The Unit by Ninni Holmqvist

I had read a number of blog reviews about this one last year. The white laboratory-like cover coupled with my weakness for a dystopian novel attracted me, and then the premise sealed the deal. I sent for it right away. The time for reading it only came recently.
Set in Sweden in the near future, Dorrit, our main character, tells her story in the first person. We enter her world while she is waiting outside her ramshackle cottage for a large car with blacked-out windows to arrive and take her and her meagre luggage away. She is going to The Unit, an establishment in an unknown part of the country that voluntarily houses women over 50 and men over 60 in constant luxury for the remaining part of their lives. In this society older citizens without children or dependents and without a progressive job, are considered to be a drain on the whole and therefore dispensible, and being unnecessary in this way are largely ostricised and unable to get financial help in any form. The alternative is to opt for The Unit, a huge, enclosed place with theatres, art galleries, sports facilities, cinemas, cafes, therapies, restaurants, dancing, parties, enormous gardens... it goes on, and all without money or financial worries. The catch is that to become necessary to society you have to take part in medical experiments, gentle ones at first to ease you in, then you start donating parts of yourself, to enable the necessary members of society to live. Eventually, on average after 4 years in The Unit, you will make a final donation ending your life. These final donations, such as a heart and lung transplant, will only be considered when all other avenues have been explored, but everyone at The Unit knows that their day will come, voluntarily or not, and this is their contribution to society.
Already this scenario throws a lot of questions into the mix, and then it complicates it further because all of the people in there are artists, writers, sculptors, photographers, from the creative sides of life and therefore have a lot in common. For probably the first time in a long time they have support, from each other, friendship, common-ground, and even love. What if, in an alienating world, the first time that you truly encounter humanity is when your days are numbered? What then?
We explore all of this through Dorrit's eyes. All of her questions about how she ended up in this situation, agonizing over saying goodbye to her life outside, where her mother had encouraged independence, and a terminated pregnancy while a student had jeopardised forming attatchments, so that when this regime, at first loathed as extreme, but gaining favour until finally attaining power, came about, she was on the wrong side of the policies and labelled 'unnecessary'. Now, on the inside, the unthinkable happens. Dorrit finds love and more, but where to go now?
I knew this would be a hard read, dystopian novels usually are, but I did not expect it to be so overwhelmingly sad. The sparse and economical writing makes it even more heartbreaking. I must have been in tears about 5 times during its duration, I had to stop reading it on the bus to and from work. It is unbelievably sad, and unexpectedly so. Futuristic society novels can sometimes have a coldness that enables you to distance yourself a little from them but I found this to be the opposite. I totally identified with Dorrit, I was in her world immediately, and although it is a different kind of world, it was not so far away as you would think. Peoples kindness comes through and far from being clinical, The Unit is a reasonably safe environment, and supposedly voluntary, presenting you with so many grey areas from which to explore your ethical standpoint. Of course it is despicable, but it is dressed up in a way that makes you consider the option with much more to go on, than in say Never Let Me Go by Kasuo Ishiguro, which explores similar but ultimately different themes.
I loved this book, it sucked me in from the first page and made me feel so much. I identified with many of the characters (if it were a true scenario I could very well be headed to The Unit myself in the not too distant future), it gave me so many powerful things to think about, and I found myself considering it when not reading it too. But mostly it was the emotional ride I was not expecting and it is this that gave me such a fruitful read. Any book that makes you think and feel is a winner to me and I certainly enjoyed this one.
It would be a great title for reading groups with so much to debate. A Reading Group Guide can be found for The Unit here.
Ninni Holmqvist is a featured author on GoodReads, use the link to read more.
This book was read for #6 of my personal challenges to read at least one dystopian novel this year.

Never Let Me Go by Kasuo Ishiguro

A strange one this book, narrated by one of the 3 main characters, most of the story is told in retrospect. It is about 3 people and how they grow up at school together and what happens to them afterwards. Not that strange so far and the early part reads a little bit like a more sophisticated version of Mallory Towers by Enid Blyton, children at a mixed boarding school in England in the near future, playing sports, learning, socialising. But this is not an ordinary school and our narrator, Kathy drops enough hints even on the first page. The full picture, however, emerges slowly. Strange words like 'donors' and 'completion' litter the otherwise ordinary beginning of a carer recounting her school days. There are no parents, endless creativity for the Gallery, sales of 2nd hand items and, most profoundly, the reactions amongst the teachers towards the children to make you want to read on and find out the roots of their situation. Some teachers seem embarressed to be there, others view them with open distaste, one recoils in horror if they come near. Most are civil and kind, but distant. One wants the chidren to be more informed. Anyone who visits from outside rushes in and out as if they will be contaminated.

The children find some of this intriguing but also used to it and are preoccupied by growing up. Their world seems second hand and a bit shabby, the children willingly forgotten. This is most evident when they leave school and are deposited on a dilapidated farm in Norfolk, where it is so cold at night they have to pile rugs on the bed to keep warm. During this time, as they grow, have relationships, fall outs, they learn of their destiny. This life is all they know and there are periods when you forget that their situation is far from normal.

The whole idea behind the book raises a lot of ethical questions which are good for discussion. The writing is unusual, sedate, stoical. None of the children rebel or even argue about it. They do not want sympathy or understanding. They have no contemplation of the guilt that surrounds them. You find yourself asking them 'Why don't you just run away?' Kathy's point of view is insightful as well as distancing. It is as if she needs to write it down to put it together herself. Also I really did not like Ruths character and couldn't understand why none of them stood up to her. At times I found them infuriating, their obsessions, building dramas out of nothing, like going to see this legendary boat, which is just a boat and never mentioned again. I also found that this illustrated their differences and also their sadness, from an outsiders point of view. The emotionless cloud that forms around the text is unsettling but is successful as it is the only way we can experience these unfortunates, who are not machines but people, brought up kindly, but practically, and without love, knowing that their purpose is a service with an ultimate price.

A book I found interesting, more after I had read it. I was unable to connect with anyone in it to have any great impact emotionally. It does provide, however, food for thought about the morality of some developments that are nearer than we think. A definate talking point and unusual read.

Here are some links for further reading:-

http://www.bookbrowse.com/reading_guides/detail/index.cfm?book_number=1556

http://books.guardian.co.uk/reviews/generalfiction/0,,1425209,00.html