Atwood, Margaret: Oryx and Crake
Oryx and Crake (2003)
Written by: Margaret Atwood
Genre: Fiction/Literary SF
Pages: 376 (Trade Paperback)
I'm not sure when I first heard about this title. Probably back when I read The Handmaid's Tale, because I'm pretty sure I didn't learn about Oryx and Crake until then. At any rate, I heard Atwood had another SFnal title in her bibliography, and some trusted reader friends of mine loved this book, so I stuck it on a wish list. Never picked it up for myself, but last Christmas, it was a gift, and when Atwood released the sequel/companion novel The Year of the Flood, I thought now would be a good time to give Oryx and Crake a chance. Also? digitalclone and I selected it as our December challenge. :)
The premise: from Amazon.com: In Oryx and Crake, a science fiction novel that is more Swift than Heinlein, more cautionary tale than "fictional science" (no flying cars here), Margaret Atwood depicts a near-future world that turns from the merely horrible to the horrific, from a fool's paradise to a bio-wasteland. Snowman (a man once known as Jimmy) sleeps in a tree and just might be the only human left on our devastated planet. He is not entirely alone, however, as he considers himself the shepherd of a group of experimental, human-like creatures called the Children of Crake. As he scavenges and tends to his insect bites, Snowman recalls in flashbacks how the world fell apart.
Review style: spoilers ahead. Considering the pace and style of the book, the spoilers aren't exactly Earth-shattering, but here's the warning anyway. SPOILERS. :) If such things bother you, please skip to the "My Rating" section of the review at the end.
I'll be honest: it's taken me so long to write about this book because I feel pretty ambivalent about it. There's stuff I liked, but there's also stuff that just didn't affect me, and I'm going to try and figure out the reasons behind that.
For starters, there's the baggage: Atwood is one of those lit-fic authors who writes something that is, by definition, SCIENCE FICTION, but sits back and claims HER work isn't science fiction, but rather speculative fiction, as if that term wasn't a catch all for all things science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Now, there might be SF readers who look at Oryx and Crake and criticize the science for being unbelievable or silly and therefore the book is NOT science fiction, but those people are kidding themselves: science fiction is a BIG TENT, and just because the science is pseudo-science or bad science or silly science doesn't mean the book isn't SF.
So anyway, Atwood's insistence gets my goat a little, because she's just one of many who protest too much because they're afraid of a label, when really, why should the label matter when you've got the reputation that Atwood does? Well, here's a reason, perhaps: her target audience.
When it comes to literary science fiction, there's a trend I've noticed: it's targeted to literary readers. Readers of fiction that don't really browse specific genre shelves. Book gains popularity, people start talking about it, and then the genre readers get their hands on it and find that while it has trappings of their genre, it doesn't do anything spectacular or new or original and therefore is severely criticized because non-genre find it so AMAZING when really, SF readers have seen it before and seen it done better.
Not always, mind you. Sometimes.
But my point here relates to perspective: people may not like genre labels, but let's face it, they're good to use when determining your target audience, and in Atwood's case, as is the case of many lit-fic SF writers, the target audience is not the standard SF audience. I'm not saying there won't be natural overlap, because there is, but generally speaking, Atwood isn't writing for the people who're already familiar with A Canticle for Leibowitz or any other pre-existing, apocalyptic tale. Atwood is writing for the people who aren't, and who most likely (but not always!) don't give a rat's ass about those earlier, pre-existing tales of the apocalypse.
I like to consider myself as a pretty open reader. Sure, I don't read all that much lit-fic, or any other non-SF/F/H fic, but I'm open, and I've read just enough to not feel like a genre snob. That said, depending on the lit-fic SF book in question, I find myself more along the side of the SF readers who've been there, done that, and really with the lit-fic writer wasn't getting THAT much attention for doing something that's already been done.
In the case of Atwood, I'm ambivalent, as I've already said. And I kind of hate that I'm ambivalent, because that's worse that even vehemently disliking a book, you know? Because ambivalence isn't a reaction at all, and ambivalence means I'll forget about it very, very quickly.
Here's the thing: I personally liked the world-building, even though some of it I found unnecessary. I liked the names of the Corporations and the gene-spliced animals, and whether or not Atwood's science was good or just sounded good, I liked the imagination behind it. To be honest, I'm really pissed nobody bodily forced me to read this book while I was working on my thesis, because I think I might've been a little bit inspired by some of Atwood's choices, as she tread closely to some of the things I was working on at the time. Her prose had a nice, non-offensive, rhythmic quality to it, and it was surprisingly easy to page through (I really thought this book would take me longer to read than it did).
Yet when I come to literary fiction, there's one thing I demand above all else: no, not fantastic writing (which is sad on my part, but hey), but characters I can really sink my teeth into. Because let's face it: genre fiction can sometimes rely on types of characters, and individuals can become hard to find because of those types (and reader expectations). When I approach lit fic, I'm looking for characters who are unflinchingly human, characters who do things that are so realistic it's painful, characters I can empathize with or at least really understand.
I was so distanced from the characters in this book it wasn't funny.
Don't get me wrong, Jimmy/Snowman was a pretty non-offensive voice for the book, and he had his moments. But did I ever relate to him as a character? Probably once, when his mother left that letter and said she took Killer with her to set it free. That was a punch in the gut, but I do love my pets, so if something left me a similar letter, I'd be seeing red.
But the thing with Jimmy/Snowman wasn't just that he never realized his full potential, but that there didn't seem to be any potential to begin with. Perhaps that was the point, but even that point begs the question, why? Honestly, the only answer I can come up with was that Atwood wanted a voice who was a friend to language, a friend to arts, who would not get wrapped up with the evil corporate/science-driven world she'd created to reflect back on the world we know today. And that reason alone just wasn't very powerful for me. For example, Jimmy's mother was hugely under-utilized, especially in regards to his character development, and I don't believe he ever understood the lesson she was trying to teach him (and for that matter, I'm not sure I fully grasped it either). Then there's the fact that Crake brought Jimmy under his wing at the Compound, but Jimmy never truly had a functional role. I had hoped, as the novel progressed, that we would learn that Jimmy did have a major role to play in the way the world had ended up, but no.
Sure, he became the caretaker and protector of the Crakers, but even that lost its luster after a while, especially since the end implies he's going to abandon them for his own kind. Which begs a bigger question: short of Atwood using this story and this world to criticize the direction the world is going (especially in regards to corporate greed), what's the point?
And maybe this is my SF background getting in the way, but the truth is, she doesn't show or teach me anything new. Sure, I was entertained and amused by some sections (the biology and anthropology of the Crakers was quite interesting to me, and the way Snowman interacted with them was quite fun), but in the end, nothing in this book really impacted me, and I would've liked it to. Oh well.
I did like the mystery of what Oryx and Crake were to the Crakers, because it allowed me to be surprised by their murder toward the end. Sure, there's a bit of a question regarding Crake: at first, I wasn't sure if he intentionally meant to release a virus, but given the fact that there was a cure and that Jimmy was inoculated, I'd say it's a safe bet that Crake knew exactly what he was doing all along, and in the end, proved just as human as everyone else when he killed Oryx, which prompted Jimmy to kill him. Yet that scene went by so quickly that even that didn't have as great as impact as it should have. Again, that's unfortunate.
Some nitpicks: Atwood's voice is too much her own, because let's face it, Jimmy, who is clearly born around or AFTER the dot-com collapse at the start of the decade would NEVER in a BILLION years, use the term "Polaroid" in his vocabulary, even though he's a word nut. Don't get me wrong: I understand and sympathize with the fact that even science fiction authors have a tough time extrapolating where technology will take us, and they tend to take what's in the now and run with it (look at C.J. Cherryh's use of tapes in her Alliance-Union Universe), but there's a difference between trying to extrapolate your own current technology and referring to a piece of technology that was pretty much out of date at the time the manuscript was written. Because seriously, Polaroids? We were just starting to move into the digital camera era when this book was published, and Atwood is still stuck on Polaroids? I also raised my eyebrows at the use of a "Woody Woodpecker" laugh, because even though Jimmy watched old movies and such, Woody Woodpecker was old when I was born, let alone when Jimmy could've possibly come into existence. Now, I'll admit that currently, we're living in the age of remakes and reboots in Hollywood, but that wasn't the case back when this book was written. So again, would Jimmy really be using such a description in relation to a woman's laugh? I don't think so, Tim.
But there was a line (okay, there were many, but this was my favorite) that I thoroughly enjoyed to pieces: "No point thinking about it, not in this heat, with his brain turning to melted cheese." (284) Raise your hand: who's ever felt like their brain has turned into melted cheese? I know I have, and I think that's a fantastic description. :)
My Rating
Give It Away: this is an odd rating, because in LibraryThing, I gave it four stars. I'm glad I've read the book, and I'll likely pick up the companion/sequel The Year of the Flood, but I'm so ambivalent about Oryx and Crake that I don't see myself picking it up again. In fact, it's the kind of book I'll probably forget I've read, because it never impacted me the way it probably would a reader who isn't as familiar with science fiction. I think fans of Atwood will enjoy this, and readers who aren't SF-literate in terms of tropes and conventions may find this book to be a diamond in the rough. Certainly, Atwood has a different take on the apocalypse than Cormac McCarthy's The Road, and it's interesting, though it lacks the direction and resolution that McCarthy's novel had. But hey, I'm glad I read it. I just wish I'd read it sooner than I did, before I was as familiar with SF tropes as I am now. If you're an SF fan, I'd only recommend this book to you if you don't mind reading the lit-fic takes on the genre, if you don't mind the fact you're not going to find something wholly original. I read this because I'm a sucker for lit-fic SF, and after The Handmaid's Tale, I wanted to see what else Atwood would do with the genre. The Handmaid's Tale is a much stronger book, but this one was interesting at least, even though it was a little unsatisfying.
Cover Commentary: the cover featured in the review is not the one I have, but if I did have it, I certainly wouldn't mind it. I like the coloring and the design. It's eye-catching. But the cover I have is featured behind the cut, and I think I like it a little better. Something about the stark quality to the landscape fits the book better in my mind's eye, and I like the critters on the front. :)
Next up: Skin Game by Ava Gray