Son

“Their attention, she sensed, was not on her, not really. They worried about the Product […] Her last sensation was the awareness, pain-free, of something cutting into her belly. Carving her.”

Claire notices that she is not the focus of attention when she is giving birth to Gabe, who has yet to be named. Rather, the doctors are more concerned about the safety and viability of the Product, presumably to ensure the continuation of the community. In this way, the purpose of being a Vessel is no different from any other assignment, in that it is a job that needs to have a specific goal, a goal which is then separate from the person accomplishing that action. The way in which the leaders of the community go about attempting to separate the person from their action is through control of the language. Claire’s child is not referred to as a living being, but rather exists as a Product, inherently capitalist language that attempts to sever the relationship between mother and son. At this point, Gabe is merely something that Claire produces. The leaders then attempt to limit any notion of this product as being her; rather, it is something that can be shared with the community at-large.

“He, she thought as she packed the few personal items that she had. It was a he. I produced a baby boy. I had a son. The feeling of loss overwhelmed her again.” 

The author uses language in order to demonstrate the unbreakable link between Claire and her son, suggesting in some ways that biological impulses can overwhelm societal norms. This is interesting considering Claire has been raised with the notion that any Product she produces is not her own; therefore, it would not make sense for her to think of Gabe as her son in terms of what her society has told her. Nonetheless, Claire feels drawn to Gabe, as though her innate maternal instincts override whatever learning has been forced upon her. It is again interesting that she uses the word son to describe her child, even though from her society’s perspective, Gabe is not her son. Rather, the leaders have altered the language so that a son or daughter must be associated with a couple. And yet Claire still uses this language in order to describe her relationship with the Product. However, Claire also uses past tense language in order to describe her son, specifically referencing Gabe’s birth. She does not, for example, go on to say that she has a son, but rather she had one, who was then taken away from her. The author uses the past tense in order to convey Claire’s sense of loss, which is inextricably linked to her maternal instincts.

“She shrugged and removed another dead egg from the second tray. ‘We have to take them out so they don’t contaminate the good ones. I check them every day.’ Claire felt a vague discomfort. The insemination had gone wrong. Was that what had happened to her? Had her Product, like the discolored, eyeless egg, been thrown aside someplace? But no. They had told her that number Thirty-six was ‘fine.’” 

Claire looks to her environment in order to try to make sense of the tragedy that she feels has befallen her. When she works with the fish eggs, she is concerned at the idea that problematic ones are discarded, as she knows that complications had arisen during 36’s birth. For a moment, she wonders whether 36 himself was discarded, but then remembers that the council had informed her that he was fine. Part of this concern stems from the disembodied nature of the language surrounding childbirth, as Claire recognizes—albeit subconsciously—that the lack of individuality of the members or the community allows for them to easily be discarded. There seems to be no one that truly cares for one another, therefore putting each individual’s lives within the community inherently at risk. If noone cares for you, then noone would be concerned if you were to go missing. This idea exists as a core tenet of the council’s ability to control members of the community through fear. The complete detachment evident within the language used by the community severs any emotional connection community members might create. The author implies, then, that individual safety inherently stems from emotional connections to other people. Once a community loses sight of this tenet, order easily breaks down as people—even those as previously obedient as Claire—break rules in order to establish emotional connections to other people.

“Even if it might be against the rules, some kind of infringement […] there would be no way for anyone to get caught in the act of wondering, Claire thought. It was an invisible thing, like a secret. She herself spent a great deal of time at it […] wondering.” 

Claire finds a way around all of the rules of her community simply by realizing that the leaders cannot monitor her thoughts. Although all of her actions and speech are under constant surveillance in an attempt to control her behavior, the leaders are as yet unable to control her daydreams, especially those regarding the wellbeing and possible future of her child. Here, the author uses the language of visibility to denote that which cannot be controlled; as long as something stays invisible, it is up to the individual’s discretion. Implicit within this argument, then, lies the idea that individuals lack agency regarding visible things. Therefore, invisibility is inherently aligned with a kind of individual agency. Similarly, Claire equates things that are invisible with secrets, as though secrets cannot be seen and therefore cannot be punished. It is important to Claire, then, to uphold the appearance of abiding by the rules while secretly and invisibly working to thwart the community’s attempt to sever her relationship with her son.

“Well, Claire decided abruptly, she would lie once again. Against the rules. She knew that. Once, she would have cared. Now she didn’t. As simple as that. And it was just a small lie.” 

Once Claire decides to break the rules, it becomes easier and easier for her to follow this rebellious path. However, it is important to note that Claire is not a rebel by nature; rather, it is her positionality as Gabe’s mother and the emotional bond therein that causes her to rebel against the norms of her community. This decision is as abrupt as it is conclusive; Claire does not experience the usual struggle that one faces when one goes against the rules of one’s community. Rather, her maternal bond to Gabe is so all-encompassing that she immediately feels that rebellion is her only course of action, albeit a fairly passive one at that. The act of lying, of course, exists merely as rebellious speech, one that she can rationalize as being fairly small in comparison to other things. In reality, her decision to develop a relationship with her son consists of rebellions much greater than a simple lie, as her actions are what the community strives to repress. The emphasis on the illegal nature of lying, then, serves to demonstrate how the community attempts to suppress inefficient actions through language itself: essentially, the community controls individuals’ language in an attempt to control their actions. This method of control indicates a link between language and action, wherein rebellious language inevitably fosters rebellious action. The two become inextricably linked to one another throughout the novel. As the community is unable to control the language used by Claire, it is ultimately unable to control the actions of its people as well.

“Claire was quiet. She didn’t say this, but she was thinking: I am. I am lonely. Even as she thought it, she realized she didn’t really understand what it meant.”

Claire’s sense of loneliness pervades her character; she has never really felt an emotional connection to another person before. Her son, Gabe, is the first person she feels emotionally bonded with, but this bond does not come from working on the relationship. Rather, the relationship she feels is biological, more instinct than choice. It is this emotional, instinctual connection to her son that causes Claire to question the rest of her reality; it is her characterization as a mother that then shapes her worldview.

“It was forbidden to cross [the bridge] without special permission, and she had no idea what lay beyond, on the other side. There was nothing visible but trees. It was simply Elsewhere. She had heard people say that occasionally, though rarely, small groups were taken to visit other communities. But perhaps it was just a rumor. Claire herself had never known anyone who had seen Elsewhere.”

In order to control the inhabitants of the community, the community leaders effectively make everything and everyone outside of the community forbidden. There is no knowledge of what exists outside of the community. It is simply referred to as Elsewhere, with no indication as to what this word truly means. Claire interrogates the difference between that which is visible and that which is unseen within the context of Elsewhere. Throughout the novel, the author associates that which is seen with that which is known, identifying sight as the paramount sense in regard to knowledge. Therefore, the only thing that Claire knows about Elsewhere is that it has trees. Claire is familiar with the rumor that other people have travelled to Elsewhere but because she has never seen this happen, she does not believe that it’s necessarily true. More importantly, she knows of no one who has ever seen Elsewhere, and therefore believes that no one has ever visited there, again equating sight with knowledge and experience.

“She remembered hearing that the parents of the lost child, Caleb, had been chastised. It was the job of parental units to protect their children from harm. Caleb’s parents had not performed well. Yet this boy’s father had thrown him into deep water, and laughed; and now he himself laughed at the memory. It seemed so strange.” 

Here, the author explains the emotional distance between all members of the community, even those who are assigned to be a family. The parents of the drowned child do not seem to mourn his death; rather, they feel more embarrassment and shame because his death means that they were not acting responsibly as parents. Their job as his parents is solely to protect him from harm; there is no mention of love or any kind of emotional attachment. Claire compares this emotional distance to the boatworker’s father, who willingly throws his child into the water to teach him how to swim. However, there is at least some emotion when the boatworker speaks of this incident, as he can now laugh, as his father laughed all those years ago. The audience witnesses the emotional connection between the boatworker and his father in the similarity between their reactions. Although Claire finds their reactions and the situation itself strange, what she also seems confused by is this bond between father and son—something she never experienced with her own parents. However, once Gabe is born, Claire feels this automatic emotional connection to him and realizes that in order to pursue a relationship with her son, she must leave the community.

“Claire frowned. Men’s work? Women’s work? Here in the community, there was no difference.”

The boatworker explains that in other places, such as where he lives, occupations are divided by gender. As such, it is unusual for a woman to work on a boat, as boat work is generally considered a man’s job. However, in Claire’s community, no clear delineation between the genders exists in terms of employment assignments. Everyone is equal within the community as equality takes precedence over all else, especially individuality, and so the idea that a profession would be split among the genders is antithetical to the nature of the community.

“There had been no surprises in her life, or anyone else’s within the community. Just the Assignment Ceremony, at Twelve: the disappointing surprise, then, of being named Birthmother. And later, of course, the shock of her failure.”

Everything within the community is ordered and controlled by the community leaders. Deviations from these regulations are not accepted and people are required to fulfill the proscribed positions set about in the laws. As such, Claire does not face any challenges within her community; as she mentions, there are no surprises. Everything is under the control of the community leaders, removing any concept of individual agency and choice. The only surprise, if it can even be called that, is when the community members receive their assignments at age 12, and this seems to be a usually disappointing surprise if it is a surprise to begin with. However, one of the things that community leaders cannot control is biology, namely Claire’s own body. They cannot control for so-called failures in the placement of Birthmothers. In this way, Claire’s own body becomes a symbol for her rebellion against the totalitarian control of her community leaders, even though this rebellion is not on purpose and in fact shames her deeply. Claire feels as though her body has failed her and that she in turn has failed her community, an embarrassment she would not feel so keenly if she were as emotionally stunted as the rest of the community. However, the mishap involving Claire’s pills, which allows for her emotional connection to her son, also allows for negative feelings associated with her perceived failure as a Birthmother. In this way, Claire demonstrates that even though her body rebels against community regulations and procedures, she still very much abides by these laws and is subject to their scrutiny.

“Now, so well acquainted with this growing, active twelve-month-old boy, she could see clearly that they required more, not less, care as they grew. He had to be watched constantly. Taught language. Fed carefully. Bathed and dressed and […][s]he turned away, feeling tears well in her eyes. What on earth was the matter with her? No one else seemed to feel this kind of passionate attachment to other humans.” 

Claire feels hopeless when she thinks of the futility of achieving a relationship with her son. She scorns her previous thoughts of raising a baby by herself, recognizing her limitations in regard to infant care. However, some of these limitations have been placed there by her own community, as she has not been taught the necessary maternal skills to care for a child, presumably because the community never deemed it necessary to teach her such skills. In fact, teaching anyone other than couples or nurturers how to care for an infant would itself be antithetical to the community’s stringent control of knowledge allotted to their citizens. The community leaders believe that any uncontrolled knowledge—that is, knowledge that does not directly relate to the person’s assignment—can be dangerous. If Claire were to learn how to care for a child, she might be inclined to steal back her son. The community leaders have planned for this, just as they have planned for as many foreseeable problems that can occur when one takes a child away from its mother. Their society’s goal seems to be equality through anonymity, which they achieve through a variety of means in order to subdue the pesky emotional attachments people feel towards their kin. However, as Claire demonstrates, the community leaders’ ability to control their citizens will always be limited, as they themselves are fallible human beings. As such, they make mistakes. Any mistake in terms of social control represents a breeding ground for fomenting rebellion, as Claire’s emotional attachment to her son proves.

“Now and then one stopped, turned, and looked out toward the sea and the horizon with its darkening sky as if searching for the silhouette of a vessel that might have thrown this astonishing gift their way. But there was nothing there but what had always been there: empty ocean the color of pewter, tarnishing to black now as night fell.” 

The gift the villagers in Book 2 refer to is Claire herself. From the very beginning of the novel, Claire is presented as somehow unique—different from the other characters in her community. However, this difference is not necessarily due to a difference in her psyche—as with Jonas, who actively rebels against the community—but rather as a result of her difference in circumstance: her body cannot bear the physical burden of a second pregnancy, and she never has the emotionally-stunting pills prescribed to her. In this way, Claire represents Otherness within her community as a result of environmental happenstance. However, once she arrives at the village in Book 2, this difference in environment becomes exacerbated, as she shares little similarities with anyone else in the village, save perhaps Alys and Einar, although obvious differences emerge between them as well. As a result, Claire is subsequently rendered as Other within the second community as well, which the villagers seem to know immediately and imbue her with an ethereal pseudo-divinity that draws them to her. They are amazed at her differences and want to know more about her. Within this second community, then, differences exist as a source of curiosity and desire. In contrast, Claire’s old community usually dealt with differences by putting people to death. Here, Claire also becomes inextricably linked to the water herself, as though she is born from the sea. She becomes Water Claire, a new being—almost like a mermaid—with nearly no recollection of her past. She is born anew, in a kind of baptism, and cast as a semi-divine creature of mystery and desire as a representative of human curiosity. However, once her past becomes known, Claire loses her mystery and the village turns on her.

“‘Fear dims when you learn things.’” 

Alys tries to teach Claire how to care for the bird Einar brought her, but Claire is terrified of animals. Alys explains to her that the more Claire learns about animals, the less she will fear them. The author identifies fear as coming from a lack of knowledge, although in other places in the novel, it seems as though a lack of knowledge or the mystery enshrouding a specific character, such as Claire herself, draws people to that character. In this way, both knowledge and a lack thereof can be both enticing and foreboding. Similarly, the author suggests that conquering one’s fear is necessary in order to learn new things; however, Claire acknowledges that this process might be painful, just as Claire’s learning of her past memories is painful. In this way, knowledge can be said to be both satisfying and intimidating, dependent completely upon the environment and what the knowledge itself is.

“Alys was troubled by this, for she knew by now that the girl was clever, and filled with knowledge of many things. But she seemed lacking in so many ways, and the realm of colors was one. The names of various hues were one of the first things small children learned.”

In some ways, Claire is childlike, especially after being reborn from the sea. Claire does not seem to know simple ideas, which troubles Alys, as Alys realizes that Claire has lived a very anesthetized life. Alys realizes that Claire’s previous life existed without any kind of vibrancy, save for the terrible trauma Alys knows Claire endured. Claire does not know colors, which the author uses as a symbol to represent emotions throughout the novel. In this way, Alys understands that while Claire has a vast amount of academic types of knowledge, she has little practical knowledge, as though she was not previously allowed to experience life in her old community.

“Claire stood silent, awed by the music, puzzled by the concept of love, and moved both by the solemnity and the celebration of the occasion.”

As Claire watches the marriage ceremony, she is intrigued by the emotions she feels, which seem so palpable within this new community. Here, Claire’s silence is contrasted with the vibrancy of the music. She has never before heard music and is in awe of all of the new experiences, which so sharply contrast life in her old community. However, these new experiences are complicated, as they are both solemn and celebratory. In this way, the new village offers Claire the dynamism of human experience that was so lacking in her previous, static community.

“The skewed face, the laughter with it, made something flood into Claire’s memory, surging upward in her like a wave about to break. She had made that face once, and thought it funny. Someone had made it back to her. But why? Who? […] She felt sick, suddenly, and began to cry.” 

As Claire helps Andras build a scarecrow, Andras makes a face that reminds Claire of the faces she used to make to amuse Gabe. Suddenly, memory floods Claire’s mind and she’s overcome with the tragedy of her previous life, which the emotional repression of her previous community did not allow her to experience. Here, the author interrogates the pain that can be associated with memory, using the language of water to equate memory with pain. However, much like how water is itself difficult to grasp, Claire has difficulty holding onto her memories associated with this specific facial expression. She has many questions that are unanswered by her memory, which she cannot seem to control. Claire then responds with water herself in the form of tears, demonstrating the elusive and slippery quality of memory and experience through water-based language.

“‘But I fear this: that you will not be able to give birth. I think it has been taken from you.’” 

After examining Claire, Alys admits to Claire that she fears the C-section Claire has undergone has rendered Claire infertile. Alys use the language of possession in order to communicate this alteration to Claire’s body, implying that Claire has lost control of her own body. Alys suggests that a nameless force has taken away Claire’s ability to become pregnant, suggesting that Claire is not at fault for this but must still suffer the consequences of other people’s actions. The language Alys uses also implies that Alys view this change as a loss, a negative change that will itself have repercussions for Claire’s future. Alys’s foreboding language preempts the rest of the community’s lack of acceptance of Claire’s condition, especially the men in the community, who once found Claire so irresistible. Here, the audience witnesses the negative ramifications of this community’s societal norms, which differ from Claire’s old community. In Claire’s old community, she was simply reassigned; however, in this new community, Alys implies that men do not want a barren wife, suggesting that Claire will find herself alone, like Alys, for the rest of her days. This perhaps contributes to Claire’s decision to leave the community in order to find her son, as she knows she can never live among these villagers as one of their own.

“The secret was murmured throughout the community. Older women lowered their eyes in sympathy; many of them had lost children in cruel ways and they knew what strong, lasting grief came with such a loss. Younger ones, jealous of the pretty stranger, tossed their heads in judgement. No husband! Wanton thing! We suspected something like that! So she was tossed out of where she lived.” 

Here, Claire’s secret is used to shame and ostracize her from the community. Although Claire has previously felt empowered by her secrets and garnered agency for herself amidst her old community, she finds that the revelation of such secrets only serves to separate her from the members of this new village. Of course, this is partially because the secret is not kept; rather, Claire’s past is dragged out among the villagers, to be picked apart in ways she has no control over. 

“‘Alys kept him from flinging me [Einar] into the fire. Others came and held him down. He roared into the night, they say, cursing all flesh and the wind and the gods, even cursing the sea that was his livelihood.’” 

Einar’s narrative of his father’s hatred towards him is not without importance, as it serves to show another side of the community. Much like how the villagers respond to Claire’s past, Einar’s father’s behavior demonstrates that this community is not without cruelty. This story also serves to show the problems that can be associated with emotions, as they can lead to rash and cruel behavior by people experiencing grief and pain. Although Einar’s father’s grief does not excuse his behavior, which is abhorrent, it does serve to explain why his father acted in the way that he did, and also explains Einar’s own aloofness, as psychological trauma reverberates generationally. Here, the audience comes to understand what Claire’s previous community might have intended to counteract when they took away their citizens’ ability to feel emotions. Although that approach in and of itself is not laudable, one can see where leaders might get the idea that emotions are troublesome and must be controlled. Of course, to control a person’s emotions is to render them without agency, and also to make their life less dynamic, and therefore is not without its own share of problems.

“She ran with the weight, and then ran the path again, and found that her breathing changed, to accommodate the heaviness. After a few runs, the longer breaths she needed came naturally, and it was as if she had always carried it. Alys told her that it was the way of women, to tote a newborn and then adjust as it grew.” 

The author comments on the nature of motherhood—and possibly, by extension, womanhood—as being a natural source of otherwise seemingly unnatural strength. The author seems to suggest that women are malleable, as they easily adjust to the physical burden of motherhood, especially in regard to infant-sized weights. Whether this fact is true or not is not entirely relevant, although the author’s supposition does bring into question interesting points concerning the nature and normalization of motherhood. The author seems to suggest that mothers’ bodies naturally respond to infants even years after they have given birth, as though giving birth necessitates a woman’s instinctual maternal responses. However, arguing that a woman’s maternal inclinations and physical responses are natural then Others women whose bodies do not respond in the same way. If, for example, Claire’s body did not automatically respond to the infant-sized burden, there is a question of whether the author would consider her less of a suitable mother. Similarly, motherhood seems to be innately tied to womanhood itself, which is problematic considering the variety of identities that exist within the gendered spectrum of womanhood. Essentially, the author seems to argue that womanhood is inextricable from motherhood itself, suggesting that a woman who chooses not to be or who cannot be a mother is less of a woman. This line of logic is then problematic for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that it privileges mothers over non-maternal women.

“It was amazing, really, that having made this climb only once—then down again, so perhaps that counted as twice; but he was injured then, and could hardly have been memorizing the ledges and grasping places—Einar had been able to recreate it for Claire. She imagined him alone in his hut, all those years, making the climb again in his mind, creating a map of it night after night.” 

Here, readers encounter one of the possible problems associated with the author’s style of storytelling. In order to provide Einar as a mentor and trainer for Claire, the author employs a deus ex machina to suggest that Einar could remember every single geographic feature of his day-long climb. It is unrealistic that this is the case, as even the most experienced climbers will attest to. Similarly, the idea that throughout at least seven years, the cliff will remain the same represents a lack of understanding concerning the dynamism of environments. Within the author’s conception of terrain, the environment is static, with the exception of water, which is, by nature uncontrollable and unpredictable. However, anyone who has experience outdoors knows that things even as seemingly immobile as cliffsides shift and change with time. To suggest that, save for the gull’s nest and the tree hit by lightning, the cliff has not changed is to suggest the static nature of Nature itself. A similar problem arises concerning the nature of memory, as memory is rendered a tangible object, much like the cliff. The ability of Einar to recreate every challenge from memory represents a dubious ability at best, one that does not seem believable in the slightest to the audience, who knows that memory is as easily alterable as water. Although many people conceptualize memory as being static by nature, reality is much more malleable and subject to individual biases and moods.

“That day had changed him. It had changed the entire village. Shaken by the death of a boy they had loved, each person had found ways to be more worthy of the sacrifice he had made. They had become kinder, more careful, more attentive to one another.” 

After Matty’s death, the village comes back together, seemingly forgetting all the ills that happened as a result of Trade Mart. Matty’s sacrifice allows the villagers to come back together as a community, believing that they must make amends and become better people in order to honor the memory of his sacrifice. In this way, sacrifice becomes a powerful measure for good, as the sacrifice of one can uplift entire communities. However, this sacrifice only works if every single member of the community works hard to honor it.

“There were so few mysteries in the small village. When new residents arrived, there was always a ceremony of welcome. Their histories were told. He remembered none for her.”

When Claire enters the village, she is not welcomed with a ceremony in the way that many of the other villagers are. Rather, her history is kept secret, a mystery that interests Gabe, albeit briefly. In this way, Claire enters the village as though she has no past in a way similar to how she entered the previous village in Book 2. Whether by choice, as in Book 3, or by happenstance, as is the case in Book 2, Claire seems to enter into new environments as an a historical being, one that is shrouded in mystery. Of course, the audience knows that if Claire were to tell her history to the village, Gabe would find out the truth, which Claire worries will burden him. In a moment of dramatic irony, Gabe’s lack of history is precisely what he feels burdened by; he has set in his mind to track down the answers to the unknown variables of his past. Part of the reason why Gabe seems obsessed with his own history—apart from it serving to propel the narrative forward—is because the village in which he was raised seems obsessed with history itself. In this way, this latter village of outcasts becomes enshrined with the memories of all those that societies have made Other; this village seeks to remember every single tragedy, potentially in the hope that future tragedies might be averted. In this way, the last village becomes the embodiment of memory itself, as evidenced in its various museums and ceremonies.