If you can't achieve synthesis, how about an orgy of violence?
One of the most fascinating elements of modern speculative fiction, that descendant of scientifiction, of SFF, of sci-fi, of fantastical literature, of cyberpunk, of the new wave—is how it arises from very different sources, aspiring toward a pinnacle. You might call it a pyramid of sorts, with cornerstones laid in literary fiction, pulp fiction, and heroic sagas. It’s synthetic and syncretic and there’s really nothing else like it except perhaps modern mystery. Which is probably because mystery arises from a similar polyamorous quickening.
But an interesting side effect of this is that it results in an art form composed of multiple conflicting impulses. Building blocks that don’t have a coherent shape and size, so they have to be fitted together like a drystone wall into an apparent whole. The literary imperative is in tension with the pulp imperative. I’d joke that this is why we can’t have nice things, but sometimes it’s exactly the reason we get nice things.