Margaret Atwood: on fiction, the future and the environment

"The Japanese Lover" by Isabel Allende

There are many love stories in this novel by Isabel Allende, but it was not the title that attracted me to it. The hook was the first chapter. It narrates the story of Irina, a young woman from Moldova who is hired to work at Lark House, an imaginary nursing home located in California.

  Irina bonds with the residents of Lark House because she is kind, sensitive and caring. After an unexpected turn of events, Irina is also hired to work a few hours a week for Alma, one of the residents.

  Both Irina and Alma harbor secrets that hold the suspense of the novel till the end.

 Even though they had different backgrounds, Alma and Irina had something in common: they’d both migrated to America under difficult circumstances.  Alma had moved to the United States from Poland at age seven when her Jewish parents, terrified by the rise of Nazism, sent her to live with her uncle and aunt in America. During her childhood she met Ichimei, a family friend with whom she fell in love.

   The story is narrated from an omniscient point of view. The present and past moments of their lives alternate and the writer paints the intimate landscapes of the characters’ thoughts and emotions. We also get to know the Japanese lover through the letters that he wrote to Alma.

 This novel encouraged me to learn more about American history. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese government in 1941 President Roosevelt declared war on Japan. On the West Coast of the United States of America thousands of American citizens of Japanese background were detained and sent to concentration camps for no other reason than their race. Their bank accounts and possessions were confiscated by the government.

“The Japanese had to quickly sell off whatever they owned at knockdown prices, and to close their businesses. They soon discovered that their bank accounts had been frozen; they were ruined.”

“By August, more than a hundred and twenty thousand men, women and children would be evacuated, old people snatched from hospitals, babies from orphanages, and mental patients from asylums. They would be interned in ten concentration camps in isolated areas of the interior, while cities would be left with phantom neighborhoods full of empty homes and desolate streets, where abandoned pets and the confused spirit of the ancestors who had arrived in America with the immigrants wandered aimlessly.”

 I think this is a relevant reminder of how hate speeches fueled by fanaticism, racism and economic hardship do have consequences. Nevertheless, those consequences were presented under the veil of censorship.

“It was a temporary solution and would be carried out in a humane fashion. This was the official line, but meanwhile the hate speech spread. ‘A snake is always a snake, wherever it lays its eggs. A Japanese-American born of Japanese parents, brought up in a Japanese tradition, living in an atmosphere transplanted from Japan, inevitably and with only rare exceptions grows up as Japanese and not American. They are all enemies.’ It was enough to have a great-grandfather born in Japan to be seen as a snake.”

  Another important subject that this novel touches is that of sex trafficking and forced prostitution. This cruel horrifying “business” is one of the most profitable in the world, and it makes me wonder why it has not been eradicated yet. Is it because there are many “customers” out there who are willing to pay for sex slaves? Is it because society is too busy slut-shaming victims instead of helping them?

    This novel is about love, friendship and trust, and what I enjoyed the most about it is that the author merged the political and social aspects of it with the personal lives of the characters. The end is bittersweet, a reflection on the timelessness and endurance of love.

The Metamorphosis and other stories

  

“Shall I tell you what I think are the two qualities of a work of art? First, it must be the indescribable and second, it must be inimitable.” Renoir

 This quote puts into words what I felt when I read “The Metamorphosis” and other stories by Franz Kafka.  I will only discuss his most famous story here: “The Metamorphosis”.

 I will refrain from writing about the other tales in this collection. Suffice it to say that there are situations and experiences in life that cannot be explained. Yet they find a way to be expressed in Kafka’s tales.

 The Metamorphosis is the comical account of a man who transforms into an insect.

 “When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous insect.”

Even his voice changed:

 "It was unmistakably his own voice as of old, but mixed in with it, as if from below, was an irrepressible painful squeaking and this only left the sound of the words clear for a moment, before distorting them so much that one could not tell if one had heard them properly.”

 Interestingly, Gregor was not concerned about the changes he’d undergone but about the fact that he had to get ready to go to work. He knew that if he did not take the train on time he would be in trouble.  He was right.  The chief clerk came to his house to admonish him.

 The possibility of losing his job waylaid his future even though he had not missed a day at work for five years.

 The lack of trust in him surfaces and he reflects on it:

“Why on earth was Gregor condemned to work for a firm where the slightest lapse immediately gave rise to the gravest suspicion? Were all the employees, then, scoundrels to a man; was there not one loyal, dedicated worker among them, when the mere failure to devote an hour or two to the firm one morning was enough to drive crazy with remorse,-- so much so that he was actually incapable of getting out of bed? Would it really not have been enough to send an apprentice round to inquire—assuming all this chasing up to be necessary at all? Did the chief clerk really have to come in person, so demonstrating to the whole innocent family that the investigation of this suspicious affair could be entrusted to his wisdom alone?"

  The chief clerk was not in the least worried about Gregor’s medical condition but about the fulfillment of his duties:

“ Her Samsa,” the chief clerk now called out, raising his voice, “what’s the matter with you? Here you are barricading yourself in your room, giving only yes or no for an answer, causing your parents a great deal of unnecessary anxiety, and besides -- I merely mention this in passing – neglecting your duties towards the firm in a positively outrageous manner.”

    The interactions with his family and his surroundings are carefully carved. They are rich in nuances about Gregor’s new existence.

Gregor was worried about his family responsibilities, but not about his identity. Although he had to endure the consequences of being an insect I could not find a single line stating that he was willing to return to his previous condition. He even began to enjoy it:

“In particular he enjoyed hanging from the ceiling; it was quite different from lying on the floor; one could breathe more freely, one felt a faint pulsation through the whole of one’s body, and in Gregor’s state of almost contended distraction up there it could happen to his own surprise that he let himself go and fell smack on the floor. But now, of course, he had his body under much better control than before and even when falling from such a height he did himself no damage.”

What is Franz Kafka telling us in “The Metamorphosis”?

  I believe “The Metamorphosis” is a clever allegory. This humorous tale portrays the experience of being an independent thinker.

  Changes are transformative.  “The Metamorphosis” symbolizes those changes that somebody who is open to learning is expected to accept. However, independent thinkers are often vilified, derided, ridiculed, belittled, misunderstood and even ignored.

 If you are drawn to surreal literature and allegories you may want to read “The Tent”, a collection of stories by Margaret Atwood. 

Stone Mattress

 Margaret Atwood’s writing cast a spell on me again.

 These stories have the satirical wit of Kurt Vonnegut, the enchanting stream of consciousness of James Joyce, the insightful ingenuity and visionary power of George Orwell and Aldous Huxley. Her prose exudes the deep understanding of the human soul that writers like Grazia Deledda and Kate Chopin had, but the tales in "Stone Mattress" are fresh. They are enmeshed in the problems that assail humanity today.

  There is something unique about her style and the details she displays to portray her characters. She makes you believe you’ve met them in person, and there are comments on matters that are ignored by the modern writers of the establishment. 

  The stories in this collection take place in Canada and the United States of America. The same characters are followed over time through a succession of tales. In doing this, she exposes the changes of the society in which they live. Some of the situations made me drown in laughter.

  Whether you like her main characters or not is not important because she kindles our empathy. There are many twists that render the read agile and adventurous.

 I will share Ursula Le Guin’s surreal description of “Stone Mattress”:

“Dances of the dark swamps of Horror on the wings of satirical wit… Look at these tales… as eight icily refreshing arsenic Popsicles followed by a baked Alaska laced with anthrax, all served with impeccable style and aplomb. Enjoy!”

“I” and My Mouth and Their Irresistible Life in Language

It is refreshing to read Susan Parenti’s poetry collection in this era of oppressive shallowness. Her poetry pokes fun at our ego-driven society and unfurls the layers of social hypocrisy and discrimination while it incites us to rejoice in the spirit of friendship and the glorious moments of everyday life. 
 She bolsters our confidence to speak up through the arts.

 Her verses are the voice of a free spirit who is not afraid of questioning the rigidity of social conventions. She asks questions and exposes the absurd side of reality, impelling us to revisit it from new perspectives and acknowledging that personal experience is our best teacher.

I will take the liberty to share one of her poems:

You think your luck will come in the form of a grant or award,

with successful prestigious people doing what they can do: confer prestige;

that your luck will wear the face of cameras, or dollar amounts, your name

on the door: Professor______ , your name in the newspapers, on people’s lips.

You think your luck will look these ways.

Thus you look around for your luck, and, not seeing the form you think it will take,

say, I have No Luck.

The picture, Der Niesen, by Klee, 1915, blue mountain and colored trees,

stands on the wall.

But your luck has taken other forms:

friends, parks in your neighborhood given to you as a legacy from

far-thinking predecessors, ideas, a group spirit, the ability to feel so

glad at reading a playful sentence, a talent at love.

Your luck sits in the room with you; you don’t notice.

Goes with you each day; you don’t recognize it.

Happy New Year

  Walt Whitman's poem "Song of Myself" was censored in the 1800s. I cannot help but wonder about the rigid mindset that banned this inspiring poem. It is now considered the ethos of the United States of America. “Song of Myself” is a celebration of diversity, equality, joy and life. In other words it is about love.

“I celebrate myself and sing myself, and what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you…

You can read the full poem here.

The battle between groupthink and original thinking

"ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR... THE CLOCK IN THE KITCHEN STRUCK... twelve. How irrelevantly, seeing that time had ceased to exist! The absurd importunate bell had sounded at the heart of a timelessly present Event, of a Now that changed incessantly in a dimension, not of seconds and minutes, but of beauty, of significance, of intensity, of deepening mystery."

Aldous Huxley, from his book "Island"

   Through his painting “The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory” Salvador Dali conveys the message that time does not restrict us. We can travel imaginatively and we can travel in space.

  I'm entranced by the power of Dali's originality, and I wonder about the enigmatic forces that inspired him.

  Dali escaped from World War II.

  In school he was tormented by bullies for being an independent thinker. He had to flee from his father. He was expelled from art school for refusing to acquiesce to the narrow-minded approach of his teachers. When he thought that the Surrealists were judging him and curbing his creative aspirations he did not allow them to rescind his originality: he divorced the Surrealists when he considered himself a Surrealist.

 Salvador Dali pushed groupthink aside to focus on his creative energy. He let go of those who tried to restrain the power of his imagination. Had he stayed with them he would not have painted his original masterpieces. Those who did not understand his vision accused him of being arrogant and greedy.

   One day Dali had hundreds of leaflets dropped from an airplane over New York. He called this his “Declaration of the Independence of the Imagination”.

 According to American standards Dali was a successful artist. It occurs to me, however, that if Salvador Dali had been a woman artist somebody would have slut-shamed her and her works would have been considered irrelevant.

  Ken Robinson's book "The Element" explains how groupthink leads people to conformity and even to mean behaviors that they would not choose without the influence of groupthink.

 "Being in your Element may depend on stepping out of the circle." Ken Robinson.

 Reading about groupthink reminds me of the story "The Artist at Work" by Albert Camus. This story reveals the journey of Albert Jonas, a man who followed his star and remained loyal to his true self.

  I propose the term “group-non-think” as a synonym of “groupthink”. It is self-explanatory.