Good, creative novels are beneficial for their readers not just for the enjoyment they induce but also for the ideas they produce. This post is about two dystopian novels, one published earlier this year and the other back in 1993.
Celeste Ng is an
American novelist whose
parents were born in mainland China and in Hong Kong. Ng (b. 1980) became
widely known with the publication of Little Fires Everywhere in 2017 and
the eight-episode 2020 streaming television series based on that book.
Although I found Ng’s 2017 novel a good read, I was more impressed with her 2022 novel Our Missing Hearts. The title of Steven King’s Sept. 22 review in The New York Times sums it up well: “Celeste Ng’s Dystopia Is Uncomfortably Close to Reality.”
Following what is called the Crisis, the federal government
seeks to make the U.S. great again. This is attempted partly by the passing of the
Preserving American Culture and Traditions Act (PACT).
Under PACT, questionable books are not only banned, those
found offensive are pulped and turned into toilet paper.
Further, because of what is believed to be a major
economic/cultural threat by the Chinese, there is considerable opposition to
anyone who looks Asian. The main characters of Ng’s novel are a Chinese
American woman married to a White man and Bird, their 12-year-old son.
The children of parents considered by PACT to be culturally
or politically subversive are “re-placed” in foster families. Consequently,
Bird’s mother goes missing in order to spare him from being re-placed.
The impact of Ng’s novel was lessened somewhat by the
midterm elections, which turned out to be a win for democracy and a loss for
the MAGA voters and the authoritarianism they were (many perhaps unwittingly)
supporting. Prejudice against Chinese/Asians, however, may continue to
increase.
Perhaps to a small degree, the election turned out as it did
because of what can be called self-negating prophecy. Sometimes things
don’t happen as predicted because enough people take action to keep those dire
predictions from being fulfilled.
In that way, novelists, and especially those who write creative
dystopian novels, can be seen as prophets who declare what will happen if
appropriate steps are not taken to prevent those dreadful situations from taking
place.
Let’s hope that is also true with regard to a second
novelist I am currently reading.
Octavia Butler is an engaging Black writer whom I was
not aware of until recently. More than thirty years ago she planned to write a
trilogy of dystopian novels. The first of those is Parable of the Sower (1993),
and it was followed by Parable of the Talents (1998).**
Unfortunately, Butler died in 2006 at the youngish age of 58
before she finished the third volume. I have just finished reading Butler’s
chilling first book and have started to read the sequel.
Beginning in 2024, when society in the United States has
grown unstable due to climate change, growing wealth inequality, and corporate
greed, Parable of the Sower takes the form of a journal kept by Lauren,
a precocious African American teenager—and religious “philosopher.”
In that 1993 novel, climate change, economic recession, and
extensive misuse of drugs lead to a total breakdown of society. Beginning in
2024, Lauren experiences horrific loss and suffering, which ends to an extent for
her and her companions with the founding of a religious community in 2027.
(Early in the sequel, Butler has Lauren writing about one of
the candidates for the 2032 presidential election in the nation still beset by ongoing societal problems. His appeal to the voters is, “Help us to make
America great again.”)
Perhaps sometimes “the words of the
prophets are written on the subway walls,” but they are more effectively
written in books by novelists such as Celeste Ng and Octavia Butler.
May we be smart enough to understand what such novelists are
saying and proactive enough to help their dystopian novels to become self-negating
prophecies.
_____
** Here is the link to “Octavia Butler’s Prescient
Vision of a Zealot Elected to ‘Make America Great Again’,” a long, July 2017
article in The New Yorker. June (my wife) doesn’t like to read dystopian
novels, but she found this article about Butler to be quite interesting.