The Child Garden: a Low Comedy by Geoff Ryman

The Child Garden: a Low Comedy by Geoff Ryman

Unwin Hyman Limited, 1989. First U.S. Edition: October 1990.

Overview: While this book certainly lives up to its subtitle with its “low” humor, the overarching tragedy of a society that made itself into a dystopia in its efforts to become a utopia transmutes the comedy into pathos. The world of Child Garden is literally sick with too much empty knowledge, as children and adults are inoculated with viruses that educate them while severely impeding their ability to learn independently. The Consensus, an organic network of nearly every citizen’s personality imprint, allows Milena Shibush, one of the few lesbians left in the world (queerness is “treated” upon entry to the Consensus), to grow up apart from it due to her resistance to the viruses. She falls in love with a Genetically Engineered Polar Woman (essentially a polar bear on the outside) who is a brilliant composer, and devotes much of her life to producing and directing her lover’s score of Dante’s Divine Comedy.  (While that is a gross oversimplification of this book, much more explanation would give away major plot-points and conclusions.)

My reaction: This is a bizarre book, in a mostly good way. I really enjoy dystopic novels in general, and this one introduced some twists on the genre. Instead of erasing the past (in the mold of Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, etc), the Consensus is stuck reproducing the culture of the past. Actors have to replicate performances as precisely as possible until even they are bored out of their minds, viruses “teach” people to identify all available music thereby precluding a chance to enjoy it for its emotionality rather than its technical elements, and so on. It is also interesting to see a generally well-intentioned dystopic system that accidentally shortened the life-span of its subjects, killed art while trying to help everyone access it, and regrets its mistakes. The result is that the Consensus (which is distinct from the adults whom it represents/controls) becomes an object of pity for the reader, and is a fascinating and sympathetic character. In fact, I think that this complexity is one of the book’s greatest strengths, for as the reader gains more insight into its vulnerability and self-awareness, the tragedy is heightened in a way that it could not have been had the Consensus been thoroughly evil.  

While one of the more “out-there” plotlines was a little difficult for me to slog through (though I was trying to read it in a crowded lunchroom at work, which didn’t really help) for an hour or two, it was worth it for the part that it played in the amazing conclusion. In fact, I may go back and re-read that section for that reason. All told, this is definitely one of the stranger books I’ve read, but I’m glad I did.

*I teetered between "recommended" and "decent"--I guess I'll go with "recommended" for people who have a taste for both dystopias and weirdness, but for myself the "pretty good" definition attached to "decent" was more accurate.