Children of God Reflective

Apologies for the late post, my capstone temporarily ate all of my time.

Going along with Liz's and Phil's posts, I agree that the revolution would not have happened without outside influence, but I think it was Sophia's assimilation into Runa society which kept the revolt going. In class, I mentioned the connection I saw between Sophia and liberation theologists in Latin America, and on reflection, I think that it is a relatively apt comparison. One of the most basic reasons that liberation theology took such a strong hold in places like El Salvador was because it introduced leftist ideas as a part of the pre-established Catholic culture. This is not to say that leftist ideals about class equality and labor equity would not have caught on eventually, but by couching it in theological terms it became much easier to make liberation ideas a part of every day existence. Likewise, I believe that Sophia's shout of "we are many they are one" might have eventually sunk in for a few Runa and maybe someday there would have been a revolution. However, the fact that Sophia became stranded with the Runa, and learned their cultural ways, meant that she was able to adapt her idea of justice to fit within their cultural framework. I believe it was because Sophia became an accepted member of the Runa culture that she was able to become an effective proselytizer for justice. I think this goes along with what we discussed in relation to the Spanish in Mesoamerica. It was not the priests and conquistadors who viewed the indigenous populations as essentially Spanish in nature who were successful at converting and conquering, but rather the one who took the time to understand the culture which they were trying to interact with. Granted, Sophia's efforts were ostensibly more moral, but the principle behind them, I believe, was the same.

Children of God

First off, while I agree with several of the other posts that this seemed to resolve everything a bit too neatly, I enjoyed the fact that Russel allowed the readers to be as misguided as her characters. She intentionally didn't reveal all of the information, and really demonstrated exactly how easy it is to be completely wrong about a person or their motivations when working with incomplete information and poor communication. While it wasn't completely unexpected after PTJ's preview, it still was well done by Russel.

That said, I did feel like she stretched things a bit thin in this book. There were so many characters that I felt like a lot of them were left half-developed, which was disappointing, because most of them were people who seemed worth description. Also, while I still appreciated the literary device of jumping around in time, it felt much more haphazard in this book. I suppose that has something to do with the decreased role of determinism in this book as opposed to the last one, but the jumps felt a bit more awkward in this book. At first it does make sense when moving in relative time and actual space between Sandoz and Sophia, but the few jumps she makes to the time after Sandoz left felt forced, as though she had to fit in more exposition and foreshadowing, and this was the fastest way to do it.

I agree with the others who were left a bit disoriented by this book, but over all it was enjoyable. I felt as though its ending did detract a bit from the last book, but the bulk of the two were very complementary. I'm looking forward to our discussion, and to hearing other people's opinions.

Todorov Reflection

A few things with regards to our discussion of Todorov. First, I think we were absolutely right in our apparent consensus that understanding does not have to lead to sympathy and certainly not to empathy. If you fundamentally disagree with someone's actions and their reasoning for their actions, it stands to reason the more you understand about them the more there is to dislike. However, I'm not convinced that this completely covers the case of Cortez. In the course of the discussion there was an excellent point made that while Cortez understood the how of Aztec society he didn't understand the why. I'm not entirely convinced that this completely explains the actions of Cortez, however. While I agree that Cortez didn't necessarily understand the motivations behind the rituals and customs of the Aztecs, I'm also not convinced that it would have mattered if he did. I really don't think that he viewed the Aztecs as humans, but rather as some other species, who weren't really capable of reasoning. Had he had any interest in the whys of the Aztecs, I think he and the other Spaniards would have, like Columbus, recorded them as naturalists' observations, instead of ethnographic observations (a concept which didn't exist at the time), and that these would not have elicited any sense of sympathy from them.

Todorov

I find myself kind of surprised by some of the other posts with regard to this as a strictly historical text. I was also surprised by the presentation of the presentation of the "discoverers" of America, but at the level of understanding afforded to the Spanish invaders and Todorov's restraint from completely demonizing the Spaniards. Of course part of my European history class in high school was taught using Howard Zinn, I suppose that's no great shock. I had always reduced the motives for conquest down to "gold, God, and glory," but I feel like this presented a slightly more balanced view. I appreciated his attempt to avoid the pitfalls of the dichotomies usually applied to this period, although I don't think that he can by any means be viewed as unbiased. I have a hard time accepting his extensive use of quotations as exclusively"letting the authors speak" as he terms it, and I would have at times appreciated more of his argument and less of him cutting and pasting theirs. That said, this was a really fascinating read, and his quotations gave great access to documents most of us would never have access to, or at the very least inclination to seek out.

With relation to science fiction, if you enjoyed this, pick up Card's Pastwatch at some point. Card notes his use of Todorov, but really it's an almost exact (fictionalized) version of Todorov's ideas. It strikes me how important for both Todorov and science fiction writers how important the idea of communication is. It's interesting to compare communication in Todorov to that in the Sparrow. Todorov notes that the conquistadors were interested only in finding the Spanish equivalents to words (when they bothered at all); Sandoz moved beyond that (he notes how careful he was to find out exactly what their words meant) but he still didn't bother with all of the signs and cultural symbols. Doesn't seem like a whole lot of progress to me. Ender's Game shows the same thing, we don't understand them, so lets eliminate them (which is much easier to deal with because, as Phil's discussion of the Sparrow alludes to, they're ugly). I suppose that most sci-fi is dystopian, but its still sad to see how little we have progressed, and how little authors envision us progressing.

Refection on the Sparrow

I had two general thoughts after reading some of the other posts and our discussion in class. First: while there were several references made in class and on the blogs to the blind devotion of the priests on the mission, and while that seemed true in the case of Sandoz, his training had been for a critical, informed, academic faith, not the stereotypical uniformed devotion. However, he seemed to lose all academic aspects of his faith about thirty seconds after hearing the transmission. Both while reading and during our discussion it struck me that one of Sandoz's primary flaws was that he became so wrapped up in his own personal pentecost that he seemed to completely forget his (presumably) extensive knowledge of both biblical and church history. While many posts and much of discussion make the assumption that the god in the book (assuming there is one) is the god of the deists who created and left, rather than one who leaves turtles on fenceposts, I don't think that this is a necessary assumption. If Sandoz's education was anything like what I'd imagine it to be, he would be well aware that the path of god, even a biblical interventionist god, often didn't lead to good places for the followers. The obvious case of this is the story of Job where a god who intervened in peoples lives on a regular basis deliberately allowed Job's faith to be tested. While this is the almost obligatory reference with regards to this novel, there are other examples of an intervening, turtle-leaving god allowing bad things to happen. John the Baptist, the "voice in the wilderness," had his severed head given to Herodias on a silver platter after having baptized Jesus; he was following the spoken will of god-on-earth and I'd argue that he had it at least as bad as Sandoz. That said, I'm pretty sure that all (there might have been an exception) of the twelve apostles were martyred, and the will of god in people's lives doesn't get much clearer than in their case. So I don't think that we can say with certainty that, in the context of the book, Sandoz's error lied in assuming that the turtles on fenceposts had been left deliberately, but rather that he made the assumption that the turtles were leading to someplace he wanted to go. Even with a complete belief in a biblical interventionist god, he should have been aware of the implicit dangers attached to "god's will."

This leads to my second (briefer) thought, which is that the church would have had a much easier time dealing with Sandoz had he been victimized in a more sanitized way. Mike talks in his post about the saintliness of Sandoz, and it seems to me that the church would have had a much easier time viewing him as good (or even saintly) if he'd simply had the good graces to be martyred like all of the others. In thinking about all of the examples of people being punished for following "the will of god" it occurred to me that while its relatively easy to glorify someone who dies in the name of god, you don't get too much press on people who were raped in the name of god. I guess death makes for better PR. Anyway it just makes me wonder how many cases like Sandoz there are out there. People who almost died for god, but didn't quite get there, and because of that were viewed with suspicion and became outcasts rather than getting their own feast days. Maybe not many, but somehow I doubt it. Either way I find myself looking forward to Russel's further portrayals of faith in the next book.

Schmitt Reflection

It struck me during our discussion that the War on Terror is a combines Schmitt's idea of the foe and of the increasing pacification of political dialog on 79. Instead of declaring war on an enemy (which would be violent and go against the aversion that society has developed towards war) war has been declared against an idea. The only people who are actively vilified are those who criminally violate peaceful order. This is much easier for (in Schmitt's definition) a relatively pacifist society to stomach. It seems that Schmitt is right and we prefer to have as few enemies as possible, so while there are a few terrorists who we demonize, the rest of the people are our friends who welcome our peace and freedom with open arms. Of course, this has little effect on reality, since our "friends" are nearly as or more likely than our enemies to be killed as we try to enforce peace and freedom. However, the new forms of pacifist propaganda, which Schmitt alludes to makes the "collateral damage" of wars for peace and freedom much easier for a post world war society to deal with.

Schmitt

Two thoughts I had on Schmitt, first (and I'm sure this is intentional) it is possible to engage his writing with almost every novel we have read this semester. I realize that we've avoided utopian visions of the future because, lets face it, dystopias engage with our historical and political contexts in far more interesting and relevant ways. It seems though, that every author we've read agrees with Schmitt's assertion that in most cases other=enemy. While most of the protagonists we've read about don't necessarily occupy the moral high ground, it doesn't really matter, conflicts are possible because he is a stranger (Schmitt, 27). Like Liz mentioned, this goes straight to the heart of the human bugger conflict, but in this case not only are the buggers alien and strangers they are also (to the humans) morally evil and aesthetically ugly, giving humans all the more reason to exterminate them. Also, I found Schmitt's discussion on 54 very interesting in relation to not just science fiction in general, but specifically Card. Schmitt almost seems to imply that an enemy outside the planet could end friend-enemy dichotomies among humans, Card seems to agree with this in the form of the IF bringing universal stability to the world while the threat of the buggers was still present. However, literally as soon as the buggers were destroy, the friend-enemy paradigm switched back to earth as the various political groups began battling among themselves over the future of earth.
On a probably slightly less fruitful note, the historian part of my brain wouldn't let go of the fact that Schmitt ended up being a Nazi. I realize that circumstances and moments in history sometimes sweep people along with them, but it was really disturbing to me that someone who could so clearly visualize the dangerous shape that politics could take when the enemy became "an outlaw of humanity" (79) would be a party to the atrocities of the Nazi party.

Ender's Game

I have to agree with Mike and admit that I found our discussion last week a bit disturbing. The idea that the only option was to destroy the buggers since no one knew how to communicate them seems a bit anachronistic to me. Granted, many wars are still fought at least in part because people are unable to communicate, but the idea that we should fight primarily because we can't communicate is rather disturbing.

Over spring break I read one of Card's other books, Pastwatch, in which Card explores the first interactions between Columbus and the natives on Haiti. In that book it becomes apparent that Card blamed the failed communication between Columbus and the native people for many of the wrongs of our society and the future society he was envisioning. However he also envisioned a past in which the natives of Central America had developed the technology to fight back, and the results were as disastrous as the encounter in our time line. However, in both of these cases Card presented the conflict as a problem of the past, one which the people of the future acknowledged and were actively working to correct. I'm not sure how much of that has to do with viewing conflicts retroactively, unfortunately that is the position we're all put in whether reading history or novels. It's also difficult to put ourselves in the position of truly not being able to communicate or understand another civilization. However, that being said, I find it very hard to accept that the complete destruction of an entire species was the only option for the IL. Of course I'm not sure that I could have done anything better than the IL did with the information they had, but it seems like there should have been a better way.

Also for anyone familiar with Babylon 5, I couldn't help but compare this encounter to the initial encounters of the humans with the Minbari. Due to a miscommunication, they entered into a war which almost destroyed humanity. I guess this is a fairly common theme for science fiction. It seems that in 500 years would would have a better way of doing things, but baring a way to communicate I have to admit I'm really unsure what that is.

Ender's Game Reflection

I had forgotten exactly how much I enjoy this book, and it was really interesting to read it now that I'm a bit older. Also I thought that some of the letters included in the introduction were wonderful to read, it seems like there's something in this book that many people can relate to. In terms of the class though, when I read this I couldn't help but compare Ender to Yod. Yod said at one point that a weapon shouldn't be self aware, and largely because of that he decided to destroy himself. It struck me that the teachers and commanders were trying to turn Ender into a self-aware weapon just like Yod. They knew that they might destroy his life, but as long he fulfilled the purpose he was bred for it didn't really matter. Granted , Graff felt some sympathy for Ender, but that didn't stop his treatment of him. Once Ender had fulfilled his purpose he had apparently outlived his usefulness on Earth, his return would have certainly given one of the warring countries an advantage and that would not have been acceptable to anyone. He was still young, but I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had he not been able to escape all of the pressures from earth by leaving for the new colonies. I can't imagine he could have held up indefinitely trapped in the outpost, and I don't think he would have willingly submitted to Peter's plans for the world.

I also read this at the same time as I was reading Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus, also by Card. When looked at together it really struck me how much easier it is to deal with an other who is an alien rather than an other who is human. The people of Earth have absolutely no doubt that the Buggers are evil and should be eradicated. Ender points out during the trial of Graff that people called him a cold blooded killer for the murders of Stilson and Bonzo, but that no one saw killing billions of Buggers as a crime. It wasn't until Ender became Speaker for the Dead that there was any indication that people saw the Buggers as anything but a deadly pest to be eradicated. It was much harder for Card to deal with human others however; he couldn't have easily looked at the native peoples from Columbus's perspective, it would make most modern readers incredibly uncomfortable to be expected to sympathize with a main character who saw other people as subhuman pests to be eradicated or exploited. Instead, that book had to be set from the perspective of enlightened historians from the future who could see the errors of Columbus's ways. Had Columbus encounter aliens rather than people however, the book could have been written from his perspective, rather than by people observing him. Condoning genocide of something that looks completely different from us is much easier for most readers to swallow. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that Card had other reasons for writing Pastwatch as he did, but even if this wasn't in his mind, I think it's relevant to themes we've been discussing.

Reflection on V for Vendetta

I think the one thing that struck me most in class was the discussion of destruction versus creation. I couldn't help but consider the gender roles in V for Vendetta when we were discussing V's inability or at least lack of attempt at creation. Instead the role of creator was left to Evey. This falls much more into traditional (comfortable?) gender roles than did Avram's creation of Yod. I also find myself wondering how much the dynamics of the book would have changed if Evey had been a male character. Since, as Professor Jackson pointed out, Evey had no role as a love interest in the novel, would it have worked just as well with an "Adam" character? Or would we be left feeling as though a man wouldn't be ready to create a new order after V finished with his destruction? I'm really not sure.

Also, with regard to whether or not V is a "good guy" I would argue that he is not. I'm not even entirely convinced that he is the protagonist of the novel, I found myself feeling far more interested in Evey's character, if only because she was much more three dimensional. I believe someone mentioned that while V is represented as the antithesis of Norsefire, which is decidedly evil, being the antithesis of something evil doesn't automatically make him good. That said, I'm not sure that V is as antithetical to Noresfire as he would like to be. Like Norsefire, it seems as though he has decided that he alone gets to determine who is human enough to be worth saving. For the government, that was people of the 'Nordic race,' and for V it was anyone who hadn't been too contaminated by the government, and even then he may have set those who might be worth saving on a path to destruction, unless they could find a way 'free' themselves after he created mass chaos. Also, in his treatment of Evey, it seemed that he was trying to mold her in his image by subjecting her to the same treatment (minus Batch 5) that he and Valerie had been subjected to. While he may have felt justified in do this, he did to her exactly what the scientists at Larkhill had done to him, which really puts them on the same level in my opinion. I'm sure that those scientists felt just as justified as he did in performing their experiments, and equally sure that V wouldn't have hesitated to kill Evey had she not passed his test. While there is the chance that V's actions produced more positive results than the actions of those in power, I don't believe he occupies the moral high ground in any way.

V for Vendetta

So, some fairly disjointed thoughts on V for Vendetta: while I enjoyed the story line and some of the commentary in V for Vendetta, I found some of the plot nuances difficult to follow because of the format. This may be entirely due to the fact that I had never read a graphic novel before, but many of the characters, especially the minor ones, looked similar enough that I had a difficult time distinguishing them. That said, I really enjoyed reading this, the movie didn't even come close.

I thought one of the more interesting devices in this book was the use of all of the varied cultural references and the use of music. V quoting Shakespeare (11-12) and the Rolling Stones (54) with equal conviction and I am Legend sitting on V's bookshelf next to Dante (18) made an interesting point about the importance of any culture, not just "high" culture. Also the set up of Book 2 with a song was an interesting way to give an overview. I also really appreciated the Les Miserables reference on 255, especially after seeing the way Finch's obsession with V played out. There are definite parallels to Lean Valjean and Javert, but I didn't think of them until seeing the graphic.

I found pieces of the premise somewhat hard to believe, but that may have been because of the time the novel was written at. While I can accept the idea of Britain becoming a dictatorship, the idea of it being religiously based is pretty hard to believe. Beyond that this book was decidedly a product of the Cold War, which doesn't diminish the value of its commentary, but should be taken into account, and does take away slightly from its verisimilitude.

On the other hand, the idea of a big brother society is still alive and well long after the Cold War. There are already cameras in almost every city in Britain (which look identical to the ones on page 9) which constantly monitor looking for criminal activity. Some even have live operators which inform people when they have been spotted littering or engaging in "anti-social behavior" (check out the BBC's article). I found the concept a bit creepy while I was living there, but almost everyone took them for granted, and seemed completely oblivious to being monitored. While it's probably not a slippery slope, the possibility seems to exist, and keeps this novel very relavant.

Reflection on He, She, and It

Ok, a couple of fairly random thoughts: first, I think we may have been overlooking the importance of physical appearance and traits when discussing whether Yod was in fact a person. While it seems fairly superficial, I do think it needs to be emphasized. Honestly I thought that Mike behaved as much like a human as Yod, he clearly had a personality, he interacted with his environment, he was self aware, but because Mike was a box locked in a room, you never think of him as a person. A living entity yes, but a person, no. Maybe that's completely obvious to everyone, but I did feel like we were overlooking it. While Shira says that she doesn't think about what's under a man's skin, maybe the fact that Yod doesn't have a spleen does have an effect on whether he is a person. I think we also need to be careful with our definition of agency when using Jack's definition to define person-hood. If we define agency simply as the ability to affect change, we run the disturbing possibility of cutting out populations of humans from our definition of people. If we look only at people's ability to affect their own circumstances, where does that leave those living in slavery. I don't think that definition is necessarily flawed, but we do need to be careful with it.

Also, was did anyone else think of Alia while reading this? It strikes me that she was in a way fairly similar to Yod. She was born with all of the knowledge of the reverend mothers, just as Yod began with all of the knowledge that Avram programmed into him. The scene where Alia is describing her first awareness during the ceremony sounded very similar to Yod describing his first moments of conciousness, except Yod was without a Jessica figure to protect him. Later, Paul describes Alia off killing Sardaukar as being completely natural, almost like she was intended to be some sort of weapon (St. Alia of the Knife). There were several more parallels, but those are the ones that came immediately to mind. I'm not convinced that it's relevant, but the similarities struck me.

He She and It

I think that this book takes our discussion of Mike and the morality of an artificial intelligence (intentional or otherwise) to a whole new level, but I have to admit what stood out to me most about this book was the environment in which it was set. To me it read like sci-fi meets some combination of An Inconvenient Truth and Silent Spring. The idea of only vultures, rats, snakes, insects and rabbits being left see med to me like a far more plausible and disturbing possibility than that of artificial intelligence and giant corporations replacing nation states. I thought the image of the skeletons of songbirds being sold in the glop as relics of days long gone was one of the most disturbing images of the entire book. While I realize this was not intended to be the focus of the book, the setting of the book (especially in sci-fi) is what makes the premise possible. Also the image of Malkah as a college student in Prague in 2008, and only 9 years later the world being nearly destroyed by a war starting in Israel was very disturbing to read about. In spite of the fact that this book was written 17 years ago it still seems plausible, not in the abstract but on the time line it sets, with a few possible exceptions of course. Still, I think that this was far more connected to our reality than anything we have read yet, and I found it making me consider the present far more than anything we have read yet.

Reflection on Weber and Messiahs

I think that one of the more relevant parts of our discussion on Tuesday might actually be the idea of the “messiah as a vocation.” It seems like many of the political candidates out there are trying to be messiahs rather than politicians. If only s/he is elected, the face of not only politics but America will be changed forever. And while that’s all well and good, I for one would appreciate a bit more practicality and a bit less prophesying.

It seems also that we’ve wedded ourselves to the idea that only the person who sits in the proverbial “big chair” can change the way things are. I think that ties in with what Phil is saying about a lack collective action in Dune and with messiahs in general; it seems as though most energized politicos are waiting for The Politician who is going to come along and right all of the wrongs in the world, when really they need to get up and do something about the issues they care about themselves. Instead, those who don’t wait for the right politicians are put into the activist box by most Americans, and consigned to the political fringes. While I’m not advocating for the Monkey Wrench Gang, I think a little work on the part of the people who are willing to cheer for the rock star politician, but not attempt to affect change themselves wouldn’t be amiss. Of course that borders on the idealism that Weber warns against, but then again his lecture is addressed to politicians, so maybe a little less cynicism on the part of the average citizen could actually be a positive thing. I for one would be interested to hear what he would have said about idealism on the part of the citizen rather than the citizen as voter.

Max Weber

I have to agree with several other posts which said there was nothing particularly new in Weber's lecture, but I did find several elements of it interesting. What stood out most to me was his discussion of the importance of journalism in politics. It often seems in studying history that the power of journalism is something which is only understood retrospectively, but it is clear here that Weber is well aware of the power of the media over politics. This may be a misperception on my part, after all the Spanish-American war clearly revealed the power of media, and it seems unlikely that people were unaware of the machinations of newspapermen, but in the era of 24 hour news networks it seems like a particularly apt observation. Also apt, and mostly ironic, in light of CNN and Fox News, is Weber's discussion of the necessary genius of good journalism. I couldn't help but wonder what he would have to say about the journalistic influence on the current election.

Also, looking at this article as it relates to Dune, it struck me that Paul's personas of Muad'Dib and Duke Atredies capture all of the types of power which Weber discusses. Muad'Dib's power is based almost entirely on "the authority of the extraordinary." He has the absolute devotion of his followers solely because they believed in him. His authority as the Duke, however, came through the "authority of eternal yesterday" and through "legality." It is interesting that he chose to claim authority when given the chance based on his authority as the Duke, cementing it with a marriage (again authority from inheritance and legality.) In his mind, that was the more legitimate source of power. However, it was Muad'Dib who inspired his followers to Jihad, and Muad'Dib who was powerful enough to regain the 'rightful' place for the Duke. I think this leads to some interesting questions about the nature and relative strength of the types of authority Weber discusses, both with regards to Dune and with regards to the state of the world today.

Dune

First, I thought that this was an amazing book, and I agree that it was really easy to get lost in and fly though. With so much to focus on, the thing which I thought of most in reflecting was the genre of the book. Looking back at our first discussion, it seems to me that Dune contains almost as many elements of fantasy as it does science. While the technology to change the planet from desert into something more habitable is essential to the book, it seems that the elements of the fantastic are just as essential. One of the major things that stood out to me was Paul's ability to see the future, which is never really explained. While there may have been a scientific explanation for this ability, it isn't addressed. Also, the mystic elements of the Bene Gesserit seem much more like magic than like science. There is absolutely no explanation for things like the voice of power. I still think that there are elements of science fiction, but that Dune really does cross genres and enter at least somewhat into the fantasy realm.

That being said, this book is incredibly applicable to current society, not just in terms of social science, but also in terms of its scientific elements. With climate change being one of the most visible environmental issues today, the thought of trying to reclaim a desert planet seems incredibly viable. I also have to admit a curiosity about how Arakis became a desert planet in the first place. I look forward to seeing what elements stood out to everyone else in relation to social science issues.

Manifest Destiny

I thought that Manifest Destiny was a very insightful book. However, after finishing, I wanted to read a postscript from the author written now. It seems to me that events over the last ten years have completely invalidated his claim that a sense of American destiny is in jeopardy. Before the final chapter, I often found myself thinking that really all that was needed for his quotations from the 19th century to be coming from politicians of today was some slight political correcting, and the substitution of "democracy" for "anglo-saxon empire." While our current democracy spreading endeavors are couched in much prettier language with regards to those we are interested in converting, it amounts, in my opinion, to much the same thing. We are now in an age of ideological expansionism as far as the US is concerned.

Outside of that I found several things in the book disturbing, although not necessarily new. Some of the rhetoric Stephanson quoted was disturbingly close to German rhetoric pre-WWII. The section that really stood out to me was on pg. 81; where the "extinction for the inferior races" was referred to as "God's final and complete solution." While the term "final solution" obviously didn't have the same connotations in the 19th century as it does, reading the phrase coming from an American statesman was really disturbing. Also, I found the comparison of American patriotism to a religion, again while not necessarily new, very insightful, especially in light of our current mission of democratization, as well as the puritanical and protestant roots of the concept of manifest destiny

Reflections on 1/29

Coming out of Tuesday's discussion, I cannot help but be struck by the fact that by the end of the book it becomes clear that the professor, whether knowingly or not, was acting exactly like the governments he so disliked. I think this adds and interesting dimension to the character, because on the surface it is fairly easy to take him as an idealist completely committed to anarchy, compromising only out of necessity. However, in attempting to bring about the revolution he manipulates literally everyone involved, and ends up being more manipulative than the parliament.
The professor's greatest complaint about the parliament as they are beginning to draft laws is that governments make the decision about what is best for all and then make it mandatory. However, throughout the entire course of the revolution the professor, while not using legislation, has decided what is best for all of Luna, and manipulates the situation to achieve his goals for all. While the professor admits his hypocrisy when discussing his preference of stealing to taxation, until I put this all together, I did not realize exactly how deep that hypocrisy ran. With a character as intelligent as the professor, it is impossible to imagine that he was not aware of his own contradictory nature.
While in the end it did turn out that the people of Luna embraced the revolution, it is worthwhile to consider whether this would have happened if the professor hadn't decided that a compromise with the Authority was unacceptable. While, as we discussed in class, it is hard to say whether the authority would have offered a compromise, it is certainly safe to say that the professor did not help the situation. It is and interesting point that Heinlein makes with this character, that one person, who starts with relatively little power, can willingly manipulate such a large situation. It also seems to speak to his views about the willingness of people to compromise their personal ideals when so much power is at stake. While that may be a somewhat unfair view of the professor, it seems to me like the deeper you dig into the character, the less straightforward and trustworthy he is. However, we discussed the fact that the revolution would have impossible without Mike, but I think that because of his manipulative skills the revolution would have been equally impossible, or at least been stopped far earlier, without the professor.

Sucess of the Revolution

I thought that this was an incredibly well written book that captured the "realities" of a revolution much more so than many more idyllic views of a revolution rising up from brilliant leaders with an unquestionably right cause. It also is extremely illustrative of the point which we have discussed in class several times; it is much easier to read social theories when they are wrapped up in a plot and displaced from current circumstances. There are several different parts of the book which lent to its believability. While it was clear that those on Luna were receiving oppressive treatment, two of the primary protagonists (Mike and Mannie) had little interest in politics or revolt at the beginning of the book. While Mike is a special case, Mannie seems to take the place of a kind of everyman on Luna, and it is clear that most of them have little independent interest in revolt as long as life is tolerable. That, along with the fact that all of the characters made a conscious decision to start the revolution, complete with mathematical analysis, rather than being swept up in a tide of patriotic fervor, made the plot very believable.

That said, I was concerned in the last few pages of the book and victory was declared, that Heinlein was going to leave the novel with a 'happily ever after' for Luna, and rid himself of all of the verisimilitude he had built up in the previous 350 pages. However, in the last few pages he came through with an ending which fits what we know of most historical revolutions. The great revolution, which had finally come to fruition, was bogged down by bureaucracy and internal division. While it seems that Luna is not going to tolerate being subjugated, it is also not going to turn into the ideal libertarian society that the professor talked about.


The other question which this book calls into question is the definition of humanity. While this is a fairly common theme in science fiction, the manner in which Heinlein chooses to address it is somewhat unique. Throughout the book, Mike is as 'human' as any other character. In fact, from Mannie's perspective Mike is far more human than any of the people on Terra. However, Mike's 'death' at the end was a very peculiar way to close the book. It is interesting that after having written an entire novel about revolution, Heinlein chooses to spend the last few pages reflecting more on the loss of Mike's humanity than on the loss of the ideals of the revolution. While that does not undermine the political commentary in the book, I think it does call into question its absolute centrality.