THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS
ESSAY!
Just a few days after I finished Ender’s Game, I ran across an article in
the Colorado Springs newspaper (The
Gazette) about how some people were trying to get the book banned from use
in a Mesa County school district language arts program. They didn’t succeed, but the reason a
particular parent wanted the book banned was that she “was appalled to read
swear words and passages about characters renouncing religion and killing each
other.” (Where has this parent been all
her life?)
The article goes on to state that
the book is “an anti-bullying tale.” I
found this a little befuddling; I would have never characterized the book in
that way. It oversimplifies the themes
to a really naïve level. For one thing,
when the book was written in the 1970s and ’80s, bullying wasn’t a big topic of
interest, and in any case, I don’t think murdering the bully is a valid way to deal
with the problem. The article does also
go on to say “Reviewers also called it a message about tolerance, empathy and
coping under pressure.”
Some of those statements are true,
but I think they miss the point. And
honestly I don’t think the book is particularly appropriate for 10 or 11 year
olds, not because of the reasons the parent gave above but because I think it
would terminally bore them.
For me the essential point of the
book is how terrible things can happen when communication is non-existent. People seem to have little interest in the
buggers, who are an intelligent species looking for a new place to nest and not
nearly as evil as they are portrayed in Earth’s future social context. The irony is that the buggers
weren’t even intending to attack again, and the lengths Earthers went to in
order to destroy them says something about humanity – paints a really bleak
picture, actually. Perhaps this point
gets de-emphasized because it is made so late in the book.
Most of the book deals with the
training of the six-to-eleven-year-old Ender to be the commander who is going
to save the world from the next bugger attack. Personally, I have trouble suspending
disbelief that young children could do what Ender and his siblings did, no
matter how carefully genetically engineered they were. This training consists of game-playing. I am not a game player, so I found the
endless dwelling on the “game” of warfare to be quite tedious at times. I can imagine, however, that this would
appeal to inveterate game players. It’s
a very masculine book – it has only three female characters (not counting the
bugger Queens, of course) and of those only Ender’s sister filled an important role
(a kind of token female). I think if
you’re a guy and you’re a gamer and you think warfare is cool, then you would
eat up all those training sequences. The
view and use of gaming was amazingly modern to have been written in the ’70s
and ’80s – I thought the use of the “desk” (like a modern laptop computer or
tablet) and the sophistication of the games held up well against the evolution
of modern technology.
The one part of the gaming
sequences that I found fascinating was the psychological game that Ender played
for “recreation.” This was totally a computer
game, not the physical workouts of the Battle Room. I’m always interested in psychological
interpretations of character, and the way this fed into the conclusion of the
book was brilliant.
On the whole, however, I found the
story to be gloomy and downbeat, with almost no humor or comic relief. (I do like some humor in my science
fiction.) To me, it feels unbalanced and
depressing. And the pace of the story is
uneven – we have all those endless training sessions and then at the very end
of the book we suddenly accelerate into covering several years all packed into
that final chapter. I think the author
lapsed into telling and not showing at this point because he had a lot he
needed to cover. The plot suddenly
becomes filled with exalted idealism as major revelations are rapidly detailed. I’m sure Card was preparing the way for the
second volume. In spite of the change of
style and pace, however, I found the sequence revealed on p. 321 (where Ender
speaks for the annihilated buggers) to be most satisfying and exhilarating part
of the book. It wouldn’t have hurt to
shorten the earlier parts by about half.
I did have a couple of other problems
with the end of the book. It seemed all
the Queens of the buggers were on one planet, and all of them were killed. Now even though the buggers could read Ender’s
mind, I don’t think they could read the future, so how did they know which
planet he would colonize and so where to leave the game recreation and the
egg? Maybe they left a recreation and an egg on all their planets?) Also, it’s stated that the buggers
cared for their offspring as they were working their farms.
But if the Queens were all on one planet, why were the offspring on
different planets? I would think they
would be kept in nurseries near the Mother until they matured. I don’t think Card thought this out
totally. However, I was reading the end
pretty fast and I might have missed something.
I want to remark on the use of the
term “ansible” for a device that allows for rapid communication across light years. I thought it was pretty neat that he borrowed
the word from Ursula K. LeGuin, who invented it. Here is how the term is explained to Ender: “Somebody
dredged the name ansible out of an
old book somewhere and it caught on.” (p.249)
Isn’t it nice to know your books will still be around a number of
centuries from now? In fact, LeGuin
coined the word ansible in her 1966 novel Rocannon's World, and her 1974 novel The Dispossessed narrates how the
technology happened to be invented. According
to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ansible
Le Guin states she derived the name from "answerable," as the device
would allow its users to receive answers to their messages in a reasonable
amount of time even over interstellar distances. Fascinating stuff!
Of course, since I write about
giant insects, I’m especially interested in the buggers, and the way things
turned out only makes me more interested in them.
My purpose in my books is not only to show that giant insects don’t have
to be evil – my purpose is also to show the importance of learning how to
communicate with the extraterrestrial lifeforms we are sure to encounter one
day. And of course that’s the most
important theme of Ender’s Game as
well, even though it seems to get lost in the shuffle. One of the most important pages of the book
is p. 253, where Col. Graff finally tells Ender how the buggers communicate
mind-to-mind instantaneously, in a way we can never hope to de-code. And Ender says, “So the whole war is because
we can’t talk to each other.” That sums
up the theme of the book in one sentence.
[References above are to the mass
market paperback edition, published by Tor Books in 1994.]
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