2.28.2005
octavia e. butler's imago
this week's book was imago, the conclusion to octavia e. butler's xenogenesis series (also known as lilith's brood).
it's tough to describe these books without making them sound like garden-variety, sci-fi dork stuff. there are aliens... there are humans... they take place-- following a nuclear war-- in an alien reconstruction of pre-industrial earth... all of which might turn off 40% of the folks who bother to read this journal (and perhaps turn-on the rest, hahahaha). but focusing on such details gives you no indication of what a nuanced writer butler is, or the magnitude of the world she creates. what begins as a garden-variety distopia emerges as a fine-tuned, infinitely evocative investigation of power, identity and assimilation.
as i've said before, her writing is not strictly allegorical, either. science fiction is no mere catalyst. lilith's brood is a fun and entertaining story, albeit a disturbing one. the mix of genre, psychology and, uh, "speculative" anthropology is not hierarchical. the narrative is not something to move beyond, and its implications are no mere afterthought.
imago is the story of jodahs, a shape-shifting, genderless extraterrestrial who thrives on symbiotic unions with, and subsequent manipulations of, other species and lifeforms. the aliens in the trilogy's universe exist only to co-exist; they must physically assimilate the attributes of another species, as well as maximize their genetic productivity through the permanent alteration of their chosen subjects. butler's alien is a parasite as well as a remedy. a being that can make a human grow back an amputated leg, for example-- but not without making him/her a little less human in the process. jodahs is an "ooloi," the most powerful, and least "human," manifestation of its people. it is also the first ooloi borne to a human mother (one of several parents) and is therefore dangerous and potentially unpredictable.
butler's uncanny realism results from her unwillingness to resort to pro/antagonist binary modalities. her universe is infinitely perspectival; each character-- each element even-- is afforded the respect of a flawed singularity. as a result, there are no heroes or villians to be found. accordingly, she increasingly pushes the boundaries of potential empathy, forcing the reader to consider stranger and stranger subjective viewpoints. like a good sci-fi writer, she carries one's brain further and further into the cosmos.
imago may well be my favorite of the trilogy because of its strict focus on its central character. throughout the books, the oolois are always the most eerie and difficult element. they are caring and needy and manipulative. they provide for their human "mates" a physical ecstasy that is equal parts sexual and psychedelic (i swear to you this is not as dorky as it sounds). and jodahs is no exception. the book chronicles its entry into adulthood, and the stakes of its engagement with human mates along the way.
butler gives intense, refreshingly contemplative consideration to the relationship between care and control in her subjects. and she manages to do so in a way that is accessible enough to be of value to a reader. it is easy-- though not entirely neccessary-- to draw parallels between the fears, needs and pre-conceptions of her characters to those of a personal romance, family or community. i am reminded, for example, of the often-unmentioned superficial dimension of relationships-- how physical attributes often constitute the attractive/repulsive element that leads to an engagement-- erotic or otherwise. butler is cool enough to lay bare certain bitter pills of cultural predjudice, but there is no detachment in her analysis. with no assumption of objectivity, her results remain sufficently "embedded" on an emotional level to avoid descension into fatalistic banality.
as a document avoiding knee-jerk, pedantic allegory-- without sacrificing legitimate socio-political contemplation, butler's trilogy is genuinely, artistically inspiring (and OH HOW RARELY will i use a word as awful as "inspiring"). in addition, the act of visualizing the world she creates-- the jungle-like post-earth, the abject-erotic "sensory tentacles" of an ooloi, and so forth-- adds an additional aesthetic dimension to the novels. in this sense, it is a refreshingly informative read for a visual artist. i emerge from the novels not only with a greater sense of my stake in daily engagements, but also with a new understanding of the very imagery that might constitute such engagements. butler's xenogenesis books have effectively amounted to an experience i will never forget.
it's tough to describe these books without making them sound like garden-variety, sci-fi dork stuff. there are aliens... there are humans... they take place-- following a nuclear war-- in an alien reconstruction of pre-industrial earth... all of which might turn off 40% of the folks who bother to read this journal (and perhaps turn-on the rest, hahahaha). but focusing on such details gives you no indication of what a nuanced writer butler is, or the magnitude of the world she creates. what begins as a garden-variety distopia emerges as a fine-tuned, infinitely evocative investigation of power, identity and assimilation.
as i've said before, her writing is not strictly allegorical, either. science fiction is no mere catalyst. lilith's brood is a fun and entertaining story, albeit a disturbing one. the mix of genre, psychology and, uh, "speculative" anthropology is not hierarchical. the narrative is not something to move beyond, and its implications are no mere afterthought.
imago is the story of jodahs, a shape-shifting, genderless extraterrestrial who thrives on symbiotic unions with, and subsequent manipulations of, other species and lifeforms. the aliens in the trilogy's universe exist only to co-exist; they must physically assimilate the attributes of another species, as well as maximize their genetic productivity through the permanent alteration of their chosen subjects. butler's alien is a parasite as well as a remedy. a being that can make a human grow back an amputated leg, for example-- but not without making him/her a little less human in the process. jodahs is an "ooloi," the most powerful, and least "human," manifestation of its people. it is also the first ooloi borne to a human mother (one of several parents) and is therefore dangerous and potentially unpredictable.
butler's uncanny realism results from her unwillingness to resort to pro/antagonist binary modalities. her universe is infinitely perspectival; each character-- each element even-- is afforded the respect of a flawed singularity. as a result, there are no heroes or villians to be found. accordingly, she increasingly pushes the boundaries of potential empathy, forcing the reader to consider stranger and stranger subjective viewpoints. like a good sci-fi writer, she carries one's brain further and further into the cosmos.
imago may well be my favorite of the trilogy because of its strict focus on its central character. throughout the books, the oolois are always the most eerie and difficult element. they are caring and needy and manipulative. they provide for their human "mates" a physical ecstasy that is equal parts sexual and psychedelic (i swear to you this is not as dorky as it sounds). and jodahs is no exception. the book chronicles its entry into adulthood, and the stakes of its engagement with human mates along the way.
butler gives intense, refreshingly contemplative consideration to the relationship between care and control in her subjects. and she manages to do so in a way that is accessible enough to be of value to a reader. it is easy-- though not entirely neccessary-- to draw parallels between the fears, needs and pre-conceptions of her characters to those of a personal romance, family or community. i am reminded, for example, of the often-unmentioned superficial dimension of relationships-- how physical attributes often constitute the attractive/repulsive element that leads to an engagement-- erotic or otherwise. butler is cool enough to lay bare certain bitter pills of cultural predjudice, but there is no detachment in her analysis. with no assumption of objectivity, her results remain sufficently "embedded" on an emotional level to avoid descension into fatalistic banality.
as a document avoiding knee-jerk, pedantic allegory-- without sacrificing legitimate socio-political contemplation, butler's trilogy is genuinely, artistically inspiring (and OH HOW RARELY will i use a word as awful as "inspiring"). in addition, the act of visualizing the world she creates-- the jungle-like post-earth, the abject-erotic "sensory tentacles" of an ooloi, and so forth-- adds an additional aesthetic dimension to the novels. in this sense, it is a refreshingly informative read for a visual artist. i emerge from the novels not only with a greater sense of my stake in daily engagements, but also with a new understanding of the very imagery that might constitute such engagements. butler's xenogenesis books have effectively amounted to an experience i will never forget.
