Solution For World Hunger

In my previous post, I pondered why, if Daniel Quinn's novel holds the secret to saving the world, he hadn't won any awards, like the Nobel Peace Prize. Now I know why. His proposal, in the guise of Ishmael, to both end world hunger and solve overpopulation, is to let people starve.

People of India, people of North Africa, people of Bangladesh, all hungry people alike, must starve in order to bring the global population down to a controllable size so that there is enough food for all animals. The argument Ishmael makes here is that world hunger is caused by increased food production. The high food production makes the population increase, which causes further food production, and the cycle repeats itself. Ishmael argues that since governments send aid to those who are starving, the population increase only continues and more people starve. Ishmael, being a gorilla, bases his arguments off of his observations of wildlife from the jungle canopy. He says in the animal kingdom, an animal only kills what it needs for that specific meal; it never kills to have food for later, and neither bothers nor kills that which is does not need for survival. The reason mankind fails at this is because instead of letting people starve so that the population decreases to the point where there is enough food for all living animals, we just keep making more food and worsening the issue. Ishmael then chortles at the incompetence of mankind and nibbles on his bamboo.*

I'm unsure how I feel about this. By today's societal standards, this is obviously considered unethical. Perhaps it would even seem selfish for a country such as the U.S, which has such an abundance of food, to not donate some to those in a need. Ishmael, however, argues it is selfish of humans to think they are always responsible to help, and that starvation is basically nature taking its course. This is a thought provoking proposition, and I wonder how it would go over in the UN. I assume a country like Britain would be strongly opposed to this because they think they are a godsend and should help all  developing countries. This meeting would also likely take place behind closed doors, without the knowledge of third world countries. It's an interesting way to end overpopulation as well as world hunger, but I don't know if I can formulate my own opinion on the matter at the moment. Leave your thoughts in the comments.

Also, the law which I spoke briefly about in my previous post has been identified. In short, the law states that no species shall make the life of the world its own. This ties into the idea about world hunger, since certain humans take it upon themselves to try to aid other people. This law is still in development in the novel.

The following image is a drawing in the book that supposedly Ishmael drew. It almost looks like a kindergartner checked this book out before I did and doodled in it to try to make sense of Ishmael's theories. Still, pretty impressive for an ape.

FYI, the "Leavers" referenced in this drawing is tribal people that lived simply and in accordance with nature, and "Takers" is basically mankind in modern society.

*=artistic license

Peeling the banana peel back a little further...

I just noticed something: The protective outer layer of a banana is called a "peel," and verb of removing that layer is "peeling." Interesting. That sounds like something Ishmael/Daniel Quinn would observe.

But that's not what the title of this post refers to.

The title of this post refers to the interesting yet depressing prose that I'm encountering more of the deeper I delve into Ishmael.

In the latest section I've covered in Ishmael, the novel has moved a bit out of the initial "How things came to be this way" question and more into the "Why are they this way" and "Where are things going" questions. And so far it isn't looking too good for mankind. It's easy for a gorilla to trash talk humans, because he's not one! What have gorillas contributed to society?

Well, according to the silverback himself, it's not that gorillas have contributed to society, nor is it their contributions to society that matter, but rather that gorillas and all animals alike (bar humans) follow a law. This law, Ishmael assures our narrator, is the same type of law that governs gravity or thermodynamics.  It's a law that concerns how all animal ought to live, but the problem is that some people "about ten thousand years ago said man is exempt from this law" (119).

An interesting analogy Ishmael uses to infer the consequences of breaking this law goes as follows: a man trying to build an aircraft jumps off a high cliff with his aircraft. To move the wings, he pedals. Initially, the flight seems to be going great; he is moving through the air and the wings are flapping, "just like the bird!" However, he notices in the valley below him, many an abandoned aircraft. He cannot contemplate why anyone would abandon an aircraft. He also notices the ground rushing up at him at an accelerating rate. He thinks that if he pedals a little harder, he'll be okay. But that ground is still rushing up. The aircraft is doomed, and so is the man unless he abandons it. Ishmael goes on to say that mankind is the aircraft, and those abandoned aircraft are ancient civilizations; the Maya, the Anasazi. Some people think that if we pedal a little harder, civilization will be okay. But the ground is rushing up towards us at an accelerating rate.

This is a little depressing. It's a little depressing because there's a good amount of truth in it, especially when looking at the impact humans have had on the environment. It's obvious that humans have taken the earth and left it worse than we found it. The global temperature is rising. The Middle East is blowing up. David Bowie died. What is going on? There are those of us that are what one could call either pessimists or realists, who realize that the aircraft is crashing and we don't know when it will happen, but it isn't looking too good for mankind. There are also optimists who think if mankind "pedals a little harder," the damage we've inflicted unto the earth will heal or stabilize or improve and we can live on the way we have for several hundred, if not thousand, years. Reading Ishmael is pulling me towards the former group, similar to how the gorilla pulls the man in this YouTube video. I hate to sound like Al Gore, but it's a bit of an inconvenient truth. For the record, the I don't support Al Gore, and Mark Zuckerberg is to thank for the Internet.

Ishmael has yet to state what this law the humans should live by is, but I think we'll be getting to that soon. I feel like if it was such a monumental law, however, it would be publicly acknowledged and Daniel Quinn would win a Nobel Peace Prize or something. Again, this is where Quinn's credibility comes into question. Anyway, this section mostly discussed how man has been lazy towards following the laws of nature and also destructive towards the earth, and that mankind is doomed. It's pretty depressing, and something tells me there's no bag of bananas at the end of this philosophical typhoon.

Al Gore: sophisticated fraud. I almost feel like the narrator of this novel is Al Gore. That would explain a lot.

Midlife existential crisis=A Chance To Change Your Life

Propaganda at its finest:

Daniel Quinn really promises a lot in Ishmael. The gorilla, after whom the novel is titled, communicates telepathically with the narrator through a glass wall. While communicating with the narrator, Ishmael challenges the way modern scientists have studied evolution, and questions anthropology and modern culture entirely. What makes me temporarily pause my reading and scratch my patchy chin scruff is my internally imperative reminder that this is not an omnipotent gorilla trying to challenge modern science. It's Daniel Quinn, an 80 year old environmentalist from Nebraska.
The novel is easy to tap into, as the narrator gives a brief summary of who he is and where he came from, and why he feels as bitter and cold towards the advertisement to "change the world" as he does. I say it's easy to tap into because I think the narrator is a relatable character. He was once interested in challenging society and looking for more meaning in life than "Get a job, make some money, work till you’re sixty, then move to Florida and die" (3). But, as is often the case, he was disillusioned when he entered adulthood, and finds himself conforming to the life of his parents and his friends. The ideas of both seeking a deeper meaning in life and also fearing living a meaningless life and being forgotten with the passage of time is something universal, and it allows the reader to connect to the narrator right away.
Ishmael, our silverbacked Plato, also gives us a short autobiography. During this section, it was interesting to think about life in captivity from an animal's perspective, but, once again, this is where I must remind myself that it's really just Daniel Quinn speculating what it would be like to be an incredibly intelligent primate in captivity. This, for me, is where the book becomes more of a reading that I frequently critique as I read, rather than a true philosophical work that I accept as either fact or breakthrough ideas. Although, 40 pages into the work, I've encountered a number of thought-provoking ideas, and perhaps that's all Mr. Quinn hopes to give his reader, this book is not the work of Stephen Hawking or Aristotle. It's not even a gorilla. We, the reader, are supposed to believe the ideas in the book come from an omnipotent gorilla who outlasted the Great Depression and both Red Scares. I think I'd have an easier time believing that all modern history is a myth if I actually heard it from a gorilla, rather than from Danny Q. That said, there are ideas in the book that are not only thought provoking but also sensible if one makes them self read the novel as a textbook, accepting what Ishmael tells us as the truth.
Following along with some of Ishmael's jungle-rattling ideas is very easy, because, in almost every instance where you read a passage that makes you feel like you're reading the old AP Quantum Physics textbook, the following question asked by the narrator is usually something along the lines of "Come again?" Take, for example, this passage:

“What have people been told that keeps them from becoming excited, that keeps them relatively calm when they view the catastrophic damage they’re inflicting on this planet?”

"I don't know." (25)

I wish my science textbooks read like that.

Every once in a while, while sitting in the senior lounge, I begin to think about Ishmael. I begin to think about the origins of our culture, and what culture seems like to a jellyfish (refer to page 32). And that's how I know Ishmael is a good book. It's ideas linger with me even after I've read as much of Quinn's environmentalist philosophy as I think I can handle. Thus far, Ishmael has asked a lot of questions. I would say it has raised more questions than it has answered. But it has also made me think differently about history and culture is studied. I look forward to seeing if Daniel Quinn will rise to the occasion of attempting to answer these questions without seeming like a total wingnut, or if I will finish this novel and feel as disillusioned as our narrator. 

P.S. The number of overearnest memes relating to this novel is hilarious. They must have all been created by Daniel Quinn's cult.

TOTO

GORILLA AFRICA PHIL COLLINS