LITR 4632:
Literature of the Future
        

Sample Student Final Exams 2011 Essay 2 

 

Jenn Tullos

30 June 2011

School vs. Church: Uniting Discrepancies between Utopia and Dystopia

            Everything in moderation—this tends to be the general sentiment regarding life. In the days of walking on politically correct eggshells, it is increasingly difficult to truly take a stand for something in which you believe. Despite the fact that we are encouraged to maintain an open mind and entertain a myriad of opinions concerning the same idea, when regarding utopian and dystopian literature, schools and churches remain excessively narrow in their philosophical positions. When looking at the public school English curriculum, the assigned novels are almost exclusively dystopian literature. There is no attempt at balancing the lessons by introducing students to the similarities and differences between utopian and dystopian themes. Instead, students are cheated out of the opportunity of educational equilibrium and shown the singular concept of dystopia so often that Hastings has its own Young Adult dystopian literature section. In slight contrast, the majority of churches solely teach a perfect utopian eternity. Again, there is no balance to the instruction, no admission that Heaven may not actually be the painless, tearless utopia previously promised—only what seems like a mild attempt at brainwashing. Isolating a child’s exposure to one of two extremes poses serious psychological developmental concerns. Both utopian and dystopian literature can create a resounding impact in our youth, but the health of the future requires a blending of ideas, providing children the opportunity to take an informed stand as opposed to floating ignorantly through the micromanagement of the institutions.    

            Dystopian literature focuses on the individual rather than the community. For example, in “Speech Sounds,” Rye confronts the post-diseased world utterly alone, wavering between believing whether or not she is significant enough to make a difference in her situation. Although she joins Obsidian for a brief pairing, he quickly dies, leaving her in an isolated dystopia once again. The world’s hope and destiny rely on Rye and her ability to reinstate knowledge within her community. Similarly, we see Lauren in Parable as a quasi messiah who willingly receives the burden of her group in order to lead them to salvation. Yes, she is surrounded with people; but like Rye, she is the sole entity in which the world places its hope while the sense of community is absent. It is ironic that these are the novels taught in schools—schools in which administrators try so desperately to create a harmonious atmosphere. We didactically teach that everyone is equal while the curriculum contradicts this assertion with novels depicting an individual and isolated success. The utopian ideals of community and equality would perhaps be better matched with the ultimate goal of public schools; however there are advantages and disadvantages to maintaining a dystopian outlook from the classroom windows.

                        It is extremely easy to feel microscopic as only one participant in the huge expanse of the world. Assuming we are important enough to truly make a difference for the future seems daunting; however, dystopian literature can provide an element of relief. The main advantage of a dystopia is the self empowerment behind the idea that one person—particularly that awkward fifteen year old convinced she won’t amount to much—can have a lasting effect on the world.  With heroines such as Lauren and Rye bettering their own realities, young adults are shown examples of the potential they hold. For those less inspired students, dystopian literature also provides a spark of motivation. In an attempt to escape a future similar to one in “Speech Sounds,” wrought with disease and disastrous consequences, readers may glean and understanding of how to combat relevant issues in order to provide for a more productive future. However, the disadvantage lies in the lack of community, and how, ultimately, fear is a poor cause for motivation. Fear may be adjusted, brief, inconsequential, or irrational. Fear is often selfish. And affecting the future positively requires more compassion and desire for communal support than fear and the school-supported dystopian novel tend to advocate. 

            Unlike dystopian literature, novels depicting a perfect utopia embrace community, equality, and the subsequent loss of identity. As we see in “Poplar Street Study” and “Drapes and Folds,” citizens of attempted utopias, at the very least, always maintain a semblance of a decent standard of living. Although the people of Poplar Street assumed they would be attacked by the alien invasion, the aliens were merely there to take care of the families with “no interest in interfering in [their] lives” (152). Obviously, the community cannot function normally, but they also cannot complain of their needs not being met. They are given food, kept active with weekly physicals, and even encouraged to suggest television programs. In many ways, this community becomes a utopia. The community binds together, they no longer have to work, and Mr. Kramer overcomes his alcoholism. However, they begin to lose their identity starting with the food: it is the same for everyone. When Mr. Anderson reacts to the nourishment differently from the group, he is instantly removed, keeping the rest of the people equal and bland. In “Drapes and Folds,” the government is attempting to create a utopia by keeping everyone well fed and cancer free, thereby outlawing individuality. We meet Pearl, who is desperately clinging to her personal clothing, despite the fact that the officials are confiscating it all in exchange for standardized uniforms. This breach seems unfair until we learn that the new uniforms prevent cancer. Again, it is obvious Pearl and her family are taken care of, but to what end? It seems she would be much happier to take risks while living interestingly, instead of remaining safe and boring. While schools run from this theme, utopia is the only option churches present. Despite churches constantly acknowledging hardships stemming from the evil in this world, they refuse to assume an eternity less than the manmade provisions for perfection.

            A church insisting on one eternal utopia carries both positive and negative outcomes for its congregation. Like I said, the obvious advantage, as we see in “Poplar Street” and “Drapes and Folds,” is the idea of being taken care of no matter what the future holds. Similarly, the sense of community for which the schools strive is heavily emphasized: the church is bonded together as the body of Christ, the community in The Giver yearns for “Sameness,” while the officials in “Drapes and Folds” demand uniformity for the ultimate good of humanity. Then there is hope. However, this sense of everlasting hope can lead to the disadvantages of churches being single-minded. When a congregation becomes set on a permanent utopia, as depicted in “Revelation,” there is a possibility of complacency—a blasé attitude because the future is already written. Unlike dystopias where altering the future and making a lasting impact is plausible, utopias tend to lessen the motivation for change by allowing people to coast into them. There is also the possibility, as proposed in the midterm exam, that a utopia in its strictest sense cannot exist anyway. If churches adopted this sentiment—blending utopian and dystopian concepts—perhaps their focus would be shifted to a more productive balance, recognizing utopias and dystopias are closely related and cannot exist without each other.

            Everyone’s utopia is someone’s dystopia. Because we are all uniquely woven into individuals with separate perspectives, we cannot assume that one unifying solution will be right for everyone. Some may enjoy a future in which no thought is involved—one where food and shelter are a constant and hope is inevitable. Some, however, may see that as boring and lifeless, instead desiring a future unknown, able to be shaped by its inhabitants. Schools and churches run the risk of stunting children’s psychological development by not allowing a balance of the two. Schools should acknowledge the hope and communal bonding created in a utopia, while discouraging complacency. Students can be informed and empowered, able to make a difference when provided full disclosure. Churches need to understand that our language cannot fully access God, thereby proving He cannot be limited to our standards of utopia. Possibly there will be dystopian aspects to Heaven—but the fact that His glory will restore anything broken only makes God seem bigger. Churches can be unified, not in the power of utopia, but in the power of God. Indeed, a balance of the intertwining concepts of utopia and dystopia seems to be crucial to the betterment of our future.