from the bookshelf: parable of the sower

*Disclaimer - spoilers ahead!*

One of my 2025 resolutions is to get back into my reading groove – I actually started gaining momentum mid-last year and was able to finish 10 books, but this year I’m on a mission to read at least one book a month.

A big proponent of helping me achieve this goal is through book club - having a community of my peers that are open to exploring genres and engaging in thoughtful discussions takes a bit of the edge off feeling like reading is a chore. Which is crazy thinking back to 8yr old me who didn’t go anywhere without a book and was constantly scolded for reading in the dark, because a lack of light couldn’t stop me from finishing a page-turner (I do indeed have reading glasses now due to this).

January’s book club pick was Parable of the Sower , the 1993 “dystopian” novel by Octavia Butler. And I use dystopian as somewhat subjective because the book is based beginning in 2025 – eerie, right? The novel follows the story of Lauren Olamina, a young woman with hyper-empathy syndrome, who grows up in a lower middle-class community after the world has been devastated by climate change, wealth and social inequality, and naturally, corporate injustice and drugs.

The book was suggested by one of our members in the wake of the presidential election - quite literally the day after, in fact. As a group made up primarily of Black women, we all grappled with our individual emotions, fears, and exhaustion after the election results, and as for myself, filled with a dread of the looming consequences that would unfold. So when the book was suggested, there was a resounding “yes” both heard and felt among many of us.

I knew little about the book but had heard of the literary genius that is Octavia Butler and was familiar with her style of writing. I started the book later than a few others and once I heard sentiments of “doom and gloom”, anxiety, and one person’s inclination to play gospel after reading, my interest was immediately piqued. I’m not one to shy away from dark storylines so I opened the book with intrigue and a little bit of anxious excitement. Safe to say, my expectations were met.

While I could probably write a book about this book, it really is one of those that you just have to read for yourself. To me, this reads as one of those novels you have to pick up a couple of times to fully grasp all the complexities of the world Butler delves into, and I’m sure no two people’s interpretation is the same. But for the purposes of a book review, I’m going to keep it brief (ish).

The most prevalent themes and lessons throughout the book were wealth and social inequality. From the beginning, Lauren immediately makes the distinction between her community, which is walled, and the street poor. To those outside the walls, Lauren and her family have everything - homes, resources, food. But as the book goes on, we begin to see how unfortunate even they are. The only true winners in the book are corporate entities and the rich, who can afford to buy up poor communities and exploit those looking for a better life into indentured servants. The American Dream.

It’s actually crazy how even though the book is set in the future, in the wake of all the destruction, the world reverts to the past with basically all of the worst things that have happened in history cooked up into 300 pages. People are literally escaping slavery in the book and almost no one knows how to read or write. Pharmaceutical companies have released a drug that is causing people to set fires to homes. Scavengers are raiding, raping, and enacting violence on anyone in their path. Corruption runs rampant and trust is found far and few.

“Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is in an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob, and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.” - Frederick Douglass

Even as I’m writing this, I’ve just finished reading about the California fires and how insurance companies canceled policies, and companies are attempting to buy up cheap land – exactly as happened in the book. The parallels between the flaming Robledo in POTS and current reality is uncanny and unnerving.

I did love how Butler shined a light on all the various ways that wealth and social inequality come to the forefront when the world is at its worst – the rich get richer, and the poor get poorer. A tale as old as time. People who could afford to take care of themselves pulled together the little that they could to form protective communities, but as jobs became scarcer and money started to whittle away, many were forced to rely on pennies from large corporations for a sense of security and hopes of starting over.

Another concept I enjoyed was Butler’s ability to weave in racial undertonesthroughout the book, as “people are expected to fear and hate everyone but their own kind.” Even in Lauren’s community, there’s a division felt among the white, hispanic and black families, and they’re slow to trust each other. The runaway slaves that Lauren and her friends come across outside of the walls are a blast from the past (or should I say future?), showing how poor and marginalized communities are taken advantage of and modern slavery takes on a new form.

One of the more difficult portions of the book for me was the gender inequaliyy and suffering women went through, portrayed through rape, marital slavery, sexual slavery and more. It was hard to digest the accounts of women being assaulted and degraded at any given point, simply for existing. Yet in a world where women’s rights are being repealed and stripped away before our very eyes, it’s not too hard to imagine a reality where these tragedies are inflicted with little to no intervention. It was enough to make me put down the book at times and emotionally regroup, but at the same time I felt compelled to absorb everything at its worst because these are still narratives Butler wanted us to comprehend.

As jarring as the book was at points, I almost heeded it as a warning. We see the eye opening consequences of how far people will go when they have nothing left to lose, and how far people will go when they have everything to lose. In its totality, the book heavily relies on fire symbolism and the necessity of destruction for rebirth. Call me a cynic, but if this is where our society is headed, how many Lauren’s will it take for us to climb out of the ashes? And when we do, what will be left?