Thursday, October 20, 2011

Reality

What I found very interesting in Kindred is the idea of a dominant reality. In the prologue, we’re brought into the story in 1976. I initially believed that 1976 was the “dominant” time period of the novel because it is introduced as the first setting, and also because we usually consider the more modern time period as the “actual” reality. As the story progresses however, it seems that 1976 serves merely as an anchor; a time period that the reader can always refer back to throughout the rest of the story, while the early 1800’s becomes Dana’s dominant reality.


When Dana is present in her 1976 reality, she seems mostly concerned with her reality in the 1800’s. And when she’s in the antebellum south, she does not seem to have any thoughts of necessary return back to the modern west coast. After her second trip to the south, Kevin assists her in preparing for her next disappearance; packing a bag of necessary survival items and a change of clothes. Her modern reality starts revolving around her reality in the south, as every waking moment she seems to have in 1976 is spent either discussing events she experienced in the south, or preparing for her next trip. Dana’s actions in 1976 are also dictated by this newfound ability to travel to the 1800’s. When Kevin tries to convince her to visit the hospital, or when he wants to go to the library to do research, she refuses to go because she is afraid that she may disappear while in a place less safe than her home. We see that as her capability of movement increases in her 1800’s reality, which in turn restricts her capabilities in 1976. (This is ironic that she is more restricted in a sense during a time period that is supposed to grant individual freedom). The reality of her life in the south then begins to dictate her action in the west, and the 1800’s emerge as her dominant reality.


The dominance of the southern reality also surfaces when both Kevin and Dana travel to the south together. Kevin proposes that he “scare [Dana] home,” (p. 84) although she refuses his offer, asking for six more weeks to “make a haven for [herself],” (p. 84). Dana seems to have no second thoughts about how six weeks will translate into lost time in 1976, and the word “haven” indicates a desire for permanent safety in the south, implying that she views it more of a permanent reality than her 1976 reality.


The prologue foreshadows the possibility that Dana’s dominant reality may shift again. Lying in the hospital in 1976, saying that she “lost about a year of [her] life,” (p. 9) she seems to be doing the opposite of what I noted above. She has left the safety of her home, and she has recognized losing time in 1976 by travelling to the south. Perhaps then her idea of a dominant reality will shift once again, and therefore change our idea as readers of dominant reality. We see that dominant reality is therefore something that can be chosen, or changed. Like in The Man In The High Castle, different people may have different perceptions of reality, shaped by their own beliefs or outside events. We can be a Mr. Tagomi, and try to ignore one reality and live only in the other, which Dana seems to start doing in the first ninety pages of the novel. Or we can be a Julianna and recognize both realities, and choose what to do following that recognition, which is what Dana could do at a later point in the story.

1 comment:

  1. Interesting observations! The fact that Dana's dominant reality could very well be the early 1800s despite having grown up in a later time period connects my thoughts back to The Things They Carried. How much does Dana carry with her in between realities? What physical and mental and emotional weights anchor her to one reality or the other? Surely some memories or attitudes from the 1970s should have been able to keep her dominant reality the 20th century... right?

    You ask about what we do with the recognition of multiple realities, and I'm wondering how MUCH we ourselves can do. As much as our own minds should possibly be able to figure out the mess of what world we choose, it seems that identities need anchor points.

    In the Man in the High Castle, this anchor point was art. If art had not existed, no one would be able to have a grounding point of what was true and what was a lie.

    In the Things they Carried, this was the supposedly unnecessary supplies for survival like photos and candy and bibles that remind the soldiers every now and then that they're human.

    What does Dana have? Perhaps she doesn't even have a dominant reality, because her realities are collapsing together. Instead of carrying, she is losing -- years of her life, parts of her body, a sense of freedom and safety. She does not seem to have anchor points for her identity -- except perhaps Kevin, the one person that she knows she did not lose as well...

    but even he does not seem to know what reality to choose.

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