andyschreiber

The second half of Dawn was... really weird. Butler incorporates more human characters, which allows a more complex relationship between humanity and the Oankali to develop.

Peter's death gave me a massive realization about the text. The ooloi drugged nearly every human after the incidient. The humans couldn't have done any damage to the ship or the ooloi, it was merely the other humans that could've been in some sort of danger. I never thought that the relationship between ooloi and humans could be considered balanced, but this response indicates something sinister. The ooloi think about humans like they are property that must be protected and handled.

I think the human race is a metaphor for slaves in Dawn. Joeseph says at the end of III, "What will we be I wonder? Not human, not anymore". The dialog reminds me of a conversation between two captured Africans heading towards the New World. In part one the ooloi never let Lilith read any books, which seemed pretty arbitrary until I remembered that masters used the same tactic on slaves. Another tactic - keeping the house slaves isolated as much as possible to breed affection and trust with the master's family. The ooloi justified abducting the humans by saying our people were slaughtering eachother. Africa at the time of Colonialism was ridden with war, and the early slave drivers promised a more peaceful existence for the Africans. Just like the white slave owners, the ooloi provide a stabler environment for the children but take away the right of the people to choose their own partners.

This book, as well as Never Let Me Go, got me seriously thinking about the importance of reproduction. Prior to Nikanj's admittance he secretly impregnanted Lilith (no comment), they talk about the less-than-compliant humans who will most likely flee upon planetary arrival. Nikanj does not seem bothered by this fact in the slightest, despite the possibility that the ooloi could lose a massive share of the remaining human genetic diversity. Reproduction, it seems, is so essential and relevant that it supersedes the strongest conscious intent. 

A historical perspective is probably the best approach to the unanswerable question: what is human? Before I delve into the texts, I'll write down (for your amusement) my current perspective. "Human" is an abstraction. At an atomic level, we are essentially interchangeable with our surroundings: carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, and trace elements of metals. At a cellular and even genetic level, we are upwards of 99% identical to our closest evolutionary relative. And so, as far as the universe is concerned, human beings are utterly unremarkable. Such realities cause me to question the supposed holiness of ideas such as universal rights and morals. Yet in the humble 0.0001% in which we define our individual existences I am compelled to recognize distinction, and occasionally incredible uniqueness. That is worth protecting, not because a divine being supposedly said so, but because its all we have.

 Du Bois and Spillers both offer pointed criticisms of how some have rejected the humanity of blacks in America. Du Bois jarring message that death is the "leveler" and "revealer" interested me from a societal perspective. Over the past hundreds of years, decades even, humanity made great strides in recognizing the equality of all people. Du Bois would suggest that death played a role in this - once the entrenched intolerant people die, the next generation sees more clearly and so the cycle continues. In a future society where death is no longer a determined factor of life, will society change? Can society change?

Another quote at the end of Audre Lorde's poem caught my attention, " we were never meant to survive"(41) - The Black Unicorn

I know this would be a reaching interpretation, but I think this line beautifully ties together the W.E.B. Du Bois and Spillers text with a central theme of Battlestar Galatica. Why do we commit the moral crimes of racism, sexism, and class divisions when the dire consequences are known? We are merely human. We are the apex life form on Earth and so its hard to claim in comparison that humanity is any less than ideal. Yet perhaps the only reason we believe that is because our evolutionary successors have not appeared or at least made themselves apparent. As we saw in BS:G, the emergence of a potentially superior race will force mankind to wonder why we took for granted our individual and species continued existence for so long.

(Dreamweaver is not letting me unitalicize :( )

 

Female character 1st-person perspectives tend to be hit-or-miss for me, especially with a male author. That said, Never Let Me Go pulled me in before I could pronounce Ishiguro ( " カズオ・イシグロ " is the correct pronunciation, evidently). The diction so.... controlled. Thanks, back-cover. Seriously though Mr. Ishiguro's diction thoroughly impressed me, particularly with how he spoke through the mouths of children. 

One random example that I mini-dog-eared (gasp) in my book....
'"Let's just agree. Let's agree I got it in the Sale.' Then she gave us all a knowing smile. This might sound a pretty innocuous sort of response, but actually it was like she'd suddenly got up and hit me, and for the next few moments I felt hot and chilly at the same time. (top of 57)

I'm pretty sure my sister has said, verbatim, the same line as Ruth. Reading that was so weird because it both broke my immersion by bringing me back to reality yet at the same time throwing me deeper into the text as my trust in the author surged. I tend to get frustrated when character behavior is substantially different than what the surrounding text would lead me to believe and I never ran into that issue with Never Let Me Go. 

The reproduction/speculation aspect of this book is interesting to me because it focuses less on the technology and society and more on the characters. Go figure. I guess Ishiguro is able to make me, I can't believe I'm about to write this, care about the fictional characters. Harvesting them for organs seems well... cruel. I can't just turn my cheek like I could with ABNW. Its not like I've gone soft or anything though.

Looks like I need to get  thinking.

Ah I remember being strangely uplifted by this quote " Slowly, very slowly, like two unhurried compass needles, the feet turned towards the right; north, north-east, east, south-east, south, south-south-west; then paused, and, after a few seconds, turned as unhurriedly back towards the left. South-south-west, south, south-east, east. " and what do you know, I get that same feeling again. I'll get back to why I feel that way in a moment.

 I think its reasonable to look at John's suicide and think that hey, John's upbringing was essentially to shun every aspect of the society of the World State and so its not surprising that he ends up extremely unhappy (and then dead). The first time I read A Brave New World, I entertained a viewpoint that the fact that John dies in the end without making a significant impact on society is evidence that perhaps society itself is the main protagonist and John is merely a means through which Huxley characterizes and develops society. Yet looking closely at the diction of these final lines, a very different perspective pops into my mind.

 I think that there is some deep meaning in Huxley's diction here - he is giving John a entirely new layer of significance. The phrase his feet are "like two unhurried compass needles", indicates that, in death, John has gained a sense of direction. While that sounds nice, one is left to wonder why is that important - after all he is dead. I think it suggests that John is a compass for society. His direction? Every direction. No, any direction. This is Johns final criticism on society - that life is irrelevant without a guiding path. Maybe that guiding path is religion, a drive to discover, a desire to help others, or something else entirely (John faces in all directions). The only invalid direction is none. 

Now why do I find this uplifting? Because it caused me to reconsider a feeling I got from this quote "But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin." from when John talks to World Controller Mustapha Mond. When John says that, I feel a little sad because it sounds so hollow; Mond's proposition seems so much more reasonable. Yet the final line shows that our society permits us to have one luxury that cannot be replicated in the World State - a purpose.