Regardless of whether or not Charles Yu’s novel How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe ought to be classified as science fiction, the character Charles’ narrative is developed around the common element of any successful story, notwithstanding genre: character development. At the novel’s start, Charles is portrayed as lacking maturity, empathy, and a sense of self. Afraid to face these realities of his character, Charles opts to exist alone in the present indefinite. Here, he takes refuge from the present moment and the passage of time, where the stagnancy of his shortcomings would publicly define him. Despite his own aversion to living in the present, Charles’ father’s fixation on the future –– notably, his hopes of creating a functional time machine to fully escape the present –– is the characteristic that he most criticizes in his father. While evidently unwilling to better his own character, Charles immaturely and hypocritically faults his dad for the qualities he himself inherited. Yet, by following the turbulence and shifts in their relationship, readers discern that Charles gradually develops unconditional positive regard for his dad, marking his own maturity and growth as an individual. Ultimately, Charles comes to an understanding that the only person he can control is himself. While later points in his narration seem to contradict this development, Charles is motivated to take control of his life by the end of the novel; choosing to embrace his father despite his faults demonstrates great maturity, a maturity that enables him to grow as a person by doing what his father never did: fully exist in the present moment.
At the outset of his story, Charles’ own narration betrays him as a man without direction or a sense of self, who fears the reality of his life; as such, the qualities of his language and his evident infatuation with alternative timelines to the one he evades reveal his intense fear of reentering the present. Early in the novel, Charles’ fixation on the inadequacies he perceives in his father and himself is made clear; while he would have his father conform to the image he holds of an ideal father, Charles neither strives for nor values any positive change in himself. In line with this hypocrisy, while Charles outwardly grapples with the question of what deep-rooted unhappiness drove his father’s dedication to altering time and space, he tiptoes around his own feelings of deep dissatisfaction with his life (Yu 54). Evidenced by his desire to “pry open really tiny temporary quantum windows into other universes” to spy on alternate versions of himself, “so long as any distortions [he] creates in the fabric of space-time are completely reversible,” Charles, like his father, is driven to evade the present moment (Yu 10). The evocative imagery of Charles forcing his way into alternate universes through very small openings, while trying not to “distort” space-time, suggests that to do so is unnatural and reckless; to risk slipping into 39 alternate universes, as he does, implies that Charles cannot find his place within his own universe. This exemplifies his desperation to avoid reentering the present. Moreover, of the 39 variations of himself that Charles reportedly observes, he perceives 35 of them as “total jerks,” and concludes that “If 89.7 percent of the other versions of you are assholes, chances are you aren’t exactly Mr. Personality yourself” (Yu 10). This conclusion, coupled with Charles’ strong negative language, asserts that he has poor self-perception; this perception is entirely based on these alternate versions of himself. Given that the novel’s protagonist so strongly associates himself with alternate versions of himself, he opts to vicariously live through their time frames, rather than facing his fear of living his own life in the present.
Intertwined with Charles’ fear of the present is his dismissal of his shortcomings. Improving upon these shortcomings would give Charles the direction and sense of self he lacks, thus alleviating his fear of reentering his life; instead, Charles’ passive language indicates that he has no interest in either shifting his reality to the present or in bettering himself as a person. This quality renders him a hypocritical replica of how he perceives his father as a parent. Deepening readers’ understanding of his self-perception, Charles closes Chapter One saying: “Sometimes when I’m brushing my teeth, I look in the mirror and I swear my reflection seems kind of disappointed. I realized a couple of years ago that not only am I not super-skilled at anything, I’m not even particularly good at being myself” (Yu 10). By preceding profound self-reflection with imagery of himself brushing his teeth, Charles utilizes humor to distract from the gravity of his self-realization. In conjunction, his passive tone and language in saying he is “kind of” disappointed and not “super” talented suggests that Charles minimizes these shortcomings and chooses not to address them fully. This passiveness regarding his character sets a precedent for his continual evasion of time and the present moment. Looking back on his childhood, Charles outwardly reproaches his father for never molding into the ideal, present parent he envisioned, yet, adult Charles gives the immediate impression of a hypocrite, given that he neither exists in the present nor strives to better himself (Yu 161). Given this analysis, it can be concluded that early in the novel, Charles is no better of a man that he perceives his father to be.
Accordingly, Charles demonstrates childish resentment and lack of empathy when reliving childhood memories with his father; the immaturity and decades-old emotions that Charles carries from his childhood suggest that to some extent, a part of his consciousness remains in his past rather than in his present. In this way, Charles can be understood as a younger version of his father. Charles opens Chapter Three by recalling his earliest memories of his father. These memories quickly diverge from bedtime story times to the “Years of his life, my life, his life with my mom, years and years and years, down in that garage, near us, but not with us, near us in space and time … ” (Yu 17-18). Although Charles claims twice that his father was near the family, he implies that this nearness entailed limited intimacy. Psychologically speaking, awareness of space and time is crucial in the development of one’s consciousness and presence. Evidently, only this consciousness would ensure that his father was “with” him. By stating that his dad was once near to the family in space and time, Charles reveals his perspective that his father’s lack of consciousness within their relationship was an active choice; although he had the means to be present, he chose distance from his family. Thus, without any attempt to evaluate his father’s psyche or reasoning, Charles uncompassionately frames his father as selfish in his evasion of the present. This immature perspective is furthered by Charles’ language. His initial choppy syntax suggests a turbulent state of mind, and the following repetition of “years” has a childish, tantrum-like quality to it. Evidently, resentment of his father’s absence throughout his childhood partially traps the grown Charles in those past memories and prevents him from living in the present. This ultimately demonstrates that Charles chooses to live his life defined by what he identifies as his father’s worst quality.
This immaturity carries over to Charles’ description of the relationship he presumably envisions with a more ideal father. Charles mirrors his dad’s self-centered motives with his own, suggesting to readers that he is equally as selfish as he perceived his father to be. The novel features themes of the American dream and immigrant experience, specifically through Charles’ father’s work mindset and its effect on his relationship with his son. From Charles’ perspective, his father prioritized his own future and the possibility of a functioning time machine over their relationship; although he faults his father for this perception, Charles’ most desirable image of a father-son relationship can be understood as highly selfish. While reliving the day his father’s efforts were supposed to be rewarded, Charles is distracted from the failing time machine demonstration by the concurrent scene of a son entering the nearby baseball field “behind his dad, who looks like a real athlete, like he could have played two sports in college … ” (Yu 185). Considering the placement of the scene as an interruption of his dad’s demonstration –– and the immediate distraction it poses for Charles –– he prioritizes his dream of an alternate, idealized father-son relationship over his father’s present opportunity. Rather than concerning himself with his father’s crisis, Charles shifts his attention towards the baseball father and son, who “set up about fifty feet away from each other, two endpoints of a little father-son axis, and the dad began lobbing slow overhand pitches to his son … ” (Yu 185-86). While his dad’s American dream is to become a self-made success story, Charles’ American dream is better understood through this American baseball game. The game reveals that Charles envisions a father-son relationship that caters only to his own happiness. This seemingly ideal relationship that Charles envisions is not perfectly equal; rather, the father caters to the child, limiting his own athletic capabilities as a potential “two-sport athlete” to gentle lobs for his son’s benefit. In essence, the scene suggests that Charles idealizes a father who sacrifices his own dreams or talents for his son’s benefit; hypocritically, Charles’ engagement in the baseball scene is only possible through his complete disregard of his father’s best interests. Thus, in this moment and moments preceding it, Charles is no better than his father.
And yet, as the baseball scene continues, the young boy in the ideal father-son axis hits a home run. Both this moment and its aftermath initiate Charles’ character development and maturity; exemplified through his syntax and language, this shifting point enables Charles to become his own person, a separate entity from his father and his father’s mistakes. The overarching theme of this baseball metaphor –– represented by the impossibility of predicting which swing will hit a home run, and that when the ball is hit, the “sound it [makes]. It [is] a perfect sound. Crack.” –– is the value of a single moment (Yu 186). This point is emphasized in the quote through extreme brevity of the three sentences; moreover, it is significant as a representation of Charles’ regard of time: for the first time in the novel, Charles realizes that to truly live and experience triumph, as this young boy has by hitting a home run, he must be present for the other “three dozen pitches and four or five dinky glance hits” (Yu 186). In other words, Charles comes to understand the value of living in the present. Following this epiphany is the realization that his father will not follow him into the present. Both in this memory and in the context of the story, Charles’ father remains lost in the future: “The only person who hadn’t watched [the home run] was my dad. I didn’t know it then, but now, I see it” (Yu 186). As he directly states, Charles’ new perspective allows him to see what he could not before: while he must reenter the present, his father will never return with him. While this truth is upsetting, Charles’ sentence structure reveals acceptance of this reality. Closing the quote with the short but significant clause “I see it” gives the full sentence extra weight and finality. Because this note of finality follows his decision to reenter the present moment, it provides closure to Charles without challenging his choice. Thus, as the novel’s end draws nearer, Charles demonstrates maturity in his willingness to grow as an individual, rather than as a son intrinsically tied to his father.
With this understanding, Charles finds the inner strength necessary to let go of his father, breaking his final tie to a time frame other than the present; as seen through Charles’ new definition of self, this break enables him to better himself and grow as an individual. In pages approaching this turning point in his character growth, Charles encounters an alternate version of himself, who orders him to “get back to [his] life and stop being such a whiny little wuss. Be a man. Find [his] father, tell him [he loves] him. Then let him go” (Yu 139). Alternate Charles’ language alludes to protagonist Charles’ self-pitying, childish ways, inferring that his behavior renders him less mature than a full man. While growing up and into a “man” generally connotes adapting to some level of toxic masculinity, this definition instead requires Charles to develop emotional maturity. This entails finding the strength to love his father and to develop a sense of self and purpose beyond that family tie. Charles achieves this by the end of the novel, despite his final insistence against personal growth: “I am still the asshole who shot myself the first time around, which is to say, I’ll always be the asshole who shoots myself … ” (227). Earlier in the novel, Chapter 14 opens with the line: “When it happens, this is what happens: I shoot myself … I shoot my future self” (Yu 88). Both early in the novel and later on page 227, Charles narrates his conscious thoughts in the present tense, yet his definition of “self” is shown to have shifted over the course of the book. On page 88, Charles unites his present and future self with a single word: “myself.” Contrastingly, on page 227, he divides the word into two, distinguishing himself in that moment from his previous, or past, self. The underlying meaning of this strategically broken word undermines the initial reading of Charles’ words; ultimately, it suggests that Charles is in fact not the same person who runs in fear from his identity and his present. Rather, as seen through his textual definition of self, Charles chooses to live primarily in the present. This choice proves that he achieves the growth he once desired only in his father; for this reason, readers conclude the novel with the knowledge that Charles is a better person and man.
The purpose of this essay has been to prove that Charles ultimately seeks betterment as an individual. This is done through the development of an argument that assumes Charles’ emotional maturity and growth over the course of How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe can be assessed in his ability to love and accept his father, while still breaking off their restricting father-son ties. While it addresses Charles’ everchanging regard for his father, this essay fails to consider his poor regard for or treatment of his mother; moreover, it fails to address that this constant factor contradicts any positive personal growth. Throughout the novel, Charles’ mother is disregarded and mistreated by both her son and husband, suggesting that it is a learned behavior passed down from father to son. Ironically, the essay concludes that by learning from his father’s mistakes, Charles betters himself as a man; this reveals an inherent flaw in the thesis’ applicability to the novel at large. The novel’s protagonist conclusively grows to accept his father, but there is no such closure or care shown to his mother. Informed readers understand that at least some elements of the novel are based on Yu’s personal experiences; given the mental and emotional space Charles’ father-son relationship holds in his psyche, they question whether this unresolved, disproportionate focus on the father over the mother was purposeful, serving as written proof that there is always another area of one’s character to grow in. Perhaps it is simply a manifestation of the author’s own misogyny, and therefore an area of growth for author Charles Yu.