Planet of the Apes Question Swiftly
In his introduction to the Penguin Classics edition, Brian Aldiss classifies this story as a piece of Swiftian fiction, characterized by it's 'bouleversements', meaning 'a turning over of the ball'. Aldiss compares it to parts of Gulliver's Travels, and to The Island of Doctor Moreau and Animal Farm, all of which are satires. What did this book have in common with these? What was different? Do you enjoy Swiftian satire? Can you think of any others?
Comments
Satire in general - sometimes this works for me, sometimes not. One of my favourite very early SF books, _The Blazing World_, by Margaret Cavendish in 1666, is highly satirical and I love it. Swift at his best is great. The risk is, of course, that we no longer recognise the target of the satire so miss much of the point - this happens with both of those authors. I kind of have a feeling that satire as a written form flourished a couple of centuries ago and has now largely shifted into journalism and comedy, eg Private Eye, Spitting Image etc. I'm sure there are modern satires that I can't think of, but a great deal of social commentary in fiction seems nowadays to be very serious and direct.
I didn't get the introduction in my Kindle version, but I agree it's definitely satire. The book very much points out the horrors of our treatment of animals. But I think Boulle deflated that at the end of the book by saying the apes started by mostly imitating humans. I think the satire would have been stronger if the apes were the creators of their own success, rather than inheriting everything from humans.
Richard is right: that doesn't really come across in the films.
As a satire I found it pretty crude. I think part of the problem was that only the narrator maintains his intelligence, but why? For me that "heroic individual" aspect interfered with the social critique, and it was just another John Carter on Mars kind of book.
@RichardAbbott My two cents: Frame stories interfere with trance-like absorption with the protagonist's identity, because the reader is involved in a two stage redefinition of "I", which enables critical distance with the text. So if you're looking to tap into less critical aspects of human experience which you hope will continue to function after the narrative is completed, they have to be dropped.
@NeilNjae I agree that it was deflated by making the apes simply imitations, which I suppose was intended to be an ironic stance on the pride of most humans with regard to their achievements. This is why I think say Animal Farm works better.
Yes, understood. I wonder whether a frame story only really works in books rather than films, precisely because of the reason you say. Except, perhaps, for the much more easily assimilated frame where the outer layer is the protagonist (or witness of events) as an old person looking back - that way you avoid the redefinition of "I".
Except that Ulysse is not heroic - he's more a villain than a hero. Smug at first, then a victim, and when finally free, he resorts to his old humanist ways.
On the other hand (for most of us, I suspect, though not all) the frame story associates you with Ulysse before you've even met him. We assumed the frame characters were humans - what else could they be? (and even if you didn't - wouldn't you have, if you were not presuming an author's trick? Imagine reading this fresh.) So yes, nous sommes meroux, aussi.
Sadly I haven't yet read animal farm. My take away from the ending is that we're all destined to be apes, in the end. And that the apes are not just copies, but superior - they have no armies, for example. The strife we see among the apes of the films (especially the last one) is absent from the book. And those few who refuse to become apes will be outcast - lost in space.
> Sadly I haven't yet read animal farm. My take away from the ending is that we're all destined to be apes, in the end. And that the apes are not just copies, but superior - they have no armies, for example. The strife we see among the apes of the films (especially the last one) is absent from the book. And those few who refuse to become apes will be outcast - lost in space.
That prompted a kind of internal debate in me... What was the _real_ message here? Was it "apes are superior" - probably not, as there's quite a lot of exposition about their own inter-species rivalry. Was it "humans aren't as destined for greatness as lots of people think" - which would fit with an overall theme of satire in general, viz. to deflate pomposity and self-importance. Was it "humans would have been better if they'd continued growing up with other hominids like Neanderthals" - which may be true but is a bit abstract as a theme. Or something else entirely?
The message I took from the book is that we should treat animals more humanely. We shouldn't put them in zoos, we shouldn't use them for medical experiments, we shouldn't hunt them. The human/ape role reversal was there to build empathy for animals by showing us what it would be like in their place.
This book is fifty years old and I think the debate about ethical treatment of animals has moved on a lot from when it was written.
I think that's a fine message to take, and I do think there's an element of that in the book, but I don't think that's him main message. I think the message is more that we are all animals at heart, all beasts at heart, and that animals are people, too - at heart we're all the same. And by extension, yes, we shouldn't treat each other so.
That is negative. Although Ulysse does go through much of the novel with this smug attitude of superiority, he becomes outcast in the end. There's no room for a superior 'grouper' in the group. And in the end, it's the humans who degenerate - the apes abide. They even get the last word, as Jinn and Phyllis laugh at how ridiculous Ulysse is.
I don't think we should consider Ulysee a character in the traditional sense: he's a mobile viewpoint for the audience as we are shown the satirical world of Soror.
I think that's true, but the book emphasises the treatment of animals rather than explicitly saying anything about a universal truth. I get the feeling Boulle wouldn't care about our motives, so long as we stop putting animals in cages.
> I don't think we should consider Ulysee a character in the traditional sense: he's a mobile viewpoint for the audience as we are shown the satirical world of Soror.
Not sure what you mean by traditional sense. My point is that he's the only viewpoint for the audience. I consider this is typical of pulp. We are not privy to the subjectivity of anyone else in the story, only to Mérou's understanding of their perspective.
That understanding does not consider their subjectivity as an aspect of the world that matters. They are objects moving in space, who obey a deterministic range of behaviours. That is why the apes are organized by species: They do not have "true" individuality, but merely express what they are limited to by their biology, and their importance and their actions are interpreted entirely through the lens of what the protagonist wants.
@Apocryphal It's possible that Boulle intended to skewer the attitude outlined above. OTOH there was a dismissive attitude to others throughout the book, which was never recanted. I can't recall a single instance when someone corrected our protagonist, and he thought to himself, "That person knows more than me." Did any character take a noble action, or were they all in it for themselves?Even the other protagonist Phyllis is persuaded that such subjectivity is not to be found anywhere other than me or mine, and dresses up for sex. There is a such a thing as a point being so subtle that it does not actually exist.
Anyway, I consider this kind of self-absorbed hero typical of pulp. I'm not sure that is an aspect of fairytale, but I haven't thought much about it. But pulp also usually includes some self sacrifice, and some positive acknowledgement of communal emotion. Happy if you can show it to me here.
I found the discussion about pulp fascinating, and it made me realise that my perception of pulp is that it's basically light entertainment not intended to make you think much. That might be a Very Good Thing some of the time (every so often I crave down time with some EE (Doc) Smith sci-fi nonsense) but sets it apart from fiction that's meant to challenge or provoke in some way.
Now I'm sure that Boulle wanted people to think about what he was saying - even if we're not collectively sure what that was - and not just treat it as an adventure romp through the jungle with some dress-up elements. So the fact that Ulysse is not a very rounded or likeable character (for me) doesn't make it pulp, but sets it in its satire context. After all, Gulliver isn't always likeable in his Travels, and in part he's there so that we as readers not only appreciate the folly of the institutions in focus, but also the folly of our own reaction and participation in that - Gulliver is a stand in for Everyman Reader, so shouldn't have too much individuality otherwise it gets progressively harder to identify with him.
I didn't identify with anyone in the book. No one seemed real, just animatronic constructs designed to spew forth various positions. Obviously, I am utterly alone in this.
No, I think you're entirely correct. This is a book that is Making A Point and isn't subtle about it.
For those who would like some virtual monkey-related entertainment, and are also curious about how many monkeys it would really take to produce art, you could check out the following Journal Article:
A Million Monkeys and Shakespeare
https://academic.oup.com/jrssig/article/8/4/190/7029904