There a lang an weel conseedert review o the Scots version o the novel at The Blether Region. Ah verra much
appreciate the reviewer’s in-depth readin an frank creeticism – Ah tak maist o yer
pynts, Scots Anorak, an Ah’ll haud thaim in mind if there ever a sequel. Ah feel Ah sud come
back, though, aboot some o the poleetical poseetions the review ascribes tae
the novel, an that Ah think are raither in the eye of the beholder. The blog disnae alloo
comments, sae Ah’ll mak ma pynts here. But first, the review itsel.
<<In masterful Scots,
Wulf Kurtoğlu's Braken Fences describes a dystopian future where the world is
partitioned between the "rational" west and the failed, impoverished
states of Islamic fundamentalists. It's an epic tale with believable characters
and the thoughtful treatment of moral issues that we expect from the best
science fiction.
That said, I have several issues with the book's premise, chief among them the
question of what rationality actually is. Part of it is logical consistency,
and in the case of western states that identify with human rights and
democracy, that means avoiding double standards. If we value individual human rights
but adopt a group-rights approach in a key conflict, that's a kind of
irrationality. The same goes for an attachment to self-determination except
when it comes to independence from big, important countries. Muslims notice
these double standards.
Moreover, I'd suggest that people also have a hierarchy of political goals,
with most — perhaps even most feminists in Palestine or Kashmir — putting
national self-determination before women's rights. What's beyond debate is that
liberal attitudes in individual societies closely correlate with their wealth.
As was recently pointed out to Mitt Romney, it's hard to be a wealth-creator
when you have to wait all day at the checkpoint.
Of course, one can also interpret rationality as secularism, but doing so
admits the possibility that the divide between "rational" and
"fundamentalist" will not dovetail so neatly with that between
Christians and Muslims. Littoral America might be in the "rational
world", but what about the rather larger bit in the middle, the America of
The Handmaid's Tale? Would Lowland Scotland's Presbyterian colonies in the
Hebrides and north-east Ulster get into the RW? Likewise, the secular
Ashkenazim of gay-friendly Tel Aviv might feel rather more comfortable enjoying
a pint with a Bosnian Muslim, or indeed a Scots one, than spending time with
the ultra-orthodox of Jerusalem.
Overall, the notion of a neat division of the world into good and bad guys is a
little too neat, owing rather too much to the anti-intellectual, Manichaean
nature of discourse in the America of the culture wars. We would never attempt
it at home. But, of course, home is a place whose shades of grey we actually
know.
Wisely or luckily, Kurtoğlu avoids full-on politics and concentrates on
characters. Furthermore, the book neatly succeeds in underlining that it is
about fundamentalism rather than race through its majority-Asian cast,
including its half-Indian heroine, Beatrice Varshini, whose heritage may or may
not be a nod to the rational/irrational partition of India. In one or two
places the character of Bill Henderson provides the focus for some un-PC
thoughts, but the novel leaves us in no doubt as to what we are supposed to
think of that. Predictable emphasis is given to borders and their policing, but
also, through the novel's concern for Tibetan refugees, to their inherent
injustice at an individual level. Young westerners do "rational
service" to protect those borders. This is of course a pun on
"national service" for those who remember that, but I'm afraid it
reminded me for all the world of the IDF.
Life in the fundamentalist zone is short and brutal, and some of the women
there have been forced to disguise themselves as men to avoid persecution, thus
providing a symbolic parallel to the ditching of empathy that typifies the
once-liberal neo-cons to whom the novel presumably speaks. Furthermore, they
make use of what in a nice poetic touch is called "The Ceety o
Weemen", a contraceptive plant, for at least some the female half of the
FZ has decided to stop procreating and thus halt the cycle of male Islamic
fundamentalist oppression. This plan is described as collective suicide. I'm
not sure that it is, but it does establish a linkage: stop the gene to kill the
meme. But what about those immigrants in the real world who bring their own
genes and memes with them? In the west, it is the indigenous or assimilated who
use contraception. No western woman wants to have 20 children, after all. But
unassimilated immigrants have a higher birth rate. Will liberal westerners, as a
certain grocer's daughter once famously said, end up being "swamped"?
This theme is expanded upon in the subplot about the resurrected Neanderthals,
whose intermarriage with homo sapiens will for genetic reasons result in their
extinction. Is there a parallel here with western multiculturalism? Only the
reader can decide.
The Neanderthals bring me to what I felt was the novel's main failing. There is
just too much going on. The book seems weighed down by its philosophical
concerns, starting with the three lengthy quotations on the first page. I also
felt that there were too many minor characters. In some cases their
reappearance in the action, or the news that they had passed on, necessitated
flicking back to check. Given the fact that perhaps only one in 20 of the
Scottish population could nowadays wheech through the Scots version, that seems
an indulgence.
Linguistically, as one would expect from one of the very greatest Scots
academics of her generation, Braken Fences is a masterpiece of accessible yet full-bodied
Scots. As in Philip Robinson's reverse-kailyard works, there is sometimes
English dialogue and Scots description, but any Scots novel nowadays is bound
to be experimental. The language's full range is also deployed stylistically,
with the Neanderthals speaking an Insular dialect. Given the popular
associations of the word "Neanderthal", that could of course cause
offence, but the novel incorporates the most recent scientific beliefs that
they were much more intelligent than previously thought. Complaints about
verisimilitude with regard to the speech of Shetland in a science-fiction
context seem to me bizarre.
I agree with other reviewers that this is an important book, and a further step
in the normalisation of the language. It deserves to be read and argued about,
and I hope that this review will make people go out and buy it. I also look
forward to more from its author, who has already done much for Scots, and has
much to offer in future.>>
As Ah sayed, Ah think some o
the poleetical pynts are raither in the eye o the beholder.
There a wey o thinkin that blames aathin that gaes on in the Muslim warld on
the Palestinian seetuation. Ah dinna subscribe tae that wey o thinkin, sae Ah
was bumbaized at first by the reviewer bringin Palestine intil’t (there nae
mention aither o Palestine nor the Middle East in the novel) alang o Maggie
Thatcher, Mitt Romney an American neo-cons (wtf?). But thinkin it ower, Ah see
whaur ony creeticism o Islam can be tane as reflectin badly on the
Palestinians, which wad be a major riddie tae yin wey o thinkin. An certes the
novel is concairnt wi the spreid o fundamentalism in yince moderate Muslim
kintras, the likes o Xinjiang, an especially wi the implications o that for
Muslim weemen.
Gin the novel relates tae
ony real-warld poleetical seetuation, it’s no the parteetion o the Ottoman
Empire, but, as the reviewer recognises in fack, the Parteetion o India. The
settin is really juist the Parteetion o India on a global scale.
Ah think it’s a bittie
unfair, an aa, tae describe the novel’s settin as “a neat division of the world
into good and bad guys”. There no muckle tae recommend the Fundamentalist Zone
(unless o coorse, ye’re a fundamentalist), but the Rational Warld as Ah pent it
is faur fae perfeck naither. Besieged as
it is, the RW maks siccar its population is kep in line. The saft
totalitarianism Ah imagine there is based on the tradeetional parochial seestem
o the kirk or the Pairty seestem o Chinese Communism.
Which brings me tae my final
pynt in the novel’s defence. The warld Ah imagine isnae parteetioned atween
“the ‘rational’ west” an the lave. Ah howped Ah’d made it clear that the drivin
force ahint the creation o the RW, an the dominant pooer maintainin it, is a
coalition o India an China. The Wast is gey marginal. Leukin in ma crystal baa,
whit Ah saw (tho Ah dinna spell this oot in the novel) wis the Wast in decline,
nae langer believin in nor willin tae staun up for its inheritit values o
Jewish indiveedualism, Roman law, Christian charity, an Enlightenment
rationalism. But the Wast is no the warld. Some at least o thir values – an
certes the legal an scientific achievements o the Wast – can juist as weill be
carriet furrat by the mair robust an self-confident cultures o India an China. (Ah wad, of coorse, be
delightit tae be proven wrang aboot the vitality o wastren culture, but we'll
nane o us be here tae see it ...)