Monday 8 October 2012

Title: The Giver Author: Lois Lowry

"Jonas's world is perfect.  Everything is under control.  There is no war or fear or pain.  There are no choices.  Every person is assigned a role in the Community.  When Jonas turns twelve, he is singled out to receive special training from The Giver.  The Giver alone holds the memories of the true pain and pleasure of life.  Now it's time for Jonas to receive the truth.  There is no turning back." 


The blurb on the back of the book states that, "Jonas's world is perfect," and yet the book begins with fear.  In a world that is, "... under control," the author introduces us to their world with a fear of the unknown. The book seems so wholesome.  Proper, everyone following the rules.  Acceptance of structure, fear of unknown.  The language is proper.  Everything is outlined, even children patiently, "... waiting for their comfort object."  It seems strange, weird.  We find out that Elephants and Bears are imaginary creatures, myths.  The community continues to feel odd.  Everyone's eyes are the same colour and an apple is the same, "... non-descript shade about the same shade as his own tunic."

The children have some free-time, but most of that is free-time to volunteer.  They teach their children to be active, contributing members of society.  Everyone has a purpose, a role, an accepted place in the community.  Everyone knew what to do.  Everyone knew what was expected from them.  It's predictable.  To keep the guise of predictability, every member in the community would take 'the pill' to keep 'the Stirrings' from coming.  They couldn't allow passion.  Passion is unpredictable.  Pills keep the community complacent.

Everything is controlled.  There is no individual decisions.  Everything is decided in a committee.  Even the names of the children.  Parents apply for children, and they come with names that have been considered and deliberated by a committee.  There is one couple who lost a child.  When the child was lost the community chants his name loud and fast, and gradually get slower and quieter as if to protect the community from the pain of loss.  His memory slowly fades away.  In the Replacement ceremony, the couple is given a new child with the same name; as if the original child is coming back.  The community chants the name quietly and slowly, gradually increasing the speed and volume of the child's name as if the child is coming back from the dead.  The couple receives the replacement child and it's as if they had never experienced a loss.  This goes along with their idea of a perfect society.  No one is an individual, yet when one is lost, it deems replacement.  You are not special, you can be replaced.

"How could someone NOT fit in?  The community was so meticulously ordered, the choices so carefully made."  No personal choices. Spouses, children, names, careers, "were scrupulously thought through by the Committee of Elders."  Were they trying to achieve natural harmony?  Or did they place to much trust on their 'elders'.  My question is, how is the committee suddenly qualified?  They don't know any better.  They tell you where, how and with who to fit in, but who says they're right?  The people's trust in them gives them power.    

Everyone has a number.  Jonas's is 11-19.  11 shows his age and 19 is his birth order.  Sometimes when little children act up, frustrated parents call them by their number as if, "... mischief made one unworthy of a name."  11 is the last age of childhood.  When this group turns 12 they receive their careers as chosen by the Committee of Elders and they begin being trained as adults.  The children, "... have spent all [their] years... learning to fit in, to standarize [their] behaviour, to curb any impulses that might have set [them] apart... today we honour ... differences.  They have determined [their] futures."  They value sameness, yet the differences determined their careers.  They are forced to acknowledge that we are not all the same.  We can't all be good doctors, or teachers.  Why pretend otherwise?  They mention one job without honour.  "Birthmother was an important job, if lacking in prestige."  Why is Birthmother without honour?  What about Toilet Sanitation Engineer?  How is bringing life into the world dishonourable?

When the 11's graduate to 12's and receive their careers Jonas is skipped for an assignment.  We find out later that he was instead selected and singled out to receive something special.  However, Jonas believes he has done something wrong.  In a world where everyone tries to fit in being singled out from the group is shameful.  He eventually finds out that his being singled out is not shameful at all, yet that's what he is conditioned to believe.  He instead receives the highest honour: being chosen as the new Receiver.  The Receiver is the most important member of the community.  This proves that any drive for sameness is futile.  Only when all roles are considered 'honorable and important' can they truly achieve their goal of sameness.  The Receiver is so important that any doubt, any, "... dream of uncertainty... has the power to set a candidate aside instantly."  There is only one.  There can be only one.  Jonas is that one. 

Jonas and his family are astonished!  His parents try to console and comfort his misgivings, but they know very little about the role.  They tell him what they know about the last Receiver, but the story is taboo.  They are forbidden to speak her name.  "A name designated not-to-be-spoken indicated the highest degree of disgrace."  How can his role be that honourable when the last one was erased from history and removed of her name?  Jonas receives rules to follow as the new Receiver.  One exempts him from rudeness, one permits him to lie.  "He was so completely, so thoroughly accustomed to courtesy within the community that the thought of asking another citizen an intimate question, of calling someones attention to an area of awkwardness was unnerving."  This shows the level of brainwashing.  He can't even think about being rude on purpose! 

"No doors in the community were ever locked."  This indicates the highest levels of trust, or more accurately, the perfect world of Communism.  Everyone has the same things.  When you reach 9 you receive a bike.  No need to steal or keep anyone out.  Everything is set and specified.  Everything and everyone has a purpose.  No confusion, no doubt, no varying points of view.  "... practical, sturdy and function of each piece [of furniture is] clearly defined.  A bed for sleeping, a table for eating, a desk for studying."  The rules are clearly defined.  But then Jonas discoverers books.  Books contain knowledge.  Books inspire wonder.  The books sprout curiosity.  If there were books, "Could there be rules beyond the rules that governed the community?"  Jonas is hoked the very first moment he is exposed to truth. 

He finds out about memories.  "I thought there was only us.  I thought there was only now."  We as people take history for granted.  Our shared past.  Earth's past because we can all learn about it and remember it. This community had nothing like that.  As readers, we go in the book assuming they have collective memory.  We learn, to our surprise, that they don't.  They don't know about the Earth: Jonas doesn't.  Those places don't exist and have never existed.  He learns about sledding.  Snow, hills, cold; these are things that he's never experienced.  "...what happened to ... snow and the rest of it."  Jonas asks the Giver.  "Climate Control."  The Giver reveals this answer.  Climate Control is possible and used on our planet today.  Are we in danger of one day forgetting about snow?  Chinese proverb: If you don't change you direction, you'll end up exactly where you're headed.  Is this in the future for us? 

"Everyone... has one generation memories..."  Mind Control.  Climate Control.  Genetic Control.  All these controls are put in place to lead us towards 'Sameness.'  The Giver also reveals one human truth, one flaw to their control.  "We've never completely mastered Sameness.  I suppose the genetic scientist are all hard at work trying to work the kinks out.  [Red hair] must drive them crazy."  He also reveals, "We relinquished colour when we relinquished sunshine and did away with differences."  He pauses, "we gained... many things.  But we had to let go of others."  Safety and Security ain't free. 

Jonas begins to see the colours the Giver mentions.  He begins to wonder about choices, about Free Will.  The right to choose a spouse, or a job.  The two of them agree it's much safer having all the choices made for them.  There's no risk of chaos if you have the right spouse handed to you.  Our current War on Terrorism inspires fear in all of us.  We're beginning to accept that some choices are better left up to the government.  But where will it end?  Jonas is frustrated with these new thoughts and, "... tried... to give his new awareness to his friends."  He wants to share his burden.  Being responsible for all the things we've willingly given up and forgotten is very difficult and painful.  He doesn't want to carry it alone. 

We as readers continue to cut ourselves off from Nature.  We forget that life is precious in all creation.  The community forgot it too.  This story is frighteningly resembling our own future.  "I wish they would change.  But they don't want to change.  Life here is so orderly, so predictable - so painless.  It's what they've chosen.  They have never known pain."  They have also never felt love.  Jonas strikes on an epiphany.  "You and I wouldn't have to bear so much ourselves if everyone took a part."  This is the blessing of Collective Memory.  Currently, we all hold the horrors of the world.  In Jonas's community, there is only one person designated for that role.  "[Jonas]  didn't want the memories... the honour... the wisdom... the pain..."  That day the Giver shows him love.  It feels complete in him, yet only after one memory Jonas can sense risk involved with the warmth of love.  He questions his parents.  "Do you love me?"  But to them the notion is incomprehensible.  They enjoy him and are proud of him, but they reveal how they (and the community) CANNOT understand nor are able to feel love. 

Jonas gains awareness.  "... he knew he couldn't go back to the world of no feelings that he had lived in so long.  Jonas knew with certainty that he could change nothing."  The people were so far gone.  They were inescapably immersed in the lives and rules they had created for themselves.  Even though the community is already lost, the Giver reminds us about our shared history and collective memory.  "Memories are forever."  As a reader, we learn we can't run/hide from ourselves.  This book shows a people who have tried.  Is what they've gained worth what they've given up on and lost?  It's a subtle lesson for all of us. 

Jonas experiences death. Not just a death, but a deliberate act of murder (although he has no word such as 'murder.')  Even more shocking is the detached calmness and sterile professionalism in which the task is carried out.  He now knows the truth about life.  Jonas realizes that the entire community is learning about or knows the truth about Release (which is their polite term for death.)  "Feelings are not part of the life [they've] learned."  Feelings can be dangerously chaotic, messy, scary and confusing.  This makes Jonas understand why they need a Receiver.  With all those feelings, with all those emotions and ability to choose, Jonas knows, "they'll be thrown into chaos.  They'll destroy themselves."  Which is what we do now. 

Jonas's love becomes a wild daring.  He experiences hunger for the first time and thinks on his life, "where meals were delivered to each dwelling everyday."  His world is safe, perfect, orderly, contained, functional.  There is no confusion about how or where to fit in.  There is no desire for more.  There is no comprehension of their losses.  Ignorance is bliss, and through Jonas's eyes we get a glimpse of a frighteningly possible future and the unfailing logic in which we might get there.  No one can argue with the benefits of safety and security.  No one can complain about the ease of never making a decision.  The community is perfect, yet painfully sterile.  They strive for a world of 'Sameness' all the while killing every human element that makes us alive. 

The Giver makes us aware of the preciousness of our ability to chose.  In it's simplest form it is a warning of the possibilities of a future that we ourselves might one day face.  It's an example of how easy it is to chose safety at the risk of losing something undeniably fundamental.  It makes us aware of our own desire to fit in and be the same.  Yet we can't escape the true longing to be special, to be different, as we were meant to be. 

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