Absent Rebels: Criticism and Network Power in 21st Century Dystopian Fiction. Annika Gonnermann

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СКАЧАТЬ Circle is deeply committed to the depiction of network power on the levels of both content and discourse. To demonstrate how power must not be reduced to coercive mechanisms, the novel has embraced a specific style. Dialogue dominates in The Circle, often extending over one or two pages without explanatory prose or even inquit formulas. This particular style aligns The Circle within the long tradition of eutopian writing. Works like More’s Utopia for instance are famous for their use of Socratic dialogues (cf. Seeber, Selbstkritik 16): one character asks a question on the structure of society, another provides answers. As Northrop Frye summarises, the eutopian “story is made up largely of a Socratic dialogue between guide and narrator, in which the narrator asks questions or thinks up objections and the guide answers them” (“Utopias” 324). The evolving dialogue creates the impression of co-authoring the world: both interviewer and interviewee are equally immersed in the literary construction and presentation of the alternative society. This egalitarian communication mirrors the egalitarian principles guiding the very same society from which the discussion arises. On the discursive level, as on the content level, then, eutopia arises as democratic project from communal efforts.

      Dialogue in The Circle serves two purposes in particular, apart from locating the novel within the utopian canon. Mostly, it has an explanatory and an illustrative function, introducing both the reader and Mae to the Circle. Describing the “core beliefs here at the company,” for instance, Mae’s supervisor Dan explains the Circlers’ ideology to both his intra- and his extradiegetic audience:

      Mae, now that you’re aboard, I wanted to get across some of the core beliefs here at the company. And chief among them is that just as important as the work we do here—and that work is very important—we want to make sure that you can be a human being here, too. […] And making sure this is a place where our humanity is respected, where our opinions are dignified, where our voices are heard—this is as important as any revenue, any stock price, any endeavor undertaken here. Does that sound corny? (TC 47)

      Ending his speech with an open question, Dan invites Mae to react to his world-making, asking her for her acceptance and approval. Elaborating on the eutopian ideals, Dan also seeks to convince the readers, who he addresses indirectly. Continuing to talk to Mae and the reader in dialogical form – a typical mechanism of eutopia (cf. Baccolini, “Womb” 293) – Dan invites both Mae and the reader to become part of the Circle’s in-group.

      Secondly, the excessive use of dialogue constitutes an investigation into network thinking, illuminating the co-dependency of individuals. Often citing entire dialogues between Mae and fellow Circlers, the novel rarely skips or summarises a conversation, but renders it accessible in its entirety. This way, readers will soon notice a particular speech pattern employed by all Circle employees. They insert leading questions, i.e. questions that already suggest the appropriate answer, after each relevant chunk of information: “That sound good” (TC 49)?, “Does that make sense” (ibid. 96)? or “Does that sound right” (ibid. 177)? and “[D]o you see the benefit in this” (ibid. 183)? They thus extract consent or rejection from their dialogue partner, creating the illusion of a dialogue on equal terms. Eamon Bailey employs this technique, too, when he talks to Mae about her ‘stealing’ a kayak from the shop she usually goes to – a crime barely worthy of the name for she is friends with the owner and had the intention of returning it:

      He smiled almost imperceptibly and moved on. ‘Mae, let me ask you a question. Would you have behaved differently if you’d known about the SeeChange cameras at the marina?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Bailey nodded empathetically. ‘Okay. How?’

      ‘I wouldn’t have done what I did.’

      ‘And why not?’

      ‘Because I would have been caught.’

      Bailey tilted his head. ‘Is that all?’

      ‘Well, I wouldn’t want anyone seeing me do that. It wasn’t right.’ (ibid. 282)

      Bailey’s use of leading questions is conspicuous, structuring the course of the dialogue by extracting the answers he wants to hear. By asking open questions such as “How?” and “Is that all?,” Bailey leads Mae to give the suggested replies, while simultaneously maintaining a pretence of democracy, as Mae’s consent is not staged. On the contrary, although nudged in a certain direction, Mae is always in control of herself and her words. Bailey’s rhetorical strategy of question and answer fulfils the criteria of freedom yet flaunts the maxim of voluntariness. Mae is not compelled to give these answers, so she is formally free, yet she is not at liberty to steer the debate and is therefore involuntarily restricted in her options. When leaving both the conversation and the stage, Mae marvels proudly if she had “really thought of all that herself” (ibid. 305)? Stylistically, the novel elaborates on the complex mechanisms of systemic power that originates from the individual but in turn compromises the range of the individual’s possible actions.

      The Circle is void of any identifiable source of oppression, a gravitational centre of moral authority and responsibility (cf. Bernard). There is no Mustapha Mond, no O’Brien, no D-503 to force people to conform. There is no one “in a room somewhere, watching you, planning world domination” (TC 261). When Mercer complains to Mae about the Circle’s new shopping device, the following exchange ensues:

      ‘And so what? You don’t want Charmin to know how much of their toilet paper you’re using? Is Charmin oppressing you in some significant way?’

      ‘No, Mae, it’s different. That would be easier to understand. Here, though, there are no oppressors. No one’s forcing you do this. You willingly tie yourself to these leashes.’ (ibid. 262)

      Although Mercer ignores the systemic aspects of network power, blaming the individual alone for adopting a certain standard (“tie [themselves] to these leashes”), he is correct in abandoning the conceptual paths of thinking in terms of juridico-political power. Ultimately, at least at the beginning when network standards are about to emerge, the Circlers, and by extension the users of the Circle, are themselves responsible for the way they handle their decisions, data, and information. Attacked by Mae asking if “Charmin oppress[es him] in some significant way,” Mercer has enough foresight to reject her ludicrous proposal, emphasising that this form of power is not the subject of their debate: it is about Mae’s passive acceptance and active support.

      Peter Marks locates The Circle’s innovative potential in this narrative twist: “subverting generic codes by having a protagonist who complies through most of the text and then does not rebel at the end gives The Circle a knowing freshness and vitality that encourages interpretive creativity” (166). Unlike Winston Smith or John the Savage, Mae is not a typical dystopian protagonist, because she rejects the role of the rebellious dissident. Giving the readers insights into her mindset, Mae argues as follows:

      The Circle had 90 percent of the search market. Eighty-eight percent of the free-mail market, 92 percent of text servicing. That was, in her perspective, a simple testament to their making and delivering the best product. It seemed insane to punish the company for its efficiency, for its attention to detail. For succeeding. (TC 174f., my emphasis)

      Initially, the Circle’s monopoly might have grown out of free and voluntary decisions, as Mae argues. There is a good chance that the company did indeed provide the “best product.” However, Mae again ignores the power radiating from a standard once it has gained universal acceptance. At this stage, non-members are actively forced to adopt the Circle standard, which continues to grow in influence due to the continuous stream of new products and programmes devised by Mae and her fellow Circlers. As Kalden maintains, “[t]here used to be the option of opting out. But now that’s over” (ibid. 486). Therefore, СКАЧАТЬ