The Paradox of Empathy

         Post-apocalyptic settings and societal collapse are commonplace in a lot of science fiction, so it's no surprise I came across that theme in a recent leisure read. The way I cam across the book was a little roundabout, though. One of the faculty I work with is using Octavia Butler's Kindred in a Literature class, which reminded me that I hadn't read the copy of her Patternmaster that I picked up for $0.50 several years ago at a library book sale. Well, try as I might, I couldn't find it, but I did find a copy of Butler's Parable of the Sower, so I dove into that one instead.

        Published in the early 1990s, this is a tense, frightening work about the dystopic future (set in the 2020s!) where an enclave of people try to maintain a community in the face of the breakdown of society all around them. As the country around them descends into barbarism, this community is destroyed by roving gangs and the main character, Lauren Olamina, sets out with a few others to journey to what will hopefully be safer lands to the north. Lauren is a remarkable character for a couple of reasons. First, one of the themes of the book is Lauren's creation of a new religion, "Earthseed," based on the assertion "God is change, and change is God." Throughout the novel, Earthseed slowly but continually spreads, gaining followers. There are multiple discussions of the nature of religion, of what allows a religion to spread and appeal to followers, and so forth that make me wish I could offer a class on "Religions in Literature," where we could compare Earthseed to Vonnegut's "Bokonism" or the various belief systems in Herbert's Dune.

        Lauren is remarkable also for an inherited ability Butler terms "hyperempathy," where she feels all the pain, joy, and other emotions of others to the point where if she is around someone who is injured or worse, she will experience those same emotions or sensations. For most of the novel, it is hard to see this as anything but a liability in a world where, increasingly, one must either kill or be killed.

        Throughout, Parable of the Sower made me think of Cormac McCarthy's The Road, which taps into some of the same themes.

        In an earlier post on that work, I wrote about how it's situation (a dying man tries, vainly it seems, to lead his young son to safety while they travel through the desolate, horror-filled wasteland left after some untold cataclysm has devastate the earth) that represents the ultimate encapsulation of every parent's unexpressed yet underlying nightmare: as much as we want to protect our children from a dangerous world, our efforts will always be insufficient, and one day, inevitably, we will be gone.

        The primary connection between the two books, besides the post-apocalyptic context, is the complicated treatment of empathy, which both works raise almost to the level of paradox. Imagining the feelings of others and being able to connect with fellow humans on an emotional level is indispensable to the operation of society. As both novels point out, though, once the bonds break and society decays, empathy can become a liability. In The Road, the Man tells the Boy that they are keepers of the "fire," the spark of humanity and humaneness in a brutal world. Yet, time and again when the Boy wants to help others, the Man refuses, arguing that they need to hold back their resources or be wary to trust for fear of being attacked. In Parable of the Sower, Lauren uses her ability to forge bonds with fellow travelers, yet it makes her reluctant to make hard decisions and even incapacitates her when violence becomes necessary. In both novels, this is the paradox of empathy: feeling for others is the only thing that will rebuild society, but it is also the greatest impediment to personal survival.

        In an atmosphere of growing polarization, are these novels fiction or are they prophecy? A recent article in Scientific American discusses the increasing "empathy deficit" in the United States. Put simply, people in this country are caring less and less about the plights of others and are no longer willing to entertain how situations are affecting people besides themselves. It seems that, faced with the same paradox of empathy found in The Road and Parable of the Sower, Americans are choosing isolation and individualism. Frightening stuff!

        And yet, going back to those books, against all logic both works end on more or less positive notes. The characters in both those novels seem to have found ways to reconnect with other people and form mini-societies where it looks as if humanity and empathy will be the foundation. In both cases, the creation of those groups comes from pure, raw vulnerability and trust. Whether we have the same mettle in ourselves, outside the pages of the written world, remains to be seen.

        Next time, we'll talk about an enormous, irradiated beast and the political and cultural meanings of his representation. We're going to talk about Godzilla, past and present! Until then, take care.