I just finished reading Solitaire and am left with a few questions and conclusions.
I identified with Jackal in her search of “what am I and what am I suppose to do” in regards to being the “Hope”. I couldn’t figure out the big deal. But then, global and corporate domination isn’t something I would want to be associated with.
I saw her as a victim and a pawn, even at the end.
The elevator scenario was not her fault. She was doing her best, doing something when no one else was. And interestingly enough, I never thought she hit the wrong button, but instead the whole console was rigged by the terrorist. Nobody was going to get them out no matter what she or a technician did.
As I thought about the story, it dawned on me that the title of the book is ironic. Jackal was never by herself. Ever. Before prison it was Ko watching her, and during her sentence, the scientist/jailers were with her. Her implants kept her connected to the real world. No matter how much she thought she was alone or solo, she had to subconsciously understand that there were people always watching her. Interacting with her. Monitoring her every brain spike and functions. Her retreat to a unpopulated Ko showed she knew it would be the only way to be left by herself.
And now, she still isn’t alone. I never read where her implants and tracking devices were removed. She’s still not her own person. She’s still being controlled and observed, but just on her own terms.
Another puzzling part was her aversion to touch. Why would the lack of it for her imagined 8 years encourage her to pull away from it? It was mentioned at the end she recognized the last time someone had touched her, but yet, was uncomfortable with the one person whose touch she should have needed the most. Weird.
I enjoyed the “management “dialogs. It was interesting to see how things can be perceived with a corporate vision.
Thank you for a very thought provoking book.
Claudia
You’re welcome, although the book you read certainly wasn’t the book I meant to write. Not that it matters. I’ve been having an interesting discussion with a teacher about intentionality, and we agree that the writer’s intention isn’t the point of the reading experience. Still, I must say I’m sorry to hear that for you Jackal is a victim and a pawn throughout the book. I wouldn’t enjoy reading a book like that, and don’t much enjoy the thought that someone believes I’ve written one. But mileage varies, and it’s interesting to try to see the book from your point of view.
Very little of Solitaire is ironic, from my perspective (oh, here I go, talking about my intentions. Sorry. It’s hard not to, since I’m the writer as well as a reader in this case). Some long-term customers of the virtual pub may get a little tired of hearing me say this (oh well): I really do believe in hope, and small joys as well as great ones. I would wish the book to reflect that without irony.
Of course, Solitaire is also a novel that explores ambivalence on almost every level of the narrative, which is perhaps what has sparked some of your observations. It’s true for me that Jackal is still being observed, for example (her implants are there to stay), and controlled (she is still a convicted criminal with limited civil rights). And I also think she’s very much her own person, as much as any of us can be within the limitations that arise from living with other people in social structures.
There are so many folks in the world who never get to live on their own terms: it’s not an easy thing for me to categorize as “but just.” I think it’s a triumph: a small one perhaps, but a life of small triumphs is a successful life indeed.
The touch issue is another expression of the ambivalence that’s so much a part of the book. Not intentional (grin), but I can see how it fits into the larger pattern. Being literally untouched for an extended period of time can be a horribly isolating experience, especially if the body adjusts to it, and it becomes a physical norm. I think all humans have an individual baseline of touch (as we do with personal space, or tolerance of pain), and it’s my experience that if my baseline isn’t being met (because people are touching me too much, or not enough), I become uncomfortable. I think Jackal’s baseline changes pretty drastically in VC.
Touch is also part of the overall metaphor of connection in the book. Jackal identifies herself so strongly as connected (with Ko, the web, her family), and then she is so forcibly disconnected: her confusion about touch once she is out of VC is part of her overall confusion about reconnecting.
Hmm. That’s interesting to think about. Thanks for bringing it up.
I’m glad you enjoyed the management dialogs. I enjoyed writing them, and sometimes miss using my “business brain” on a daily basis as I did when I was in the corporate world. At the moment, I’m a member of a degree committee for a master’s candidate in organizational systems design, which is giving me the chance to share some of my knowledge and experience, and learn new things. Great fun. The corporate world isn’t the only arena where these skills are useful, but it’s one where having skill can make a huge difference to the quality of everyone’s daily experience. I’m biased, of course, but I wish more people cared enough about this stuff to instill it in their corporate cultures.
Cheers.