In a post-apocalyptic world, Bern and Elena are exiled from their village. Their crime? The two women are no longer of child-bearing age.Forced to rely upon traditional wisdom for their survival, Elena and Bern retreat from the remains of civilization to a freezing, desolate landscape where they attempt to continue their lives after the end of the world. When a charismatic stranger from the village arrives seeking their aid, the women must decide whether they will use their knowledge of the past to give the society that rejected them the chance at a future.
I read this on the recommendation of Patricia Ybarra – and because today global cases of Covid-19 reached 600,000 and the death toll exceeds 27,000 and The Unplugging is a play about apocalypse from an Algonquin writer.
What I am interested in here is the way that this dystopia doesn’t seem that far away, but it does move away from the usual super technological versions of dystopia we usually see. I also love the way Nolan makes race appear in the play or perhaps the way the women’s knowledge about the world or way of surviving is related but also unrelated to concepts of "race." The play reframes these terms in smart, smart ways.
The Unplugging also manages to avoid quite deftly any of the traps described by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz related to “firsting” and “lasting” that usually accompany representations of Indigenous American peoples.
I've read this five times now, and it's so intensely good. I'm absolutely in love with it.
Looking for a play for Grade 9 students: while this won’t work for them, it will at an older age. As stated in other reviews, this works for approaching colonialism, reliance on technology, and trust.
Such an enjoyable play to read. I’d like to see this staged. A great example or Indigenous people living in the present and future and bringing their culture and ancestral knowledge along. A story about indigenous people doesn’t have to be complicated and deep, it just needs to be told.
Yes, let's definitely have more like this. I do really love this script, a nice tight 3 person play - apocalypse YES, older women characters YES, Indigenous YESSSSSS - I think it might have been oversold so that I had perhaps expected it to be pure magic, which it's not quite that ambitious. And that one star missing is really just me not expecting an understated meditation on the apocalypse. It also makes me want to make a list of older people are great and surviving the apocalypse stuff... From my own to-read shelf, I can think of one more that's def about that nexus: Dendera next. Oh, also wintery like the start of this one, so I can imagine a wintery-themed reading schedule.
Very fast read which belies the depth of the work. A meditation on community, age, resilience, interconnectedness and technology. I would love to see this staged, there's not a lot of dystopian pieces out there starring two old ladies!
I love post-apocalyptic literature that isn't about terror but rather just having nothing. Reminds me of I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman and the film Triangle of Sadness directed by Ruben Östlund
This is a reread. This is the kind of reread that is pretty much the prime example of why I ever reread things I gave middling ratings/reviews to in the first place, and I want to talk about it.
When I first read The Unplugging, it was in 2014, shortly after it was originally published as a book. I gave it three stars, and although I didn't review it (it was eleven years ago and I hadn't started to regularly review everything I read as I do now) I do remember a lot of my thoughts on it. I had never read a play outside of school, and I actually didn't realise it was a play when I took it home from the library. It was on a display, I read the back cover and thought the description sounded fascinating, and I took it home assuming it was a short literary novel. I had been reading a few literary novels and novellas in the year or two leading up to this as I had been trying to branch out from what I had typically been reading (which was honestly pretty narrow at the time, and it had put me into something of a reading slump). So I brought it home and started reading it and immediately realised it was not prose, it was a play. I decided to roll with it because the description really did sound fascinating and I figured a play would get me outside of my usual reading habits. I hadn't really gotten the hang of reading plays for pleasure though, so it didn't exactly land with me, especially since I hadn't initially intended to read a play when I grabbed it. It's also worth noting that I did not really realise the playwright and the protagonists of the play are Indigenous. I wasn't really aware of a lot of the history of Indigenous peoples, the physical and social violence of colonialism, the forms of genocide that took place, or the cultural history, traditions, languages, etc of Indigenous peoples. Most of the knowledge that I had was very minimal and amounted to what I had learned in school (in the 2000s in Canada, so, you know, not exactly Indigenous centered in any way) or the occasional news story. I was woefully under-educated, and it would be maybe a year after I read this that I would start making a conscious effort to change that, and a couple of years after this that I would start to read Indigenous literature more deliberately and extensively. I think that my own shortcomings in regard to both plays and Indigenous literature impeded my ability to actually appreciate what I read here. I remember that I didn't dislike it, I simply failed to connect with and appreciate it. I'm honestly embarrassed that I lacked so much knowledge in 2014, but I am grateful I've had the chance to continue to learn and expand my worldview since then, and I'm grateful that that's something I can continue to do (I'm sure that in another decade I will be embarrassed by the things I didn't know now).
After eleven years, I figured it was time to give it a reread. I have read plays for pleasure much more extensively the last few years in particular, and I've educated myself when it comes to colonial history and Indigenous culture, so I thought that it would be worth trying again, especially after so long. I feel like I was much more able to meet the work at its own level, and I'm so glad I gave this a reread.
The Unplugging follows two women in the aftermath of the "unplugging," when all electricity stopped flowing, modern technology came to an end, and something of an apocalypse triggered in all of the chaos. These two women have been exiled from their community because they are too old to bear children and weren't "pulling their weight." The women use their traditional knowledge and their friendship with one another to pull themselves through and get by through a harsh winter. A young man appears in the midst of this, from their community, and pushes their ideas of what it means to share knowledge, trust anyone other than themselves, and ultimately what it means to survive.
The play is quite short, but it really packs a punch. Much of it reads as allegorical for colonisation (the women are driven from their own community, and when anyone approaches where they have moved on to, they fear that it is only to wipe them out), which is a fascinating perspective I hadn't considered at the time. I also love how much of the play emphasises the importance of traditional knowledge and community building. The story is incredibly satisfying, and the characters are deeply sympathetic. Although I think it is brilliant as is, I would have loved to see this be twice as long.
In short, I loved this play. I am so incredibly glad that my library continues to keep a copy on the shelf so that I could have the chance to reread it. I'm glad that I reread it. I would absolutely jump at the chance to see The Unplugging performed on stage. I would highly recommend this one.
This is a great post-apocalyptic play, in which two older women get exiled from a community of survivors in Canada following some kind of catastrophe where all the world's electronics stop working. The two women, Bern and Elena, find a cabin and begin setting up a makeshift life for themselves, scrounging supplies from nearby cabins, trapping and hunting, and recovering some of the survival knowledge of their Indigenous ancestors. When a young man named Seamus shows up, apparently exiled from the same community, Bern and Elena are bitterly divided on whether to take him in or drive him away. Bern wants to trust him and teach him their survival skills, but Elena is unwilling to take the risk. It drives a wedge between them. But when Seamus leaves, stealing some of their food and supplies, it seems Elena was right. However, when he later returns, we learn that both women were right--Elena's distrust was founded, but Bern's generosity in sharing their knowledge (which she asserts doesn't belong to them as such, but is meant to be shared) convinced Seamus to return to the community and try to change it from a starving, collapsing autocracy run by a feudal style warlord into a supportive, sustainable community built on reverence for nature and the value of human beings living collaboratively.