Although these aren’t the order they were written in, the common practice of reading first Wild Seed, then Mind of My Mind, then Clay’s Ark has you start in a dark place and just keeps taking you darker. I wrote longer reviews of the first two books already, but I’m recapping them quickly because Clay’s Ark only makes sense to me in the Patternist context. Thematic spoilers for those books but few specific facts.
Wild Seed is a story of Anyanwu’s ethical choices within a brutal, disturbing system in which she cannot use her power (or even her love for people and humanity) for good without also being complicit in horrors. The protagonist is complicated, a conscientious voice but the Devil’s best servant.
Mind of My Mind is much darker, especially if you take Anyanwu’s part-white American descendant Mary as a symbol for the 20th century version of this story. Anyanwu lived free in Africa, and perhaps that is why she has a conscience; Mary, and the world Anyanwu helped create, has no conscience. Her acceptance of complicity is not a nuanced ethical choice out of a rotten set of options; she rushes into it with her desire—for incestuous sex, for domination over others. In Wild Seed, our ties to other humans are battered by oppressive systems and individual cruelties; in Mind of My Mind humans separate into castes so distinct that they become cattle and masters.
Clay’s Ark has a new premise, a disease that changes you into something inhuman. On a biological level, you are driven to infect others through violence, betrayal, and rape. The book makes much hay of the characters’s varied responses and struggles to retain some ethics, but what is always clear—as it is in all three of these books—is that uncompromised ethical action is only possible through suicide. Any attempt to survive requires compromise, and the best we can do is prepare and adapt as best we can to achieve the least harmful compromise we can. With enormous effort, we can kidnap teenage girls instead of letting fathers and daughters have sex with each other. We can wait for the virus and the trauma to fuck with the teenager’s head until she also has an uncontrollabe sex drive, instead of giving in to the urge to rape her in a more traditional, immediate sense.
The pattern here is that each book gives its characters less and less room for agency. I can’t summarize the whole philosophies of the books myself, but these particular ideas stand out to me now that I’ve read these three:
1. Wild Seed: “What can ethical action possibly look like in a system where you are both utterly dominated and utterly complicit? How can you stay human?”
2. Mind of My Mind: “Is a society built on domination capable of creating real humans in real relationships? Are we all trapped so badly that even political change can only be a brute power struggle?”
3. Clay’s Ark: “What does free will look like in a regime of a ruthless and deterministic biology? How do you keep going if you have no option but to be a monster?”
The first is a set of ideas that is fundamental to many ethical humans, even ones who do not fully buy Butler’s premise.
The second is incredibly relevant as well, but I am not sure yet what to gain from it. Accepting the premise seems to lead to defeatism, and if you reject it, the book offers you little. But I am still thinking on it.
The third is simply horrifying, and even if you do accept the premise, the premise is that you can do nothing. The characters of Clay’s Ark put in so much effort merely to be a bit more civilized about the ultimate, inevitable enactment of their every biological compulsion. That’s not my experience of biology: I frequently succeed in not eating, fucking, touching, harming when I can sense an urge but understand the harm associated with following through. What is the point of a premise that removes that control by making every urge permanent and eventually irresistable? I can shape a community around different principles than those in book 2, but I cannot inject my community with different hormones and microorganisms; the best I can say is that I don’t agree with this book and that we should face our real urges and biological realities with a much more nuanced understanding of our agency toward them.
On a personal character level, one way Butler consistently makes these themes fit a novel (and disturb me on the level of roiling internal organs) is by wrapping in sex, love, pair bonding in many twisted ways. And as this series reduces the main characters’ ethical agency book by book, it also reduces their age and sexual maturity. Disturbing as it is, I can understand that sex and love fit into Anyanwu’s and Doro’s relationship, and think on how their depiction relates to complicated power dynamics in real world relationships. That already becomes nearly impossible in Mind Over Mind, which makes every aspect of romance monstrous. By Clay’s Ark real agency and ethics have collapsed so much that the “relationships” are merely created by uncontrollable desire, the post-hoc justifications for a biological urge that ruins children, families, and even all of nature.
‘Herbivores tend to be immune’ to the disease, we find out. But we were born meat-eaters and horny, the inheritors of an inescapable original sin. I find no value in that philosophy, and the small moments of attempted tenderness between afflicted, sex-crazed, animal-chewing humans only make me ill.