I’ve been thinking of Han Qing-jao lately. Qing-jao is a character in “Xenocide” which is the fourth book of the series by Orson Scott Card that started with “Ender’s Game.” There will be some spoilers here in case you plan on reading that series. She is a deeply religious character who also suffers from mental illness in a way that you can’t really tell where one ends and the other begins. Without getting into that topic, I remember very little about the book except for her character.
Let me step back a bit. There’s a type of story that I’m uncomfortable with. We’re all familiar with the idea of a Redemption Arc in which a flawed character faces a challenge and becomes a better person. “Better” doesn’t necessarily mean “good,” but they’ve progressed. Ebenezer Scrooge is a classic example. I think that overall these are important stories in many (all?) cultures. They help to teach us that despite our own flaws, we can still become a better version of ourselves. I like many of these stories myself. It’s not the Redemption Arc that I’m uncomfortable with. I’m uncomfortable with it’s opposite, which I’ve seen described as the Corruption Arc. It starts off like a Redemption Arc. In act one we see the character as a flawed person. In act two they come to see how they can be a better person. In act three though, where a Redemption Arc would have them become that better person, the Corruption Arc sees them reject that path and either remain flawed or become worse. Qing-jao is such a character.
Qing-jao is a young girl living on another planet. Her father is Han Fei-tzu, who is considered to be the greatest of the “godspoken,” or those that can commune with the gods. Typically they do this wih some form of obsessive behavior. Qing-jao is determined to become a godspoken and she obsessively washes her hands and traces the woodgrain lines on her floor, to the point where that’s almost all that she does. It consumes her.
The book eventually reveals that the godspoken were genetically engineered to be both incredibly smart, but also to have obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) so that they could be easily controlled. Fei-tzu and Qing-jao have very different reactions to discovering this fact. Fei-tzu gets angry and wants to do something about it. Qing-jao believes that those who hold power over her are working in her best interest. Eventually a virus is developed that somewhat reverses the genetic engineering. It allows everyone on the planet to have the benefit of higher intelligence while eradicating the OCD. Fei-tzu releases the virus, setting the people free. Qing-jao, now seeing the truth and being set free from her OCD, rejects the truth and instead continues to trace lines on the floor until the day she dies.
Qing-jao’s story makes me uncomfortable. I like to believe in the redemption arc, and that we are all somewhere on the path to becoming better versions of ourselves. Something that I have trouble accepting is that this is not always the case. I have seen plenty of people in my life that are on downward paths. Hell, I have to be careful that I don’t end up on that path myself, and I hope that I have not. Some of the most difficult lessons I’ve had to accept in life came from people who I assumed had good intentions, but who let me down. Often this happens simply because we are two different people and while we both mean well, we are on two different paths (I know I’ve let other people down this way as well). Sometimes this is not the case, and I am assuming good intentions that simply do not exist. Sometimes the other person never sees the truth around them. They never take the opportunity to become a better person, and I have to eventually accept that this is simply who they are. Maybe they will eventually see the truth, but more than likely they will continue to metaphorically trace lines on the floor until they no longer exist.
I don’t like this thought. I don’t want to give up on people. I’ve mentioned before that I have a blind spot to evil intentions. It’s the same with this unwillingness or inability to improve. Seeing this kind of character either in fiction or in real life, the kind that doesn’t want to know the truth, doesn’t want to better themselves, puts me off-balance. It’s worse when it’s a person who is self-destructive. It’s the story of an addict who refuses to quit before their final overdose. It’s your relative who thinks every shitty thing that’s happened to them is because of those people. It’s the person that you just ache to find some way of getting through to them, but you never do.
I see it on the macro level as well, and I wonder what it means for our communities, our country, and humanity. So many people who reject the evidence of their eyes and ears. So many who could do so much to make the world a better place but simply don’t. Does it mean that for some (many?) people there is simply no better version to be had? Are we largely beyond redemption? Are we so comfortable living in the world of the habits and beliefs that we’ve formed that we will reject any truth that makes us uncomfortable?
That is not the person I want to be. Let’s go find the truth and strive to become better people, even if it makes us uncomfortable.
“Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened.”
– Unknown, though often attributed to Winston Churchill
