the book club: May 2008 Archives

The second volume in Octavia E. Butler's classic series on the Human Contradiction refers to coming-of-age. Everything about the series has been either nurturing or thought-provoking as I live an intervention within my family. Near the conclusion of the first book (Dawn), the human protagonist insists that the alien Oankali give her a taste (p. 226) of their expansive perception - what, she wants to know, is death to them?

It gave her . . . a new color. A totally alien, unique, nameless thing, half seen, half felt or . . . tasted. A blaze of something frightening, yet overwhelming, compelling.
Extinguished.
A half known mystery beautiful and complex. A deep, impossibly sensuous promise.
Broken.
Gone.
Dead.

I was asked a few times over the past week and a half if I had a plan. No, not more than hopeful intention seeking openings. "My perception isn't what it will be eventually." (p. 501)

Even if Humans lack the extraordinary multidimensional perception of the Oankali, I still believe we are more connected, more collective, than we usually acknowledge. I can align myself with "Akin...[who] had learned an important lesson: he would share any pain he caused. Best, then, to be careful and not cause pain . . . . he shifted his attention from the frustration of what he could not perceive to the fascination of what he could find." (p. 257)

What are the things I find, the things I perceive? I yearn for Akin's Oankali perception: "[Akin] investigated the DNA that made up the genes, the nucleotides of the DNA. There was something beyond the nucleotides that he could not perceive - a world of smaller particles that he could not cross into. He did not understand why he could not make this final crossing - if it were the final one....he came to think of it as a horizon, always receding when he approached it." (p. 257) But I also know my own horizon in/within/of communication - the ways we talk with, to, and about each other; the words and phrases of daily interaction; the patterns of meaning we weave together, reinforcing them with regular repetition and resisting the unknown new relationships that change might bring.

I suppose it is fantastic to imagine that I sense the ways we co-create each other - how your actions toward or against me invoke my actions about/involving you. My intellect (such as it is) could be reducible to the years of marijuana-induced sensory thought bleeding over, somehow, into the regular firing of neurons in the cognitive structure of my mind. My personal hypothesis is that the pot-smoking era of my youth showed my brain another way to function, but it has taken years of intensive effort to develop the particular pathways that constitute my contemporary mode of thinking. I had to, first, gain a window of perception onto myself from the outside; second, evaluate myself through the juxtaposition of my internal sense-of-self with the projections other people give back to me about myself; third, recognize the elements that could be changed; fourth, learn more about so many things .... the coursework in Communication has provided me with the conceptual tools to understand the ramifications of different skill sets and ethical commitments.

There is an intimacy humans share that we tend not to acknowledge beyond a recognizable preference for similarity and the politics of identity. We - each "one" of us - are inextricably bound to groups. Even if we are not with the people who compose these groups - be it the family who raised us, the friends who embrace us, or the demographic groups we align with and/or are stereotyped into by others. Even hermits are defined as such by their (lack of) relationship with others. Despite an adolescent embrace of Simon and Garfunkel, none of us is irrevocably alone.

"...just for an instant, they showed him, brought him into that incredible unity. He could not even manage terror until the moment had ended. How did they not lose themselves? How was it possible to break apart again? It was as though two containers of water had been poured together, then separated - each molecule was returned to its original container." (p. 454)

Emotions are treasure; and they are supremely dangerous. Akin's terror at group merger is dismissed: "The Akjai responded. Even at your stage of growth, Eka, you can perceive molecules. We perceive subatomic particles. Making and breaking this contact is no more difficult for us than clasping and releasing hands is for Humans." (p. 454) What if we accept the evidence of chemistry, biology, and especially physics - shaking hands is not only a moment of skin-to-skin contact: it is an instance of literal interaction. So many people discouraged me from this endeavor. So much fear that "it won't work" or that "things could get worse" - so easily do we accept awful situations, convincing ourselves that slow, inexorable dying is preferable to bursts of engaged life and presence.

Is this a competition? I dearly hope not. I have been un-whole for so long, bereft of those most-loved. I want my family to take part in calling me and each other into new being. Still, Butler's incisive insight cautions, because everywhere one looks, there it is:

"The Human Contradiction again. The Contradiction, it was more often called among the Oankali. Intelligence and hierarchical behavior. It was fascinating, seductive, and lethal. It had brought Humans to their final war." (p. 442)

"[The Oankali say] that you can't grow out of it, can't resolve it in favor of intelligence. That hierarchical behavior selects for hierarchical behavior, whether it should or not. That not even Mars will be enough of a challenge to change you." He paused. "That to give you a new world and let you procreate again would . . . would be like breeding intelligent beings for the solve purpose of having them kill one another."

"That wouldn't be our purpose," she protested.

He thought about that for a moment, wondered what he should say. The truth or nothing. The truth. "Yori, Human purpose isn't what you say it is or what I say it is. It's what your biology says it is - what your genes say it is."

"Do you believe that?"

" . . . yes."

"Then why - [help?]"

"Chance exists. Mutation. Unexpected effects of the new environment. Things no one has thought of." (p. 501-502)

Note:
Book One: Dawn
Book Three: Imago

George Lakoff's important book, Moral Politics, describes the root metaphor at the base of conservative and liberal worldviews. "Cognitive studies," Lakoff explains, have concluded "that moral thinking is imaginative and that it depends fundamentally on metaphorical thinking" (p. 41). The explanatory metaphor for both conservatives and liberals extends a notion of the family/parent to the nation/government. "The resulting moral systems, put together out of the same elements, but in different order, are radically opposed" (p. 35).

One of the interesting challenges of Lakoff's book (i.e., another finding of cognitive science) is the myth of being conscious of one's own worldview, and "that all one has to do to find out about people's views of the world is to ask them" (36). Lakoff describes realizing the myth of transparent belief as "the most fundamental result of cognitive science" (p. 36).

"What people will tell you about their worldview does not necessarily accurately reflect how they reason, how they categorize, how they speak, and how they act" (p. 36).

Lakoff is careful not to tell us what our politics or our morality should be; he is not preaching or giving a prescription. Instead, he is describing the two logics composing the deep split in political thinking between conservatives and liberals in the United States. This is not philosophy; this is description. It is up to us to understand the descriptions and then figure out how to talk and reason based on the reality of these starkly different moralities.

"Our public discourse about the nature of morality and its relation to politics [is] sadly impoverished. We must find a way to talk about alternative moral systems and how they give rise to alternative forms of politics. Journalists - including the most intelligent and insightful of journalists - have been at a loss. They have to rely on existing forms of public discourse, and since those forms are not adequate to the task, even the most thoughtful and honest journalists need help. Public discourse has to be enriched so that the media can do its job better." (2nd edition, 2002, p. 32)

Lakoff goes much further and deeper than merely slapping labels on certain brands of politics. "Classification in itself," writes Lakoff, "is relatively boring" (p. 17). What we need - what Lakoff provides - are models. Models do much more than mere categorization, they

• analyze modes of reasoning
• show how modes of reasoning about different issues fit together
• show how different forms of reasoning are related to each in other in such a way that they are all understood to be instances of the same thing (in this case, politics)
• show links between forms of political reasoning and forms of moral reasoning
• show how moral reasoning in politics is ultimately based on models of the family

Lakoff's hope - and mine in reading his book and trying to understand the basic point - is that by understanding how our minds work, and especially how our words give clues to how our minds work we can address political dilemmas more effectively.

"The same mind that we study for scientific reasons creates moral and political systems of thought and uses them every day. For this reason, the findings of conceptual systems research will eventually come to matter more and more in understanding moral and political life" (p. 17).

Jose was in town for graduation. Yes, that's Dr. Jose.

Several folk did, in fact, gather in his honor. Stories were told, memories recounted, teasing ensued, plans were postulated...

I learned of the first event by hook & by crook, via the grapevine - altering my departure date just so I could see The Man himself. (Actually, I confess, it was a relief to have the extra few days to get myself and the apartment more ready for what's to come.) After receiving my replacement phone, I discovered that he had called, with few specific details and cryptic instructions. Is this what collaboration is going to be like?!?

Meanwhile, I've just finished re-reading Dawn, by Octavia E. Butler. "The twilight before sunrise" seems an apt metaphor for my lifephase.

Humanity, having destroyed earth in a nuclear holocaust, is rescued by an alien species whose life purpose is to acquire and trade genetic material - constantly and consciously morphing into new species. Humans are a fascination to the Oankali because we have "two incompatible characteristics... [Lilith asks] what are they?"

Jdahya made a rustling noise that could have been a sigh, but that did not seem to come from his mouth or throat. "You are intelligent," he said. "That's the newer of the two characteristics, and the one you might have to put to work to save yourselves. You are potentially one of the most intelligent species we've found, though your focus is different from ours. Still, you've a good start in the life sciences, and even in genetics."
"What's the second characteristic?"
"You are hierarchical. That's the older and more entrenched characteristic. We saw it in your closest animal relatives and in your most distant ones. It's a terrestrial characteristic. When human intelligence served it instead of guiding it, when human intelligence did not even acknowledge it as a problem, but took pride in it or did not notice it at all . . ." The rattling sounded again. "That was like ignoring cancer. I think your people did not realize what a dangerous thing they were doing." (p. 39, Lilith's Brood)

Note:
Book Two: Adulthood Rites
Book Three: Imago