Space might be an endless frontier. But here on Earth we define space as something enclosed. Space is defined and made legible by barriers, walls, fences, and fences. The sense of boundaries is so strong that we often need to add qualifiers such as open space to describe natural environments like forests and parks.
Although enclosures have been around for centuries, the political and physical barriers they create have never been higher or more complicated. The Trump administration's decision to build a wall along the southern border with Mexico was one of its most controversial decisions. Walls are becoming more common as a political tool and a result of climate change and the increase in migrants around the globe. In preparation for the expected flood of Afghan refugees fleeing violence following the Taliban's capture of Kabul, Greece built fencing at its border with Turkey this week.
John Lanchester took these themes of fear, barriers, and politics and made them more intense in his atmospheric novel, appropriately titled The Wall.
The idea is simple. A thinly disguised United Kingdom, ravaged from climate change and heavy migration, builds a universal wall along all its shores. Sentry posts are placed every few meters to monitor for potential intruders. Their mission is to keep them out, no matter who they may be. Failure is symbolically punished by exile or banishment. The watchers become the watched.
The plot involves a pair sentries, who will be exiled as a result of their duties. The result is a meditation about home and the importance of dislocation and barriers in a world that is becoming increasingly hostile to refugees.
The plot and characters may be a little lacking, but what's fascinating about the novel is its ability to create a sense of terror and an atmosphere of fear in the society at the end. People live, parties are held, and work is done. But all this takes place in a world without the jet stream, which would have plunged our hypothetical U.K. into a cold abyss. The book's theme of gray, dark darkness is evident throughout, from the building of the wall to the characters of the people who live in this world.
Ironically, this is the tension that drives the book forward. Global warming heats us up while simultaneously we develop the distant sangfroid that will fight the ravaging consequences of that heat. We are humans, but we are also wooden and have been separated from the community and connection we had in order to preserve what little is left.
This social coolness creates new class distinctions, not just between native citizens and refugees but also between generations. As they come to terms with the events on their planet, the younger generation is unable to follow the advice of their wise elders. This mental barrier has been built: How can you learn from those who have allowed this to happen. But the boiling anger has cooled to an isolated frostiness, and it is now time for the inter-generational conversation.
These extensions of the premise are clever and subtle by Lanchester, which makes them the most enjoyable parts of an otherwise colorless book. Ironically, this book is best read at the beach in summer as an antidote for the heat of the world. It is not recommended for winter months.
As the issue of climate change becomes more prominent in the public consciousness, there has been more climate fiction published over recent years. Many of these fictions are an offshoot of science fiction. They have lengthy and convoluted discussions about technology, markets, and policies. This can be intellectually stimulating in a particular way for a specific reader.
Lanchester is an artist who doesn't care about technology and minutiae and places us in a real future. It could even be our home. Our imagination is limited and we are forced into tighter spaces. This is a fascinating look at a world where the frontiers of our imagination are getting closer and closer to us all.
The Wall by John Lanchester
W. W. Norton 2019, 288 pages
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