Super Series Saturday: The Giver Quartet by Lois Lowry

I loved The Giver growing up, but never had any particular interest in the two companion novels, Gathering Blue and Messenger -- until I read the synopsis for the fourth and final book in the series, Son. Pregnant with my own son, I was intrigued by both the return to characters from The Giver and the theme of motherhood. I decided to reread The Giver and complete the quartet.

The Giver is a classic, and I read it several times growing up (although I did get sick of it when I had to read it a third time for school). Set in a society where everything is rigidly controlled and strong emotions like love are nullified, the young man Jonah receives a strange assignment with the rest of the children of his age receiving their occupational assignments. Through this assignment, he learns about the burden and blessing of choice, something that has been taken away from the people in his society. Something about that eerily placid community fascinated me from the first time I read the novel, and Lowry's stark prose vividly portrays the uncomfortable truths Jonah's dystopian town raise. While I certainly enjoyed the story growing up, I think as an adult it has more significance to me as I have come to better understand the underlying themes. It is an extremely powerful novel.

Gathering Blue initially seems to have nothing to do with the world of The Giver, except for the fact that it takes place in a dysfunctional society. This society is much more primitive, with rigid class separations, the ritual killing of those with deformities and illnesses, and a song sung every year telling the history of their village. Kira is plucked from her home due to her talent for sewing, and initially she is thrilled -- a new home, recognition, safety. However, she soon learns that those who chose her are restricting the expression of the people in the village, and she begins to see the importance of having that freedom of expression. To be honest, this book didn't appeal to me nearly as much as The Giver or of any of the other books in the quartet. I definitely appreciate its message, but the story was slow moving and didn't pull me in.

Messenger, on the other hand, was much more interesting to me, although it became slightly bizarre and more fantasy-like than the other novels. It follows Matty, a character we meet in Gathering Blue, and his life in a new village that has sought to cast off the injustice and rigidity of the many different dystopian societies that fill the world. However, problems are creeping into even the tolerant Village (utopia becomes dystopia...), and Matty's special talents make him pivotal in saving the Village and the friends he has come to see as family. Again, some of the elements in Messenger were decidedly bizarre, but it was much more adventurous than Gathering Blue or even The Giver and the climax was powerful and devastating.

Son, the final book in the quartet, had a very different feel than any of the others. The story is about Claire, the mother of Gabe, a character we meet in The Giver. Claire has the role of Birth Mother, providing children for the perfect little families in Jonah's community. However, something goes wrong with her birth, and she is given another assignment. What the authorities don't know is that Claire saw her son and has become attached to him, and willing to find him at all costs. However, the journey is unlike what she expects. A criticism I've read of this book is that Claire's maternal search for Gabe is something that kids, the target audience of Son, won't be able to relate to. However, I think many of Son's readers are those of us who enjoyed The Giver as children. With that said, it does have a slightly different feel than the rest of the quartet. It is much longer, for one thing, and also has that same fantastical element that permeates Messenger. Overall, it does an excellent job of binding the characters from the previous two books together and illustrating the overall message of the series: the importance of choice and loyalty to oneself.

Spiritual Sundays: Agency in Literature

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It has been a long time since I've written a "Spiritual Sundays" post, but lately some of the concepts I've been coming across in books I've been reading spurred the desire to write this post. 

My entire life, I've been taught the importance of the concept of "agency." My church's definition of agency is: 

Agency is the ability and privilege God gives us to choose and to act for ourselves. Agency is essential in the plan of salvation. Without agency, we would not be able to learn or progress or follow the Savior. With it, we are “free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil” (2 Nephi 2:27).

So basically, agency is the principle that all people on earth have the right and the ability to make their own choices. Those choices come with consequences, whether positive or negative, but the choice is always present. I grew up being taught that agency was one of the most important gifts from God to humankind -- without it, our actions would be meaningless. (Boethius explores the idea of agency vs. fate/foreordination quite a bit in his Consolation of Philosophy, which I read in college, but I can't remember what his conclusions were... just thought I'd throw that fact in there while we were talking about agency). 

So what does this have to do with literature? Well, in the last few weeks I read two different passages in two different books that illustrated this principle, and I just wanted to bring them together because I thought it was really interesting and beautiful that a concept that I believe is an absolute truth was showing up multiple times in the books I was reading. 

The first passage is from The Giver. In this book, the protagonists live in a society where agency has been taken away. Everything is organized and set up so that people live perfectly happy, easy lives. However, there is a complete lack of emotion and meaning to these peoples' lives, and the protagonist, Jonah, realizes this:

‘But now that I can see colors, at least sometimes, I was just thinking: what if we could hold up things that were bright red, or bright yellow, and he could choose? Instead of the Sameness.’

            ‘He might make wrong choices.’

            ‘Oh.’ Jonas was silent for a minute. ‘Oh, I see what you mean. It wouldn’t matter for a newchild’s toy. But later it does matter, doesn’t it? We don’t dare to let people make choices of their own.’

            ‘Not safe?’ The Giver suggested.

            ‘Definitely not safe,’ Jonas said with certainty. ‘What if they were allowed to choose their own mate? And chose wrong?

            'Or what if,’ he went on, almost laughing at the absurdity, ‘they chose their own jobs?’

            ‘Frightening, isn’t it?’ The Giver said.

            Jonas chuckled. ‘Very frightening. I can’t even imagine it. We really have to protect people from wrong choices.’

            ‘It’s safer.’

            ‘Yes,’ Jonas agreed. ‘Much safer.’

            But when the conversation turned to other things, Jonas was left, still, with a feeling of frustration that he didn’t understand.

I found this passage so interesting, because we actually believe that Satan wanted to implement a similar plan in opposition to that of God; instead of allowing people to make their own choices, he wanted to eliminate choice and give people a "fool-proof" life that was essentially devoid of meaning and purpose. 

The second passage I came across is from East of Eden by John Steinbeck, and illustrates the importance of the word timshel, a Hebrew word found in Genesis in the story of Cain and Abel. 

‘Ah!’ said Lee. ‘I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. I even anticipated your questions and I am well prepared. Any writing which has influenced the thinking and the lives of innumerable people is important. Now, there are many millions in their sects and churches who feel the order “Do thou,” and throw their weight into obedience. And there are millions more who feel predestination in “Thou shalt.” Nothing they may do can interfere with what will be. But “Thou mayest!” Why, that makes a man great, that gives him stature with the gods, for in his weakness and his filth and his murder of his brother he has still the great choice. He can choose his course and fight it through and win.’ Lee’s voice was a chant of triumph.

            Adam said, ‘Do you believe that, Lee?’

            ‘Yes, I do. Yes, I do. It is easy out of laziness, out of weakness, to throw oneself into the lap of deity, saying, ‘I couldn’t help it; the way was set.’ But think of the glory of the choice! That makes a man a man. A cat has no choice, a bee must make honey. There’s no godliness there. [...] I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed – because “Thou mayest.”'

I love that recognition of the fact that mankind is able to become elevated, to become truly good, because we are able to make choices, to decide if we are going to do good things or evil things.  If we didn't have the ability to make those decisions, our actions would be meaningless. I loved coming across that over and over in the last few weeks. I'm grateful for the opportunity it provided to consider the importance of agency and reflect in gratitude that it is part of my life.