Ally Condie – Matched

matched
Describing Matched will make you run away. It’s the serious person’s worst nightmare. Think of every recent Young Adult cliche, and it’s here. Matched Is a story of an ordinary girl in an oppressive-benign society caught between the Stable Guy and Mysterious Dude. There isn’t even something underneath all these cliches to justify it. The novel doesn’t use these tropes in a new, original way.

Yet it’s charming and a pleasant read. Instead of being a chore, that type of novel that makes you visibly angry it’s fun. It’s as if someone stripped City of Bones of the overwriting and Divergent from the pretense. Matched never, for a second, pretends it’s important. It’s a band that gets on stage, kicks some catchy riffs for half an hour and gets off.

Is that worthy of praise? I don’t know. The novel’s roots are in a genre driven by meaning and depth. Dystopian literature doesn’t exist to romanticize revolutionary and shooting people. Dystopian is a genre of ideas. Matched isn’t interested in exploring its ideas even if the big organization is given a few moments to express itself. It cares more about its love story and the excitement of being a teenager.

Condie’s strength is that she never, for a second, pretends it’s anything other than a love story filled with teenage silliness. Every idea and symbol are explained, and it feels like Condie strips the wrappers to show us there isn’t a new idea here. It helps to refocus us, to remind us we’re not in here to explore the dystopia.

She can’t even come up with unique names. Her big organization is called the Society and everyone already said that its idea is basically The Giver. To her credit, it’s a better version of that book. That one was anti-communist agitprop. The Society in Matched still has plenty of inequality. Its flaws aren’t just sentimental, ‘equality makes us all boring’. It shows that in order for some people to live well, others have to sacrifice themselves.

Don’t let it fool you. These little bits are nothing like the romance which is the novel’s true purpose. Oddly, no matter how cliched it is, it’s successful. The story is focused and well-paced. Since it never pretends to be meaningful, it devotes all it sources to capturing those stupid feelings when you’re first in half.

The writing, if not unique, gets the point. There is a youthful energy and sentimentality to it. Cassia may not be developed or unique, but the writing does make her a believable teenager. In fact, the cliched ideas contribute to it. Teenagers are ignorant and their deep thoughts are often more passionate than deep. The writing has all this passion and none of the depth. Perhaps it’s an accident, but it’s fairly realistic.

Since Condie is concerned more with teenage life, the novel doesn’t punish the reader with action scenes. Action scenes rarely work in novels. They’re mostly vague descriptions about bullets flying and people screaming from pain. The story in Matched is more personal, more concerned with relationships developing and changing. That gives it a little humanity and puts it above novels like Divergent. Condie may not be able to develop these characters, but at least she treats them like human beings and let them act like ones. The novel’s focus on the characters’ emotions makes it more thrilling and engrossing than a long-winded blow-by-blow account of a fight.

It could’ve been profound, but it’s shallow. No one actually has a personality. The situation she creates rely on character interactions, though. So with enough passionate writing, she manages to create the illusion of character-driven story. At least it’s a better way to progress the story. Instead of jumping from action scene to action scene, each scene is a clear progression in the relationships.

The romance itself is the strongest part, but I’m not sure if it’s praiseworthy. Common criticism of teen romance don’t apply here. The two dudes are decent people. The mysterious guy is mysterious in a benign way. He knows more about the outside and he likes poetry, but he’s never aggressive or stalking. The love triangle almost makes sense. Cassia has a reason to be attracted to both of them since both have different, but good traits.

Is it good though? It’s fun and the youthful exciting is charming, but that’s all it has. The characters have no personality whatsoever. The world is slightly better than The Giver, but not by much. The storytelling is focused and not rambling, but it doesn’t lead to anywhere.

The charm of Matched is good enough to make it bearable. It’s a novel that takes all the YA tropes and knows how to make them work just enough. If you want a pure, silly YA novel with no depth that’s not annoying this is it. But, in a way, it feels like we’re praising the novel more for not being City of Bones.

3 dystopias out of 5

Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures

joydivision

I am depressed.

Like many angry young men, I had a philosophy I stuck with. I thought that sticking to my principles was itself an admirable trait. Hypocrisy was defined as changing your mind. Since I wanted the moral high ground, among the reasons because I didn’t have much to boast about, hypocrisy was out of the question. The world was wrong. I was right. My opinion will defeat you all.

I was angry, but there was some sort of confidence. The path was clear. I thought I knew everything, which meant I knew where I was going. I also was, apperantly, as rational I bragged about. My ideas kept being challenged. They gradually changed. It didn’t happen over time, but I went from thinking sex is an evil force to it being something positive that we just can’t handle. I went from hating alcohol and all drugs to understand each drug should be judged on its own. I went from thinking you don’t need friends to thinking being social is a necessity.

The music I used to listen to back then was loud and angry. It also used to have something resembling confidence. I blasted Nu Metal, which was angry but had bravado. A little later I found myself blasting Nine Inch Nails, Local H Marilyn Manson. That’s when the self-doubt and self-loathing reared their heads. The anger at everyone was still there, but I started to admit I’m confused. There was even a brief period of listening to a lot of Glassjaw, which helped me through my toughest heartbreak.

After about eight years of exploring music, here I am finally listening to Unknown Pleasures. The album was always there. Its influence is everywhere on my favorite music. It took all these years, and all these changings of the mind for me to ‘get’ the album.

That’s not really a good thing.

That’s because I’m not that angry anymore. I don’t have the energy to hate the world, or women, or sex, or television. Everything just seems hopeless and meaningless. Everything is bad, but nothing specific and there’s no ideal to fight for. It’s an emptiness, which this album describes perfectly.

Sparse is the common description for Unknown Pleasures. You couldn’t find a better one. A band member said the producer made them sound like Pink Floyd, but Pink Floyd had space. The sparseness of Unknown Pleasures is not just a production technique but the way the songs work. Nothing takes the center. Nothing drives the songs, beyond the drums in “She’s Lost Control”. It’s no coincidence it’s the most accessible thing here.

“Candidate” and “Interzone” are the two defining tracks here. The first is the emptiest thing here. Its last seconds sound emptier than silence, and the guitars barely appear in it. “Interzone”, on the other hand, is an attempt to inject some energy. There’s even a guitar riff that could make for a nice single. Even that’s pushed to the back though. The song is a fast driving rocker, yet the guitar is distant and Ian Curtis sounds like he knows it won’t end well, but fuck it he’ll try anyway.

The sequencing is also great. Unknown Pleasures is not a concept album, but it flows like an exploration of a depressed mind. “Disorder” feels slightly brighter and rational, while “Day of the Lords” sink back into complete agony. On the aforementioned “Candidate”, the agony went for so long that there’s no longer will to express it. “Wilderness” and “Interzone” offer a glimmer of hope. The first speeds up things a little, as if the protagonist saw the light. “Interzone” has already been discussed. Then the album ends with “I Remember Nothing”, which sinks back into the emptiness.

It’s a wonder that the whole band didn’t kill themselves after this record. There is sadness, and there is emptiness. A strong feeling of sadness might still imply there could still be something out there, something worth feeling bad over. The emptiness of Unknown Pleasures says there’s nothing worth looking back at and nothing worth looking forward to. Doesn’t that sound like a suicidal mind?

Post script: This review was written a long time ago but I didn’t want to post it. I don’t know if things changed since I wrote it. My environment did, but the future still looks cloudy. I haven’t gotten over that emptiness. Things are better than before, but not by much.

3.5 days out of 5 lords