Month: October 2019

James Blake – I’ll Come Too
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnN_iullRf8

I’ve thrown my hat in the ring
I’ve got nothing to lose
With you, with you, with you
I’m in that kind of mood

[Catching up! Because of deathly fever! Here’s a song! For Week 7!]

In thinking of Fan’s seemingly-irrational plunge into the void of the counties, the narrator(s) and B-Mor can’t help but theorize what is driving Fan. Fan, with stable work, a sound mind, and little idea of where Reg has left to, takes this leap of faith out into the wilderness. Reminded of Prof. Goffe’s invoking James Blake (I cannot remember exactly what song or what context), I remembered this song of his, which I found (still find) very, very, very sweet.

James Blake himself on the song: “It’s a real story: When you fall in love, the practical things go out the window, a little bit. And you just want to go to wherever they are.” I like to think that Fan’s utterance of “where you are” might have been, in some iteration, about Reg. With love, hope, and an endless drive, Fan is going to come too.

I chose “Who Knows Who Cares” by Local Natives after reading this week’s chapters of On Such a Full Sea. In Chapter 15, there is a sense that something incredibly dark is overtaking certain members of B-Mor in light of the lowered Charter demand for the facility’s goods. Members of the community are taking their own lives or spiraling into depressive episodes, like Gordon. Yet, despite this darkness, members seem to carry on without taking any action.

This song, although it sounds relatively happy and upbeat, talks about accepting that things are completely out of one’s hands. Things could change for the better at B-Mor or for the worse, but it seems that it is never really up to the facility’s citizens. The song also mentions water, which seems to be a critical–albeit incredibly dangerous and disruptive–part of this novel. The lyric goes: “You could let it down / Jump into the river baby / Easy as it sounds / It’s never quite as easily done /The current has us now, it’s okay / Take into account that it’s all about to change / Who knows, who cares”

I listened to this song a lot when I was in middle school, I guess I never really took notice of its lyrics, but I feel the words echo the atmosphere of B-Mor that Lee has constructed well.

I first started reading this novel over Fall Break. On the bus, I had listened to the audio book version in order to avoid getting car sick. After transitioning back into reading rather than listening to this novel, I have come to a completely different understanding of the story line.

Lee writes this novel such that there is no way to immediately determine if there is dialogue occurring between the characters, for example, with a scan of a page. There are especially gory and uncomfortable scenes within this second section as well, but it often took a second glance on my part for me to fully process the violence of the text. There is something so plain and unassuming with the way that Lee chooses to write this novel that makes it feel like, if you blink, you might miss something important.

Take, for example, the scene where Fan learns about how Quig’s family died. There is a gunman in the motel, and the Dutch father is trying to rationalize with him in hopes of saving his family’s lives. The Dutch man’s wife, however, thinks he is talking too much and tries to get him to stop talking. The text reads: “The gunman hollered at her and she insisted she was on his side, and he said, Shut up now! and she said, But really I am! and he said, No you’re not! and shot her point-blank in the chest, instantly killing her” (138).

Another scene that took my by surprise was when Fan realizes what the Nickelman family was planning to do with Quig and Loreen. “Oh god! Loreen cried miserably. We’re going to be their meat! We don’t eat meat, Loreen, Mrs. Nickelman gently corrected her. We never have and never will. But the dogs were silently poised, their maws slick and drooling, the muscles of their shoulders and hindquarters pulsing with anticipation” (153).

Both of these moments depict incredibly alarming, chilling events. Yet, each scene caught me by surprise, which made things even more gruesome. Lee does not choose to ease the reader into these violent parts, and the lack of separation signaling dialogue seems to push the reader right into the action, as if there is no beginning or end but rather just a continuous momentum of things. Before these scenes, there is some mysterious and “off” vibe about the new people Fan meets, but because of the continuous action Lee creates for the reader, there is not much  time to really investigate what the underlying nature of a new character may be until it is simply revealed. There is a sense of dread that Lee is able to build through writing in such a monotonous way, and I believe this style ultimately forces his readers to anticipate every sentence as if it contains important details for an impending disaster.

Aside from these unpleasant surprise/unforeseen moments in the novel, there were also certain moments in this section where I knew definitively something “wrong” was happening or about to happen. Take, for example, the images of young Asian girls Fan sees with Mala at Mister Leo’s home in the Charters town. Leading up to his attempt to rape Fan, I knew there was something wildly suspicious going on, especially after the unhappy character Miss Cathy was introduced.

I think it’s interesting that Lee chooses to switch between obvious tropes of a utopian land going wrong (Miss Cathy being completely unhappy but basically complicit in her husband’s affairs) and some less common archetypes/storylines, like the scene with the Nickleman family. This choice feels refreshing for a dystopian novel, and I appreciate that so many of its main characters are people of color, like Fan. I found myself thinking of all these novels I had read growing up, like the Hunger Games or 1984 where all the main characters are white. It’s interesting to think about this idea of who will populate the future and whether or not some people believe certain groups “deserve” the future more than others.

I know that was a lot, but I’ve really been enjoying this novel and hope my ideas are being conveyed coherently!

“The understanding, of course, is that we’ll never see this person again, that he or she will not return, even for a visit. For what good would that do? What lasting joy would it bring, to us or to them? Isn’t it better that we send them off once and for all beneath the glow of carnival lights, with the taste of treats on our tongues, rather than invite the acrid tang of doubt and undue longing, and the heart-stab of a freshly sundered bond? Isn’t it kinder to simply let them exit the gates, and for us to turn away too, and let our thoughts instead draft up on their triumphs to come?” – pg. 185

In this introduction to Liwei, Fan’s eldest brother, the reader learns that he was one of the lucky few B-Mor residents promoted into Charter life.

The customary celebrations that take place for this occasion are facility-wide, being one of the most vibrant public festivals in B-Mor. In this passage, the narrator ruminates on the significance of the B-Mor community convening in this way, sending the child off to a Charter village once and for all. By posing a series of rhetorical questions, the reader is allowed some insight into the emotional weight amidst the joyous festivities, a shared poignant acceptance that if mobility is unattainable for everyone else, at least one bright B-Mor clan member will have gone into a “better” future.

For them, it is a future utterly unforeseeable, and literally invisible save the “vids” and “pix” on their handscreens, yet it whispers all the promises of upper-class living. From the insides of the labor settlement, the hopes of Liwei’s clan are only ensured by the invisible ties that maintain economical flows, and a strict class hierarchy between B-Mor and Charter villages. As the narrator questions the reader to consider the implications of this ritual from the perspective of Liwei’s clan members, there seems to be the underlying invitation to doubt, the suggestion that any freedoms of uncertainty and suspicion on part of the residents have been reigned in and managed by capitalist forces.

In the meantime, the rest of B-Mor rationalizes that there is no time or practicality in sentimental longing beyond Liwei’s point of departure. “Isn’t it kinder to simply let them exit the gates, and for us to turn away too, and let our thoughts instead draft up on their triumphs to come?” The celebration is somewhat similar to a funeral, in that there is a common understanding that a permanent wall of life / death will be set between Liwei and everyone he knew in B-Mor. In thinking of the best in terms of labor and congruity, the reader can infer this tightly operated infrastructure of the B-Mor community— they come to accept their fate as is designated, and the pressures for productivity remain just so, a constant in the minds and bodies of the laborers.

You Know” – Jaurim

“You know, yesterday the wind

was so nice I just went for a walk

You know, at that time there was something

forgotten, that I couldn’t put into words

 

You know, yesterday the sky

was so blue I just cried

You know, I’m telling you this now

but back then we didn’t know

If it rains tomorrow,

we’ll get wet with rain

we’ll get wet with rain

If the world ends tomorrow,

we’ll greet the end

we’ll greet the end

You know, all day today

we wait for something

we wait for something

You know, today unwittingly

I abandon myself

I abandon myself”

 

In “On Such a Full Sea”, Fan travels a long way from her home B-Mor, traveling through the unfamiliar Smokes, and now entering the gated Charter territory.

As she struggles to survive and continue towards her destination of finding Reg, Fan moves with a sense of purpose and singular aim. At some points, she questions where her drive to leave B-Mor really comes from— as in the lyrics to this song, “you know, at that time there was something forgotten, that I couldn’t put into words.” Yet, her conviction becomes stronger as she goes deeper into the beyond. The matter-of-fact phrasings of this song mixed with a sense of longing seems close in nature to the way Fan accepts the difficult obstacles encountered, barely hesitating to move with the flow of dangers and threatening circumstances (“if the world ends tomorrow, we’ll greet the end/ we’ll greet the end”, “if it rains tomorrow, we’ll get wet with rain/ we’ll get wet with rain”), in order to see her goals through.

Doing this one a week late thanks to a fever that lasted through Fall Break. I am enjoying this book though! Ok!!! Here we go!!!!!!

Page 81-82, On Such A Full Sea

“But do you realize how difficult it is to grow fruits and vegetables outside? Uncle Kellen said to us. We forget about how ideally engineered our grow facilities are. No pests or bad weather. Uncontaminated, nutrient-rich media. And all of you now trained from an early age in the techniques of maximized production. It is only natural for you to believe that we have achieved mastery.
And you believe we haven’t, Uncle?
He snorted, snacking on his peanuts, being quiet in the way he often was, not quite responding to our questions, clearly not for lack of views but because he wanted us to formulate our own opinions rather than automatically inscribe ourselves with his, which we would have done, immediately, happily.
That’s not what’s important, he said.”

This instance of Uncle Kellen’s “talk story”, stemming from the previous pages, gradually reveals details about B-Mor’s various histories through back and forth conversation between Uncle Kellen and the narrator(s), then children. Though the children remain fairly dismissive of the “natives” or maintain firm belief in the “originals” and their superior ability to survive, this brief passage – its larger context, the historical narratives it shares, and questions and failures it raises – reveals the unraveling stability of the narrator(s) and B-Mor.

As gradually revealed throughout the novel, native citizens of B-Mor were still surviving, though under the constant pressure of debt economies, heavy policing, and overall state neglect. This precarious situation, an ongoing struggle for self-determination, found itself in direct conflict with the “originals” arriving from New China – people essentially brought as labour to displace natives, who accordingly received the kinds of resources for survival and growth.

Uncle Kellen’s dig at how B-Mor residents are taught “techniques of maximized production” undergirds the growing feeling of B-Mor’s purpose as purely productive, transactional. The listless-but-content life that residents lead appears full of satisfaction; that B-Mor is mostly work and routine – a kind of safety – is largely accepted and goes unquestioned. To Uncle Kellen, “mastery” is a false narrative. Any sort of supposed “mastery” has been supported by larger political and economic structures which required New China labourers to fulfill a need for production. Supposed mastery over a stolen land is crucial to maintaining the settler myth of native non-existence or native ineptitude, which the children (and larger population of B-Mor) clearly embody.

The writing style – marked by the gradually developing consciousness of the the narrator(s), who recalls these anecdotes and incidents of B-Mor alongside Fan’s story – poses questions, cracks, and slippages in the seemingly secure world of B-Mor. As the novel progresses, B-Mor’s stability gradually falters, as basic services and other resources begin to dwindle, as the members who make up the community begin to struggle and fall apart, and as these patterns all become more apparent. Uncle Kellen himself disappears with his wife, a troubling mystery leaving more questions than answers. What would it mean that the “originals” were forces of violent displacement, that their “mastery” was the result of intentional investment not given to native citizens of B-Mor? How might B-Mor merely be a production plant, a mass labour force, subject to the whims of larger systems of capital? How might the potential of upwards mobility be a false promise, a method of control? How is a “self made”, stable, secure B-Mor a myth?

“For Reg, the rumor goes, was C-free” (74).

“There’s no record of further mixing for the Jangs, just an extensive linking during those early years with the Xi clan of Shining Tomorrow Road, but there are inevitable jokes and snickerings about certain undiluted features that show up in every generation of the clan, like Reg’s amazing head of Afro-type hair. Which clearly derive from that Willis girl” (76).

“Is it his minuscule inflammation fact, several deviations below the mean? Is it his particular fusion of original and native blood? The fact that he eschews alcohol? Spicy foods? Or is it the discovery, when the caterers took in the dishes, that the young man did not touch the fish” (118). 

In this section of the book we learn that Reg is Chinese and Black (and perhaps indigenous as well). Additionally, and quite notably, we are told that Reg is the only person alive that’s C-free. The narrator tells us that everyone eventually becomes sick with a blood disease ominously named C. And this sickness is described to us in haunting terms: “Our tainted world looms within us, every one” (75). We are told later when Reg is being tested in Charters facilities that he does not eat the fish from B-Mor. And so it seems that the origin of the disease might be located in the fish. In other words, the very thing that is life giving and economically generative might be killing people. By looking at the selections above, I suggest Chang-Rae Lee is making a commentary on capitalism as a destructive force and multiracialism as a future building mechanism.

We began discussing this in class, but I would like to raise the question again: what do fish and water signify in this book? While fish are a major source of economic prosperity in B-Mor, it might also be making them and everyone else eating the fish sick. In this moment, I’m understanding this motif of water/fish as a commentary on global capitalism. While there are immediate benefits and spoils to be gained from capitalism, it comes at a hefty price. We sacrifice our health, our planet, and any hopes for equality (particularly in this grim dystopian future) to continue the legacy of capitalism. The fish here seem to signify this fantastical understanding of capitalism as amazing and life-giving, wherein in reality it’s poisonous. 

As I was reading the excerpt I posted on page 118, I was reminded of a conversation we had in class. Professor Goffe asked if having multiracial babies is the only way to make the world more equitable. As a class we seemed to agree that the answer is no, but we might consider multiracial children as one of many mechanisms for future building. I understand Reg’s multiracialism as doing similar work here. Chang Rae-Lee is showing us one of the many ways we might imagine futures devoid of the C disease, which we might understand as a future free of capitalism and destructive hierarchies. 

I chose punk rock band Rise Against’s song “Endgame” from the album of the same name for its opening stanza, which is “And on that day they’ll tell you / That life hung on with no clue / The warning signs were all just missed or shattered down / So it goes / The kings all failed to tell us / The madmen failed to sell us / Of what would then befall the only life we know.” This, along with the energy of the song, reminds me of the different decisions that Fan has to make in part 2 of the book, coupled with a background of coming collapse.

So the first song I chose is “SUMMER” by The Carters. It’s a song about love and water, themes presented in the novel. The beat almost transports you into a different time and place… like if you closed your eyes and opened them you would be somewhere else. They also sing in the “we” perspective, a tactic Chang-Rae Lee uses in his novel for the community of B-Mor. “We never been this far from the shore/ We might not ever go back anymore.” The song reads like a legend, similar to the novel. Fan leaves for her love and might never return. This story parallels well with the song.

I chose this song because it kind of felt like the novel when I was reading it… This song really pulls me into an almost fantasy world, but one that’s kind of pulled down with some darkness. It’s complex with many details, similar to Chang Rae-Lee’s writing. The title translates to “A Boat on the Ocean”. When boats sail, they move and experience a journey. That’s what this novel is about… Fan leaving B-Mor in search of Reg. Something about this song has a mysterious or haunting element to this book, a theme which perfectly fits the dystopia Lee has painted.