Give the Giver a Try

“‘Or what if,’ he went on almost laughing at the absurdity, ‘they chose their own jobs?’
‘Frightening, isn’t it?’ The Giver Said.
Jonas chuckled. ‘Very frightening. I can’t even imagine it. We really have to protect people from wrong choices.’
‘It’s safer.’
‘Yes,’ Jonas agreed. ‘Much safer.’”
- Lois Lowry, The Giver

Somehow, I made it through middle school and high school without reading The Giver by Lois Lowry. Shocking, I know! In a peculiar way, I am glad I waited until this moment in life to read the novel because I comprehend and question in a deeper way due to my reading journey up to this point. If you are like me and missed this brilliant piece of literature in your school years, here is a quick summary. A utopian society has determined that sets of rules, climate control, and “Sameness” can keep their communities happy and organized. The Receiver of Memory has the unfortunate job of keeping all memories of pain, agony, and grief as well as those of color, love, and true joy going back for centuries. Young 12-year-old Jonas is selected to become the new Receiver of Memory.

From the very start the book incites questions, thoughts, and ponderings on the nature of society. Would sameness and organization truly bring happiness? Is the omission of warfare and hunger worth the elimination of music and love? Like persistently breaking waves, such questions rolled through my mind as I read the enchanting novel.

Coincidentally, I recently filled another important gap in my literary journey that I couldn’t help but compare with The Giver. Over the New Year’s holiday, I read Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Both The Giver and Brave New World are based in a utopian ideal society in which everyone in the community follows a set of rules that are supposed to ensure happiness and order. Both books use medicine and genetics as control methods, but Aldous Huxley’s book is more adult in its content. Lowry’s book depicts a society built on the compression of pleasure into simple surface-level happiness. Their medicines are to dissipate pain and withdraw any sensual stirrings. In contrast, Huxley’s book depicts a society built on the augmentation and continuation of pleasure to pacify its people. The medicines of Brave New World act as sensual agents and legalized drug-induced trances. Both novels show the possibilities of over-sensualized and under-sensualized controlled societies with committee-assigned economic class and genetic design. Personally, I prefer The Giver overall because it ties up loose ends in the plot and concludes with a hopeful ending. There is a wholesome wish for goodness and love and vibrancy that makes the reader ready to leap out the front door looking for a mountain to sled or a lake to sail.

A curious aspect of the book intrigued me to map out the author’s path to see if there was a pattern. I noticed the major lessons and memories given to Jonas are later experienced by him in reverse as he goes on his dangerous journey to the unknown “Elsewhere”. The Giver first gives him the memory of sledding down a snowy hill, then the warmth of the sunshine, then color, then physical injury, then hunger, and then a young boy’s death during warfare. Once Jonas and The Giver have decided on their dangerous course of action the series of memories begin in reverse but this time as Jonas’ own memories to keep. He watches the releasing of the twin boy and is shocked at the newborn’s death given by his father’s hand. He escapes with the toddler Gabriel and experiences true devastating hunger and physical injury firsthand. Jonas begins to lose memory of color and tries to keep Gabriel warm with his last fleeting memories of sunshine. Finally, Jonas makes his own memory to replace the first one he was given. He sleds down the snowy hill to Elsewhere.

Memories of Ally World

"But as he broadened the new part of his mind, so he closed down a beautiful and fascinating part of the old - the area of fantasy. The more knowledge man gained, the more self-conscious he became about believing in fanciful creatures." 

- Julie Andrews Edwards, The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles

When I was a child, I was often so caught up in my imagination that my family would say I was in "Ally World". Though they considered it an amusing excuse for my ADD, I truly found that the world my mind captured was one of imagination and wonder. The likely cause of my propensity towards alternative reality was the books read to me and those I read on my own. I distinctly recall the evenings spent at the foot of my brother's bed battling alongside Reepicheep and Caspian through the medium of my mother's voice. With openness of spirit, I played the glad game with Pollyanna. With courage and reflection, I experienced the historical troubles of the eras of Kirsten, Addy, Felicity, and Kit in the American Girls. I flew with dragons, fought with sorcerers, trained with knights, met the great Whangdoodle, and explored Mr. Wonka's factory. Is it no wonder that I looked to my surrounding world to be more of the same mystical quality? In truth, I was not dissatisfied with my real world. I simply saw more to it than is usually seen. Through my readings and innate curiosity, I developed a knack for seeing pretend things for fun, such as an opening to another dimension in the dark gap of a bush, a genie in the rushing and bustling of a crowd, or even the smile of God in the clouds. 

I treasure that special time in my life. Still today, I am a creative and imaginative person, but as I grew to be less odd and leave "Ally World" behind, much of that part of my mind changed. This transformation is explained elegantly in my beginning quote from the great Julie Andrews. She was a hero to me early on from the days of Mary Poppins, but it was not until later in life that I read her wonderful children's novels. It is true that as we gain in knowledge and grow in age, so our minds change to focus on things nearer and more present and tangible. What will never change is my eagerness to engage in a good book.