books · Historical Fiction · Science/ Alternative Fiction

Book Review: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead was a deviation from the norm in my reading list. Whitehead takes a solidified past event, and uses fictional elements to create a subversive retelling of pre-Civil War America. The fictionalization creates a dystopian past, where relevant modern-day issues are planted like weeds, showing how those issues and prejudices have thrived into the modern day.

Cora is a strong-willed self-preservationist. She lives on a plantation in Georgia, owned and operated by the Randall family, where her mother and grandmother were also slaves. Cora’s mother Mabel was a runaway slave, getting away from the plantation and never being caught. Cora is haunted by her mother’s decision to abandon her daughter, and by the fact that mother is likely living in the North, free from imprisonment and persecution.

Cora is convinced by a friend to run. They set off in the dead of night, making their way into South Carolina. There they find peace, a happy sanctuary, but it’s later discovered that far worse things are happening to free blacks there. Cora needs to continue to run, because there is a known slave hunter after her.

Each of the states she ends up in poses another threat to her freedom. In South Carolina, though the practices were radically better than Georgia, she finds that doctors are “persuading” young black women to be on birth control or forcing them to terminate pregnancies, showing that an underhanded abuse through sterilization is rampant.

After a close call with her pursuer, Cora ends up in North Carolina, where daily hangings in the town square are a source of entertainment. Cora can hear the clapping from her cell in an abolitionist’s attic. Juxtaposed with South Carolina, where blacks were largely free, or so it seemed, North Carolina appears completely outlandish.

This is the unique quality of the novel. By creating such different circumstances in each state, Whitehead is able to create a story where hangings and public displays of anti-slavery sentiment seem rash, when in reality, this was a rampant practice throughout the south during the pre-Civil War era. By fictionalizing certain elements of the novel, Whitehead turns our understanding of ‘acceptable’ upside down. As the book progresses, the reader is inclined to accept that South Carolina, with its own set of problems, was better. When in reality, none of the places Cora lands in are acceptable for her.

Whitehead created the novel around the idea that the Underground Railroad was just that, a true railroad. In reality, the Underground Railroad was a series of houses. Here, it is similar, although there are stations under houses, where escapees can follow to their next destination. I didn’t find that the railroad concept added much to the story, aside from muddying the waters of ‘then’ and ‘now’ further to show the reader how prevalent these sentiments are.

Overall, I thought the book was thought-provoking and different. It brought certain questions about antebellum America to the surface while stifling others. It also strayed from the typical slave-memoir format, and featured a protagonist who was fearful, but never cowed in the face of fear, which may seem unrealistic. Cora’s determination is palpable, and her journey is one worth following.

books · Science/ Alternative Fiction

Book Review: The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

There has been a lot of hype around The Handmaid’s Tale lately, particularly in the relativity of this story to modern society and female rights.

My train of contemplation throughout this novel strayed towards human nature: the lack of it, the necessity for it, the justification of it in any and all human societies. What we learn in this novel is that no matter what confines or liberties are put forth to a group of people, or on one person, there is always the uncontrollable element of desire and the inclination towards what is deemed natural.

Nature versus nurture is a long-debated paradox in psychology, but if there was ever a definitive justification for the dominance of nature, it is The Handmaid’s Tale.

Offred is living in the dystopian country of Gilead, where women like her serve one purpose – to reproduce for the family to which they are assigned. Children they bear are not their own, they belong to the “wives” for which they serve.

The society is dominated by archaic rules that condemn women to a life without reading or writing, learning or socializing. Relations between men and women are strictly sexual in scheduled encounters. Though these rules are stringent and the consequences are dire, each character in the novel gives in to their natural desires at some point throughout, giving credence to the idea that although culture can change, human autonomy withstands tests of its strength.

Left wanting more from this novel, I’m looking forward to the sequel that is set to be released in September 2019. I believe that the reasons I’m intrigued, however, resonate with the same inclination towards understanding human nature that the novel surrounds. I have the urge to fit the pieces together and find out how the resolution of conflict plays out in the characters’ lives, rather than a need to understand the potential political upheaval that Atwood creates which could, in our reality, so similarly affect even the most secure of societies.

My interest lies in the humanity- the relationships. Is Offred pregnant? Was her Commander really such a bad guy, or was he primarily good, but drunk with power and circumstance? Does Moira rest on her laurels or continue to fight?

I raced through this book with the constant desire to reach some understanding, I’m not sure of what. I don’t think resolution is really meant to be achieved. This book is not written to make you feel good or resolve fears, but to create them. There is no validation that humanity will will out over any adversity it is faced with. Coming to the close of the story and finding no answers to the great questions of our nature, I moved on, feeling a little deflated and wary of our potential as individuals and as societal beings.

Really interesting and makes me want to have a stern talk with my fiancé about my post-apocalyptic rights.