"Erewhon" is another fictious land populated by a lost race discovered by a blonde-haired European who gives us an exhaustive account of their culture and civilization in a critique of Victorian society. I think the Victorian is the most satirized historical era in all of literature. It seems like it would be such a cozy place to live, doing nothing but smoking from briar pipes by the fire in a library of a lush oriental decor while Christmas carols from consumptive waifs drift from outside the frosted window overlooking a gaslit London street. But in reality, it must have been a terrible place to live, especially if you weren't a white male bachelor living off of a considerable trust.
And I guess many agreed due to the popularity of these satires such as "Vril--The Power of The Coming Race" by Bulwer-Lytton (see my review of that title). "Erewhon," published anonymously in 1872, was no exception, except readers seemed to assume it was a sequel to "The Coming Race," and when they found out that Samuel Butler wrote it, sales allegedly dropped 90%. Still, it didn't do all that bad, and spawned an actual sequel of it's own called "Erewhon Revisited."
But does "Erewhon" hold up to modern audiences? Let's take a trip there and find out, shall we?
The opening of the book was based off Butler's own adventures in New Zealand, and though the narrator doesn't tell us the location of "Erewhon," it is assumed to take place there, sure to stimulate the mind's eye of fans of Peter Jackson's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. The narrator is abandoned by his guide who is afraid of the peoples that are said to inhabit the remote land which they are exploring. Soon after, he comes across giant statues with heads carved into wind instruments that make a low howling across the landscape. The narrator is horrified by this. What a pansy.
But before his imagination gets the better of him, he is hailed by the real denizens of this land, and they turn out to be quite friendly. They take him to their country, which appears to be a utopia, though he soon learns that things are far from perfect in Erewhon.
Novels like this are often a mixed bag for me, though I can't recall any that left me completely cold or angry. In fact, I've enjoyed some very much, and have even praised a few. But the people of Erewhon did make me angry. This has to be an example of a civilization too stupid to ever be real.
For example, they sure do take a liberal stance when it comes to accepting malignant willful acts, but punish people for things that are the result of nature, not volition. If someone steals or sets fire to property, they are treated with sympathy and their behaviors remedied by a kind of physician known as the straightener, who is essentially a kind of psychiatrist who prescribes self-inflicted punishments on the criminal by which to prevent them from having such impulses in the future. Yet when someone is actually sick, say with cancer or an infection, this is treated as the most heinous of crimes and punished by imprisonment or hard labor.
And even more absurdly, they blame newborns for inflicting pain and inconvenience to parents. They consider persons to be "pre-born," coming into the world only when they are willful enough to pester their parents to procreate. At the birth, there is a ritualistic chastisement of the infant for their inconsiderate behavior.
And on and on. Musical banks. Colleges of Unreason. The more the author tried to make the civilization absurd, the more absurd the whole book got. No civilization as closely resembling Western culture as Erewhon could be so isolated so as to be completely ignorant of the laws and cultures of nearby countries. Butler tries to playfully say that not a speck of common sense exists in their culture. My response is that then the author has taken things too far. It would be like me writing an overly long satire about a people who believe that sustaining oneself by eating food is immoral. That's not clever. That's stupid. Similarly, no civilization like Erewhon could exist in the first place, so upside down as it is, because they'd destroy themselves with their weird and random punitive policies and beliefs.
OK, I get this is all make-believe. I've consumed a lot of fantasies featuring ridiculous civilizations with goofy beliefs that are meant for satirical purposes, or to provide insights into an alternative way of seeing the world. But stories do this successfully when there is a modicum of grounding in reality. Take "The Stepford Wives" as an example of a believable and engaging satirical society. Though the ideas as presented in that story may be ludicrous at first, they are based on playing forward actual historical and present-day trends that could actually lead to life imitating art if we do not gain self-awareness and shift our trajectory. Douglas Adams was a master at painting ridiculous civilizations for the sake of comedy, but once again, if one thinks about, say, the absurdities of actual real-life bureaucracy, his comedies become funny by how close to reality than can be.
Perhaps we are just too far removed from Victorian society for the average reader of science fiction to appreciate how a story about people who scold babies for being so rude as to be born is at all satire. Now, if you were to say something to the effect of, "Karen is so self-centered and pampered, she even scolded her own baby for the inconvenience of imposing it's own birth," that's actually funny because it makes a point about a real person. The comment is fictional, meant to be a joke, but it is grounded and serves a purpose to convey something about this Karen. What point is Butler making? That people will believe any nonsense? If you know, let me in on the joke please.
And as is often the case with these fictional travelogues, this novel really isn't a novel, being so heavy on exposition and containing very little plot. I have forgiven this in some books where I had become so enthralled with awe over the strangeness or wonders of the alien civilization. But Samuel Butler's delivery here is so very dry, and I didn't find Erewhon as a place or any of it's inhabitants all that compelling. What's more, he has the narrator fall in love with the 14-year-old daughter of his Erewhonian host, Arowhena. Why he decided to also insert a quasi-love story in the middle of this arid desert of a narrative is beyond me, because we have absolutely no sense of any actual relationship between the two, yet suddenly they want to die for each other. It seemed Butler felt he needed to throw in a bit of Victorian melodrama because even he feared the book was getting to dull.
Not that the book is devoid of ANYTHING of interest. There are a few ideas here that gave me something to chew on. Where the novel really peaked my curiosity was in three chapters dedicated to the Erewhonian Book of Machines. Our narrator is shocked to discover that his pocketwatch is deemed offensive to the natives. And why not? Evidently, being born is offensive to these people! But here the reason turns out to be because all machinery was banned from their civilization centuries ago due to fears that machines would evolve to become sentient and surpass humans as the dominant species via natural selection. Even a potato in a dark cellar has latent potential for complex action, quips The Book of Machines. If left alone, the potato will sprout and seek the light. Is this not a kind of machine consciousness?
But Butler became convinced by his own joke that there is latent consciousness in all matter and that the mechanics of evolution is merely the process by which the universe is waking up. This is some heady stuff, and a very early example of this theme appearing in scientific romances. I believe this is the main reason "Erewhon" is remembered out of myriad of similar utopias and dystopias. It is this section alone that is worth reading. In fact, the level of ingenious thought and artistry found here is so vastly different from the rest of the book that it feels like a separate work shoehorned into an inferior one. So if you are a fan of "Dune" and wondered what the "Butlerian jihad" against machines was all about, here is your source.
Overall, this wasn't the best or the most thought-provoking of the subgenre, but there is some meat on these bones which should still enjoy readership today. I would rank The Book of Machines chapters by themselves at least four stars, if not five. But as a whole, I'm afraid "Erewhon" just didn't work for me.
SCORE: Two singing bankers.