Scan barcode
A review by jackroche
Imago by Octavia E. Butler
adventurous
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
For both this volume and the series as a whole.
Unfortunately, my least favorite of the trilogy. After Akin developed into such a unique character in “Adulthood Rites”, I was really hoping for a “where are they now” update like we got with Lilith; the idea of the roaming male construct is even acknowledged diegetically as a unique phenomenon in the world, so it’s disappointing the thread was left dangling. Maybe I wouldn’t have minded if Jodahs weren’t a noticeably less compelling protagonist than either Lilith or Akin; gone is the internal conflict over the validity of the Oankali-human project, replaced with grappling with physiological need. Butler’s take on biological essentialism remains one of the thorniest and most fascinating parts of the series, so I understand the urge to center that conflict internally, but it feels like an ultimately less fruitful central conflict. We see lifelong mating, even described as “love”, driven almost entirely by circumstance, timing, and “pheromones”. That’s cool - and bleak - but doesn’t feel as rich as the questions of survival from earlier in the series. Then again, the frustration I felt toward the anticlimactic acquiescence of the last human resisters is probably the good kind of frustration; there’s a cynicism underlying that choice, a feeling that we’re all domesticable, which contrasts with the “at peace with it all” tone of the writing.
It’s a continued expression of one of my favorite threads from Adulthood Rites - in “the trade” what are we really losing? Butler’s portrayal of “the contradiction” is unambiguously negative, and the Oankali’s intentions are never less than pure even at their most misguided. Sure, there’s the idea of human independence, but if the species was doomed before and improving now, what’s the damage, really? What, then, one must ask, are we really giving up? This is where, upon further reflection, I think adulthood rites solidifies itself as my favorite by filling in these essential gaps. I’d argue one of the most important moments of the series is when Akin travels with Gabe Rinaldi and witnesses him perform King Lear from memory. He’s bewitched, and startled; he’s never encountered anything like it before. It’s an echo of when he calls human mythology “lies”, and when Butler describes oankali fascination with human storytelling. Not only is artistic expression foreign to the Oankali, but it seems to be linked directly to humanity’s propensity to lie, to fabricate, things we can only do because of our disconnection. We witness references to Oankali “work” and, like everything, it’s fundamentally tied to “the trade”. Of course, most human jobs aren’t much better, but even Oankali pleasure is derived so strictly from these functions - identifying and manipulating genes, reproduction. The most touching relationships are between “paired siblings”, a closeness we understand most clearly, again, in “Adulthood Rites” when we see Akin jealously observe what’s been stripped of him, and while those are biochemical they are also rooted in a shared understanding - something humans sorely lack. This ties to the Oankali idea of consensus, which humans, with their individuality, can’t accept - and is also tied to our sense of hope, which, in other fiction, is among our most frequently valorized tendencies as a species. Is everything we gain from our difference - art, hope, love rooted not in biology but understanding precisely because it is difficult for us to attain, all a delusion? Is our ultimate defeat a blessing in disguise, our insistence on the importance of our independence yet another manifestation of “the contradiction?”
Other thoughts:
- the Oankali and constructs subtly becoming more confrontational over the course of the series as the humans influence them more
- a stray remark in Dawn suggesting ooloi “seem male”, likely linked to oolois’ “dominant” position in a civilization which does not recognize dominance and the relative similarity of “male” and “female”
- the changing role of Nikanj, the most important figure in the series that isn’t a protagonist of any given novel. It is the first fallible Oankali we meet, yet as it grows into a wise, guiding figure, we can reflect and see the ways the early Oankali elders were fallible as well
Unfortunately, my least favorite of the trilogy. After Akin developed into such a unique character in “Adulthood Rites”, I was really hoping for a “where are they now” update like we got with Lilith; the idea of the roaming male construct is even acknowledged diegetically as a unique phenomenon in the world, so it’s disappointing the thread was left dangling. Maybe I wouldn’t have minded if Jodahs weren’t a noticeably less compelling protagonist than either Lilith or Akin; gone is the internal conflict over the validity of the Oankali-human project, replaced with grappling with physiological need. Butler’s take on biological essentialism remains one of the thorniest and most fascinating parts of the series, so I understand the urge to center that conflict internally, but it feels like an ultimately less fruitful central conflict. We see lifelong mating, even described as “love”, driven almost entirely by circumstance, timing, and “pheromones”. That’s cool - and bleak - but doesn’t feel as rich as the questions of survival from earlier in the series. Then again, the frustration I felt toward the anticlimactic acquiescence of the last human resisters is probably the good kind of frustration; there’s a cynicism underlying that choice, a feeling that we’re all domesticable, which contrasts with the “at peace with it all” tone of the writing.
It’s a continued expression of one of my favorite threads from Adulthood Rites - in “the trade” what are we really losing? Butler’s portrayal of “the contradiction” is unambiguously negative, and the Oankali’s intentions are never less than pure even at their most misguided. Sure, there’s the idea of human independence, but if the species was doomed before and improving now, what’s the damage, really? What, then, one must ask, are we really giving up? This is where, upon further reflection, I think adulthood rites solidifies itself as my favorite by filling in these essential gaps. I’d argue one of the most important moments of the series is when Akin travels with Gabe Rinaldi and witnesses him perform King Lear from memory. He’s bewitched, and startled; he’s never encountered anything like it before. It’s an echo of when he calls human mythology “lies”, and when Butler describes oankali fascination with human storytelling. Not only is artistic expression foreign to the Oankali, but it seems to be linked directly to humanity’s propensity to lie, to fabricate, things we can only do because of our disconnection. We witness references to Oankali “work” and, like everything, it’s fundamentally tied to “the trade”. Of course, most human jobs aren’t much better, but even Oankali pleasure is derived so strictly from these functions - identifying and manipulating genes, reproduction. The most touching relationships are between “paired siblings”, a closeness we understand most clearly, again, in “Adulthood Rites” when we see Akin jealously observe what’s been stripped of him, and while those are biochemical they are also rooted in a shared understanding - something humans sorely lack. This ties to the Oankali idea of consensus, which humans, with their individuality, can’t accept - and is also tied to our sense of hope, which, in other fiction, is among our most frequently valorized tendencies as a species. Is everything we gain from our difference - art, hope, love rooted not in biology but understanding precisely because it is difficult for us to attain, all a delusion? Is our ultimate defeat a blessing in disguise, our insistence on the importance of our independence yet another manifestation of “the contradiction?”
Other thoughts:
- the Oankali and constructs subtly becoming more confrontational over the course of the series as the humans influence them more
- a stray remark in Dawn suggesting ooloi “seem male”, likely linked to oolois’ “dominant” position in a civilization which does not recognize dominance and the relative similarity of “male” and “female”
- the changing role of Nikanj, the most important figure in the series that isn’t a protagonist of any given novel. It is the first fallible Oankali we meet, yet as it grows into a wise, guiding figure, we can reflect and see the ways the early Oankali elders were fallible as well