Last year, I taught Le Guin's story to my community college freshman comp students, and I think that was our best discussion all semester. Just last week, I finally got around to reading N.K. Jemisin's "The Ones Who Stay and Fight." Heavens, you're right: it's terrible!
It doesn't read as if Jemisin is appalled at what the "social workers" of her city Um-Helat do to suppress thoughtcrime, rather as if she thinks this is simply necessary for a revolution in social mores. For me, this was the story's most naive line: "This is the paradox of tolerance, the treason of free speech: We hesitate to admit that some people are just fucking evil and need to be stopped." The first bit suggests a reference to Karl Popper, but all the rest suggests Jemisin hasn't read his explanation of "the paradox of tolerance." And "some people are just fucking evil"? How simplistic! What unimaginative reduction of human motivations! Finally, Jemisin's story appears to make an ends-justify-the-means argument – the oppressed should fight by taking up the oppressors' weapons and tools – and it expends not a jot of thought on the possibility that this might turn the oppressed into just a new crop of oppressors.
In the story's latter half, the child whose father is murdered before her eyes for harboring evil ideas like bigotry – not acting on them – appears to be doubly victimized by being offered an only-two-options choice: die herself (because the story implies she's "infected" by those evil ideas) or become a "social worker" and perpetuate Um-Helat's murderous underground thought-policing. Yet Jemisin frames it as if the city is "caring" for the child! As if this is an improvement – imperfect but an improvement all the same – on what the Omelans do to their scapegoat! Finally, having failed to criticize her "solution" to Le Guin's thought experiment, Jemisin calls on the reader to join the fray! I finished the story thinking, "Is this supposed to be a dark satire and I just didn't pick up on it? Is Jemisin trying to say to readers, 'Get serious about fighting bigotry, or this kind of dystopia is what we may eventually resort to' – but she didn't pull it off? Or is she actually as obtuse as this story makes her look about Le Guin's point?"
I guess it's rather grumpy of me to zero in on just that part of your post, but it's just fresh in my mind how infuriating it was to read Jemisin's story and realize it was not-subtly-at-all staking out "moral high ground" over Le Guin's story yet failing to understand Le Guin's very premise.
That story is one that just would not leave my head after I read it. It's such a compelling thought experiment because we all know what we hope we would do, but we can't know until we find ourselves in that situation (and most of us never will). Can we truly give up everything we desire because it was all built on someone else's suffering? We all hope we would, but most of us probably wouldn't.
Last year, I taught Le Guin's story to my community college freshman comp students, and I think that was our best discussion all semester. Just last week, I finally got around to reading N.K. Jemisin's "The Ones Who Stay and Fight." Heavens, you're right: it's terrible!
It doesn't read as if Jemisin is appalled at what the "social workers" of her city Um-Helat do to suppress thoughtcrime, rather as if she thinks this is simply necessary for a revolution in social mores. For me, this was the story's most naive line: "This is the paradox of tolerance, the treason of free speech: We hesitate to admit that some people are just fucking evil and need to be stopped." The first bit suggests a reference to Karl Popper, but all the rest suggests Jemisin hasn't read his explanation of "the paradox of tolerance." And "some people are just fucking evil"? How simplistic! What unimaginative reduction of human motivations! Finally, Jemisin's story appears to make an ends-justify-the-means argument – the oppressed should fight by taking up the oppressors' weapons and tools – and it expends not a jot of thought on the possibility that this might turn the oppressed into just a new crop of oppressors.
In the story's latter half, the child whose father is murdered before her eyes for harboring evil ideas like bigotry – not acting on them – appears to be doubly victimized by being offered an only-two-options choice: die herself (because the story implies she's "infected" by those evil ideas) or become a "social worker" and perpetuate Um-Helat's murderous underground thought-policing. Yet Jemisin frames it as if the city is "caring" for the child! As if this is an improvement – imperfect but an improvement all the same – on what the Omelans do to their scapegoat! Finally, having failed to criticize her "solution" to Le Guin's thought experiment, Jemisin calls on the reader to join the fray! I finished the story thinking, "Is this supposed to be a dark satire and I just didn't pick up on it? Is Jemisin trying to say to readers, 'Get serious about fighting bigotry, or this kind of dystopia is what we may eventually resort to' – but she didn't pull it off? Or is she actually as obtuse as this story makes her look about Le Guin's point?"
I guess it's rather grumpy of me to zero in on just that part of your post, but it's just fresh in my mind how infuriating it was to read Jemisin's story and realize it was not-subtly-at-all staking out "moral high ground" over Le Guin's story yet failing to understand Le Guin's very premise.
My guess is that the other Benedict is actually 2 people: Mr and Mrs Legrand Benedict from whom we get eggs Benedict.
Sorry but I was hungry when I read this post.
That story is one that just would not leave my head after I read it. It's such a compelling thought experiment because we all know what we hope we would do, but we can't know until we find ourselves in that situation (and most of us never will). Can we truly give up everything we desire because it was all built on someone else's suffering? We all hope we would, but most of us probably wouldn't.
Is it a reference to Alasdair MacIntyre? Not wanting for Godot?
You got it! It is from the closing of After Virtue