Poverty and Paranoia in "Parable"

One of the most shocking things to me in Parable of the Sower is the relationship between Lauren and people she doesn’t know. On the road, she has many small interactions with people but all of them are fraught with distrust and apprehension on both sides. When she helps an old man up after the earthquake, he is frightened of her. She is wary of him, too: “I gave him a pat on the shoulder and sent him on his way, checking when his back was turned to see that he hadn’t lifted anything. The world was full of thieves. Old people and young kids were often pickpockets.” She and everyone else have an innate distrust of everyone, and she really hasn’t had much cause to think otherwise. In Robledo, sharing her secrets quickly results in being scolded, and only recently has Lauren had anyone to share her ideas about Earthseed with. The road is a scary place. Everyone is frightened of a bigger fish and ready to bite like a cornered dog if stressed. This is why it takes so long for Natividad and Travis to warm to the gang. It’s also why Bankole is such an arresting character to Lauren: he is not scared of the group, but does not try to threaten them.

The people on the road seem to move as a massive, turbulent but slow wave. When they see the burning buildings after the quake, the wave speeds up and begins to wash over the town. None of these people are trying to be evil or kill people, but are doing their best to survive. And if survival means taking someone else’s belongings by force, it’s what must be done. Everyone is so guarded with possessions and emotions that they appear to be tough, gritty cowboys, but are really just people. It struck me how changed this is from other books: in Handmaid’s Tale, Brave New World, and 1984, there is an overarching power structure telling people not to reveal their emotions, but here the paranoia is self-imposed because of poverty.

Part of Earthseed is trust: knowing that you can only change, but not depend on, anything. Inside Robledo and out, Lauren is a trusting person. On the road, trust can get you hurt, but the gang has extremely good luck finding good people—or perhaps their trust changes those they meet.

Utopias and Dystopias: Best and Worst

Now that we’re almost done reading the books for this class, we can reflect on them a little bit. I’m not entirely sure which book will have the most impact on me in the long run. It’ll be interesting to see in a couple years if any of them stick in my head.

Right now, for my favorite, I’m torn between The Handmaid’s Tale and Parable of the Sower. I like them both because they’re the easiest to imagine living in. 1984 and Brave New World are interesting, but they’re more speculative than personal, as the characters are fairly removed from the way we are today. The personal connection really endears me to Handmaid’s Tale and Parable. While Handmaid’s Tale can be somewhat tedious, Parable is so upsetting that it’s difficult to read, even if I am totally engrossed. Also, I like that Handmaid’s Tale is totally clear about the structure of the dystopia and why it came to be. Parable does a good job displaying anarchy and survival details, but I just can’t get around the fact that we don’t know exactly why the U.S. got to be so bad. So I guess The Handmaid’s Tale takes the prize on my list.

I didn’t dislike 1984, but I won’t say I adored it. I do think it was important to read, and (besides Parable) it felt the most bleak. I thought its commentary on politics and privacy were interesting, if sometimes oversimplified. I never particularly cared for Winston, though, so that knocked it down a peg. I still think it’s an important book to read at least once, though. My least favorite by far was Brave New World. The beginning was kind of promising, and Bernard was a funny dude. But when John was introduced, the plotting of the book was basically ruined for me. Why did the protagonist “switch” halfway through the book? Why did it just end with his suicide instead of refocusing on the society? Still, it brought up interesting points on industrialization, and I’m sure it was very important for its time.

Again, my views are totally subjective and are mostly based on what I found to be “enjoyable.” If you want to argue with me, go for it. What did everyone else think of the books? What were your favorites and least favorites?

Earthseed

In Parable of the Sower, a new proposition arises. Our main character, Lauren, calls it Earthseed. But what exactly is it? Can we really call it a religion? 

In the start, Lauren herself is not exactly sure, and refers to it simply as a “belief system”. The belief system stems from her idea that God is change, and everything is change. In Lauren’s world, rather than basing her beliefs on a set divinity or higher power, she bases them off of the importance of change. For her, being a devout disciple of Earthseed is your resolve to change the world and make it a better place. It is the idea of social change and spiritual change, the virtuous determination to amend society for the better.

This makes total sense considering Lauren’s situation — not only does she suffer from a Hyperempathy disorder where she feels the pain of others around her, the society she lives in is in the midst of withering times. In the book, modern-day vice has produced a level of profound instability and dysfunction at its worst, with rising inequality, conflict, crime, and corruption… it only makes sense that she crafts what she calls Earthseed. It is her only hope at an improved existence, a life without pain or suffering.

Her faith and hopefulness is unblemished when she says, I am Earthseed. Anyone can be. Someday, I think there will be a lot of us. And I think we’ll have to seed ourselves farther and farther away from this dying place.    

Lauren wishes to spread the seeds of her faith to others, just like how a sower plants seeds. Which sheds light on the meaning behind the title, Parable of the Sower.

The Ministry of Truth

In 1984, Winston works in the Ministry of Truth, which we all know is more like a ministry of lies. They deal with falsifying records so that history sounds how the government wants it to. I wanted to look at incidents in history where a government shaped the way history was told.

Pakistan and India used to be one country before the British split them with the idea one would be for Muslims and the other for Hindus because they couldn’t really get along. But was there ever a time they could? Yeah actually. When the British conquered India, their strategy was to divide and conquer. The colonial narrative split India into “a nation of communities, above all what were deemed the two great communities of Hindu and Muslim”. The British emphasized their differences and shaped the way history was told. The British went to the Hindus and fueled their nationalist ideas by saying they had a Golden era before the Muslims invaded and screwed things up, so “Many Indian nationalist leaders found it useful, specifically, to accept the notion of an Indian Golden Age that ended with the presumed oppression of Muslim rule.” The British also went to the Muslims though and told them the Golden era was during their rule. These ideologies stayed with the people and fuel conflict to this day. So, like the Ministry of Truth, the British changed the way history was told and they ended up fueling hate between the Muslims and the Hindus from which comes conflict.
(My sister was doing a research project for her history class and told me about this. The book is Islamic Contestations Essays on Muslims in India and Pakistan by Barbara D. Metcalf)

Another way I feel like we have a “Ministry of Truth” is not by literally recording history differently, but by framing events in a certain way that helps you make your point. I’m pretty sure we all have read I am Malala at one point. When you learn about her, lessons generally frame the conflict as if it can all be solved by education and that you should always stand up for what you believe in. But people living in northern Pakistan don’t necessarily agree with this. The issues they deal with are more complex and can’t all be solved by getting an education, so saying education can solve everything is an oversimplification. Generally, people there, including the girls (Malala focuses on girl’s education), want to be safe and stay alive more than they want to go to school. People also aren’t necessarily willing to stand up for themselves because Malala did get shot and she got lucky. So, as you can imagine, it’s not easy for them to be convinced to fight for girls’ education. I feel like this relates to the Ministry of Truth because how you learn about these issues changes your view, like how the Ministry changes their records so that Big Brother is always right, which makes the people more willing to love and trust Big Brother.
(Now I’m not saying that fighting for girl’s education is bad, it’s just that it’s not their only problem, their issues are a lot more complex than sending girls to school).

The last thing I want to address is how the media’s portrayal of other countries is similar to the Ministry of Truth. The Ministry of Truth changed its records to say that they have always been at war with Eastasia when they switched from being at war with Eurasia. It was important to them to make it seem like they never switched sides. The portrayal of the war helps them keep their people in check. The media’s portrayal of a country shapes how you view it and media tends to portray Pakistan as a backward, dangerous, poor country full of terrorists. But hopefully, you guys don’t believe that because it’s a terrible stereotype. Once someone was talking with my dad and my dad mentioned how my family often visits Pakistan. The other guy was kind of surprised because “isn’t it dangerous there” to which my dad replied, “it’s about as safe as schools in the U.S.”

There are a lot more examples of “real life Ministries of Truth” but here were a few. Can you guys think of any examples that aren’t well known?

Winston and Humanity

Winston is an intriguing character. He has some terrible characteristics, such as his blatant sexism and objectification of other people, so that presents a barrier to me caring about what happens to him or liking him. And because of this, I struggled to get into the novel.  

I can point out the exact place where I start to care about what happens to Winston: beginning of part 2, page 106. Winston sees Julia (who at this point is potentially a member of the thought police) trip. He considers: “In front of him was an enemy who was trying to kill him; in front of him, also, was a human creature, in pain and perhaps with a broken bone. Already he had instinctively started forward to help her. In the moment when he had seen her fall on the bandaged arm, it had been as though he felt the pain in his own body” (105-106). This is the first time where Winston does something for another person, not because the party tells him that he must, but because he can. In this moment, he shows that he’s still a human who is capable of empathy. It’s interesting that Winston sees it as something that’s not a big deal, that’s just common sense for humans, when the structure of Oceania (and the rest of the world, for that matter) is based on forcing people to disregard empathy entirely. I had to reread this paragraph because I was so surprised. I remember thinking “Wow, he actually can empathize.”

Still, it takes him the entirety of part 1 to get to this. (I’m not impressed.) Perhaps this is why it’s so hard to relate to/care about Winston in the beginning of the novel: he is mostly controlled by Big Brother. He goes to work, he doesn’t care who gets vaporized, he participates in two minutes hate. He questions, but not openly. Rather than take up the act of rebellion himself, he always says that the proles must do it.

Winston directly addresses his humanity in a conversation with Julia just before they go to find O’Brien. He says that Big Brother “can’t get inside you. If you can feel that staying human is worth while, even when it can’t have any result whatsoever, you’ve beaten them” (166). By this point, he is not only invested in himself, he’s invested in Julia and the possibility of undermining Big Brother. He actually cares about things.

When we had to make predictions about what happens next, I said that Winston and Julia would get caught. That happened. I also thought that they would “lose their humanity” somehow—a loss of empathy, a horrible crime, something. What happens with that remains to be seen. However, once they were caught, Winston phrases his feelings similarly as in his first interaction with Julia: “Even in his terror it was as though he could feel the pain in his own body” (223). I don’t know if Orwell meant for there to be a such strong parallel in the phrasing, but it would be interesting if these encounters functioned as bookends to “empathetic Winston.” I wonder what side of Winston we’ll see now that he’s in captivity.

Do you struggle with Winston? Do you think humanity is a main theme in the novel, and is it dealt with enough for you?

Representativity

Dr. E once told us to take a long time to write essays and think about them constantly: “imagine it as you go to bed, and wake up glistering in the middle of the night with ideas.” He gave us a month to write the paper, but being Uni students, we disregarded his sage advice and turned in subpar essays written in two days, with as little thought put into them as possible. I have found in many classes that, surprisingly, spending time on papers really does make them better. I once wrote a paper in 20^th Century Novel about a topic I found really compelling, and I talked people’s ears off about it given the opportunity. I worked a little bit on it every night and found myself thinking about it in the shower and when I woke up. I was glistering, and I ended up with a paper I could be proud of.

But busy students with six extracurriculars and five sports and 16 video games to play like us never have the spare brainspace to think about school outside of school if we’re not being forced. And that’s good in some ways: time to play, to relax the mind, is really important. But all too frequently, our “play” time is spent on stuff that really just keeps the mind spinning. Action-packed video games are my favorite example of this—you get a rush of adrenaline, you think fast, you process information as fast as you can and you get overloaded. The downtime your body was expecting after a long day of attention is replaced by more information, and that causes us to feel stressed. I really liked Dante’s post a while ago about meditation. While I’m not asking everybody to go listen to Glass compositions for an hour every day, I think we could all use some downtime, and that’s something that, like Dante, we need to force ourselves into.

Another thing Uni students are missing is sleep. Sleep is the most extreme kind of “downtime.” It organizes your brain and reduces stress, especially REM sleep. Many studies have shown that the amount of sleep you get directly affects your academic performance. And Uni students are pros at getting less than 6 hours and continuing to truck through the school day. As with the other stuff I’m talking about, there are some underlying issues on this that our Utopias and Dystopias class could never hope to solve with class policies. And as AA says, acknowledgement of your problem is the first step. Why do Uni students get so little sleep? Is it a status symbol to not sleep, implying you studied really hard? What causes insomnia, and why? Are we just that bad at time management, watching Youtube until 2 and doing homework until 4? Importantly, are we unique in this or do other schools with less “driven, intelligent” students (quotation marks because Uni tends to control for other variables besides those nominal ones: for example, it more controls for driven parents) feel the same pressures, implying wider societal issues in addition to Uni-specific issues?

 These are questions to answer in an essay, not a blog post. I’ve had 5 years to notice this trend and taken personal effort to prioritize sleep, mental health, and downtime for myself. I’ve also had parents who support me in this, which many do not. I think Uni students should think about these issues of stress and relaxation for themselves, and honestly evaluate their own behavior and how it affects them.

A Variety of Endings

In class we discussed whether or not we were satisfied with The Handmaid’s Tale ending and if we thought the historical notes were a good addition. I liked the final section, as it gave us hope for Gilead to fall and it closely resembled how we discuss similar real-life tragedies—somewhat coldly, but also informatively. Not as personally affecting as the emotional personal recount, but it filled in some informational gaps. Then again, it did take away from the narrative by dulling the ambiguity that Offred left us as the end of her story. The addition made it strange to have Offred end on the note she did in the first place. That doesn’t mean there wasn’t ambiguity at all—we don’t know Offred’s ultimate fate, for example—but it was a weird structural choice.

I haven’t watched the Hulu series yet (I probably will over break), but from what I understand, it expands on characters and even continues the story, going further than the book did. Does this imply that the characters are going to cause big change within the regime? I didn't think it was important that the characters we meet quickly cause a revolution, so I’m a bit worried that the show could go in that direction. I could be wrong, though.

Margaret Atwood announced a sequel to her novel, called The Testaments, but has given few details besides it being set fifteen years later and there being three narrators. After reading The Handmaid’s Tale, I’m curious about the sequel, but part of me also wonders how necessary it is. Atwood said that on top of readers’ questions about Gilead’s “inner workings,” her “other inspiration is the world we've been living in.” I want to see what else Atwood will have to say about politics and women’s rights, especially since attitudes about certain things may have changed since The Handmaid’s Tale was published. What’s odd is that the new book is even further away in time from the original takeover, further from a world we are more familiar with. How will that allow her to incorporate the problems we are facing now?

So what is the purpose of ending a story a certain way? The ending of Offred’s story is artistic, but the historical notes are informational. The tv show has potential to end in an uncomfortably "Hollywood" fashion, but I’m guessing (and hoping) that it will stick to the tone of the books. Both the show and the sequel are able to explore Gilead’s citizens and their issues more deeply, and put a bit of modern context into things, which is super cool. But I’m still left with questions. What is the purpose of expanding this world? How are we supposed to end these stories, and what do those endings mean to us? Do all of the endings stand alone well and work together well at the same time? Do you have an ending or approach that you favor over the others?