Calvino’s Invisible Cities makes clear the role
personal perspective plays in the how a certain place or journey is experienced
by a particular traveler. Black Rainbow also
perpetuates the idea that every character brings with him a certain prejudice
or background which affects the way he responds to various circumstances in the
plot.
At the opening of
his text, Wendt uses simplistic language to establish the dull tone of his
characters’ routine suburban existence. Although both the husband and wife, who remain
nameless, are active within their shared life, they react differently to their circumstances,
“the same[ness] of every morning” (14). The supposed normalcy and ritualistic
lifestyle provides the husband, the main character, with a sense of security
while his wife feels as though she is trapped by her situation. She explains to
her husband that she “want[s] to go back to [her] house, [their] son, [their]
community” (13). While his wife suffers (17) under the constant surveillance of
Auckland’s government, the husband finds the city and his Tribunal meetings to
be “an egg in which [he feels] secure, unafraid” (22). Their journey continues as
a series of routines which can either be viewed as limiting or as stabilizing
depending on interpretive choice.
Another example of
perspective’s role in interpretation is presented when the protagonist is
recognized as a Free Citizen by the Tribunal and begins his pursuit as a “searcher.”
The narrator sees his status and his mission as motivating and reinvigorating: “there
was purpose to [his] life again: the search for [his] family, while they, the
hunters, stalked [him]” (43). An outsider, like a reader, however, could view
the protagonist’s quest as a game, a contrived situation organized by the
Tribunal, which leaves him notes, directions, and vague threats. His story is
referred to as an “epic” (99), illustrating that it is already scripted and its
end determined.
The role of
personal bias is acknowledged somewhat directly throughout the first half of Black Rainbow, as well. The narrator
explains, it is “strange how we see reality through art and the other cultural
baggage we carry” (65). At the safehouse, as the keeper begins to tell her
first story, the protagonist thinks that “a tale is about other tales; it is also
the teller and her telling” (105) meaning that every story is affected by
multiple points of view and can never truly be unbiased. Even the President of
the Tribunal says, as quoted by John, that “‘We are each many selves’” (77). This
acknowledgement is ironic because the Tribunal’s goal is to erase individual histories
for the betterment of the universal community. The keeper at the safehouse poses
a poignant question which will be important to examine as Wendt’s text continues:
“What happens when the history, the looking back, is outlawed, bred out of our
breath?” (106) Is this erasure even possible—can a character or person truly
come to an experience without the effect of preconceived notions or subjective ideologies?
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