifiers of male gender identity, the Moon Scout illustrates the increasing conflation of national and gender issues in space discourse. A variation of this toy is the "wind-up walking astronout [sic]" from the 1970s which comes together with a razer (an instrument to extinguish potential enemies). Although positioned on wheels and equipped with a mechanism for winding it up (indicators of the astronaut's initial servility as a servant of his country), this toy is clearly designed to exemplify the new qualities of the astronaut as a he-man, suggesting charisma, vigor, and energy. Another significant aspect is the emergence of masculine facial features. Notably, this new variant of the space explorer openly displays his fists, as if to confront us with his extraordinary strength. In addition, he is endowed with a conspicuous bulge in his "pants," which both emphasizes his maleness and - one might add - his "Americanness." This is the birth of the astronaut as a patriotic individualist and conqueror of new worlds. Yet, it is also through these overt inscriptions that the constructed character of the astronaut becomes obvious. It seems as if these markers of male vigor are necessary to endow the figure with an identity that would otherwise not be recognizable.
Figure 8, Figure 9: The Moon Scout (1960s) and the wind-up Walking Astronout [sic!] with Razer (1970s) – epitomes of vigorous masculinitity.
15 In this era, the body of the astronaut is increasingly used as a projection screen for anxieties concerning the stability of gender categories. This is especially obvious in the genre of bionic fiction that was specifically popular in the US in the mid 1970s. In the TV-series Six Million Dollar Man (1976), we encounter the crash victim Steve Austin (played by Lee Majors) who is rebuilt by space researchers in a laboratory as a cybernetic organism. The goal of the researchers, we are told, is to make him fit to go into space. The show's concept was based on a peculiar conflation of the identities of the show's producers and the scientists who build the Bionic Man. At the beginning of the first episode, a narrator informs the viewers, "Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology." The astronaut's masculinity is presented here not as a natural asset, but as the result of extensive technological studies which fashion male subjectivity according to the ideals of efficiency and functionality: "We have the capability to make the world's first Bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before. Better … stronger … faster."[4]These lines are from the show's trailer aired in television spots during the year 1976. See vodpod.com/watch/3450218-better-stronger-faster-the-six-million-dollar-man.






