Bewilderment

This book has me filled with conflicting thoughts.

First off, I haven't read Powers since Galatea 2.2, which I read in college. I remember my core takeaway from Galatea 2.2 was that Powers was a skilled wordsmith who perhaps suffered from a problem of over-inflated ego to create a book that inward and self-congratulatory. Even the photo of himself in the back of the book etched itself into my mind as “ugh, this guy.”

So when Overstory got heaped with praise, I didn't bother. Now this one happened, and I gave ole Richard Powers another chance.

I'm glad I did. Richard Powers of 1995 is a different Richard Powers than 2021, although he's still using that same black-and-white photo from ages ago. I get it, my Goodreads profile photo is from 2012. We all freeze our view of ourselves in our mind at some fixed point where we looked a certain way, I suppose.

This book had a lot of heart to it and yes, a Richard Powers book gave me potent emotions, which was something. Listening to an interview he did a few weeks ago with Ezra Klein (oh lord) it was clear this Richard Powers was more introspective of the one from the past that I delved into and reaffirmed my personal beliefs on. Throughout ‘Bewilderment' we're treated to the character Theo, who's clearly a stand-in for Powers, which hey, I get it. Anyway, Theo has a son, Robin, who's neurodivergent. Theo, a scientist himself, dislikes the idea of his son on mind-altering drugs, although increased incidents at school are leading them to a path with very few options.

I'm gonna stop here and just say, if spoilers bother you, there's plenty from here out.

Ah, until a doctor pal of Theo's deceased wife emerges to talk about this therapy system he's created, an iteration on something both Theo and Aly had strapped themselves into before to scan their brains. This could do the trick and solve Robin's problems by allowing him to do tasks within this machine alongside the brain scan of his mother.

Powers is still playing with the idea of technology and how it cohabitates the planet with us, for better or for worse. Theo himself is working to simulate what life on other planets could look like, with his bets on a satellite imaging system in the age of, well, let's just say it, Trump. Robin goes into this therapy and goes from having violent outbursts about how we're ruining the world, an attempt to both emulate and pay tribute to Greta Thunberg (who is in the book under a different name), who mellows out a bit and tries to find his own ways to impact the world. Only, his secret therapy isn't a secret for too long when the good doctor decides the world needs this technology, or... he needs money through licensing agreements.

Robin becomes an internet sensation because of his feel-good story and Theo feels guilt for allowing his son to become a spectacle, even if Robin sees this as a way to get a message out to more people. The conservative gov't cuts off funding to both the therapy program, puts the doctor under investigation, then cuts off funding for Theo's eyes-in-the-sky. Robin starts slipping and, ultimately, things go terribly wrong, leaving Theo alone, with his only hope being this therapy in a stripped-down version of the good doctor's office alongside scans of his deceased wife and son.

This story is... well, look. It's difficult to be an American writer of certain sensibilities without synthesizing what's been happening in the United States into your work. The COVID pandemic wasn't present, but cows contracting a neurological disorder that was set to wipe them out happened, crops were dying, it was all in the same vein of our slow-burning late stage capitalism-fueled apocalypse. As I said, this was a much more human Powers, and the story was touching, but when I start digging beneath the surface for thematic elements, a lot of it is still stuck in the past.

This book was an Oprah's Book Club book, which doesn't surprise me. It embodies modern liberal ideals and, from a comfortable distance, criticizes modern society while eschewing any sort of solution or blame. In the interview with Klein, the subject of capitalism came up many times, with Klein hemming and hawing with “I'm not an anticapitalist” nonsense based on his own brand of free market neoliberalism, while Powers seemed comfortable criticizing capitalism. Still, a lot of his views are informed from “unplugging” from his home in Silicon Valley and moving to the Smokies, where he reconnected with nature. The problem is... that's from a place of privilege that few of us can do. We can visit whatever nature we can find in our area, but uprooting and moving into the woods isn't feasible for most.

The critical eye towards technology and media is right there, with no better example than his cell phone. Theo's phone plays a prominent role throughout the story, from doomscrolling news feeds to emergency SMS messages from the president about nonsense right down to playing a pivotal role in the book's finale. Theo's phone couldn't save them. On their fated walk down to a river that Robin's deceased mother loved, Theo discovered about his telescope project being kaput via a text message chain. Then, when he needed service to call for help, it wasn't there.

Theo's continued existence is, in part, from his refusal to abandon technology and fully embrace the world like his wife and son did. The message being sent is rather grim, though, as both of them died in perhaps misguided attempts to defend or protect nature, no matter the cost. All while, Theo continues to live on, a firm believer in the ideals espoused by the people he loves, but not enough to give his life for them. His only way forward is to once again embrace technology to remember his family.

While there are obvious issues of modern society on display, a lot like modern liberalism, Powers cannot find a solution outside of “trust science” and “don't be a bad guy.” The book seems like it's on the verge of saying more than that, but ultimately ends with a message that anyone attempting positive change ends up eaten alive, while the rest of us are left pinning our hopes on incrementalist centrists.

Oh, and why do I read Goodreads reviews? I saw a few claiming this book felt “antivax” because he didn't want to give his kid psychoactive drugs and I just... why?!

I enjoyed this book a lot, though, and Powers remains an immensely skilled writer who I now have to return to later on.