Wall

(em português → sol2070.in/2024/04/ficcao-climatica-the-wall/ )

John Lanchester's “The Wall” (2019) is a powerful piece of climate fiction. Without didacticism, it throws us straight into the dystopia, decades in the future, of "an island nation, something like England" where all young people, including women, have to serve two years in the military at a wall that has closed off the country.

We follow young Joseph Kavanagh from his first day in the service to developments that go far beyond the initial premise.

For those unfamiliar with the consequences of the current climate emergency, there is a certain mystery and suspense. The causes that led to the situation or the nature of the main threat are only commented on indirectly. Because the scenario, from the narrator's point of view, doesn't need to be explained.

Even so, being familiar with the predictions of what will happen in a decade or two is not a requirement for reading. The book simply works as a sweeping dystopian journey, with remarkable twists and turns and sub-genres such as romance, coming of age and survival adventure.

As well as being memorably well-written and creating a totally immersive world, another merit is that it not only shows this side of the wall, but also delves into the other side.

It is all too easy to accept the world created by Lanchester in this novel set in a post climate disaster dystopia. The setting is not too far fetched, particularly when you look at the medieval instincts those in power have signed onto around the world over the last several years. But the realism at work in this novel goes beyond its fantasy scenario and expresses itself through the inner life of the protagonist, which I would argue is the real story Lanchester is telling.

Kavanagh is an alienated figure, in the Marxist sense. He is disconnected from agency over his existence, from the acts of violence he must commit for his job (training "takes over"), from the ability to define his relationships with the people around him, even from the very passage of time, which is mostly a torture of duration. All of this is a result of living in a strictly hierarchical society. A society where his activities are dictated by another (the bourgeoisie).

When you track this inner story, the one about the alienated figure in search of his species-essence (Gattungswesen) while competing for survival, the novel really opens up and has an inevitable and yet surprising end. For those who have read (don't worry, no spoilers), the wikipedia definition of Gattungswesen:

"...the intrinsic human mental essence that is characterized by a "plurality of interests" and "psychological dynamism", whereby every individual has the desire and the tendency to engage in the many activities that promote mutual human survival and psychological well-being, by means of emotional connections with other people, with society."

The ending, with that definition in mind, works brilliantly. It also highlights the power of narrative to (re)gain species-essence. When you recite a narrative you provide both nourishment for your community of listeners and agency over its fabula.

So while the story may come off as a Game of Thrones spin off I believe there is a lot more under the surface than it seems to be getting credit for (at least here on GR, I mean it DID get longlisted for the Booker) and I do recommend this.

Besides the good story, well told, this book is a masterclass in how to structure and pace a novel. The author clearly knows how to edit, as this is just the right length. So many books start well, but outstay their welcome. It is a cracking good read.

The story is familiar to anyone who enjoys dystopian speculative fiction (Atwood et al.). It echoes the recent BBC Radio 4 play 'Borderland' (www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b08dnhjx), with themes of migration and what happens when nationalism and nativism lead governments into unravelling the social contract. One of the points of the book is that if we allow our government to treat 'the Others' as undesirables without rights, then in so doing we enable a process whereby our own rights are discarded. The distinction between us (with comfort and prosperity) and the others (facing insecurity and death) becomes a bureaucratic distinction. Too easily, we can find ourselves on the wrong side of The Wall.

The book appears to be about climate change, and inter-generational strife, but these themes are, I think, incidental to the plot. Which I hope allows for the possibility of a sequel that digs into those issues more thoroughly.