Kallocain

by Karin Boye

Kallocain beskriver ett framtida samhälle där allt sker för Statens bästa. Människorna övervakas och kontrolleras ständigt. För att hjälpa Staten att bli mer effektiv, har Leo Kall uppfunnit ett medel - kallocain. Det får människorna att avslöja sina innersta tankar. Men då visar det sig att många drömmer om en helt annan sorts samhälle. Boken är en kuslig vision av den totalitära statens skräckvälde. Men den skildrar också en stark tro på människans förmåga att skapa en annan, levande värld.

Dystopin Kallocain utkom 1940 och är Karin Boyes sista och mest kända roman. Den har jämförts med världsklassiker som 1984 av George Orwell och Du sköna nya värld av Aldous Huxley. Boye hämtade inspiration till boken i samhällsutvecklingen i Tyskland och Sovjetunionen före andra världskriget.

Klassiker ger en djupare förståelse för vår tid och kan användas i undervisningen. Under konceptet Tidlösa berättelser ger vi ut lättlästa versioner av klassiker och sagor som är just tidlösa. Tack vare det kan alla elever oavsett läsförmåga läsa samma berättelse, men i olika utgåvor.

Genres: Classics, Dystopia, Science Fiction, Fiction, Swedish Literature, Sweden, Scandinavian Literature

90 pages, Kartonnage

First published January 1, 1940

About the author

Karin Boye was a Swedish poet and novelist.

She is perhaps most famous for her poems, of which the most well-known ought to be "Yes, of course it hurts" (Swedish: "Ja visst gör det ont") and "In motion" (Swedish: "I rörelse"). She also wrote a few novels including "Kallocain". Inspired by the rise of National Socialism in Germany, it was a portrayal of a dystopian society in the vein of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four and Huxley's Brave New World (though written almost a decade before Nineteen Eighty-Four). In the novel, an idealistic scientist named Leo Kall invents Kallocain, a kind of truth serum.

Boye died in an apparent suicide when swallowing sleeping-pills after leaving home on April 23, 1941.

Reviews

[Sofia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't know how famous Kallocain or Karin Boye are outside Sweden, but she's pretty much one of our most renowned authors. I actually read this book back in 2007, but today at the flea market I just so happened upon a FREAKIN' ORIGINAL COPY FROM 1940 AND BOUGHT IT FOR FIVE FREAKIN' CROWNS! IT'S AMAZING AND SO FRAGILE AND THE PAGES A BLOODY HAND-CUT AND I LOVE IIIT!

*Ahem*

Excuse me for that.

So anyway! Kallocain is a dystopian part-scifi about the chemist Leo Kall, who invents the first ever truth-serum - Kallocain - and thereby unlocks doors that were supposed to stay shut. Packed full with social criticism, I think Boye does a good job of building up a world where the biggest problem isn't so much the state, but the mental walls that keep the people from each other.

My favourite parts are undoubtedly the ones where Kallocain is used. Miss Boye does a FANTASTIC job of portraying people under the influence of truth-serum – especially since it’s such a massive contrast to how guarded they usually are. It's almost frightening to read how they can't keep ANYTHING hidden. The book, as far as I remember, is completely devoid of sexual or violent content that could be considered morbid, but the thing is: it doesn't need that. It is raw and real without the shock-value.

Over the last year or so, I've come to almost despise the literary and cinematic culture in my country: the Ingmar Bergmanification (word? It is now!): the hatred for escapism; the inability to create anything that isn't dark, sad and depressing. But while Kallocain is written in much the same spirit, it couldn't have been done any other way. It is one of the first and best examples of Swedish literature and for all you dystopian-fans out there, I think it’s a must read!

[Amy H. Sturgis · Rating 5 out of 5]

This poetic and moving novel deserves to be remembered in the same breath as We, 1984, Brave New World, and other great twentieth-century dystopias.

Leo Kall is a scientist who employs chemistry in the service of the oppressive Worldstate. He develops kallocain, a drug that exposes the private thoughts of his fellow-soldiers, thus paving the way for the Worldstate to ensure that either each individual becomes a "happy, healthy cell in the state organism" or he/she is eliminated.

To quote Leo's thoughts, "from thoughts and feelings, words and actions are born. How then could these thoughts and feelings belong to the individual? Doesn't the whole fellow-soldier belong to the state? To whom should his thoughts and feelings belong then, if not to the state?"

Kall expects his discovery will be his triumph, his great gift for the common good, but instead it proves to be the instrument of his disillusionment with the Worldstate. Swedish poet and author Karin Boye describes Kall's awakening as an individual in the most poignant and believable of terms, and in so doing she creates a powerful indictment of collectivism (no doubt informed by her observations of Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union). The novel is all the more powerful when one realizes that she committed suicide not long after its publication.

I thoroughly enjoyed Gustaf Lannestock's lyrical translation, and I highly recommend this beautiful book. Like all of the great dystopian works, it continues to have much to say to us today.

A longer review is part of my discussion of novels eligible for the 1941 Retro Hugo Award in "Looking Back on Genre History" on Episode 423 of StarShipSofa.

[☆LaurA☆ · Rating 5 out of 5]

I PENSIERI POSSONO ESSERE CONDANNATI.

Ieri mi è stato fatto un complimento, molto apprezzato anche da una persona sempre insicura come la sottoscritta: faccio analisi molto interessanti e si vede che ci metto passione nelle mie recensioni.
Come dicevo, cerco solo di trasmettere quelle sensazioni che scaturiscono durante la lettura, quelle emozioni che escono ogni volta che i mie occhi scorrono sulle parole.

E a volte penso, ma se tutta questa verità facesse male a qualcuno? Se essere sempre sinceri possa turbare l'animo di una persona a me cara?
Se la KALLOCAINA fosse di dominio pubblico e oltre a smascherare crimini e atrocità metta a nudo il pensiero umano?
È questa la distopia descritta dalla Boye. Quali sarebbero le conseguenze di un siero con queste peculiarità?
Un distopico all'altezza di 1984, un mondo dove lo Stato Mondiale controlla i cittadini in ogni azione, in ogni momento, viene prodotto un siero che può espugnare l'ultima roccaforte della privacy, l'ultimo territorio ribelle dell'essere umano: IL PENSIERO.
Nell'ultima parte dove Leo Kall, accecato dalla gelosia e dall'ansia, utilizza la kallocaina su Linda, sua moglie, mi sono scese le lacrime. Non tanto per l'azione deplorevole in sé, ma tanto per la sincerità che Linda ha avuto anche a conclusione del "trattamento".
È difficile essere sempre e completamente sinceri, la PAURA del giudizio, delle conseguenze ci frena.
Ma forse avere dei "segreti" se così vogliamo catalogarli, non è sempre un male.
Se siete amanti del genere non potete non leggerlo ed io proseguirò con NOI di Evgenij Zamjatin.

[Foz ☀️ · Rating 3.75 out of 5]

فكرة هذه الرواية مُرعبة، لك أن تتخيل بأن الدولة تستخدم العلماء وتشجعهم على تصنيع عقار في مباني ومختبرات مخصصة، هذا العقار يحقنونه للناس لكشف ما بدواخلهم لكشف أسرارهم ولكشف كل شيء غائب عن أنظار حكومتهم. هنا تأتي الرواية على لسان العالم الكيميائي الموالي للدولة "ليو كالوكين" الذي اكتشف هذا العقار العجيب وسماه على اسمه واسم الرواية أتت على ذلك النحو، ستقوم هذه الدولة باستخدام هذا العقار لصالحها. هُدمت بيوت وسببت الطلاق وفرّقت الأقارب وعُدِموا ناس أبرياء بسبب هذه الحقنة.

الرواية للكاتبة السويدية كارين بوي وكتبت هذه الرواية الديستوبية عام 1940، يُقال بأن جورج أورويل أستلهم فكرة “1984” منها الذي صدرت عام 1949 لكن لم تصح هذه المعلومة لأن لا دليل على ذلك، عالم هذه الرواية تسوده الرعب والصمت، وهذه أجواء الديستوبيا بشكل عام، لكن العجيب قراءتها في هذا الوقت ومقارنتها بعالمنا الحديث وما يحصل من مجريات. بسبب عقار الكالوكين ستُكشف كل الأسرار للدولة وستترتب العواقب على كل شخص من صغيرهم إلى كبيرهم.

"كم يؤسفني أنَّ الدولة لم تطلب منِّي تضحيةً أعظم، فأنا جاهز
لكلِّ شيء ".

"نحن نعيش في دار المتطوّعين... لسنا سوى حطام بشر".

"المرء بحاجة إلى حاضرٍ، كما تعلم، وليس فقط ذكرى لحظةٍ ماضية، حتى يستمرَّ في العيش بقية أيام حياته"

[Ajeje Brazov · Rating 5 out of 5]

La Distopia è quella forma di racconto, dove il narratore racconta di un Mondo futuro immaginario, ma tangibile e dove uno Stato totalitario, oppressore, mina le libertà degli individui che vivono in esso.
Perchè si scrivono opere distopiche? Io penso per liberarsi da un peso, come se il/la protagonista sia proprio lo/la scrittore/trice.
Qui in "Kallocaina" la scrittrice, in pieno scoppio della Seconda Guerra Mondiale, siamo nel 1940, vede nella situazione mondiale un pericolo per le libertà fondamentali ed essenziali che ogni essere vivente dovrebbe avere: il Nazismo, il Comunismo, Il Fascismo, insomma tutti i regimi dittatoriali presenti in quel tragico periodo storico, ne sono un esempio più che chiaro.

Kallocaina è scritto sotto forma di diario, il protagonista scoprirà...

Insomma, non mi va di parlare di più della trama, rovinerebbe tutta la magia e l'atmosfera che questo romanzo riesce a creare in poco più di 200 pagine.
Karin Boye ha una scrittura molto ricercata, molto poetica, la tragicità della situazione interiore di fronte: all'assopirsi dei dettami propri di una società basata sulla generosità, sull'amore, sull'amicizia e sulla fratellanza tra i popoli ed invece all'acuirsi di una società decadente di valori naturali, facendo sì che l'essere umano diventi sempre più freddo, calcolatore, malvagio e scostante verso i sentimenti più intimi dell'essere, vengono resi attraverso le pagine con stupefacente maestria, con tragica musicalità, le frasi scorrono via veloci e si imprimono nella mente lasciando una scia nebulosa di riflessioni sulla società, sulla civiltà che sta perdendo la forma che gli era naturale e cioè quella di amore reciproco.
L'ho letto con un coinvolgimento raro, le distrazioni ci sono e sono sempre in agguato: un clacson, delle urla per strada, la televisione o la radio accesa, persone che parlano e queste distrazioni, che normalmente cerco di tacciare evitandole, questa volta mi opprimevano a tal punto che volevo davvero estraniarmi come in una bolla. Ecco questo romanzo è uno di quei libri da leggere nella tranquillità esterna ed interiore totali, perchè ogni pagina, ogni frase è un monito, una riflessione, filosofica, politica, intima, a guardarsi intorno e soprattutto a guardarsi e a scrutarsi nel proprio io.

Kallocaina si innesta tra i grandi romanzi distopici classici mondiali. Scritto nel 1940 guarda a Noi di Zamjatin e a Il mondo nuovo di Huxley e fa da ponte a 1984 di Orwell e Fahrenheit 451 di Bradbury. La poetica tragica che come una nube tossica tutto ammanta, mi ha fatto riandare alle pagine splendide di Noi, ma per la scalata alla consapevolezza lunga, dura e dolorosa, mi ha ricordato moltissimo 1984.
Tutto questo però non mina assolutamente l'originalità e la particolarità di un romanzo, Kallocaina appunto, che merita molta più visibiltà, per la chiara e precisa predizione di un futuro totalitario, dove tutti siamo controllati, schedati...
Abbiamo e stiamo continuando a perdere molte delle nostre libertà, libri come questo sono dei tesori che dovremmo leggere e rileggere all'infinito e custodire. Capolavoro assoluto!

Libro che volevo leggere da tanto tempo e che grazie a @Ellis ho letto il prima possibile :-)

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

You know the feeling when you read something you know is good, I mean not just because others have told you so but because you can actually feel it when you read the book? You read on and you still get the feeling that this is a good book...

...and yet you don't particularly care for it. This was such a book for me. I can understand why it's a classic, well known, and I'm glad that I've read it. But still my feelings for it are no more than lukewarm.

[Bjorn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Political dystopias found their form in the first half of the 20th century, with books like Zamyatin's We, Huxley's Brave New World and Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four as the big three. Karin Boye's Kallocain (1940) deserves to be mentioned in the same context. It's certainly at least as good, and its central message - that fear, hatred and paranoia demands a conscious effort, which cannot be sustained forever - certainly more hopeful, as bleak as the novel and its author's untimely end is.

The setting will be familiar to anyone who's read either of the others; a totalitarian state (officially named The World State, even though there are hints that there are other states and occasional wars), "sometime in the 21st century", where the government controls everything. Children are raised by the state and separated from their parents for good when they hit puberty, every aspect of life is rationalised, standardised and specialised with no free will at all, everyone is taught that they exist solely to serve the state, and it goes without saying that the police have spy cameras and microphones everywhere.

Except in people's minds, obviously.

That is, until the chemist Leo Kall stumbles across a new chemical compound, which he names after himself and which proves to be a perfect truth serum. Kallocain works a little like alcohol, he speculates (alcohol, of course, was banned several generations ago); rather than force people to tell the truth, it simply makes them want to stop lying. Shoot them up and they relax, smile and tell you everything that they've been trying to keep hidden. Perfect for convicting criminals, he thinks - except pretty soon it becomes obvious that it can do so much more. Suddenly the state can prosecute people for their thoughts, and Kall is expected to help - but what if it turns out that the worst threat to a totalitarian government isn't a few isolated pockets of convinced political dissidents, but simply people being people, telling stories and listening to music you can't even march to? And what does it mean for his own marriage to a wife he can't help but suspect of being disloyal to him (in itself of course a crime, since they're both supposed to be loyal only to the state)? What is this word "soul" he keeps hearing the suspects mention, which doesn't seem to serve any purpose at all...?

Kallocain clearly owes a lot to Huxley (it predates Orwell's book by several years), but in a way, it's a very different animal. Boye was first and foremost a poet and that sensibility shows in her SF writing even though the narrator Kall is a pretty cold fish at first. She largely stays away from the big political questions; they're there, definitely, and we find out enough about the world Kall lives in to understand it, but the focus is still on personal politics; about what living under constant pressure to be quiet, lie and serve others does to people. It's tempting, of course, to read it not only in a 1940s context - trapped in a world of totalitarian thinking that created both Stalin and Hitler and the people fighting them, and the big war just starting to gather steam - but also in relation to Boye's personal life; as a lesbian, she faced a very real risk of getting thrown in jail simply for existing, and it's quite likely that that pressure led to her suicide a year after Kallocain came out. But even so, 70 years later, there's something in Kallocain that manages to make it positively uplifting. Because what the smiles on the faces of the victims say as they incriminate themselves is "this is not us. We are human beings, we are fucked up and not always good, but as long as it takes a conscious effort to suppress ourselves, we can never be automatons in the long run."

ETA 160625: Det finns en strålande anpassning för radioteater från 1966 på Sveriges Radios sida. Gunnar Björnstrand! Erland Josephson!

[مجیدی‌ام · Rating 4 out of 5]

*بدون خطر لو رفتن داستان

کالوکائین، من رو یاد آخرین کتاب جهان انداخت!
با اینکه سبک پادآرمان‌شهری داشت، ولی در بین بقیه‌ی آثار هم‌خانواده‌اش، حرفی برای زدن داشت!

دنیایی رو تصور کنید، که تحت سلطه‌ی یک حکومت دیکتاتوری زندگی‌تون جریان داره...
و این حکومت برای تمام کارهای شما و سایر افراد جامعه تصمیم می‌گیره...
برای شغل‌ها، برای عشق‌ها، برای فرزندآوری‌ها، برای تربیت فرزندان و برای کوچکترین و بزرگترین مسائل زندگی تک تک انسان‌های اون جامعه...
حالا تصور کنید که هرگونه خیانت نسبت به این حکومت، مجازات مرگ در پی داره...
مجازات هر اقدامی، چه به صورت عملی، چه به صورت کلامی، هرچند کوچیک و ناچیز، علیه این حکومت، برابر با مرگه...
لابد به خودتون میگین دیگه از این بدتر نمی‌شه!
ولی اشتباه می‌کنین!
حالا بیاین تصور کنین که، حکومت به نحوی فکر افراد رو هم بخونه...!!
و حالا نه تنها عمل در راستای مخالفت با حکومت مجازاتش مرگه، بلکه حتی افکار منفی در مورد حکومت هم مجازات مرگ در بر داره...
...
این دنیای کالوکائینه! همینقدر سیاه و همینقدر ترسناک...

کالوکائین، کتاب خوبیه که در اون، هم عشق گنجانده شده و هم تنفر، هم استرس و هم آرامش، هم علم و هم حماقت، هم تخیلات و هم واقعیت...!

اگر توضیح بیشتری بدم، داستان کتاب لو میره.

من صرفا چون امتیاز پنج ستاره کامل رو به کتاب‌های شاهکار میدم، و کالوکائین در حد شاهکار نیست، به چهار ستاره اکتفا می‌کنم، ولی بدونین و آگاه باشین که این کتاب فوق العاده‌اس...
اگر از کتاب هزار و نهصد و هشتاد و چهار خوشتون اومده، توصیه‌ام اینه که کالوکائین رو هم بخونید، بی‌شک عاشق‌اش میشید...

[Alwynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Poet and novelist Karin Boye’s Kallocain wasn’t at all what I expected, billed as dystopian fiction bearing traces of Kafka and elements of Zemyatin’s We, it read more like a detailed, psychological character study. When Boye wrote this, WW2 was in progress, the Soviet Union and Germany were allies, highlighting possible global domination by one or the other’s particular brand of totalitarianism. This had been an anxiety of Boye’s for some time. During the 1920s as part of radical Stockholm group Clarte, she took part in an official visit to the Soviet Union and was shocked by what she witnessed there. Then in the 1930s on a trip to Berlin she fell for a young Jewish woman Margot Hanel. They returned to Boye’s home in Sweden but Margot’s experiences and Boye’s perspective on Germany’s future set off concerns about National Socialism’s destructive potential. Yet Kallocain has none of the urgency or melodrama of Orwell’s later 1984 or the explicit world-building of the earlier We. Instead, it’s an introspective account presented by Leo Kall, for twenty years he’s been imprisoned far from his home in Chemical City No. 4, World State, possibly held by its rival power. Kall’s a scientist, he looks back at his time in Chemical City No 4 and his role in the invention of a new drug, he’d hoped to name Kallocain. The drug’s a truth serum of sorts, a single dose results in a subject freely confessing to their crimes or exposing their innermost thoughts. Its operations reminded me of Boye’s extensive involvement in psychoanalytic circles, like a perverse twist on the therapeutic process.

Kall’s tale unfolds slowly, in austere tones. Almost half the novel’s centred on drug trials on live subjects, interspersed with Kall’s private reflections, often drily related. Information about World State’s provided in dribs and drabs or gleaned from brief comments. The overarching features of his society are familiar, citizens are under constant surveillance, organised according to strict hierarchies, children are inculcated with the regime’s beliefs, and there’s an all-pervasive atmosphere of paranoia and distrust. But this isn’t, at least initially, a problem for Kall, in fact it’s welcomed, mistrust and lack of communication between people are the foundation on which World State was built. For Kall its institutions provide order and security despite their focus on perpetual readiness for war. What Boye appears to be doing with Kall is providing a test subject of her own, a means of exploring a personality formed by immersion in or submission to a totalitarian state.

Kall’s a less ideal member of his collective than he claims, he’s ambitious, self-interested, intensely jealous of colleague Rissen, someone he believes may have an emotional connection with Linda, Kall’s wife, that he doesn’t. Kall further justifies his dislike of Rissen by categorising him as possibly anti-social, an outsider posing a threat to World State. Kall’s state of mind suggests his carefully controlled world’s a façade masking a system prey to manipulation by petty individuals, in which he’s as ‘guilty’ as his human guinea pigs. Boye’s underlying critique also deals in issues of gender, Linda’s creative, empathetic role in the narrative’s presented in opposition to Kall’s and his increasingly damaging behaviour. It appears Boye’s not primarily interested in outlining the specifics of an all-encompassing system but in how it might be reproduced and exploited by individuals within it, those who crave power, people not in themselves monstrous but capable of monstrous deeds, and who convince themselves of their superiority in relation to an undesirable other. But in Linda she also offers a form of hope and an alternative way of being. I thought this was an interesting, well-crafted novel, although the arguments it's presenting could be clearer. But, except in its intense, claustrophobic final stages, I didn’t always find it a particularly engaging piece. It was hugely successful on publication, its circulation in occupied parts of Scandinavia aided by its status as science fiction. Unfortunately, Boye didn’t live to see its full impact and continued popularity, she committed suicide in 1941 not long after its initial appearance, Margot followed her a few weeks later.

[Come Musica · Rating 5 out of 5]

“[…] quando sono seduto sulla mia branda, con gli occhi chiusi, mi capita di riuscire a vedere le stelle e di sentire il vento sussurrare come quella notte, e non posso, no, non posso sradicare dal mio animo l’illusione che, malgrado tutto, partecipo ancora alla creazione di un mondo nuovo.”

Leo Kall è uno scienziato che inventa la Kallocaina, il siero della verità. Qual è il prezzo che dovrà pagare perché non riesce a fidarsi fino in fondo né della moglie né dell’amico con cui conduce gli esperimenti?

È sorprendente che questo romanzo sia stato scritto nel 1940; e se è vero che ci sono molti rimandi a 1984 di George Orwell, io ho sentito di più le affinità con i romanzi di Philip K. Dick, tanto che mi sono chiesta quanto Karin Boye conoscesse i lavori di Dick e viceversa.

Un romanzo distopico sul controllo, la manipolazione e l’estorsione della verità così attuale, nonostante siano trascorsi ottant’anni dalla sua prima pubblicazione.

“Siete capaci di ascoltare la verità, voi? La cosa triste è che non tutti sono abbastanza veri da poter sentire la verità. Potrebbe essere un ponte fra gli uomini, finché è volontaria, sì finché è data e ricevuta come un dono gratuito. Non è strano come tutto perda valore non appena cessa di essere un dono, perfino la verità? No, evidentemente non lo avete notato, altrimenti vi sareste accorti di essere miseri, ridotti al nudo scheletro. Ma chi lo sopporterebbe? Chi ha il coraggio di vedere la propria miseria se non vi è costretto? Non costretto dagli altri. Costretto dal vuoto e dal gelo, quel gelo assoluto che ci minaccia tutti. La comunità, dite. La comunità? L’essere uniti? E ve lo gridate separati da un abisso. Non c’era un punto, un unico, solo punto nella lunga evoluzione delle generazioni, in cui si sarebbe potuta prendere un’altra strada? Bisognava proprio passare sopra l’abisso? Nessun punto in cui si sarebbe potuto impedire al carrarmato del Potere di avanzare verso il vuoto? C’è una strada che attraverso la morte porta a una nuova vita? C’è un luogo sacro dove il destino si trasforma?”




Commento a caldo: Che libro!
Chissà se Karin Boye ha mai letto Philip K. Dick o se Philip K. Dick ha mai letto Karin Boye? I rimandi reciproci sono davvero impressionanti!

[A. Raca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ben bu tarz distopik romanları seviyorum. Gerçekleşme ihtimalinin ürküttüğü, içinde bilimin bulunduğu distopyalar.
Burada da 'Dünyadevlet' halkı üstünde egemen, dışarda konuşmanın bile yasak olduğu bir ortam. Kimya Şehri'nde yaşayan Kall ise bir ilaç geliştirir ve artık kimse bir şey saklamayacaktır.
Hainler ortaya çıkacak ve temiz bir toplum ortaya çıkacaktır ya da çıkacak mıdır?
Yazıldığı döneme bakılırsa gerçekten güçlü bir eser.

"İnsan 'yapamıyorum' dediğinde 'yaşayamıyorum' der, 'ölemiyorum' değil; yapabilir insan; insan her zaman ölebilir çünkü o zaman istediği kişi olabilir..."

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

Published in 1940 between Brave New World and 1984, Swedish novelist and poet Karin Boye’s steely, unshowy dystopian novel has now at last been Penguinized and takes its place alongside those two monsters of terrifying presage. In this hellscape, Boye subverts H.G. Wells’s utopian vision of a World State into a totalitarian nightmare, where scientist Kall invents a truth serum—an anti-soma administered by injection—that forces the recipient into a confessional state for several minutes, exhuming all their negative thoughts on the regime. The novel imagines concepts such as the thought police and various menacing ministries before Orwell made them popular, and opts for a flatter, more icy prose style, with Kall as a less odious Mengele figure. While not as stylistically interesting as Huxley or Orwell, and with more mysticism and reliance on characters making long speeches to expand the scope of the imagined world, Kallocain is still a formidable vision of hell and worth discovering.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

In vino veritas

According to roman historian Tacitus some Germanic peoples counseled only while drinking wine, because they believed that the drunk always speak true.

Wine is no longer necessary to loosen one's tongue since Leo Kall developed the drug called Kallocain. Kall is a chemist and the narrator of (t)his story. He is living in Chem(istry)town #4 in a nation called Worldstate. Like everyone else he is a fellow soldier and his work and after hours are filled with duties for the state. He is married with three children and they are living in a small apartment. Camera and microphones (called police eyes and ears) are installed in every room. Kall is actually a rather mediocre citizen until he finds the formula for this new drug. When administered, Kallocain forces people to answer each question truthfully, and to reveal their feelings and thoughts to the interrogators. This comes in quite handy for the state because:

From thoughts and feelings words and actions are born. How is it possible that thoughts and feelings are the private property of the individual? Does not the whole fellow soldier belong to the state? To whom do his thoughts and feelings belong if not the state? Until today there was just no way to control them – but now the agent is found.
(translated by me)

The dystopian world (or utopian, depending from where you look at it) is impressively portrayed. The author was clever enough not to overload the story with too much technical stuff that is either incomprehensible, or has become outdated already. The story focuses on the main character, his psyche, and its immediate surroundings. From the first page the reader knows that Kall is serving a long sentence and he tells his story from prison. One of the questions is why. The answer is not revealed until the very end and it was not what I thought it was. And then there is some kind of afterword that gives the book an additional and unexpected twist. This finally gave the book its fourth star.

The book was written in 1940, so it lies right in the middle between Huxley's Brave new world and Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four. I would argue that Kallocain is neither much better or worse than these two works. The reason this book is not so well known is probably because a) it's from a Swedish author, and b) it's from a female author. Both of these reasons are no reason at all to avoid the book. I admit I had some problems with the prose. Some parts in the middle seem a little rigidly and awkward. But that's probably just the German translation I read. Recommended!

[verbava · Rating 4 out of 5]

коли я вперше прочитала "каллокаїн", то дуже хотіла знайти докази того, що орвел його теж читав. було б гарно: він так розлого висловлюється про те, що гакслі приховує вплив на себе замятіна, а сам ні словом не згадує про карін боє, яка за вісім років до "1984" уже виразно просунулася в бік похмурості антиутопійної держави й розписала механізми стеження за кожною одиницею народонаселення. але ні, навряд, англійською "каллокаїн" переклали тільки в 1966 році, орвел туди зовсім не дожив (як і сама авторка).
ще якісь смішні п'ятдесят років – і опля, у нас є український переклад (і я, приємно вірити, навіть у якийсь спосіб долучилася до такої оперативної його появи).

[Alexander Carmele · Rating 1 out of 5]

Unausgearbeitete Dystopie als Ehepsychodrama – eher verstörendes Zeitdokument.

Inhalt: 1/5 Sterne (pointenloses Eifersuchtsdrama)
Form: 1/5 Sterne (verstörend-dissoziativ)
Erzählstimme: 4/5 Sterne (konsequent Ich-erzählt)
Komposition: 1/5 Sterne (nicht vorhanden)
Leseerlebnis: 1-1=0/5 Sterne (unbefriedigend)
--> 7/5 = 1,4 = 1 Stern

Karin Boye, Lyrikerin, lebte von 1900 bis 1941, ist hauptsächlich durch den dystopischen Roman Kallocain (1940) bekannt. In diesem verarbeitet ein sechzigjähriger Chemiker namens Leo Kall sein Leben zwanzig Jahre zuvor, als er ein nach ihm benanntes Wahrheitsserum erfunden und an Menschen in einem totalitären Staat ausprobiert hat. Unter Einfluss der Droge können die Menschen nicht mehr die Maske aufrechterhalten und geben zu, worum es ihnen wirklich in ihrem Leben geht. Als Rahmenhandlung dient nun Leo Kalls eher problematisch, distanzierte, kühle Ehe mit Linda, mit der er drei Kinder hat, und die unter Applizierung der Droge keine so frohen Botschaften für Kall bereithält:

Ich will etwas sagen oder tun, und ich weiß nicht, was es ist. Vielleicht waren es eine Menge Kleinigkeiten, vielleicht Freundlichkeit, Wohlbefinden und Zärtlichkeit, und wenn sie unmöglich waren, dann war das Große und Wichtige auch unmöglich. Nur etwas weiß ich, und das weiß ich sicher: ich möchte dich töten. Wenn ich nur wüßte, daß es nie entdeckt würde, täte ich es. Was macht es übrigens aus, ob es entdeckt wird? Ich tue es trotzdem. Das ist immer noch besser als unser jetziges Leben. Ich hasse dich, weil du mich aus all diesem nicht retten kannst.

Kallocain mischt die Welt, die eines totalitären, alle überwachenden Staates, mit den Fortschritten der Menschheitskontrolle qua Pyschopharmaka und der bedrückenden Bedrohung von außen durch feindliche Mächte. Da der Staat aber gar nicht wirklich in Erscheinung tritt, wie alles in diesem Buch ein Schattendasein fristet, und nur die Eifersuchts-Paranoia Leo Kalls gegenüber seines Chefs inszeniert wird, zerfällt das Projekt in unzusammenhängende Bereiche, die zudem die Droge noch völlig überflüssig werden lassen.

Die Sterne funkelten noch ebenso klar, und ich erinnerte mich dar¬an¬, daß ihr pulsierender Lichtschein eine optische Täuschung war. Aber das bedeutete nichts. Was ich sah und hörte, konnten Täuschungen sein. Ihr Bild war doch nur aus meiner eigenen Vorstellungswelt geformt worden, einer inneren Welt, in der ich gewohnt war, mich selbst als eine trockene, verschrumpfte Schale zu sehen.

Die Wahrheit bedeutet in einer Welt der Lügen gar nichts, und das Wahrheitsserum bewirkt so auch nicht das, was es bewirken soll. Es bringt sogar nur selbstverständliche Dinge zum Vorschein. Kallocain liest sich eher wie ein Veto gegen die verwaltete Welt, gegen Bürokratie und Polizeistaatlichkeit und besitzt große Ähnlichkeiten zu Franz Kafkas Das Schloß und führt ähnlich wirr die Figuren durch die Labyrinthe eines Gemeinwesens, das dem Ich-Erzähler ein Buch mit sieben Siegeln bleibt. Unwissenheit und Unfähigkeit überzeugen jedoch höchstens in überbordenden, intensiven Rahmenbedingungen, die es hier nicht gibt. Der beschriebene Staat ist zahnlos wie die Drogen witzlos, leider, und der hakelige Stil wirkt wenig ausgearbeitet und mag mit den bedrückenden Zuständen des Entstehens des Roman zu tun gehabt haben. Als Zeugnis real-existierender Angst durchaus überzeugend, aber nicht als Erzählung.


---------------------------------
---------------------------------
Details – ab hier Spoilergefahr (zur Erinnerung für mich):
---------------------------------
---------------------------------

Inhalt:
●Hauptfigur(en): Leo Kall, schreibt als 60jähriger seine Lebenserinnerung ab dem Alter von 40, hat eine Ehefrau, Linda, und drei Kinder, einen ältesten Sohn Ossu, Laila und Maryl. Er arbeitet als Chemiker in der Chemiestadt Nr. 4.
●Zusammenfassung/Inhaltsangabe:
1) Der Ich-Erzähler, Leo Kall (LK), strebt nach sozialen Aufstieg, nach Karriere, danach, sich in den Hierarchien durchzusetzen. Er hat eine neue Droge entwickelt und erhält einen Kontrollchef, der ihm Versuche am Menschen durchzuführen erlaubt. LK ist aufgeregt, berichtet seiner Frau davon, hat aber Angst, dass es sich bei dem Kontrollchef um den ehemaligen Geliebten seiner Frau, Edo Rissen (ER), handelt. Zudem erhält er einen Brief vom 7. Büro des Propagandaministeriums [Grund wird im zweiten Kapitel gegeben].
2) Zwei Monate vor dem Einsetzen des Plots hat LK als Polizeisekretär das Abschiedsfest abkommandierter Mädchen bewacht, auf der er eine missverständliche Rede abgehalten, in der er behauptet, Trauer würde auf ein größeres Opfer hinweisen als Freude, und eine trauernde Mutter sei stolzer auf den Staat als eine glückliche, wenn die Tochter in einen anderen Bezirk abkommandiert wird. Das Propagandaministerium lehnt die Rede ab und befiehlt eine Klarstellung.
3) Linda redet LK zu, will ihn aber vor einer allzu großen Unterwerfungsgeste behüten. Eine Art Begehren flammt zwischen ihn auf, aber die Spionagekameras in der Wohnung lassen dieses rasch verebben.
4) Der Kontrollchef erweist sich tatsächlich als ER. Die Versuchsreihe beginnt mit Nr. 135, der sich unter Drogeneinfluss über den freiwilligen Opferdienst beklagt. ER nicht sicher, ob Lügen nicht auch dem Staat zugutekommen. ER unterstellt LK ein ungewöhnliches gutes Gewissen zu besitzen, obwohl seiner Erfahrung nach keiner über 40 ein reines Gewissen hat. Der Satz hängt LK nach. Die nächste Versuchsreihe mit Ehepaaren, die sich unter Drogeneinfluss verraten sollen, geht schief, da die Ehepaare sich auch ohne Drogen verraten. LK schreibt am Abend die Entschuldigungsrede, die er im Radio zu sprechen vor hat.
5) LK beklagt den Zustand der Versuchspersonen, zu leicht einzuschüchtern, sodass fast keine Droge notwendig erscheint. Eine Ehefrau fühlt sich durch die Preisgabe des (vorgetäuschten) Geheimnisses ihrem Mann wieder stärker verbunden. Der Polizeichef Karrek (K) tritt hinzu. Er kann gerade davon abgebracht werden, die Ehefrau gefangen zu nehmen.
6) Eine Kadidja Kappori will LK besuchen. LK setzt sich dafür ein, dass sich Kadidjas Ehemann Togo Bahara nicht von ihr scheiden lässt, indem er ihn bedroht, ihn als asoziales Element zu entlarven.
7) Ein weiterer Proband erzählt unter Drogen von „ihre Sache“, einer Sekte der Toren. K wittert eine Verschwörung. Die Sekte trifft sich, redet, schweigt miteinander. Ein Ritual besteht darin, ein Messer mitzubringen, das Messer einem fremden zu geben, und neben dem Fremden, der das Messer gezückt hält, einzuschlafen (als Vertrauensbeweis). Es gibt einen Märtyrer namens Reor, der sich aus Gutgläubigkeit umbringen lassen hat.
8) LK und ER werden zum Laboratoriumschef Muili beordert. Sie sollen in die Hauptstadt, um dort die Droge vorzustellen. Sie fliegen in einem fensterlosen Gefährt ab.
9) Audienz beim Polizeipräsidenten Tuareg, der die Forschung im eigenen Hause unterstützt. ER gutmütiger, LK strenger, will den einzelnen als Werkzeug des Staates sehen, redet der totalen Unterdrücken das Wort. K beauftragt LK zum Propagandaministerium zu gehen, um dort die Verabschiedung eines Gesetzes über die Bestrafung von verbrecherischen Gedanken auf den Weg zu bringen, bei einer Lavris, und zwar nebenbei, nicht als direkte Petition.
10) Tuareg überzeugt von der Droge, setzt ihre Herstellung durch. LK geht zu Kalipso Lavris. Sie untersucht seinen Fall, schickt ihn weg. LK übergibt eine Liste mit Befürwortern einem Mann, der ihn auf eine Versammlung schmuggelt, im Filmstudiopalast, meint aber, er sei ein wenig zu spät auf den Zug aufgesprungen.
11) Trotz Zweifels findet er sich im Filmstudiopalast ein. Rede von Djin Kakumita über Filme und deren geistigen Effekt, wie gute Filme motivieren, wie Menschen für den Staat besser eingespannt werden. LK überkommen langsam Zweifel an der vollständigen Funktionalisierung, denkt an den heroischen Moment von Nr. 135, während Kakumita gegen Heroismus spricht. LK will eine Lanze für den einzelnen brechen, hält sich aber zurück, auf dem Weg aus dem Filmstudiopalast begegnet er einem Offizier von hohem Rang, der die Versammlung auflöst, da es keine Zeit mehr für Filme gibt im Krieg.
12) Aus der Hauptstadt zurück, LKs Differenzen mit ER steigern sich, insbesondere über die Sekte der Toren. ER provoziert LK mit der Wüstenstadt der Sekte. LK soll neidisch auf sie sein, auch mit der Ehe mit L geht’s bergab.
13) K gibt LK bekannt, dass das Gesetz über verbrecherische Gedanken durchgesetzt worden ist. K gibt LK die Möglichkeit, ein Todesurteil zu bewirken. LK hat einen Gefallen bei ihm gut.
14) Paranoia von LK steigt, fragt L, ob sie ein Verhältnis mit ER hat, träumt von der Wüstenstadt, dem freien Leben, überlegt, L die Wahrheitsdroge zu verabreichen, um endlich die Wahrheit über ER von ihr zu erfahren.
15) LK überwältigt L im Schlaf und spritzt ihr die Droge. L gibt zu, dass sie enttäuscht ist vom Leben mit LK, so enttäuscht, dass sie ihn töten will, weil das Glück ausbleibt, dass die Liebe eben nicht die Rettung geboten hat. Von einem Verhältnis mit ER ist nicht die Rede. LK denunziert ihn dennoch wegen des auffälligen Verständnisses gegen über der Sekte der Toren, markiert die Denunziation mit seinem Zeichen, auf dass Karrek das Urteil vollstrecken kann.
16) L spricht mit LK über ihr Leben, über ihre Kinder, wie sie von Kind zu Kind mehr die Singularität des Lebens kennengelernt, sich vom Staat entfernt hat, ein Leben für das Leben.
17) LK überkommt Reue, will ER retten, ruft K an
18) Es gab aber noch andere Denunziationen, und seine war auch zu ausgefeilt. ER bereits verklagt. LK besucht Karrek, dieser überträgt LK die Beauftragung vor Gericht die Befragung von ER vorzunehmen. ER vor Gericht redet über den Panzerwagen der Leere, wird zu Tode verurteilt. L verschwindet.
19) Bei einer Pflichtveranstaltung wird LK übel. Er geht auf die Terrasse. Eigenartigerweise ist der Flugzeuglärm verschwunden. Er verlässt das Gebäude, beschließt zu ERs Ehefrau zu gehen, plötzlich landen Fallschirmtruppen vor ihn. Die Stadt wird besetzt, von feindlichen Armeen. Er schließt sich als Chemiker an und arbeitet die nächsten 20 Jahre als Zwangsarbeiter.
●Kurzfassung: Ein Chemiker erfindet eine Wahrheitsdroge in einem totalitären Staat und kämpft gegen eine zugrunde gehende Ehe an. Er verdächtigt seinen Vorgesetzten, ein Verhältnis mit seiner Frau zu haben, spritzt deshalb seiner Frau die Droge, die sich aber nur über das gemeinsame Leben beklagt. Sie verschwindet daraufhin, der Vorgesetzte wird zu Tode verurteilt und der Staat von einer feindlichen Armeen besiegt und besetzt.
●Charaktere: (rund/flach) flach, unausgearbeitet, eher skizzenhaft.
●Überflüssige Szenen/Charaktere: relativ kurz, aber das Ende erscheint völlig überflüssig, der Krieg, die Fallschirmtruppen, das Verschwinden der Ehefrau.
●Besondere Ereignisse/Szenen: keine
●Diskurs:
… der interessanteste Twist erhält der Roman dadurch, dass das Wahrheitsserum nicht wirklich geprüft werden kann. Die Probe, die sich die Wissenschaftler ausdenken, von einem Ehepaar den einen dazu anzustiften, eine Spionagetätigkeit vorzutäuschen, und den anderen dann mittels der Wahrheitsdroge Kallocain zu zwingen, die Wahrheit über den Partner auszusagen, geht schief. Dieser Test führt sogar dazu, dass sich manche Partner wieder näherkommen, weil ein Vertrauen (beim falschen Geständnis) vorgespielt wurde. Das also, was das Wahrheitsserum herausfindet, stellt sich als banal heraus – sowohl als der IE seiner Frau das Serum spritzt, wie als die Versuchspersonen Geständnisse ablegen, oder von dieser harmlosen Sekte der Toren berichten, die sich treffen und stumme Schauspiele veranstalten (mit einem Messer). Der Twist also besteht darin, dass es gar keine Notwendigkeit für diese Droge gegeben hat. Sie erlaubt eine Gesetzgebung, selbst für unangenehme Gedanken verhaftet zu werden, zu einem Zeitpunkt, als der Staat kurz vor der Eroberung steht.
… alle unter Drogen gesetzte Personen zeigen, dass sie zutiefst, als Wahrheitsmoment, in sich, eine staatsferne Romantik tragen, also den Staat, so wie er sich zeigt, nicht im Detail, so gänzlich ablehnen, kritisieren, zurück zur Natur wollen. Ein Rousseauischer Gedanke. Der Plot besitzt keine Dynamik. Die Droge bringt nichts zu Tage, was nicht alle wissen, dass die Menschen in dem Staat unglücklich sind, unglückliche Ehen führen, entfremdet von der Natur, entfremdet von ihren Kindern. Die Selbsterhaltung als Prinzip führt zur Selbstabschaffung. Die Kontrolle führt zur Erstickung. Der Staat wird von innen geschwächt, bis er einfach von einer fremden Armee überrannt werden kann.
… was geben die Leute unter der Droge zu:
-Nr. 135: „Ich dachte, es wäre schön zu sterben. Man könnte mit den Armen schlagen, man könnte röcheln. Ich habe einmal jemanden im Heim sterben sehen – er schlug mit den Armen um sich und röchelte. Es war schrecklich. Aber es war nicht nur schrecklich. Man kann es nicht nachmachen. Aber seither habe ich immer gedacht, daß es wohl schön wäre, sich ein einziges Mal so benehmen zu können.“
-Ehefrau: „Wir werden einander verstehen und zusammen handeln, wenn wir etwas unternehmen. Ich werde ihm zur Seite stehen. Bei ihm brauche ich mich vor nichts mehr zu fürchten. Er hat ja vor mir auch keine Angst gehabt.“
-einer von der Sekte: „»Wir wollen sein – wir wollen werden – etwas anderes …« »So? Und was wollt ihr werden?« Schweigen. Ein tiefer Seufzer. »Wollt ihr einige bestimmte Posten besetzen?« »Nein, nein. Nicht so.«
-Linda: „Nur etwas weiß ich, und das weiß ich sicher: ich möchte dich töten. Wenn ich nur wüßte, daß es nie entdeckt würde, täte ich es. Was macht es übrigens aus, ob es entdeckt wird? Ich tue es trotzdem. Das ist immer noch besser als unser jetziges Leben. Ich hasse dich, weil du mich aus all diesem nicht retten kannst.“
-Edo Rissen: „Ich bin ein Wesen, dem sie das Leben genommen haben … Und trotzdem, gerade jetzt weiß ich, daß dies nicht wahr ist. Das ist natürlich das Kallocain. Es macht mich so unvernünftig hoffnungsvoll, alles wird leicht und klar und ruhig.“
… also macht die Droge sie hoffnungsvoll, sie freuen sich, sie atmen aus, sie wollen sich befreien. Die Droge wirkt nicht wie eine Waffe. So wird sie nicht beschrieben. Es kommt zu Verurteilungen, aber im Hintergrund, und wahrscheinlich ohnehin aus konstruierten Gründen. Der ganze Plot fällt in sich zusammen. Die Eifersucht von Leo Kall fungiert als Symbol für die Paranoia des Staates gegenüber seinen Bürgern – beide haben es mit unglücklichen Gegenübern zu tun, die aber keine Gefahr ausstrahlen, und so wird ihr Leben zur Beute eines anderen. Schlecht gestrickt, unausgegoren.
--> 1 Stern


Form:
●Eindruck: fürchterlicher Schreibstil, unerträglich holprig, hakelig, gestockelt, erinnert mich an Kafka, seltsame Präposition, ins Leere laufende Adversative, völlig unzusammenhängende Sätze und Aussagen, ins Nichts laufende Metaphern, sehr karg, sehr rudimentär
●Fiktionalitätsgrad: (diskursiv/Werk?) kaum, die Sprache bricht unter ihrem eigenen Bedeutungsanspruch in sich zusammen
●Auffälligkeiten: hastig geschrieben
●Innovation: keine
--> 1 Stern


Erzählstimme:
●Eindruck: von Leo Kall, als Ich-Erzähler, in Retrospektive, insgesamt konsquent.
●Erzählinstanz (reflektiert, situiert, perspektiviert?): ja, alles drei
●Erzählverhalten, -stil, -weise: nüchtern, rationalistisch, gar nicht poetisch
●Einschätzung: langweilig, aber zweckgemäß, dennoch zeigt sich die Anlage als narrativ überzeugend, an der Erzählstimme hat es nicht gelesen
--> 4 Sterne


Komposition:
●Eindruck: schlimm, die Setzung der Eifersucht am Anfang darf sein, auch grundlos, dass aber Linda einfach verschwindet, der Staat plötzlich überfallen wird, und Leo als Strafgefangener endet, überzeugt gar nicht. Weshalb schreibt er das überhaupt auf? Nichts wird beendet. Nichts plausibilisiert. Völlig unausgewogen, viel zu kurz, viel zu uferlos allegorisch.
●Signal/Noise-Ratio: so gut wie kein Noise, Erzählskelett
●Operative Geschlossenheit: nein, es gibt keine Logik, außer der, dass der Mensch im Kern gut ist und das Gute will, und keine Maschine darstellt.
●Rahmenstabilisierende Details: nein, der Flugzeuglärm höchstens
●Eindruck (szenisch/deskriptiv/Tempiwechsel): nein
●Extradiegetische Abschnitte: nein
●Lose Versatzstücke: nein
●Reliefbildung: kaum, ein wenig durch die Ortsveränderung
●Einschätzung: Inhalt und Erzählstimme und Form finden nicht zusammen. Das Buch wirkt beliebig und unabgeschlossen. Insbesondere das krasse Ende mit Krieg, die zwanzig darauffolgende Jahre mit der „Droge“ als große Erfindung. Nichts passiert. Gar nichts.
--> 1 Stern


Leseerlebnis:
●Zusammenfassung: enttäuschend, mager, keine Atmosphäre, nicht durchkonstruiert. Konnte mich nirgendwo auch nur ansatzweise überzeugen.
●eigenständig? (Inhalt: ja/nein) na ja … ziemlich trocken
●glaubwürdig? (Erzählinstanz: ja/nein) atmosphärisch vielleicht ansatzweise, aber nicht von den Charakteren
●schön? (Sprache/Form: ja/nein) nein, auf keinen Fall
●stimmig?(Komposition: ja/nein) nicht im Ansatz, keine geschlossene Form
●ein zweites Mal lesen? Bestimmt nicht
--> 1 Stern

--------

[Dagio_maya · Rating 4 out of 5]

” Gli strati di me stesso che dovevano arrivare ad esprimersi
non avevano mai formulato parole.”



“Kallocaina” è l’ultimo romanzo dell’autrice svedese Karin Boyle.
Scritto e pubblicato nel 1940 riflette perfettamente la nera cappa che stava avvolgendo l’Europa e il mondo intero.

Si tratta di una distopia che catapulta il lettore in una società soffocante e soffocata da limiti e divieti.

Impossibile parlare per strada per il rombo continuo degli aerei militari.
Impossibile parlare sinceramente all’interno di un edificio per i microfoni (ancora non si parla di telecamere) della polizia.
Impossibile parlare nella propria casa per la presenza di una collaboratrice domestica mandata dallo Stato e sua referente.
Impossibile parlare in ascensore perché notoriamente luogo di cospirazione.
Impossibile recarsi in un posto a proprio piacimento, ognuno deve seguire un programma con precisi orari.

Città come non-luoghi, spazi che hanno un senso prettamente merceologico come ogni uomo ed ogni donna d’altronde che hanno valore unicamente in relazione alla propria funzione nell’apparato statale.



Cittadini come isole infelici spinte a diffidare l’uno dell’altro in un vortice di accuse e delazioni reciproche.

” Se ci fosse qualsiasi ragionevole motivo per avere reciproca fiducia fra gli uomini, lo Stato non sarebbe mai sorto. La ragione sacra e necessaria dell’esistenza dello Stato è la nostra mutua, legittima sfiducia l’uno nell’altro.”


Relazioni impedite da un’educazione condizionante che insegna il sacrificio: immolare sé stessi perché l’unico organismo importante sopravviva, lo Stato.
Come i soldati che offrono il proprio corpo e s’inorgogliscono se mutilati di essere martiri per il bene supremo, così i cittadini devono sentirsi rincuorati che la loro mutilazione interiore sia a favore di una giusta e buona causa.

Ma non basta.

Leo Kall, scienziato della città Chimica n°4, è l’inventore di un siero della verità.

Se iniettato infatti toglie ogni maschera:


” D’ora in poi nessun criminale potrà negare la verità. Neanche i nostri pensieri più intimi ci appartengono più, come a torto abbiamo creduto per molto tempo.
— A torto?
— Certo, a torto. Da pensieri e sentimenti nascono parole e azioni.
Come possono, dunque, pensieri e sentimenti essere una questione privata?”


In una società che annienta ogni aspirazione individuale è l’ambizione che spinge Kall a proporre questa sostanza che proprio in virtù di un riconoscimento battezzerà utilizzando il suo cognome: la Kallocaina.
In una società così abietta l’individualità è morta.

Il Servizio di Sacrificio Volontario è tra le massime manipolazioni dove chi si offre alla sperimentazione è convinto di essere un eroe dello Stato Mondiale.

La Kallocaina, inserita in questo contesto, è l’inevitabile condanna a morte dell’Io


”Essere umano! dissi. Che mistica ha costruito la gente intorno a questa parola! Come se essere un essere umano fosse di per sé degno di rispetto! Essere umano! Non è che un concetto biologico. E se è qualcosa di diverso, meglio sbarazzarsene il più presto possibile.”

Terribilmente soffocante..

[merixien · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Düşünce ve duygular, söz ve eyleme sebep olur. Öyleyse bu düşünce ve duygular nasıl bir kişiye mahsus olabilir? Bütün silahdaşlar Düzen’e ait değiller mi?”


Yazıldığı dönem dikkate alınarak değerlendirildiğinde çok güzel bir kitap. İnsanın izole bir hayata mahkum edildiğinde önlerine konulan, en saçma ve delilik seviyesindeki kuralları/şartları normalleştirip doğru kabul etmesini çok güzel anlatıyor. Aynı şekilde yazarın -kitabın başlangıcında- karakterin ağzından “kendini ifade etme zorunluluğu hissedip ne olursa olsun yazmalı anlatmalıyım” demesi ve kitabı tamamladıktan bir süre sonra da intihar etmesi savaşın sonunda kitabında anlattıklarının gerçek olabilme ihtimalini çok düşündüğünü hissettiriyor insana. Okurken yazım yılının 1940 olduğunu atlamadan okuyun.

“Kırk yaşının üzerindeki hiçbir silahdaşın vicdanı temiz olamazdı."

[Kamakana · Rating 5 out of 5]

270315: bleak, believable, banal, beautiful- best dystopia of which i had never heard, written by a woman poet. some reviews characterize Kallocain (1940) as kind of a Swedish 1984(1948) or Brave New World (1932), but i suggest the lineage more fruitfully explored is We by Zamyatin (1921). this is a lyrical, poetic, rather mundane world without either the melodramatic oppression, the great names, the obvious powers of orwell's book- ministry of truth, thought police etc.- or the conspiracy of intellectual powers, seductive technology, behaviourism of BNW, this world, this worldstate, seems more plausible, more human, more philosophical. partly because there is no big reveal, no real, identifiable, irresistible powers- only surveillance, informing, group psychology, personal ambitions and emotions radically redirected to the worldstate. when the narrator is less than heroic, when his truth is often revealed accidentally, rather than confessed, and the truth of love is the final private sense of humanity... when this goes under to the power of kallocain truth serum... are we human anymore...?

300619: decided to sum up several dystopian works read in this review, add others later...

200519: 1984. ok so it is time to read this again. i will find it in french. just read web article on guardian about continuing relevance/changed relevance of book in our world. i remember popular version of ‘real’ 1984 think i saw movie 1984 that year... 2017 is impossible to imagine from ‘real’ 1984 as much as ‘real’ 1948(9) when book 1984 was written/published...

i mention ‘brave new world’ in review but that does not have the same hold on my memories. too much (your) tech, science, culture is bad, (our) knowledge special, stupid people (everyone else) need leaders (us), we are smart (thus worthwhile) we have culture (yours is shit) etc. and if you are woman you are slut, stupid, simple, and should be nowhere near thought of. give her o (toys! clothes! fun! etc) she is happy. and then plot=lost boy discovers he is actually prince! (mistaken for lesser when he is real smart...), savagery ok that is how to be real! and read shakespeare dammit all else ever written anywhere by anyone else is just not worthwhile... ok just my early impression...

‘animal farm’ is parable. once you know horse=this, pig=this etc there is only argument about how accurate are the impressions...

‘we’ is beautiful. that is one problem, probably why i love it, but also too abstract for most readers. and then translated as ‘well-doer’ or ‘benefactor’ well which is it? so i read this later at u. more cynical about politics/art vs politics but still really loved gatsby (!) bc he seemed to have more personal meaning. but this somewhat obscure, difficult, poetic book written in 20s? by somebody in what some other language no red-blooded etc (not in cold war anyway) would read! no it is not global (read western?) phenom...

‘handmaid’s tale’ bothers me bc i am young man think young man thought think women etc. possible that there would be (in 1984!) such retrogressive men who would what do this (imprison, rape, kill etc) to women? no. too much feminist paranoia. impossible not now (1984) not in near future not in 2017 alabama where men love women so much they will never let little woman kill little clump of tissue (fetus is baby!) unless said clump is going to kill her! so... i am wrong. but see ther’s this miniseries that only those elitist intelligent leftists watch, wins awards, makes money! and, and then there’s this blonde captain someone and just last year wonder someone and, and alabama, well hey there’s this movie in it...! so maybe handmaid’s will become global phenom...

there are too many other bad places (dys?) i have read since 1984 but yet to find equal... so it is somewhere i like to visit, at least in writing, but no i do not want to live there... i have aa-dystopia bookshelf full of them, not many ya, but this is the book i will always remember...

1984: ...??? childhood: another favorite i have neglected to place, i read this first when i was 12/13/14 or something, an old hardback at home, about the same time as great gatsby. i have read this at least 3 times. so an interesting intro to literature of ideas, something particularly bleak. the vision of switching enemies, getting your hate on, of power for sake of power. the essay on new english made me cognizant of the power of words to distort or even create realities. so many ideographic terms, from thought police to big brother, insures this will never become dated even now after 1984. hard to believe it has given a name to so-called reality tv. i have to be aware of the power of media only just becoming apparent at the time written, brave new world is the one to read for that...

.??? 1980s?: i read ‘brave new world’ much later than Orwell’s 1984 (adolescent first ‘adult’ book), and what bothered me then still bothers me, on this second or third reading. this is that the book suggests a value conflict between science and art, in politics. and gendered relationships with the few women being represented as empty-headed, smiling, greedy, sensual addicts rather than thoughtful, mature, sensible, as men, aargh... not very advanced conceptually there, even if it is of its time. very good elaboration of our misuse of technology in empty amusement, but the idea we need suffering to create art of any consequence (maybe great art yes, more certainly miserable lives), the idea we can condition humans to fit determined roles (existentialist in me rebels at this line of thought, this suggestion humans are entirely determined), that of course we will recognize natural leaders in those who have any sense of art of Shakespeare (culturally blinkered eurocentrism), all seem curiously naive and quaint after the horrors of mechanical warfare, the horrors of genocide...

[Linda · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is set in a future, dystopian, totalitarian world state, after a World War. The government surveillance, with eyes and ears, reaches everywhere. Even the maids are bound to report every week about the family at which they work. The main protagonist, Leo Kall, is a dutiful citizen, accepting the rules of the society. He even invents a truth serum, Kallocain, to increase the government's control over the people, making the world state the owner of not only the peoples' identities, but also their souls, because the truth serum reveals their inner, most intimate emotions.

Karin Boye wrote Kallocain during the second World War, just months before committing suicide. The oppression and government abuse are choking and frightening, as well as believable. Since there was a fear among the Swedish people of a German invasion, the theme of the book has been connected to the Third Reich. But, having been a socialist, Boye, after visiting the Soviet union, had began to crumble in her political conviction, especially when it came to the restricted individual freedom of the people. As much as the world state resembles a nazi society, it also resembles a communist era. The people live in small apartments, all identical, and they call each other "fellow soldier", not so unlike the Soviet's ”kamrat” - comrade. There are no economic class divisions, and there is a kind of human equality, but only in the indiscriminating way that noone has a value. A human life is worth nothing more than being a cog in the machine. Individualism is strictly forbidden and seen as a crime and threat to the nation, as the biggest purpose is to serve the world state. Kall is a scientist and contributes to the state through his Kallocain experiments on people from a voluntary service where they sacrificing themselves for ”the greater good”, a unit one can enter but never leave.

Since individualism is forbidden and private emotions are viewed as selfish, dangerous thoughts, the society is built upon mistrust and suspicion - a foundation necessary for the existence of the world state. For every private gathering, witnesses are needed to be able to prove one's innocence if faced with an accusation. There is no term as ”innocent until proven guilty”.

There is a biblical theme in the book. The mysterious myth about the hero Reor that didn't care about witnesses and protection, but simply trusted his fellow citizens, and thereby reached a freedom of mind, something he had to pay for. Parallels can be drawn to Jesus, and his role of sacrifice. The people believing in this myth and trustful way of behavior, were seen as strange and dangerous. Like a religion, there were no certificate to be a member, no head of the organization, not even an organization. Not being able to control such a people, the ruthless state had to defend itself.

When no one can be trusted, the only way to feel safe is power, but power is only an illusion, since it doesn't take away the small voice inside one's soul. Kall received the kind of power he thought he needed, through his invention. It's interesting how far a person is prepared to go to defend his structured, safety-imagined every-day life. The clear-eyed, openminded character Rissen served as Kall's suppressed conscience, which explains Kall's split feelings towards him, mostly fear and loathing due to the dangerous risk of rebellious thoughts in his mind, which could jeopardize his safety, especially with Kallocain in production.

Kallocain is a unique Swedish novel, about ten years ahead of George Orwell's "1984" and Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451". More than seventy years old, it's still of importance, considering the present discussions of the FRA-surveillance in Sweden, and even on an international scale, considering Wikileaks and the information revealed by Julian Assange. Furthermore, it shows how easy a man, and eventually a whole society, can be controlled by fear and mistrust. It also awakes the important prospect that a society consists of people, like an organism consists of cells. Every cell is needed, and every man can make a difference. He has to decide for himself who he wants to be, and dare to fight for it.

[Verdes Anos · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't usually write reviews but this book just made me go for it.
It is impressive to realize how a book written in 1940 can bring to light some of the most complex ethical discussions, some of those still remaining pretty present nowadays. Also relevant to note that some of the controversial issues are related to the scientific progression, almost serving as a real prediction for the worldwide reflections that came up after the first attacks using nuclear weapons (1945)
The book also served as an inspiration for some of the best known distopies but, unfortunately, did not even get half of the status and public attention
If I had a Top 10 Most Underrated Books list, this would be part of the header

[Sarah Bookmarked · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kallocain ist eine klassische Dystopie und braucht den Vergleich mit „1984“ und „Schöne neue Welt“ nicht scheuen. Die Geschichte spielt in einem totalitären, militärisch organisierten Überwachungsstaat, der seine Bürger systematisch unterdrückt. Es gibt Kameras und Mikrofone in jeder Wohnung, das Sozialleben wird durch Arbeit, Polizei- und Militärdienst auf ein Minimum reduziert und auch untereinander herrscht großes Misstrauen. Jeder sieht in jedem einen potentiellen Verräter und Staatsfeind. Da trifft es sich gut, dass der Protagonist und Chemiker Leo Kall gerade an einem Wahrheitsserum arbeitet, das die Zunge lockert und demnach jedem Menschen auch noch die geheimsten Gedanken und Gefühle entlockt. Der Weltstaat hat natürlich großes Interesse an diesem Mittel und auch Leo Kall sieht nur den Nutzen für die Ordnung, bis er Kallocain an den ersten Probanden testet…

Mein Eindruck:
Ich bin ein großer Fan klassischer Dystopien und daher froh, dass ich mit Kallocain einen weiteren Titel aus diesem Genre entdecken durfte. Außerdem ist dieser Vertreter von einer Frau geschrieben und ich hoffe, dass er nicht deshalb weniger bekannt ist. Aufbau und Verlauf der Geschichte entsprechen dem klassischen Schema.

Die Autorin zeigt die negativen Veränderungen der Gesellschaft und des Zwischenmenschlichen durch totale Überwachung und ständiges Misstrauen. Die Menschen sind kalt, vorsichtig und distanziert, selbst zwischen Eltern und Kind kann durch räumliche und zeitliche Trennung keine tiefe Beziehung aufgebaut werden, denn letztlich würde ein jeder seinen Nachbarn, Partner oder Verwandten anschwärzen, wenn sich der Verdacht auf Verrat verhärtet. Diese beklemmende Atmosphäre verdichtet sich im Verlauf der Geschichte, denn es gibt keinen Ausweg aus dem System, wenn man niemandem trauen kann.

Die Staatstreue findet ihren traurigen Höhepunkt in der Institution des freiwilligen Opferdienstes aus dessen Personenkreis Leo Kall seine ersten Probanden erhält. Diese Gesellschaft mit all ihren geheimen Wünschen und Gedanken sorgte für einige gruselige und tieftraurige Szenen, die mir in ihrer Kritik sehr gut gefielen. Die wohlformulierte Sprache von Karin Boye gefiel mir dabei sehr.

Fazit:
Eine klassische Dystopie, die in ihrer Botschaft nichts an Aktualität verloren hat und sehr deutlich zeigt wie eine Gesellschaft aussieht in der es weder Mitgefühl noch Geborgenheit gibt. Es steht nun völlig zurecht neben „1984“, „Schöne neue Welt“ und „Fahrenheit 451“ in meinem Regal.

Meine Videorezension:
https://youtu.be/HyfUT7b-tGk

[Manny · Rating 4 out of 5]

Damn, it's hard to review Kallocain. Karin Boye published it in 1940; a few months later, she killed herself. The book is one of the bleakest, most heartrending things I have ever read. It anticipates 1984, which wouldn't be written for another decade, and goes further. Orwell's book ends with Winston Smith's realisation that he loves Big Brother. Leo Kall (kall is "cold" in Swedish) the narrator of Boye's novel, takes it for granted that everyone must love Big Brother except some human scum who should be identified and eliminated as quickly as possible. He's come up with an invention that he's sure is going to help. Kallocain is a truth serum that's one hundred percent effective. You're given a dose, and immediately you lose all your inhibitions and say what you're really thinking. Kall figures it will be the perfect way to unmask those spies and traitors who have so far managed to hide.

Boye is a poet with the poet's acute sense for the beauty of language, but here she goes to great lengths to hide that beauty and only let it shine through rarely and indirectly. Everything in Kall's world is ugly. His society is ugly, his life is ugly, the stiff, formal words he uses to tell his story are almost always ugly. Occasionally something happens which shows him the possibility of another existence, but throughout most of the novel he does his best to ignore these annoying distractions and focus on what's truly important: perpetuating the World State and its ability to control its citizens. Of course, the system is insane: as soon as Kall's invention starts being used on a large scale, it becomes clear that almost everyone is harbouring treasonous thoughts. Logically, Kallocain is a reductio ad absurdum of the whole enterprise, but people are not logical. It doesn't make much difference that everyone knows their society is built on a lie.

Probably not a good idea to think too much about this book.

[Pınar · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5/5

[Nancy Oakes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leo Kall wakes up one morning to read the newspaper and the headlines say "Thoughts Can be Judged." Well, Leo already knows this, having invented a drug which he named after himself: Kallocain. Early in his career as a scientist for the Worldstate, a totalitarian regime, Kall realized that when people become intoxicated they tend to spill their guts to total strangers. Working from that idea, he develops Kallocain, and after a few subjects from the Voluntary Sacrificial Service are injected with the drug and questioned as to their loyalty or knowledge of treasonous plots, Kall realizes this drug could be a great weapon in securing the state. Anyone with thoughts judged to be against the state could be put into prison or put to death, eliminate any possible threats. Kall saw himself as climbing a staircase of achievement, and this was how he was planning to get to the next level.

However, what he doesn't understand until it's too late is that underneath everyone's allegiance to the Worldstate and their willingness to do their duties to support the state without question, no matter what, that there are many people who dream of something different.

Kallocain is a wonderful book, although at times it is really difficult to slog through probably because of its translation from Swedish. Written in 1940, prior to Orwell's 1984, it is a bleak vision of man's future, in which a person's inner thoughts may be all that he or she has left to identify them as an individual.

I recommend this one to anyone interested in this topic. It's not always an easy read, but well worth it in the end.

[Musab · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Bildiğim tek şey, hastalıklı ebeveynlerin ve hastalıklı öğretmenlerin daha da hastalıklı çocuklar yetiştirdiği; öyle ki hastalıklı olmak bir norm, sağlıklı olmaksa korkulacak bir şey haline gelmiş. Yalnız varlıklardan daha da yalnızları doğuyor, korkanlardansa daha da korkakları..."

distopya okumayı sevenlerin kaçırmaması gereken bir kitap.

[sepagraf]

У мене занадто багато думок щодо цього роману, але якщо вам тяжко читати довгі дописи, то от мій короткий висновок : непоганий варіант для книжкового клубу.

А тепер трохи в подробицях.

💉 Імхо, називати Каллокаїн антиутопією = закривати очі на деякі ознаки жанру. Якщо спростити до одного речення, то антиутопію визначає конфлікт - це завжди людина проти тоталітарної системи. Також в будь-якій антиутопії важливою складовою є описи функціонування політичного устрою. Ні першого ні другого в Каллокаїні немає.

🧪 В якийсь момент мені здалось, що Боє писала Каллокаїн з метою (можливо, неусвідомленою) викласти на папері два монологи Лінди, дружини оповідача: перший - про чоловіка й одруження і другий - про дітей і материнство.

💊 Особисто мені сподобалось, що розвиток сюжету доволі непередбачуваний. Починаєш читати про вченого, який розробляє еліксир правди, і у якого вже є рекорд неблагонадійних вчинків, ну і закрадаються думки про те, куди це все приведе. Ні, не приведе. Боє не ігнорує цей факт і прямо прописує страх оповідача, що ці "ліки" можуть бути застосовані проти нього самого, але такої банальщини читач не побачить.

✉️ Для мене це все ж особиста історія. Про сім'ю, про роботу, про заздрість, про страх, про довіру. Так, ця історія розгортається на тлі тоталітарної держави, але якщо помістити її на тло інакше, нічого не зміниться, це все ще буде романом з внутрішнім конфліктом.

🎭 Я згадувала, що Каллокаїн можна обговорити на спільночиті, і тут я в основному мала на увазі оцей дистопійний відголосок: як багато людей живе і працює в репресивних умовах, але притому піддає сумніву ідеологію і правильність усього, що відбувається. Це не спойлер - буквально на перших сторінках за кількістю аплодисментів у врочистій залі можемо почати робити такі висновки.

Більше сподобалось, ніж ні.

[Віталій (Книжкаріум) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Отак живеш живеш до тридцяти років і впевнений, що на світі було лише дві потужні антиутопії: "1984" Орвелла та "О дивний новий світ" Гакслі, а потім трапляється "Ми" Замятіна, а потім і "Каллокаїн" Боє. Вік живи, вік учись і все рівно дурнем помреш))

"Каллокаїн" мені дуже сподобалась в першу чергу м'якою, але концентрованою, манерою оповідання. Просто приємно було читати історію і слідкувати за повільним розгортанням сюжету. Певно звертаю на це увагу, бо від дистопії чекаєш виразної похмурості, тиснучої безнадії, якихось різких рухів, проте тут все доволі м'яко подано і це несподівано приємно потішило. Сподобалось також як Боє прописує еволюцію свідомості ГГ і його стосунки з іншими - якось ніби й не дуже детально, але й не картонно, не викликало спротиву.

То ж, як на мене, це доволі якісна дистопія, яку легко й цікаво читати, і яка нмд цілком заслуговує бути на одному п'ядесталі з метрами цього жанру.

[Elish · Rating 3 out of 5]

دنيايي را تصور كنيد( البته براي شما سخت نخواهد بود)كه در ان شما اختيار هيچ چيزي در زندگيتان را نداريد،كودكي،تربيت،نوجواني،اموزش،سبك زندگي،شغل،علايق،عشق،گفتگو،ازدواج و حتي مرگ،شما صرفا يك وسيله هستين براي بقا و پيشبرد"كشور جهاني"،اخرين پناه و اخرين اختيار شما ذهنتان هست،روياها و احساساتتان كه ان را در زير نقابي از بي تفاوتي پنهان مي كنيد
خوب بايد بهتون بگم كه زياد دلخوش نباشيد قراره كاملا بي پناه و عريان شويد و اين داستان كالوكائين هست
(چقدر خوب بود اگر موقع خواندن اين رمان هيچ دركي از پادآرمان شهر توصيفي نويسنده نداشتم،كاش آزادي براي من سبك زندگي من بود نه رويايي دور و عجيب...)

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kallocain is a dystopia of the classic kind, written during the Second World War by a Swedish poet in the vein of We, 1984, and Brave New World. I wonder whether it isn't frequently cited alongside those three because it was written by a woman in a language other than English? It explores the same themes cleverly, while including significantly original elements. The story is told in the first person by a chemist named Leo Kall, working for an oppressive military World Government regime. He invents a genuine truth serum and names it kallocain after himself. The plot follows him testing it on volunteers (of a sort) and the impacts of this, on both wider society and him personally.

Leo is striking psychological portrait of indoctrination by totalitarianism. He does not think through the consequences of introducing a truth serum into an incredibly controlling police state, unlike certain others around him. The scenes in which people are dosed with kallocain and say whatever is on their mind are the most arresting in the book. Notably when Kall forcibly doses his wife, who says she wants to kill him. The reader honestly cannot blame her. The narrative asks what resistance is possible under the constant surveillance of a regime that enforces constant social distrust. It's clear that the use of kallocain by the police further sharply constrains the space for independent thought, let alone action.

The novel's ending loops back to the beginning, as the narrative is structured as Kall's written personal recollection. I think this probably packed more punch at the time of initial publication. In the twenty-first century, the idea that totalitarian regimes are much the same regardless of nation or claimed political alignment is much easier to accept than I imagine it was in 1940. At the novel's end, a rival regime invades the city where Kall lives and forces him to work for them instead. He comments that this is very similar to his life under the World Government and in some ways he feels freer. In his old life he had a difficult relationship with his wife and was ambitious at work. He mentions no ideological loyalty to his previous masters.

Kall's ambivalence about freedom is an interesting theme. He is a both a compelling and frustrating character due to being an inveterate collaborator, happy to comply in advance without being forced. That's a type whose perspective is undoubtedly chilling to read, especially when the world-building demonstrates exactly why he is like this. I found it notable that at no point does Kall apologise for, or even really consider the moral implications of, inventing a drug with such terrible applications. Like the other classic early 20th century dystopias, Kallocain strikes a distinctly bleak note. Boye died the year after it was published, in 'circumstances that are still unclear', at the age of only 41. At the time of her death, the prospects were undoubtedly grim for those living in Western Europe. Ostensibly neutral Sweden was surrounded by Nazi-occupied or allied nations. Boye's novel is a true dystopia as it asks, 'what if things continue like this?' Kallocain depicts a world ravaged by endless war where individuals are trained from early childhood to be mindless soldiers. Given my ongoing interest in dystopian fiction, I'm surprised to have only discovered it in 2025. Thank you goodreads friends for bringing it to my attention.

[〽️onicae · Rating 4 out of 5]

Il siero distopico

Mi ha sempre emozionata sapere che il pensiero è il nostro vero spazio di libertà, inaccessibile e impermeabile, salvo per quanto decidiamo di veicolare oltre le pareti del corpo.
Pensieri e sentimenti sono il nostro prezioso scrigno segreto in cui ci rifugiamo e da cui attingiamo come da un pozzo splendente che si rigenera e muta di continuo.

E' quindi sconvolgente l'invenzione dello scienziato Leo Kall che, nel mondo distopico immaginato da Karin Boye nel 1940, sperimenterà la Kallocaina, il siero della verità, e otterrà l'autorizzazione a testarlo su "materiale umano". E' lo stesso Leo Kall a raccontarcelo:

<<Come possono, dunque, pensieri e sentimenti essere una questione privata? Non appartiene ogni soldato interamente allo Stato? E a chi dovrebbero appartenere allora pensieri e sentimenti, se non allo Stato?>>.

Non c'è da prendersela con Leo Kall, non è un anti eroe come potrebbe apparire, è più semplicemente un soldato a servizio del regime totalitario, lo Stato Mondiale, evocato dalla Boye.
Nello Stato Mondiale tutti sono disciplinati soldati, persino i bambini, i quali fin dall'età di otto anni vengono allontanati dalla famiglia per essere addestrati nei campi d'infanzia. Tutti quindi, bambini inclusi, vivono di doveri nei confronti di uno Stato di cui non conoscono nemmeno dimensione e confini.

Fatto è che l'invenzione di Leo Kall prenderà il sopravvento. E' quello che succede quando la scienza non si raccorda con l'etica. Dopo i primi esperimenti realizzati sulle cavie umane, alla ricerca di criminali che cospirano contro lo Stato, si innescherà una catena di delazioni anche tra i componenti dello stesso nucleo familiare.

Del resto Leo Kall arriverà a somministrare la Kallocaina per finalità del tutto personali e quindi non tanto per individuare pensieri sovversivi, quanto per cercare conferma al tarlo che credo, quantomeno inconsciamente, abbia dato impulso alla sua ricerca scientifica. Non posso proprio svelare di più.

Quello che posso dire è che Leo Kall e il suo siero diventeranno uno strumento del regime di Polizia, il quale arriverà a promulgare "una legge contro i pensieri e i sentimenti ostili allo Stato". I pensieri potranno quindi essere condannati per decreto-legge.

Leo Kall, cercherà criminali sovversivi ma quello che spesso troverà nelle persone interrogate è un dilagante sentimento di vuoto, di angoscia, di infelicità che non riesce nemmeno a riconoscere.
E infatti il suo messaggio più profondo, Karin Boye lo affiderà alle parole non del protagonista ma di Rissen, il superiore di Leo Kall:

<<Si, la paura. La sorveglianza si è fatta sempre più severa - e questo non ci ha resi più sicuri, come speravamo, ma piuttosto più angosciati. E con la paura cresce anche l'impulso a colpire intorno a noi>>.

Mi risuonano parecchio queste parole.
I romanzi distopici ci allertano, ci scuotono; è questa la loro più profonda funzione.

Vi saluto quindi richiamando il mantra a fondamento della propaganda del Grande Fratello nel più noto romanzo 1984 di George Orwell, pubblicato quasi dieci anni dopo Kallocania:

la guerra è pace - la libertà è schiavitù - l'ignoranza è forza - la guerra è pace - la libertà è schiavitù - l'ignoranza è forza