Nicholas Perez's Reviews > Wild Seed

4/5 stars.

Before I go into my review, I want to make a note of something. There are two ways to read Octavia E. Butler's Patternist series: the order in which it was published--Patternmaster (1976), Mind of My Mind (1977), Survivor (1978, disowned and never put back into publication), Wild Seed (1980), and Clay's Ark (1984); or the chronological order of the in-universe story--Wild Seed (set in the 1600s and 1700s), Mind of My Mind (set in the 70s, contemporary for when Butler wrote it), Clay' Arks (set in a futuristic dystopia), Survivor (set in space and on another planet), and Patternmaster (very far future where humanity is divided). I have chosen to read it in the chronological order at the advice of a friend and because I prefer to read it that way.

Wild Seed, as shown above, is the earliest part of the series. It follows Anyanwu, an immortal Igbo woman who can shapeshift her body into anything she can take into, or cannibalize into, her body, and Doro, an ancient Kush man (what is now North and South Sudan) who can transfer his soul or essence into the body of any person of any gender and any race who is also immortal. Doro is gifted with telepathic powers and has for centuries sired offspring and charted out his own descendants and even bred with said descendants. When he finds Anyanwu, he takes her with him to America, promising to never hurt her children and her own descendants. But Doro is a powerful man who can intimidate anyone, and he rarely keeps his promises.

This was a great introduction to Butler's work. It isn't perfect, but it's pretty darn good. Much like Frank Herbert's Dune, Butler employs an omniscient third-person to tell the story. I think it was appropriate to use in order to get into both Anyanwu and Doro's heads and emotions. However, it did sometimes lead to telling and not showing and there were some moments where the narrative was interrupted but a brief info dump of a certain character or event from some time prior to the current narrative; albeit this only happened more toward the end of the book.

I was ultimately compelled by both Anyanwu and Doro's stories and actions to keep reading. Anyanwy just wants a family and peace. She constantly struggled against the world around her to live this constantly escaping dream. She only fought when she really had to; she resisted this constantly but would have to end up fighting or fleeing in order to get what she wanted. Doro, on the other hand, was quite the villain. His entire breeding plan is pure eugenics, but it's amazing in its own twisted, messed-up way. He seeks to create more psionic descendants like him, searching for those closest like him and weeding out those with weaker or no abilities. The intimidation and fear he puts into people by merely just standing there shows just how dominating he is. Anyone he didn't need he would let them die off in one way or another or he would take over their bodies and then transfer to another one to let them die. Anyanwu prevents many of his attempts to do this, telling him he can't rule his own place or family by violent force.

This dual relationship between Anyanwu and Doro shows, at first, a common divide often shown in early sci-fi works. The male character is cold and terrifying and rules through force, and the female one is passive and nurturing and cares for others. Butler brilliant shows the gradual eroding of this dualism, or at least the beginnings of it. While Anyanwu is still generally sympathetic and compassionate to others and Doro still domineering, the stereotypical and resolute roles and personalities they fill become undone. Anyanwu realizes she can't always stay and be compassionate to defend herself and her loved ones and family. Doro realizes that the more he rules through fear the more his children and descendants will resist him and defect to Anyanwu; and he does--somewhat--become more compassionate towards the end of the book, though he still wants to control Anyanwu. Doro still represents patriarchal power, obviously, and is much more intimidating then some of Anyanwu's first Igbo husbands, however he seems to show how patriarchal power can mold to rise of culture. Anyanwu, with her constantly changing body, represented how the boundaries between culture and nature can blur and how humans are intrinsically apart of both.

It was this vie for control, this endless chase between Anyanwu and Doro, that fueled everything in the story. Both of them can change their bodies, thus transcending race and gender, but at the heart of themselves both Anyanwu and Doro are two, immortal Africans who struggle for their own freedoms. Their freedoms from not only what is going on their world at the time, but from each other as well. They are both repelled and drawn to each other in an endless dance for agency and a future for their descendants.

There were other characters I enjoyed, such as Isaac, one of Anyanwu's most beloved husbands. I was saddened by his death. He along with other members of Anyanwu and Doro's families were meant to be mirrors of their relationship and the fallout it caused. Anyanwu and Doro are like Afrocentric, super-powered, alternative versions of Adam and Eve; this is the genesis of their story and the story of their descendants and how the initial interactions and actions--their original sins, if you will--become a consequence for the future to come.

If there was anything I frustrated about, despite my praise of this book, was Anyanwu's continued ability to give Doro another chance. I understand this was apart of her nature and arc to seem sympathetic, but after everything horrible Doro did it just got more frustrating.

Overall, I can't wait to continue this series to see what happens to the rest of the world and Anyanwu and Doro's descendants.