Graphic by Audrey Hanan '28
By Quill Nishi-Leonard ’27
Editor-in-Chief
Years before she published this year’s Common Read, “Parable of the Sower,” Octavia Butler wrote and released “Dawn.” “Dawn” is one of the most brilliant and creative science fiction works I’ve ever read, and my personal favorite among the first contact subgenre, which comprises works of fiction dealing in humanity’s first contact with alien life. Throughout the book, Butler jumps to confront often-warring ideas about autonomy, adaptation, imperialism, gender and anthropocentrism — the idea that humans are inherently superior to all other lifeforms — head-on. Time and time again, she sticks the landing.
The book opens with its protagonist, Lilith Iyapo, waking up in a white room that appears to be some sort of prison cell. This is the slowest part of the novel, and once Lilith is let out of the room, the pace quickly accelerates. She comes to learn that she has been “rescued” — though the use of that word is somewhat debatable — from an apocalyptic Earth by a group of aliens known as the Oankali. Lilith also learns that there are other survivors from Earth who she must unite and ensure the wellbeing of, similarly to Lauren Olamina’s task from “Parable.” However, the Oankali haven’t been preserving humanity for free, and expect a rather hefty return on their investment.
Lilith is a more mature and less sheltered version of Lauren in a lot of ways. She’s highly educated, incredibly adaptable, resilient and future-focused. Before the world ended, she had a husband and a son, and studied anthropology at university. She applies her previous experiences and skills to connect with other survivors and study the Oankali, which gives her narration a unique perspective I don’t think any other character could’ve provided.
Many of Lilith's accompanying survivors are from the Anglosphere and Europe, and while the survivors’ home countries may be dead, their legacies of prejudice and oppression aren’t. Out of all the survivors, Lilith is the strongest and most knowledgeable, but she often struggles to maintain control of the group. Many of her charges simply aren’t interested in listening to her or following her rules.
Many first contact stories will cast aside the nuances of human identity to create a “unified” humanity in opposition to alien forces, but Butler takes a much more nuanced and, in my opinion, realistic approach. As a Black woman, Lilith has to work overtime to ensure the safety of those who are rather ungrateful and unkind to her. It often felt as if the men of the group presented a greater imminent threat to Lilith and the other women than the Oankali.
The angle through which Butler tackles the subject of sexual violence from in “Parable” is a direct continuation of the approach she takes throughout “Dawn.” Sexual violence is too often treated as a formative experience for women characters; something that opens the eyes of the ingénue to the cruel reality she lives in. It's simultaneously sensationalized and normalized in the worst way possible. Butler's take on the issue — that sexual violence is both everyday and repugnant, and that having experienced it has no bearing on the character of a survivor — is refreshing.
Butler's wonderful disinterest in bloodshed and warfare is a fixture of the novel. Characters occasionally reference the events that led to the end of the world, but it's not a focus of the story. Outbreaks of interpersonal violence persist amongst the humans, but more time is devoted to the social and psychological implications of that violence than describing it in action. That being said, a lack of outright violence doesn’t necessarily mean “Dawn” is a cozy story. Discomfort’s reign is perhaps even more supreme than that of the aliens.
The alien society of the story is characterized by an unwavering, all-consuming and almost soft systemic violence that fluctuates in volume between near silent white noise and an overwhelming cacophony. The Oankali seem more likely to mournfully smother you with a pillow than to angrily bludgeon you to death. It’s clever, interesting and not necessarily what one might expect from an expansionist alien species. Psychological and existential horror assume the place of genre-typical gore and battle.
“Dawn” is also relatively accessible because of this. While it has its moments, I didn’t find it to be a particularly graphic narrative. Think more along the lines of Vince Gilligan’s “Pluribus” than Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road,” as far as end-of-world stories go. For the discerning reader, I would caution that the interactions between the humans and the Oankali are still — perhaps expectedly — rife with issues surrounding consent and communication. The Oankali are delightfully flawed and problematic, as are many of the humans. I enjoyed this, but I also understand many may not.
In conclusion, I would personally choose to cohabit with a genderless alien over a human man. Even if the survival of humanity as we know it was in jeopardy. Thank you, Octavia Butler.
Sophie Francis ’28 and Maeve McCorry ’28 contributed fact-checking.