Books on Community Part 2

As I read The Irresistible Revolution I thought of the biblical truth that works without love, even if determined to change the world, are useless. As I read a violent and disturbing novel, I saw what a community without love could look like. The Beach made not only for an odd pairing with Claiborne's book, but also some interesting contrast.

Richard is British, and he finds himself in Thailand on vacation. But he's not a tourist. He makes it very clear that he's a traveler, and he refuses to waste time with people who are not. He finds other travelers and a mysterious map to an even more mysterious island. It's not much of a spoiler to say they find it. They also find a gathering of some additional travelers in an attempt at a Utopian, anti-tourist existence. Richard finds a friend with a game boy (this was written in the 90s) and fits right in.

At first I thought the community would be a cult. In a way, it was. However, it's selfishness that drives these people. They work and help each other because it's mostly convenient for them. Then they smoke pot and drink coconut booze (the professor would be appalled). It's all about entertainment in their utopia.

There's a lot of comparisons to the Vietnam war, mostly because Richard is obsessed with movies about it.

He enjoys the fact that they live near a pot field, not because he's a pothead, but because he's near danger. He likes it too much. Either because of this, or because the novel's by Alex Garland (writer of 28 Days Later), things don't stay pretty.

Maybe things don't stay pretty because there's no real basis of friendship. The people share a common bond, but is that deep enough? It doesn't seem deeper than their desires to please themselves.

What scares me about an over-the-top-violent book like this is the overall believability of it. I see their squabbles and I see ours as most humans. (Minus the pot in my case. Coffee's strong enough for me, thanks.) I see small groups within groups sectioned off, effectively avoiding diversity like the plague. All pretenses aside, it's all about survival of the fittest.

Here's a hint of the lack of diversity in friendships in the story. At the beginning we have some entertaining run-ins with interesting Thai characters. That doesn't last long, and I don't believe Mr. Garland wrote it that way by accident. Richard can't escape the natives fast enough.

What comforts me is the over-the-topness of the end. Real life wouldn't end that ridiculously violent. It still wouldn't be pretty, but perspective doesn't hurt.

This vulgar work of fiction scolded my own desires for friends who were more like me. It's all about video games, war games, adventure, and only having friends who can help feed those desires. I pray to love the unlovable when I can't even love the neighbors right under my nose. (Yes, even the one who demands protection money, but that's another story.)

The dirty book scolds me. Shame on it.