For the past few months, I've been job hunting. I was laid off again in January and, though I felt it coming, I was still unprepared for the turmoil my life was once again about to be thrown into. Last Friday, I received a job offer to be a consultant for five months. I felt relief and excitement, but didn't feel like celebrating much.
There's a lot of anger right now in the world. A lot of hurt. A lot of hate.
It's overwhelming in an impersonal and intangible way. Most of these negative emotions do not directly affect me. I'm not the one feeling these feelings or acting on them or a victim of the violence that's been springing forth. There's a distinct distance that I neither created nor really understand.
I recently finished a novel called Imaginary Friend by Stephen Chbosky - he also wrote The Perks of Being a Wall Flower, which I haven't read but hear is good. It's an over 700 page horror novel that I would probably have overlooked if not for the fact that I won it in a Goodreads' give away. I'll try not to spoil the book too much, but it heavily relies on Christian symbolism (Catholicism being the prime religion present), middle American suburbia, and the (erroneous) analogy of the frog being placed in water and not jumping out as the water slowly comes to a boil.
It also repeats itself a lot.
And yet, there's very little that I can think that should be cut out of the story. Each repetition reinforces and adds detail to the first time the idea or image, or thought occurred. There were a few times where I found it annoying, but I was also getting increasingly uncomfortable. It was almost like the book wanted me to get mad at it.
I'm also not sure that the lack of diversity was intentional or not (there is a lesbian couple mentioned, but they have almost no narrative impact on the plot other than to be moms to two other characters). Everyone (as far as I can tell) are Christian and they don't like the fact that they had to change the name of the "Christmas Pageant" to "Holiday Pageant" to be more inclusive. The story takes place in a fairly well off suburban neighborhood outside of Pittsburg, PA.
That doesn't stop the town from trying to rip itself apart and turning the story into a monstrous "us versus them" narrative. There are the people who stand by and want to help the main character Christopher (an eight year old with an imaginary friend who wants him to build a treehouse deep in the woods) and there are the people who want to destroy everything in their path. The people in the second group distinguish themselves by sewing their eyes and mouths shut.
I'm not kidding. I shivered every time it was mentioned and I'm squirming in my seat now typing it out. At the back of the novel, there are a few questions that Chbosky answered to explain some of his creative decisions. He included a small paragraph about why he chose to have the people sew themselves up. I honestly thought it was a little obvious. It was a grotesque mockery of the "see no evil, speak no evil" saying (though "hear no evil" wasn't included). He said that evil in this world is spread by us not "seeing it" and "staying silent" about it. It's a benevolent representation of the sort of evil that is perpetuated by ignoring a problem.
The symbolism might have been a bit on the nose, but I also think it's apt for the times I'm living in. We don't have these same stark visual to tell us who is susceptible to hate and ignorance and who isn't.
For the past year, hate crimes against Asian Americans has risen. One of my friends is a first generation Chinese American. Occasionally, she'll send me news articles or YouTube videos of the violence and hate crimes being committed against people who look like her in places like New York and San Francisco. Though she's never outright said so, I can tell she's scared.
This week has been particularly tough with the conflict between Palestine and Israel. I personally don't feel comfortable commenting on the conflict for a variety of reasons, but it's been a near constant in my mind all week.
There's a rage that simmering across the globe. It could be the rising temperatures from climate change. It could be the stress from COVID.
In some ways the violence, anger, and hate have caused people to become numb or pretend not to see it happening. But it is happening.
Sometimes, I wish all of the conflicts of the world could be as simple as right versus wrong. Some of them should be that simple, but they're not. And like in Imaginary Friend, people keep their eyes and mouths shut so as to not see or say anything.
Wishing for the real world to be as simple as a horror story is a disservice to the people in pain right now. It solves nothing and helps no one. I can only hope that those wiser than me can make the best choices possible.
Though I didn't give Imaginary Friend a five star rating (I gave four stars), it's still a good horror story. Again, I won't spoil the ending, but it is a classic "good versus evil" narrative (which *SPOILERS* means the good guys win).
If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.
Until next week.
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