I love kids. They’re adorable, funny, and lively. I love watching them and being around them. It shouldn’t be shocking to hear that any seen involving toddlers in this book got the biggest reaction out of me. The way this “advanced” society treats children is deplorable. From the Pavlovian experiments on page 13 to Linda beating her son for existing on page 85, I was upset to near tears. However, when any adult was suffering, I lacked empathy. Could it have been because most of the adults in this story have very trivial woes? Maybe. Could it have been because I disliked the character? Perhaps. When faced with the hardships of the “savages”, which were much harsher and sadder, I still felt very little sympathy for the adults. I cared more about them than the “civilized” people, but still not as much as the children. I’ve noticed this apathy for my elders for a long time. The troubles of adults often bore me. Especially the adults in this book. Most of the reader’s time has been spent with bland men or women with no self-worth. Everyone is on drugs, they live like royal cattle, and they still find the audacity to complain? Part of me hates them, particularly when I consider what they do to these kids. I find children more worthy of my compassion because I trust them more. I was the oldest sister and cousin, so I’ve spent my whole life playing with and trusting younger people. With my newest cousin, who is almost 2, I feel that that trust in children is growing. I guess I’ll have to keep myself from rolling my eyes the next time some rich Alpha complains. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a good reason not to care next time.
0 comments