Reflections on my first WorldCon

This year’s Raven logo alluded both to local Native American legends and the members’ dreams of flight

I spent the past week at the World Science Fiction Convention, AKA WorldCon, this year held in Spokane, Washington near Sasquatch country, so AKA Sasquan. (Next year’s will be in Kansas City, Missouri, and the 2017 WorldCon will be held in Helsinki, Finland.)

I’m not a joiner, so I have not attended many Cons in my life. By not many, I mean, this is my second Con. My first was (I think) a Norwescon back when I was in high school, which was slightly after the crust of the earth had cooled. But I have a couple of friends who have regaled me with tales of their WorldCon adventures over the past few years, so I thought I’d join them this year. I’m glad I did.

What stood out to me most was the sense, not just of common joy, but of common purpose: their presence and activity as science fiction (and fantasy) fans had a sense of being part of a work greater than any single member, greater even than the sum of all their members.

This impression crystallized for me when I heard the musicians Sassafrass sing their song, “Sombody Will“. The verses speak of the mundane work they do to take tiny steps toward a science fiction future, including journeys to other planets and other stars, that they never will see. Then the refrain proclaims:

But I am
willing to sacrifice
something I don’t have
for something I won’t have
but somebody will
someday

Setting aside the logical contradiction (how can you sacrifice something you don’t have?), the poetry of the sentiment reminded me of the tales of European cathedrals, which took generations to build, but which invigorated their communities with the sense of each person contributing to a grand and transcendent work that lifted them beyond their everyday lives, indeed, beyond the confines of their mortality.

And this image, combined with my own background in ancient and medieval philosophy, made me realize that here were people who had grasped the virtues of faith and hope and charity, those attributes of trusting in something greater than oneself, of expecting great promises to be fulfilled, and of laying down one’s life for others.

This WorldCon was apparently wracked by controversy, primarily around the nominations for the Hugo Awards. Perhaps that controversy strengthened the sense of community at the Con, or perhaps it simply helped me become aware of what was already present.

I’ve never considered myself a “fan” or part of “fandom”. I doubt I ever will. I think I’ve lost my capacity for unbridled enthusiasm. But for the first time, I’ve seen what draws people to these conventions. There’s something good and admirable there.