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Fantasy. Fiction. HTML:Winner of the Nebula Award for Best Novel: The powerful and compelling sequel to the dystopian classic Parable of the Sower Lauren Olamina was only eighteen when her family was killed, and anarchy encroached on her Southern California home. She fled the war zone for the hope of quiet and safety in the north. There she founded Acorn, a peaceful community based on a religion of her creation, called Earthseed, whose central tenet is that God is change. Five years later, Lauren has married a doctor and given birth to a daughter. Acorn is beginning to thrive. But outside the tranquil group's walls, America is changing for the worse. Presidential candidate Andrew Steele Jarret wins national fame by preaching a return to the values of the American golden age. To his marauding followers, who are identified by their crosses and black robes, this is a call to arms to end religious tolerance and racial equalityā??a brutal doctrine they enforce by machine gun. And as this band of violent extremists sets its deadly sights on Earthseed, Acorn is plunged into a harrowing fight for its very survival. Taking its place alongside Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, Butler's eerily prophetic novel offers a terrifying vision of our potential future, but also one of hope. This ebook features an illustrated biography of Octavia E. Butler including rare images from the author's estate.… (more)
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Well, thatās a perky start of a review, right?
But thereās a point. For Butlerās book is very much the right read at the right time for me, giving me some glimpses of insights that feel very important. āParable of the Talentsā follows the events of Lauren and her little group after they found the enclave Acorn, making it the centre of the new faith, Earthseed. They are successful, even prosperous, until a new president of the wobbly United States is elected, a hateful bigot who wants to rebuild Americaās greatness by trampling the different. Earthseed is looked upon as a satanic cult, and cannot avoid the presidentās āCrusadersā forever. When the strike comes, itās crueler than anyone could foresee.
Butler paints a very cruel, bleak world, a recognizable America in free fall, where human lives are cheap and getting by is hard. But Talents is, more than anything, a book about prevailing. About getting by. About trying again. About finding dignity in the most trying of circumstances. And as such, as a book pointing out that human existence can be worthy, meaningful, even beautiful even in the shittiest of worlds, it resonates strongly with me: If we fail, if donāt make it, if weāre heading towards a world five or six degrees warmer, with melted poles and scorched lands, there might be lives worth living there too.
On the other hand, I realize that the ultimate goal the Earthseed faith paints, the dream of a humankind surviving by taking to the stars, leaves me totally cold. The idea of man spreading to other parts of the universe, at the risk of repeating the same mistakes, holds very little comfort for me. I come to understand, however superficially, that my love is for this planet, rather than mankind per se. Not a bad bunch of insights to get from 430 pages of science fiction, eh?
As a book, Talents has all the same qualities that āParable of the Sowerā had: a strong sense of setting and character in a no-nonsense kind of way. Itās brutal in the same way (which may deter some). In the end though, it doesnāt quite take full responsibility for itās setup. The storyline of Lauren and her lost daughter (who is telling the story) never seems to become all it could be. Thereās a tiny sense of anticlimax in the end. But the road there is pretty damn stunning.
Butler's response to the fictional world that she's created here is also interesting. Earthseed, the commune or philosophical movement founded by Lauren Olamina, the character at the center of the book, proposes that in order to mature, humanity must literally reach for the stars: we must set our collective sights on the colonization of space. Butler's more concerned, I think, than the inner lives of her characters than with the particulars of space travel, but she makes an interesting point about the psychological usefulness of this sort of grand scientific project. Humans, she seems to argue, always need a horizon to sail toward, and science will be the boat on which we'll reach it. Butler's arguments reminded me of some of the arguments that rock writer Simon Reynolds makes in his recent "Retromania," in which he links a innovation in music with a culture-wide fascination with space travel and new technology.
Finally, I want to emphasize that "The Parable of the Talents" isn't just a novel of ideas, or a thought experiment in book form. True, like much speculative fiction, the book is light on what might be called "cultural detail," there are no songs or slang or movies or other cultural products that we, as readers, usually use to identify a book's time frame. There are very few stray bits of twentieth century culture hanging around here: in fact, Olamina herself suggests that society has reverted entirely to the technological level of the nineteenth century, if not earlier. Instead of making the book seem less-than realistic, though, it seems to emphasize its characters' personalities and the immediacy of the problems they face. Butler's narrative voice is clear and strong, an indirect third shaped by Lauren Olamina, a charismatic community leader turned new-age preacher working to revivify a post-Christian American society. She's a genuinely fascinating and often admirable figure, though the author suggests in an interview included with my edition of this novel that she took care not to make her main character too perfect. Still, it sometimes seems that "The Parable of the Talents" is held together by little more than Olamina's enormous will. Butler's a skillfull enough, as a writer, that she almost forces you to care about the members of the embryotic Earthseed community she describes here, and the descriptions of the psychological trauma that almost every character in this book is made to endure are often genuinely heartbreaking. In "The Parable of the Talents," Butler initiates an interesting and even necessary conversation about the ultimate fate of the human race by showing the frighteningly believable costs of refusing to participate in a larger discussion about we, as a species, are headed right now. Recommended. I'll be picking up more of Butler's work in the near future.
In Parable of the Sowers Olivia Butler created a world that seemed a mere step away from our own: corrupt cops, climate change, walled communities for those who could afford it, homelessness and violence for those who couldn't. In Parable of the Talents, that world felt even closer. Despite having been published in 1998, the election of an ultraconservative president who promised security and stability at the cost of individual rights was scarily prescient. That Jarret uses the slogan ā³Make America Great Againā³ made it impossible for me to think of the fictitious president without thinking of the all too real one. Certainly readers in 2021 will have a completely different reading experience than those who read it in 1998.
In Talents, one of the themes that is explored in more detail is how a single charismatic leader can ignite a religious movement. Lauren Olamina starts writing down "truths" as a teenager and in Sowers gathers enough followers to start a community. In Talents she has to abandon her plan of creating a network of communities and envision a new way of spreading the Earthseed doctrine. I found the initial descriptions of God is Change to be compelling, but felt by the end of Talents that Butler was struggling to write the religious "excerpts."
A major change between the two books is the shift from a single first person narrative to multiple. Talents is narrated by Lauren's daughter, but the majority of the book is told in Lauren's voice through journal entries, a technique familiar to readers from Sowers. Excerpts from writings by Lauren's daughter's father and uncle are also included when needed to provide additional perspective. It sounds confusing, but it works well and flows smoothly.
Once again, Butler impresses with her crisp writing, well-developed characters, and matter-of-fact tone. Originally intended to be one book, the Parable books are best read back to back. At the time of her death, the author intended to write a third and final installation in the series, but the two books stand on their own. I didn't feel as though the reader was left hanging. I would highly recommend the Parable books for anyone who enjoyed The Handmaidā²s Tale. Note that both works, but especially the Parable books should have trigger warnings for rape, child abduction, and violence.
Once again Butler brazenly approaches ideas of religion and politics, but this time the novel is less hopeful, even less spiritual in tone. The sections from the daughter's perspective are touched with bitter flavor, as the character struggles to come to terms with her mother's persona and the religious relationships that she has no part in. Ultimately, this is a novel about suffering, from multiple viewpoints, and about reality.
That reality angle may seem a hard sell when one considers that this is a science-fiction-post-apocalyptic-near-future novel, but the way Butler has framed both the circumstances in which the characters find themselves and the extreme attitudes of some of the people they face will ring eerily true for 21st century readers, at least those who have been paying attention to the religio-political rhetoric that has been flying around in the US recently. For a novel published in the nineties, it feels impeccably timely.
This is not an easy novel to read. The characters are harder -- life's experiences have made them that way -- and the events are even more horrific to witness, but as with any good future fiction, there are important messages to comprehend here. Perhaps even more importantly, there are vivid people and complex ideas to face -- the sheer magnitude of Butler's skill never fails to impress. There were some frustrating moments in the process, but this is absolutely worth reading. Recommended.
The novel structure is similar to the first one - we are reading the journals of Lauren Olamina but we also get some entries from Bankole and a few more people and the entries we are getting are not selected by Lauren but by her daughter, at some point in the future, who also adds her own story and commentary at the start of each chapter. It is a slow start - the daughter story comes in pieces, not to spoil the story coming from the journals. And that's where something with the pacing seems to fall apart - the first quarter of the book sounds like the first book, except slower and more boring, as if Lauren herself selects what to publish/show.
The story picks up in 2032, 5 years after we left Acorn and its inhabitants. They had somehow survived and even if they are not exactly thriving, they had managed to make a life for themselves. After slogging through them surviving, living through an election that should not have finished as it did (reading this in 2021 makes me wonder what kind of crystal ball did Butler have...) and through more of the new religion Earthseed, the story finally picks up when Acorn is destroyed. While I can see why we needed that first part, it could have been a lot shorter and concise - the first book had most of it already and did it better... And then Larkin is born, Acorn falls and Butler finally gets to writing the story of Earthseed and Lauren Olamina.
Suffering, betrayals, people coming back after being considered dead, people dying when you least expect it and a lot of misery and heartbreak. The United States of the 2030s is anything but a happy place. But people survive and fight for their future and families. It is a cruel world, ran by zealots and idiots and it does not seem to be getting any better. But there is always a hope somewhere in there - as long as people can see future for their children, they will keep fighting.
And then there is the cult/religion Earthseed. We know that it did not die - Larkin knows about it and considers it her mother's favorite child. It is unclear early on if it is because it got widespread or because she is writing a paper about something in the past but the hints are all there. And despite it driving the story and is the point of the story, it still did not sit well with me - Lauren was getting almost zealot-ish in places, carrying more about an idea than about a person (despite what she was writing/saying, her actions showed something different). I disliked her in the first novel and I am not sure I liked her here either.
We get most of the story post-2035 only in the last chapter - I kept reading because I wanted that story. It did not disappoint but it kinda highlighted the pacing issue.
I wonder how much of my opinion of the book got colored by my expectations. I usually do not have issues with slow moving books but something here was off from the start. It felt like a book that should move faster but somehow failed to as opposed to being designed to be slow.
Still, it was worth reading. But I still find the first one to be the better book.
Olamina had founded a religion known as Earthseed, with the basic tenet being āGod is Changeā. She
But the true threat comes when a right wing fascist President is elected. His slogan is āMake America Great Againā (this was written in 1998!) He brings with him a brand of Christian fundamentalism that teaches that only turning to Christian extremism will pacify God and save the world. Those who donāt believe, are targeted by extreme vigilante groups. Naturally Earthseed falls, becomes a concentration camp, and the children are removed to appropriate Christian homes.
Even Laurenās long lost brother, Marcus, becomes a leader in this brand of far right Christianity.
āGod is Changeā and the twists and turns as the story unfolds embody this.
I was amazed by the presentience of this novel, as it examines climate change and the resulting political and societal change leading to more death and destruction.
Trigger alert for those of us still recovering from the presidency of 2016-2020: the primary source of darkness is a right wing President who ran on the slogan "make America great again", around whom grew an army of modern-day Christian Crusaders. Butler's 1998 portrayal of the breadth and depths of the roots of the movement is frighteningly spot on.
One other side note: every chapter of both books begin with poems from Olamina's Book of Earthseed. While they did not do much for me, I was intrigued by their similarity to the poetry of St Theresa of Avila.
Highly recommended. We are awash in dystopian fiction, but few have the richness and inner core of Butler duology.
Also, the Earthseed philosophy, which was about embracing change and chaos,
My final nitpick is that within a few pages Earthseed goes from being a few ragged vagabonds wandering the US byways to a multi-million dollar organisation building interstellar craft to take their people to new planets. The jump is too sudden.
I really could not get over how prescient the story telling was, considering that it was written in the
And then there is the overarching issue of our hero, Lauren, who is admirable in many ways, but also with the flaws of any leader seeking power, and the difficult mother-daughter dynamic that sets up.
Parable of the Talents was an interesting read, and Lauren is one of the strongest female characters I've ever encountered, but Octavia Butler writes dystopian literature so well, and so grim, that it kind of weighed me down to read it. Still, a fascinating and unique story
But Butlerās story is one of hope too: of a prophet leading her people toward a better future, following a spiritual practice that makes more sense to me than most organized religions I know of, and of a goal ā to sow the seeds of humanity throughout space ā that I have always believed held the key to our survival as a species. God is change, indeed, but instead of fighting it or surrendering to it, just recognize it and use it to make your goals a reality. This message is contained within a work of fiction that paint a frightening picture of the future, but it rings very true to me.
However, Parable of the Talents was very slow. The story was not as tightly woven as the first book. The set up of having Larkin/Asha Vere do a little intro for chapters from Olamina's journal did not work for me. I felt like everything was in the past and I kept waiting for something to happen in the present. And I didn't care that Larkin/Asha didn't like her mother that she never knew or that she was jealous of Earthseed. Also, although Earthseed seemed like a believable belief system in "Sower," in "Talents," the Destiny just seemed silly to me.
The ending was not satisfying. I'm glad Olamina and Larkin/Ahsa were able to find some sort of normalcy and peace instead of suffering the rest of their lives, but I didn't care all that much.
Olamina's first Earthseed community, Acorn, is thriving and slowly growing when extremists come in and destroy it. The adults
Each of Olamina's journal entries is prefaced with words from her now-adult, estranged daughter. Each encapsulates how the women survived and kept on in a difficult world and their eventual reunion.
There is hope, bitterness, grief, and joy in this novel. It is not action-packed but still is engaging. In a general way, it reminds me of titles such as The Road, Oryx & Crake, etc. I found Olamina to be the most interesting character in her refusal to give up on life, on change, on hope - no matter what she or others suffered. Some may say she was narrow in her views or obsessive, but she didnt just care about her vision - she cared about others and their condition - to me, that is honorable.
To sum up, read it - after you read the 1st one (Parable of the Sower).
I particularly enlightened by the section addressing the breakdown of the public education system. Acorn community citizens were able to educate each other. I am intrigued by the concept that in a collapsing society, poor children will not get education they deserve. Public education will come to an end, and it will only be available to the wealthy, and through private and religious organizations. I think this is relevent due to deteriorating economic conditions in the US and elsewhere.
There wwere some good survivalist tenets also, like cacheing? supplies and money, salvage, and general self reliance.
This is a story of the efforts of Lauren Oya Olamina
Join us and thrive, or whatever happens to you as a result of your own sinful stubborness is your problem.
The clash between Earthseed and Christian America is inevitable. The consequences are tragic. I had a hard time putting this book down.
The book opens with the voice of Olamina's daughter Asha, and Asha's anger with her mother is clear. Asha has compiled pages from her mother's and father Bankole's journals in an attempt to understand them and to understand herself. It's clear from the start that while she can find sympathy for the father she never met, she has little sympathy for her mother.
As the book unfolds, we still are presented with Olamina's voice the most in the form of her journal entries, and she is fascinating as ever in her persistent pursuit of making the Earthseed religion a reality. She's powerful, brave, driven, and almost blinded by her drive, but she is also loving and caring toward her family and friends.
Through the words of Asha, Olamina, and Bankole, we see how Earthseed grows from a few words written in a notebook into a full community and cult, which is nearly wiped out. The journey is fascinating and it's compelling to see an imagining of how a religion (or cult, depending on your point of view) can be born and grow followers.
Like with Parable of the Sower, a trigger warning should go out to those uncomfortable with violence and rape, both of which appear in abundance within the book. Violence appears many times in this book, but again, there is hope in the way people come together and find ways to preserve their humanity in horrifying situations.
But also, like Sower, Butler writing and storytelling offer a grim, and occasionally bleak, but ultimately hopeful tale that might have failed in less skilled hands. While I didn't love it as much as the first, it is a fantastic book and one I also recommend.
The only pity is that Butler never had a chance to continue with this series, which I have heard would have continued Earthseed's journey by having its followers attain their goal of populating the stars. It would have been fascinating to see how these people carried this religion into new worlds, and how their society changed and grew as generations build communities on new worlds. I suppose, since it was never written, that I will just have to imagine what might have been.
The post-cataclysmic world in which Olamina is struggling to build a community and find a way to spread her philosophy of Earthseed is one in which the government is in the process of being taken over by a fundamentalist denomination known as Christian America, education has become a luxury or something that must be arranged privately, and the poor routinely find themselves sold into slavery, and all of it is frighteningly believable. I can't comment on how possible it all seemed when it was first published, but thirteen years later it strikes me as one of the most prescient books that I've ever read.
And yet, as dark as the book is, so full of violence and despair, it ends with hope. Olamina begins to find supporters at the end of the book's main timeline; in the farther-future timeline, in which her daughter pieces together bits of her mother's journal along with occasional additions from her father and her uncle in order to tell the story, we are told that Christian America is now just one denomination among many. Although a CA family might believe that a woman who moves out of her parents' house before marrying is more or less a prostitute, there's no law that keeps her from doing so. She's not the property of her father until she becomes the property of her husband, and neither does a male guardian have to manage her finances or own/rent the place where she lives. In short, America did not go the way of The Handmaid's Tale. And if the chaos just sort of passing and normality returning might seem narratively strange, without the drama of massive resistance movements, it also seems quite natural in its way that the country would just reject the CA movement when it became clear they did not have the answers.