Little Eyes

Give someone or let someone operate a “kentucki” and you open a Pandora's box. This is the contention behind Schweblin's genius of a novel. It is both original and highly disturbing. Similar to Atwood, everything about which Schweblin writes finds its precedent in modern society. A kentucki is a new toy that starts appearing globally, a cross between a computer and a pet. You're either a keeper (the owner), or a dweller (the person with the ability to operate the device remotely). With this context, it is immediately evident how Little Eyes holds a mirror up to society; even if you do not realise it, the world is interconnected to the extent that public and private spheres can all too dangerously merge. The logic of privacy stands in conflict with the idea of having a presence and being part of a bigger community. Solitude means less without identity. However, digital shadows leave traces and have consequences, both physically and mentally, intentionally and unintentionally. Reading Little Eyes is like watching a grotesque car crash. It is inherently compelling. Admiration (in almost every vignette described by Schweblin) soon turns to disgust. While Schweblin appears conscious not to take sides, her point seems to be that there are limits to technology and by implication a fully globalised society. Each overlapping story (all beautifully rendered and translated) combines poignancy and shock. Rare to say, but a truly memorable work that is open to endless interpretation and could find its way onto academic syllabuses. 10 out of 10.

By Samantha Schweblin