Wool

A society where just a handful of people have control over the transmission of information, where history is being constantly revised to hide the nature of uncomfortable events, where certain gestures and thoughts are subject to severe punishment – not because they’re harmful to other people, but to the status quo -, and where the government doesn’t hesitate to violently suppress any opposition: the universe of Wool, a science fiction novel written by Hugh Howey, can be considered both dystopian and relevant to current times.

The protagonist of Wool is Juliette, a brilliant mechanic who is suddenly, and against her will, nominated to a political position inside the silo she lives in. Accepting the job, however, brings her much more trouble than she had anticipated, as her frequent inquiries are not viewed favorably by particular sections of her society.

The highlight of the story is its unique world, formed entirely within a silo. In the same way that Snowpiercer traces social hierarchy through the countless wagons of its train, Wool structures its city vertically, with each floor of the building representing a social class. While mechanics work in the depths of the silo, tirelessly keeping it running, those at the top live comfortable lives, worrying only about the sensors that reveal the outside world. Yet the rich are as alienated as the poor, with the real government being exercised by those who control the flow of information, develop technology, and hide behind an apolitical mask. The alienation in the silo is total. While the workers are too busy with their own survival to wonder about politics, those at the top are distracted by what the post-apocalyptic vision of their world represents: a daily reminder that they are in the best position they could possibly be.

The panels that show the silo’s exterior make the first point of conflict in the novel, during the prologue centered around the character of Sheriff Holston. Beautifully constructed, these early chapters of Wool introduce us to its universe through a melancholic and fatalistic point of view. Holston has been dealing with depression since his wife’s suicide, who was obsessed with what might exist outside the silo and had expressed the desire to leave. This a crime punished with death by exile: the person is thrown outside with a bit of wool to clean the external sensors and soon after die of radiation. Holston is haunted by his wife’s many questions, especially regarding the actions of the people who went outside: why do they always clean the sensors when they could just walk away, being already free from the silo’s jurisdiction and power. When the story begins, Sheriff Holston has finally decided to look into the situation himself.

It’s no wonder that the desire to leave is the worst transgression that can be committed in that society. The moment when the feeling of collective dissatisfaction gets tied to the idea that our lives are not improving not because of some imaginary enemy – such as immigrants or communists -, but because of the way our society is built, is the moment when revolution gets its first spark. The penalty imposed on those that express these disruptive ideas is deeply ironic, simply brilliant in its intent to subvert the symbolism of revolution: while cleaning a sensor means opening the eyes of those inside the silo for what there is out there, what is shown ends up serving the contrary purpose of the act, reinforcing, in fact, the fear that keeps all of them in their proper places. If a revolutionary wants to open the eyes of the people to the truth about the world, the government in the silo punishes them by making them open everyone’s eyes to how necessary the government is.

The novel’s original title, Wool, is then directly related to this idea of collective perception, as wool is the material used to clean the outside sensors. Expanding the metaphor, it also appears in the knitting done by the mayor in the second act, representing the fragile tangle of relationships that sustain that society.

The narrative in Wool follows the process of “enlightenment” of the inhabitants of the silo, who gradually start to grasp the gravity of the situation they are in. As is the case of most dystopias, the individuals don’t initially recognize that they live in one, only perceiving what is happening around them slowly and gradually. And when they finally realize that they really can make things better, but that would mean a radical change in the system, those in power are already responding with increasing police brutality.

The silo, therefore, is built as a claustrophobic setting, described as a pressure cooker ready to burst at any moment (“The enormous pent-up pressure of the place was now hissing through the seams in whispers”). The book works with the thesis that revolutions have a cyclical nature, even being part of the mythology of the silo, which has its own myths and legends about ancient uprisings. This confers a tragic tone to the events, which seem doomed to repeat forever with no real transformation (“There had been a march like this. Similar boots on the same treads. Maybe some of the same boots, just with new soles”). Revolution, in the world of Wool, seems both unavoidable and inconsequential, never really changing anything meaningful: humanity is bound to structure itself in a way where the few oppress the many.

There are some great character bits spread throughout the novel, too. Holston’s helplessness and lack of emotional support, for example, are perfectly portrayed when the character finishes climbing the great staircase of the silo and his hand touching the handrail suddenly… encounter nothing, suspended in the air. With Juliette, we see several metaphors about mechanics, reflecting the woman’s pragmatic worldview and occupation: “She had come to believe that there was no fastener she couldn’t unstick, had learned to attack them with grease and with fire, with penetrating oil and brute strength. With enough planning and persistence, they always gave.”

Wool‘s only problem is its climax. The last act is prolonged by unnecessary scenes, such as a character’s attempt to activate submerged bombs, and the solution found by the eventual revolution is anticlimactic, coming from a random character with little build-up. It all seems too easy and it lacks dramatic impact.

Despite some issues at the finishing line, Wool sets itself as a fine example of dystopian science fiction, delivering a mature  and well-developed story.

December 05, 2018.

Originally published in Portuguese on January 14, 2017.