Mild spoilers ahead for The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa (though it's far too odd to spoil easily)
Part I: The Premise
I'll set the stage a bit.
The story follows a young writer and her experiences on an undisclosed island where slowly but surely, everything is disappearing. To ensure these disappearances go smoothly, the titular Memory Police destroy all evidence of the things that disappear. These range from simple trinkets such as toys, to more abstract concepts, like songs.
Once something has disappeared, so does all memory and emotion attached to it. A child's beloved doll simply becomes a malformed sack of cotton and string. That same child will shrug as they throw the doll into a burning pile of other dolls, everyone accepting it was simply time for the dolls to go.
Although most people forget, some select individuals never do. They must play their role in society and pretend that what was lost never existed at all. Otherwise, they are taken in by the Memory Police, never to be seen alive ever again. As can be expected, the writer soon faces dangers that make her question the necessity of the Memory Police, and wonder why these disappearances happen in the first place.
Part II: Loss
The surface read of the novel is that it's about censorship, and for fairly obvious reasons, this is the most popular interpretation. The totalitarian imagery, the cultural erasure, and silencing of those who challenge the status quo are typical tropes of the dystopian genre. However, The Memory Police explores loss on a much deeper level than its initially Orwellian concept implies.
The Memory Police, for all of their mysterious machinations, never explicitly display power over what disappears. Creepy and controlling, to be sure, but no more than most authoritarian governments in history. After all, many with memories still escape their grip, showcasing they aren't the most powerful force on the island.
And yet the disappearances remain nigh-encompassing. It is blatantly absurd, such as hatmakers who suddenly find themselves forgetting how to make hats because they all have to disappear now. Not because The Memory Police told them to, but because they mentally just lost the ability to attach any significance to what a hat even is. It's not just tyrants that ensure nothing lasts forever.
So does time itself.
Part III: Memory
There's no rhyme or reason to it. After enough days have passed, things will just stop existing. It may be accelerated by natural disasters or authoritarian institutions, but eventually, everything that is will stop being. Or at the very least, people will stop caring about what it's supposed to represent.
When we uncover artifacts from the past and have no idea what its about, how real is it? We know words exist on a tablet, we know someone wrote it at some point in the last, but we don't have the means to understand what it's about or it's significance. It's scribbling on rocks, but it is undeniably the mark of someone, somewhere, long ago.
Yet most people won't even give it a second glance. Although the accelerated destruction of these things are undeniably cruel, there's no denying the harsh truth that the story conveys. The people you love, the songs you always listen to, the toys you played with, and even something as simple as that weird tree you pass by on the way home. All these hold significant meaning now, but will fade away with time.
As a Filipino, I feel this deeply. So much about my culture has been erased by colonization. Even more just faded as those who practiced it grew old and died. What makes me a Filipino now, will be completely alien to the pagan shamans who once called my country home. I can't begin to imagine how much these cultural touchstones matter for older generations. As much as I appreciate their value, I can never truly feel what they feel.
Some curious archaeologists may inquire about its purpose, but rarely will sentimentality play a factor. Everything that was once "you" is no longer you, but an artifact. The Memory Police takes the concept to some extreme levels, but the core tackles themes of identity. If memory and emotion are what makes things what they are, what happens if it disappears, whether naturally or by force? It's these questions that elevate The Memory Police from being just another dystopian cautionary tale.
Part IV: Who Tells Your Story
There's a fascinating naming convention at play with the important characters. Almost every significant character in the present who can remember things are named. Meanwhile, the writer herself never mentions her name, nor does anyone else. The old man, the writer's closest friend, also never gets a name. The neighbors do not have names either, they are simply called by their professions. Hatmaker, butcher, fruit vendor, these are all that everybody else is.
The names play into another unfortunate aspect of what's lost in history. People will more likely remember the Revolutionaries, those "special few" who remember what things were supposed to be like. The oppressed are reduced to the most basic descriptions, their lives a footnote in some forgotten records.
And yet the novel shows how those same revolutionaries so desperately want to save these people, teach them how to feel again. Show them what the world was like before. But their circumstances, quite literally, mean they can't even fathom such concepts anymore. They're concerned with simply surviving, seeing what the next day has to offer, and finding solace in small pleasures afforded them.
Part V: The Importance of Being
The story keeps asking, "what's the point of remembering?" People can't eat nostalgia. They can't even find warmth in the memories of who they've lost anymore. Everyday life means energy needs to be spent holding onto those that are still here. It was refreshing to read a dystopian story that showcases the mundane everyday life under oppression. It makes the story feels so much more vulnerable, and showcases why it's so hard to start revolutions.
But even as tyrants, tsunamis and time itself chips away at who we are, humanity keeps fighting for their miniscule spot in the vast cosmos. Why? Some characters in the story say it's for legacy. To feel the spark of what life is about. To fight against the power. To remember the ones who've gone. But really, it all boils down to one thing: we, as humans, want to be seen.
And that's a fine enough reason to me.
by CarnivorousL