Ma Boyong’s “The City of Silence” and Pandemic Life at Boston University
Gillian McMahon
Instructor’s Introduction
In my fall 2020 WR120 class Brave New Worlds, dystopian literature never seemed more relevant. With the coronavirus pandemic raging across the country and isolating individuals at home, Ma Boyong’s descriptions of a lonely protagonist tied to his computer for work and social interaction rang with familiarity for many students. Gillian McMahon’s insightful and poignant close reading essay analyzes “The City of Silence” for its proleptic vision of a first year, first semester college student, learning under lockdown at Boston University. While Gillian recognizes the large difference between living under an authoritarian surveillance state and being a college student under COVID restrictions, she, nonetheless, targets shared psychological effects of social isolation. Gillian’s essay registers the echoes of dystopia that existed in the months before the vaccine was available and reminds us that lockdown impacted young people in ways we are only just starting to understand.
Michele Martinez
Ma Boyong’s “The City of Silence” and Pandemic Life at Boston University
Before March 13, 2020, no one would have ever imagined the entire world changing due to the coronavirus pandemic. But oddly enough, elements of the quarantine we experienced have already been written about in dystopian literature. In Ma Boyong’s short story “The City of Silence” from the collection Invisible Planets edited by Ken Liu, the government controls citizens’ abilities to communicate and only allows them to speak from a list of “healthy words” (Ma 159). The story presents many overwhelming comparisons and metaphors between normal elements of this society and the American experience during the COVID-19 pandemic. The lack of connection and communication with others weighs heavily on the protagonist, Arvardan, who spends his days alone, working on coding projects. In many respects, this dystopian society is like a reality we experienced through its depiction of elements of quarantine, and its reflection of life as a college student during COVID, which seemingly suggests this situation might revisit us in the future.
One of the first and most noticeable similarities between “The City of Silence” and the reality of early quarantine is the fact that the people would rarely go outside. The appropriate authorities “did not recommend too many outdoor activities, as they caused people to make physical contact with one another, and what happened after that was difficult to control” (Ma 161). The government in this dystopian society is authoritative and controls its citizens in every way possible, to the point where people are expected not to go outside unless necessary. In the early COVID-state, the main message from the US government was similar: limit activity and contact with other people, wear your face mask, and keep a six-foot distance to limit the spread of the virus. Though when describing the nature of the situation, the narrator states, “The Capital’s streets had few pedestrians. Now that the Web was everywhere, most chores could be done there. Unlike the primitive past, people no longer needed to go outside the home for the necessities of daily life” (Ma 161). It is interesting to note that this dystopia is set in 2046, and yet, the idea of going outside for daily necessities is considered “primitive” or ancient. The same can be said of our attitudes today. Looking back, it seems like an eternity ago that things were “normal.” At the unexpected shift to remote learning for students and working from home for non-essential workers, we learned that most things from our day-to-day lives can be done in an online format. For example, many college students find it much more convenient to roll out of bed 10 minutes before their Zoom class starts, rather than to wake up early and walk a mile to an in-person class. Only time will tell if we maintain and incorporate the notion that it’s not crucial to leave the house for everyday necessities into everyday society. The bigger question of whether future governments will implement familiar control tactics experienced throughout the pandemic also arises.
The conveniences of everything being accessible without ever leaving home have drawbacks. Arvardan finds it difficult to focus on his work tasks: “He tried to continue the work left over from yesterday, but soon felt he couldn’t concentrate. He tried to entertain himself but the ENTERTAINMENT link only contained Solitaire and Minesweeper” (Ma 158). It is easy for Arvardan to get distracted, even with limited access to entertainment sources. Being isolated has its effects on individuals’ mental states, and Arvardan has developed a short attention span. Similarly, a challenge for many students has been that their home environment is completely different from their environment on a regular school day. On-campus at BU during fall 2020, it was challenging to find places to focus with limited options of dorm rooms, the library during reduced hours, and outside before the weather got cold. Procrastination quickly sets in when distractions like Netflix and social media apps are so easily available and there is no way to differentiate time in your room between study time and relaxing time. If future governments were to enact similar isolation policies, it would make it difficult to focus on tasks. On top of that lack of engagement and mental slowdown, it’s hard to be productive when the weather is dreary outside.
On any given day, it is fairly easy to want to stay inside and be lazy. Lousy weather intensifies that feeling. The gloomy weather in the society of The Capital, March 2020 in New England, and the winter season in Boston is an accurate representation of the grim state of the world. As Arvardan is getting ready for an appointment at the government office, the narrator describes how “[i]t was November, and the icy wind drove clouds across a leaden, oppressive sky” (Ma 162). The narrator is effective in creating an image of the setting in the reader’s mind and placing the reader into the world that seems so bleak. Sunlight, color, joy, laughter, among other positives of life, are all absent, which makes the reader feel sympathy for Arvardan’s existence in this world, though the reader doesn’t know the reason for the bad weather, besides the air being hard to breathe. My lockdown experience at home in Connecticut was similar to Arvardan’s situation because the weather had not turned. It was cold and grey outside making productivity feel impossible. When we’re in our normal routines, minutia like weather goes unnoticed. But when nothing was going on in our lives, the day-to-day dreary weather was something to pay attention to and notice. In the future, climate change issues may pose threats of adding the same layer of complexity to our society as in “The City of Silence.”
In both situations, Arvardan and the majority of America spent time at home struggling to be productive and craving social interaction. Unable to see friends, classmates, and teachers in person is a socially isolating experience. FaceTime calls and Zooms just don’t compare, though they seem like a luxury compared to Arvardan’s situation where he isn’t able to talk to anyone at all. That comparison makes the social aspect of lockdown and quarantine seem like it could have been worse. Arvardan longs to engage with people, which we learn through hearing his inner thoughts as he’s having a phone conversation with an electronic voice setting up his appointment. The narrator shares, “Sometimes he thought, wouldn’t it be nice if the voice on the phone belonged to a real woman, smooth and mellow?” (Ma 156). Arvardan’s inner thoughts are like the craving of human connection many of us experienced in quarantine though most people felt that the social constraints of quarantine were only temporary. People found ways of engaging such as using Netflix Party to watch movies with friends or socially distant outside events with family. Luckily though, both situations changed and got away from the “primitive past.” Arvardan found company in the secret society of “The Talking Club.” The group drastically improved his outlook on life and gave him a sense of connection that he longed for. As quarantine restrictions loosened, we began to see friends and colleagues socially distantly, and once again were able to gather on campus at BU. In both cases, transitioning from isolation to semi-normal social interaction revealed truly how difficult the experience was.
Many elements in Ma Boyong’s “City of Silence” dystopia reflect the world we were thrown into by the coronavirus pandemic. People were rarely able to get out of their houses for months, and daily necessities and responsibilities transformed into online platforms. Being home, however, often created distractions. The gloomy scenery made it difficult to be productive and the lack of social interaction weighed heavily on people. These societal elements made life challenging for citizens, especially college students, as well as for Arvardan. In Jill Lepore’s New Yorker article “A Golden Age for Dystopian Fiction,” she says that “a utopia is a paradise, a dystopia a paradise lost.” Her statement is a fair representation of my first year of college here at BU. It feels like a paradise that I’ve long awaited but not being able to attend a business lecture or a hockey game is dystopian. Instead of returning to our “primitive past,” we’re adapting to the constraints of our new reality, and making the best out of an unfortunate situation. I have enjoyed and embraced the opportunity to be on campus, attending a few in-person classes a week, meeting new people, and exploring Boston, but it is strange to think that this narrative makes it seem that it is within the realm of possibility for elements of lockdown to recur at another point in our lives. It just may not come in the form of another worldwide pandemic, but through an oppressive government looking to find ways to control its citizens. We have adapted to a way of life that most could have never imagined and its impacts will, undoubtedly, be long-lasting in whatever form they take on next.
Works Cited
Lepore, Jill, et al. “A Golden Age for Dystopian Fiction.” The New Yorker, 29 May 2017, www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/06/05/a-golden-age-for-dystopian-fiction.
Ma, Boyong. “City of Silence.” Invisible Planets, edited by Ken Liu, Tom Doherty Associates, 2016, 155-196.
Gillian McMahon is a current sophomore from Niantic, Connecticut studying finance and information systems in the Questrom School of Business at Boston University. She took Professor Martinez’s WR120: Brave New Worlds during the fall 2020 semester.