First, let me just say that this is by far my favorite story so far. The writing style isn’t anything overly impressive, but Nancy Farmer sure knows how to tell a story.
Note: if it seems like there are too many ideas shoved together, it’s because I am too excited while writing about this book — I could write a very long paper on this one.
While the other stories we’ve read in class so far have been about aliens, deformed beasts, dystopic cities, etc., this book takes place in a world very much like our own, with very slight technological advancements placed into the plot line. As someone who never read much science fiction before this semester (if any), this is a pleasant change. The familiarity of the settings, the colloquialism of the speech, and the simplicity of the plot structure all aid in creating a more tangible world than some of the other stories we’ve read. This doesn’t merely serve to entice people into finishing the book, but it also shines a clearer light on society as it is today. Whereas other books were dealing with organic space ships or holographic projections, The House of the Scorpion deals with the opium trade, contemporary materialism, and childhood bullies. The science fiction elements are almost a secondary element to in the book. Instead, the raw human emotions the story creates when Tom bullies Matt, or when Maria won’t listen to him, are the driving force in the story; the technology and science are merely plot devices. This says something about the continuity of the human condition. We are gently placed into another, slightly altered, world and are unsure whether it’s supposed to be the future, or the past, or the present; this ambiguity helps the story to show the timelessness of the relationships which occur in the book — the environment has changed, but people haven’t.
Another interesting thing to note about this book is that, while most of the texts we’ve read this semester have involved either aliens conflicting with humans, humans conflicting with monsters, or humans conflicting with computers, this is really the first time (besides Blade Runner) that we see humans conflicting with humans (if we accept Matt as a human). I don’t know how others have reacted to the story, but the moment I found how that Matt is a clone, I knew that a big question would be: is Matt a human? I immediately knew my answer: yes. We don’t read this book as a story about an opium farmer finding the fountain of youth in “vat-grown” clones; instead, we read it as a story about a terrified little boy — with all the intellect, curiosity, and wonder that one could ever hope for – being mistreated, forgotten, and misunderstood by his peers, the adults, and even his companion(s). Yes, I felt bad for Frankenstein’s monster. Yes, I was glad that Case survived. However, the two most emotionally gripping stories we’ve dealt with this semester, for me, have been Blade Runner and this text. There is something about the fact that these clones are identical to humans in every way, emotionally, physically, mentally, and yet, the antagonists the stories refuse to see them as anything but a nuisance.
The biggest question I want to see answered are:
1) Does El Patron actual love Matt? If so, is he merely in love with himself, or is he in love with the things that make Matt different from himself?
2) Why was Matt created? Was it to replace El Patron, to provide immediate organ matches for El Patron, etc.?
3) Does anyone ever love him for who, despite what, he is, besides Celia?
I could go on, and on…and on about this book, but I am going stop here and continue reading.
