Fictional Humans
Kindred’s a book
you don’t have to put down. It reads like a movie; it holds your attention.
Octavia Butler does a splendid job of teaching readers about the past through
an excitement-packed story. However there were times when the characters felt unreal.
At times I could not believe a person would respond to a situation in the way
the characters did. There is an inevitable shortcoming to all stories that
exist outside of an author’s realm of experience.
I know this book was focused on the historical aspects—what happened
to people, the terrible treatment and corrupting influence of an environment.
The story was meant to expose the intricacies of the tragedy that is often
glazed over in history books—it forces us to acknowledge the first hand
injustice of splitting up families and dehumanizing people, raising children
with no hope of their own future. The book’s probably not about what an
environment like that can do to a person. However, I wish it was. I had high
hopes for when Kevin got trapped in the past for five years. Surely five years would affect a person, make
them crumble eventually and assimilate. Not Kevin, though…five years and he did
exactly what all of us think we would
do in his situation, a white man from the future that’s been taught equality.
He helped free slaves and kept a steady spirit and held on to faith that Dana
would come get him. After five years the
biggest marks on him were a little writer’s block and a temporary fear of
driving. How many people in the world actually have the strength and resolve to
maintain their identity in that kind of situation? I don’t know, maybe a lot,
but not me. I tried to imagine myself in Kevin’s shoes. He must have gone
through crippling loneliness. Five years, and no record of him making
meaningful connections. How could he? He was on guard to leave at any moment.
He was tempted to buy a farm at some point, but amazingly he still had hope. He
didn’t even know if Dana would come back, or how long she would be gone. He was
trapped in a foreign world without the skills to survive in it, and yet he did.
I think I would have lost hope. How can a person stand to be that lonely? Dana
and Kevin are both unbelievably adaptable.
The most believable character of the story was Rufus. His
childhood was tragically dysfunctional—a dad who gave him none of the affection
a kid needs, and a submissive mom who gave him everything he wanted, which is
arguably a worse abuse. As a result, he turned into exactly what we’d expect
from the way he was raised--unable to hack acceptable relationships, never
learning to give, and as a result becoming more frustratingly lonely each day.
Out of desperateness, he tries to force people to stay with him. All that does
is push them away, and in the end, it’s what kills him. In the final few
scenes, Dana describes Rufus “sorry and lonely and wanting me to take the place
of the dead” (259). He acts from his feelings and his experience, just like a person
would be expected to do. I got the sense that Butler related to Rufus in some
ways, and that made him more real than Dana and Kevin ever seemed.
It’s impossible to get people right in stories like these
because their experiences are beyond our understanding. I wish we could have
gotten in Dana’s and Kevin’s minds, seen their hopelessness and helplessness
described, and felt with them, but there’s no way of knowing how they would
have felt. That’s the wistful disappointment of anything other than autobiography,
I guess.
I feel like this doesn't quite give Kevin credit for the trauma we do see in him–he's left scarred by his 5 years in the 1800s, and we don't get enough interaction between him and Dana in the present to see what's really happened to him. We do know that he ends up with Tom Weylin's eyes, and that he seems to have suffered quite a lot in his time in the 1800s.
ReplyDeleteThere is that gash of a scar across Kevin's forehead--what must have happened to result in *that*?--and he never talks about it. I agree that there is some missed opportunity with Kevin's story as we don't hear a lot of detail about what he's been through. We know he initially took part in the Underground Railroad and almost lost his life at the hands of a lynch mob as a result, but Butler doesn't quite make him into this idealized saint of a hero. He flees the South for the North, and seems to keep moving farther North, as if to get as far from slavery as possible. We don't know what he's been doing in those Northern states, but there's no indication that he's volunteered with Abolitionist organizations or anything. Maybe he did, but he doesn't talk about it. We could read him as having *tried* to be heroic before fleeing for his life and hiding out the rest of the time, deliberately living in a geographic context that wouldn't force him to take sides. He could be viewed as evading the miasma of slavery as much as anything else--a failure of courage, a refusal to try to make change. Butler leaves his story pretty wide-open in this sense.
ReplyDeleteI do think that there was a lot about Kevin that we didn't see after he returned from the slavery era. I thought Butler was going to give more details about him and the effects that spending five years had on him, but it ended with just that small bit of the chapter after he came back, as you said. While the book is definitely more focused on Dana and her journey, I'd hoped that there was more elaboration on Kevin and his experience, as he did technically spend more time in the slavery era than Dana did.
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