What I immediately noticed about Colson Whitehead’s Zone One is his use of kairotic time similar to what we had read in “The Albertine Notes”. However, unlike “The Albertine Notes,” the use of kairotic time is easier to follow in Zone One. There is no concept of chronological time in “The Albertine Notes”; instead days are marked by events such as before Albertine or after the blast. In Zone One, events still play a big role in marking time, but there is still a sense of chronology. Whitehead emphasizes the before and after by adding a sense of nostalgia of New York pre-apocalypse.
Tag Archives: Colson Whitehead
Zone One: All Places At Once
Reading Colson Whitehead’s Zone One, I was reminded most of one reading in particular – Rick Mood’s The Albertine Notes. As Colby mentions in her post, I too found myself getting lost amongst the time in Mark Spitz’s world because he so often slips from pre-Last Day to post-Last Day.
What stuck out to me the most was the relationship, if I can call it that, between Mark Spitz and the skels. On one hand, there was this desire to recognize their humanness, and in a sense it is completely unavoidable. There is the fact that he sees skels and automatically associates them with people he “knew;” his desire to leave “Ned the copy boy” alone; his noticing of thongs – all of these things show that, in this knew world ruled by military organization and tactical emotion-quelling, he struggles to reconcile the pre-Last Day with this “new” world.
I did also love the fact that Whitehead doesn’t allow for this novel to become a hack-‘n’-slash, Zombie-hating kind of story, which I feel it easily could have. He instead ties in elements, like Mark Spitz’s emotionalism, that allow for the reader to feel, and notice, moments of connect and disconnect. There is the fact that PTSD becomes PASD, and that all of the sweepers are heavily aware that their jobs are both allowing some closer and completely screwing up their psychological relations to the dead, the Apocalypse, and their place in this new world.
Lastly, the language in Whitehead’s book is so concise and crisp, which I think fits the processing one’s mind would go through in the new world. One would focus and process things in terms of essential-ness: “What is the essential knowledge about what I am doing? What memories? What thoughts?” in a way that one can easily be thrown off track, but also make associations. I found this interpretation (as someone who tends to dislike both violence and zombies in entertainment) much more rewarding than the more violent, kill-em-dead types of entertainment that often utilize military ethics, control, and violence in regards to zombies and the Apocalypse.
The Zombie Fixation and Zone One
From day one in our class, the buzz about zombies has been present and persisted, despite the vast majority of our material not being zombie-related. Being a fan of zombies myself, I’ve always wondered what it was about them–and the prospect of a zombie apocalypse–that draws so many of us in. Reading Colson Whitehead’s Zone One, I felt he highlighted something about zombies that I had never picked up one: wish fulfillment.
In a scene towards the beginning of the book, when Mark encounters four zombies that had been cooped up in the break room of a legal office, he muses about being an angel of death with a chilling amount of glee. From that passage, it was clear that a part of Mark enjoyed participating in the apocalypse’s carnage. That’s when it hit me:
On some level, we’d all love to go on a killing spree.
We’re all imbued with that primal energy–that Freudian Id–which gives us a capacity for violence. These thoughts are curbed by our learning and internalizing of societal rules (like don’t murder people). Both of these attributes make sense in an evolutionary sense: those that were strongest and best at fighting got to pass on more of their genes over the course of many generations, and likewise those that could cooperate effectively also succeeded in dominating the gene pool. A zombie apocalypse lets us toss off our societal shackles and appease our violent impulses without having to deal with the moral hangups that accompany murder. Zombie apocalypse scenarios are–purely and simply–guiltless indulgences of our primal predisposition to violence.
