The Harbinger: Fable or Philosophy?

Before I began writing my review of The Harbinger by Jonathan Cahn, I researched other reviews and got a surprise. I found several sources analyzing the accuracy of Cahn’s proposed Isaiah 9:10 Effect and criticizing Cahn’s argument that it applies to modern-day America as much as it did to ancient Israel. I also found reviewers who praised the book as a wake-up call for America. So I asked myself, “Why are the reviews so extreme?” Ordinarily we might expect a small variation of opinion about a book; it’s okay or it’s good. Maybe a one-star difference in overall rating. But these responses are radically different, more passionately argued with long statements about inaccuracies of facts and quality of argument. So I questioned whether I had read a philosophical argument or …what?

I went back to the beginning of the book to search for clues. Prior to the table of contents of The Harbinger, Cahn tells us that what we are about to read is a story which contains real information. I was instantly reminded of Aesop’s Fables. Even though each fable is make-believe, the morality associated with the fable is real. So we accept these morality tales, even though they contain talking animals, simply because they are teaching us something about real life. Who can forget that the tortoise’s slow, steady progress allows him to win a race with an overly confident, very fast hare? So if The Harbinger is a modern-day fable, why are so many reviewers complaining about argument quality and fact accuracy?

Perhaps the answer is in the presentation. Cahn formats the story as a Socratic argument: a dialogue about a philosophical idea. The main character, Nouriel Kaplan, relays his story – through dialogue - to a well-known, yet unnamed news reporter. Within Kaplan’s story is another story - also told totally in the dialogue between Kaplan and the Prophet – about how he anonymously receives an ancient seal with Paleo-Hebrew inscriptions and begins a quest to unravel its mystery. The set-up is good for a philosophical argument and yet Cahn doesn’t use it in that manner. Kaplan parrots everything the Prophet says and, likewise, the Reporter recaps everything Kaplan says. There is no opposing point of view and no argument ensues to persuade the reader that what is being said is either accurate or right. As a Socratic argument, the book falls far short of the mark. However, The Harbinger is NOT a philosophical argument. That’s not the purpose of the dialogue or the story within story use of repetition.

The purpose of the duel dialogues is so the information about the nine harbingers and their relationship between the downfall of ancient Israel and post-9/11 America can be repeated numerous times. As an educator, I know that most people must hear something at least five times before they remember it. Well, Cahn is using repetition of key information so the majority of readers will internalize it. It is the morality of the story that is the theme, NOT the correctness of his supposition. It is the warning that America is morally off-track and, as such, at risk of further humiliation, violence and defeat.

I gave The Harbinger a five-star, two-thumbs-up, must-read book based on perceiving it as a fable, a twenty-first century morality tale drawing parallels between ancient Israel’s pride with its fall and America’s arrogance prior to and since the terrorists acts of 9/11 with our possible future demise. Not unlike the warning in Proverbs 16:18 about pride going before a fall or Aesop’s arrogant hare losing the race to tortoise. But I’ve just skimmed the information in the book, which draws logical conclusions from compelling historical events... allowing for some flexibility. Don’t take my word for it. Read it and be enlightened. Read it and weep. Read it and change your own moral standing…and possibly our nation’s overall morality. The choice is yours. Just read it and draw your own conclusions.

Acceptance: Sometimes Difficult to Accept

Jeff Vandermeer’s Acceptance completes the Southern Reach Trilogy with detailed descriptions and complex sentences, sucking us into a world that’s changing. Here is where we expect answers, demand resolutions to the why those changes occur and what will happen to the major characters: the Biologist, Control, the Lighthouse Keeper, the Psychologist, and her assistant, Grace. Yet here is where we find true changes; changes in perspective on the landscapes of Area X, and changes in point of view.

The first book, Annihilation, is written from the first-person point of view of the Biologist on the twelfth expedition into Area X. Authority, the second book, is written from the limited third-person point of view of Control as he struggles in his new position as Director of Southern Reach. As changes have occurred within Area X, the border expanding, the wildlife being absorbed and mutated, so do changes in perspective occur within the book. Acceptance includes multiple points of view: the Biologist’s first-person perspective AND the third-person limited from Control’s eyes.  Acceptance adds the third-person point of view through the Lighthouse Keeper and we see the Psychologist’s childhood in ground zero of Area X and learn about the strange Science and Séance Brigade through his eyes. But the changes don’t stop there. A second-person point of view is added which observes the Psychologist prior to the twelfth expedition. The unknown voice speaks directly to the Psychologist and we have to wonder who this new speaker is?  We can only assume it is the voice of Area X’s creator, but this is never confirmed. This whole jumping back and forth between different types of viewpoints creates a feeling of unease in the reader and pulls you into the chaos and confusion of those expedition members who came back from Area X different, changed, damage psychologically and physically so that they died in less than a year. All accept for Lowry, who continues his deranged pursuit of conquering Area X from the safe distance of Central…or is it a controlled lab so his own changes can be easily observed?

                The affect is unnerving as we scramble over these changes in point of view, changes in Area X and changes in us, because of the answers we are compelled to seek. Like Control, who clutches Whitby’s terroir report, we seek answers to our questions: Who or what is behind the changes in Area X? What does it mean for humanity? But like the Lighthouse Keeper’s father told him, “Once the questions snuck in, whatever had been certain became uncertain. Questions opened the way for doubt.” So we follow the Lighthouse Keeper into the cryptic world of Area X as it impregnates Earth with – we know not what - and are only partially satisfied with the answers.

                Answers, like candy, often leave us with more questions, and though this is true in the world of Jeff Vandermeer’s Acceptance, it is perhaps the most original dystopian I have read in a long time. The writing style, the characters and the plot are compelling and definitely worth the read!