That which we call a wall by any other name would still keep people out
Posted by: Kyle Davidson in coursework, tags: The DispossessedI suppose I should preface this post by saying that this topic has nothing to do with my E4 or my intended E5. For both of those, I’m using the concept of suffering as it applies to the novel and to our lives. However, while I was reading the last few pages of the novel, a thought suddenly sprung into my mind: hadn’t the Anarresti built just as many walls as the Urresti?
In the beginning of the book, Le Guin begins with the simple phrase “There was a wall” (Le Guin, 1). It is implied further by the next few pages that this is the only wall on the planet and that the people that had gathered to watch the freighter Mindful take off hadn’t had experiences with other physical walls. However, it should be noted that Le Guin doesn’t say “the wall”, but “a wall.” This intentional phrasing implies that walls are not as foreign of a concept to the Anarresti as the reader might initially think. But if this was the case, what were these additional walls?
As I said, the existence of other walls jumped out at me as I was reading the final chapter. As Shevek was talking to the first officer Ketho, he describes how the Anarresti knew of the Hainish existence but they still didn’t attempt to make contact with them because “‘[their managers] were just building more walls’” (Le Guin, 384). Le Guin makes it clear that the people who were in charge (who weren’t really “in charge” because no one is accountable to any particular person on Anarres) frowned upon communication with other species because Odonians were supposed to be self-sustaining.
While these ideas of isolation and self-sustentation may seem like somewhat plausible excuses, the Terms of Settlement seem to come into direct contradiction of Odonian principles. Based on the terms, no Urrasti were ever to be allowed off the ships, no contact was ever allowed between the two planets, and there was never to be mixing between the races. However, if someone should want to become an Odonian, why should they not be allowed to? This additional wall put up by the Odonians pushed them past the seclusion that was initially desired in order for the settlers to be self-sustainable. They had progressed to a point where the walls were an essential part of what defined being a member of this exclusive, Odonian group.
When it is all said and done, I only have a few questions left that I can’t quite answer. How could a race of people that avoided the creation of physical walls allow other metaphorical walls to be built without seeing the direct conflict in ideology? Is there a way to salvage Anarres and return it to its true anarchist state, or is Shevek right in deciding that perhaps he and his followers need to move to yet another remote region to restart the true anarchistic colony? And finally (sorry Hunter), can either of these two planets be considered a true utopia? Can we even say that a faction of either of the planets is utopian?
P.S.- Sorry for the cheesy Shakespeare play on words. I couldn’t resist.
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February 16th, 2010 at 8:23 pm
Kyle, I liked your Shakespeare play on words, but I am going to counter it with a sickeningly sweet, stereotypic facebook quote I found on my friend’s status the other day:
“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.”
Annares, while in complete upheaval towards the end of the novel, has finally become the anarchy Odo wished it to be. While I would not give the Annaresti enough credit to say that they built barriers with the subconscious knowledge that a true Odonian would rise to break them down, I definitely think Le Guin is a strong proponent of Annaresti society and, judging by the Shevek’s interactions with the ambassadors, would desire for a free-thinking, free-choice situation.
Annares is not represented as a Utopia, however, until these very last pages of the novel. Even Shevek is not considered a “true Odonian” until the final chapter of the novel. Throughout his time on Urras, he seems conflicted, out-of-place, and confused to what is the “correct” way of life. After becoming the original dissenter, though, after taking the initiative to cause a true stir, I feel like Shevek does indeed bring the Odonian philosophies to fruition on Annares. While in prior years the people strove to live in accordance with others, sacrificing everything for the brotherhood and even following the societal “rules” and constructs that went against Odo’s essential tenets, Shevek’s breach of these “walls” and Takver’s undying faith that he will return demonstrate the onset of true Odonianism. While the book ends before we learn of Shevek’s fate upon return, I feel Le Guin leaves the reader with the assurance that the awakened, individualistic society, even if agitated, has become the utopia it was meant to be.
I may be taking a too idyllic approach to this, but I really feel that to break away from propertarianism for good, it was not enough for the Annaresti to make their own settlement and language. Since the Urrasti “gave” them the moon, that indicates ownership, and only an upheaval from within, true anarchy against themselves, would result in the freeing of man, woman, and Odonian philosophy. As Confucius said, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” Shevek, choosing to come both leave Annares and awaken the spirit of his brothers and sisters, takes this initial step and embodies a true Odonian philosophy–”True voyage is return.” Shevek left a dystopia, but it may be assumed that the planet he came back too will forever more embrace the importance of revolutionary, individual freedom, and untethered thought.
February 16th, 2010 at 9:14 pm
Haley, that’s a very interesting spin on that. I actually really liked it. But to play devil’s advocate, isn’t it just as likely that Shevek has become like the colonial Anarres and that the Anarres of Shevek’s time has become similar to Urras by means of intolerance? Based on my read of the novel, the major goal is a constantly changing society that doesn’t become complacent with one set way of leading. Becoming content with the status quo means ultimately corruption (which has unintentionally developed on Anarres). I’d agree that Shevek is on the right path to restoring the utopia that once was Anarres, but the whole world is not there yet. Perhaps this constant trial and error is what makes this “an ambiguous utopia” as Le Guin puts it, but I personally find it hard to see through this cloud of ambiguity.
February 17th, 2010 at 12:55 am
Kyle,
I agree with your response to Hailey. I believe that Shevek is on the path to restoring Anarres back to a utopia. Striving to hard to create a perfect society, coincidentally caused it to become the opposite of a utopia. If there are people, like Takvar, who are ever unhappy with aspects of a “utopian” society, then I don’t think that the community is truly perfect. One imperfection takes away from the society therefore creating a non utopia. Anarres was originally created to follow the Odonian way which was supposed to lead to a utopia. It strayed, and now people, like Shevek, are realizing it. I never really thought about this until reading your blog post and I find this very interesting. I thought that neither Anarres or Urras was a utopia and that both were, somewhat, irreversible. Seeing Shevek trying to change Anarres, slowly but surely, shines a new light on the utopia to come.
February 17th, 2010 at 2:35 am
After reading Hailey’s post about Shevek’s role to rejuvenate Odonian society I got started thinking about the pattern of “revolution” that Le Guin is proposing and its implications. The novel gives a model in which a society begins as a utopian ideal, decays, and then experiences a revolution amongst its population. Two iteration of this are provided: the first on Urras and the second on Annares. In other words, Le Guin is saying that every so often civilization will degrade into some dystopic monstrosity, and an Odo or Shevek will come along a lead the chosen few back into enlightenment. Thus is follows that Shevek’s society will, in time, experience the same follies of those that preceded it. This pattern is certainly not too revolutionary, as it follows with the whole theme that a utopia must be dynamic to achieve its goals. However, Kyle’s comment about Shevek becoming colonial Annares sparked my interest. Urras and Annares may be “sister” civilizations, but there is no argument that one is much bigger than the other. Also, I think it a logical assumption that given every “revolution” there will be a number of individuals who, like those on Urras, choose not to play along. Thus, what are the implications when, after a number of years, a proportion of the population on Annares has join Urras in living in a pseudo-utopia? In my eyes, this creates a diabolical mathematical model of civilization, especially if you accept the critical condition (one that is implied in the novel) that the rate at which people become truly Odonian is less then the rate at which they become truly odious. Of course, this predicts that some day there will be no revolutionaries left. A more elegant (and cooler) model of utopian thought can be created if we take a leap further and assume that once someone has passed through a round of utopian revolution and decided not to revolt, they will not change their mind the next time around. This can then be related to things in mathematics like infinite geometric series and fractals, one of which provides a great example of what I’m talking about: (Wikipedia: Sierpinski Triangle http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/74/Animated_construction_of_Sierpinski_Triangle.gif). Imagine that red represents true utopia, and black represents everything else. Notice how even though the black only takes the minority of the red area in each iteration, the triangle quickly fades to nothing. The area of the Sierpinski Triangle is zero (cool), which is exactly the number of Utopia’s left in the universe if civilization follows the model laid out by Le Guin (not so cool?)
February 17th, 2010 at 2:38 am
The link is http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Animated_construction_of_Sierpinski_Triangle.gif
February 17th, 2010 at 3:37 am
The novel’s prevalent symbol had hindered much of the fulfillment of Odonianism in Anarres. As Kyle has mentioned, Anarresti isolation contradicts aspects of Odonian philosophy, and with this flaw, may have contributed the creation of a “non-utopia.” The walls seem to represent fear of total, radical change; the last bits of inhibition that the Anarresti refused to acknowledge or to allow to completely bear fruit. Anarchy in theory sounds marvelous, but in actual practice, it can get messy; there’s chaos present in Anarres by the end of the book, but anarchy has finally been fulfilled, reached. Before that, “a wall”– the assumption of the existence of many walls is prompted–hampered “free-thinking, free-choice,” anything revolutionary to current circumstances, politics, and what else is in between.
Final acceptance of the revolution truly allowed Anarres to become more utopian in the eyes of Shevek and others, yet, I still feel as though such idealized notions of “a perfect world” can only be mere illusions, theorized eloquently but can never be truly realized. Maybe it’s the cynic in me speaking for itself, but perfection is nonexistent; there will still be “problems” in Anarres. Michael notes that there are individuals who choose not to follow “the true Odonian way,” and may join Urrasti because of lacking empathy. Would that deepen the conflict between the two planets, assuming that the contact between the two is still instilled? Or will be left unsatisfied?