The author of Galatea 2.2, Richard Powers,
says, “We may live our lives, but the tale we tell takes its shape
from the life we are limited to.” Variations of this statement
reoccur several times throughout the course of the
novel in which the main character, also Richard Powers, finds himself
struggling with his life, wanting a second
chance at his tale. He strives to find out whether or not his career
as a writer is purposeful and substantial in his old college town of U.
Reflecting on his life while there, he states, “On second reading, everything
seemed different. I’d forgotten all the good bits, the scene swellers
and interstices, the supporting characters and exotic locales, there for
no reason but density and flavor. I wasn’t the genre I’d thought
I was.” The opportunity to retell his story presents itself in a most unlikely
form, that of a neural net. Though Powers eventually regains confidence
and motivation in his abilities through Helen, it seems as if he reaches
this point without learning several vital lessons. In the novel,
Powers’ character neglects to learn from a problematic relationship in
his past, and has a tendency to “play God” in relationships. The latter
appears to intensify with his training of Helen. These two things
can make his excitement at beginning the next chapter of his life somewhat
bittersweet.
Powers’ relationship with C. should have
served as a lesson and should have given him insight into his life.
Many realizations came to him long after he and C. had parted, but
he also recognized several problems while they were together and failed
to make an attempt to resolve them. He evaluated his choices and mannerisms
in the relationship, but neglected to act on his assessments. He made a
habit of avoiding C.’s questions such as, “Do I seem different?”
C.’s questions and outbursts served as her cry for help, her way of pleading
with Powers to tell
her why they were not as happy as they once were. When he
answered her in terse, simplistic words, it was as if he was telling her
that their relationship did not deserve his effort or articulate thoughts,
which were reserved for his novels. This seems strange because Powers’
thoughts suggest that he wanted the relationship to last; in reference
to their communication, he later reflected, “Had I served her more meat,
she might have never left home.” However, during their relationship
he made no effort to stabilize the waning conditions. He eventually
came to the dim realizations that, “You can live with a person your entire
life and still see them as a reflection of your own needs,” and, “no one
really knows another.” This outlook on relationships is probably
one of the reasons for the absurdness of his next intimate connections.
Since Powers believed that he could never truly
know a person and could go on seeing someone as a reflection of his own
needs, even for a lifetime, it makes sense that he would decide to fabricate
a person to become involved with. This is essentially what he did
in his involvement with A., and somewhat in his relationship with Helen.
Though Powers’ connection with Helen is unique, it can be seen as a relationship;
he experienced a growing infatuation for her and treated her in a manner
similar to the one he reserved for everyone else in his life. It
even seems as if he put as much trust and confidence in her as in any human
being. Powers formulated Helen’s tale from bits and pieces of his
own, along with selected literature. He told her tales of how, as
a boy, he, “often played at saving plastic farm animals from a worldwide
flood,” and he taught her about love through his and C.’s letters.
By doing this, he was able to retell his own story through her. In
his relationship with A., he did not even consider using his gained insight
from his involvement with C. to improve his situation. He appeared
to use A. only as a face for his ideal woman and muse. It is disturbing
that he knew what he was doing; he even stated, “I knew I’d invented her.”
His knowledge of his preposterous actions makes them seem even worse.
A. did not want to be someone that she was not to Powers and told him,
“I have a life already…someone for whom - I’m more than a theory.”
Powers appears reserved and even meek in many
instances throughout the novel. He prefers the solitude of his office
to the company of others, and seems most content when reminiscing about
his literary past with Helen.
Powers may appear and oftentimes be passive, but he also seems to
have a need for control in his relationships.
This is most apparent in his unique relationship with Helen.
He gives the impression that he enjoys being the one
who shapes her “life” by deciding what she will or will not learn
and by turning her on and off when he pleases. His constant, underlying
thought of “That’s my baby,” even made itself audible on one or two occasions.
He sees
himself as her creator and even shows her off on several occasions,
just as a proud father would. He enjoys and
thrives on her dependence on him. Powers grows more and more
obsessive with his “playing God” as Helen
continues in her learning. He became frantic when Lentz mentioned
a “severance” of Helen that “could be
effected with a great deal of local selectivity.” He pleaded
senselessly with Diana and Harold to sway Lentz’
decision. He ultimately succeeded, but not without first making
it obvious how terrified he was of losing something that he had a complete
sense of control over. Powers’ desire for control can be found in
his relationships with C. and A. as well. The more care he took of
C. the more he “turned her into the needy one,” and the more he did that
“the needier she became.” He “had loved C. wrongly for her helplessness.”
Her helplessness gave him a sense of control, but resulted in an unsuccessful
relationship. Powers’ had complete charge of his relationship with
A., because, to him, she existed as the person he had made her. This
is probably why he found so much happiness with the thought of her; he
could make her act and say as he pleased in the many scenes he played out
in his mind while he “imagined a whole day around her.”
Galatea 2.2 is filled with examples of failed
and strained relationships, but it seems as if Richard Powers
contributes more than his share. Powers would probably describe
relationships in the same way that he describes
mnemonics. He thought, “The problem with mnemonics is that
they fail almost by definition. If they aren’t
memorable enough they’re just extra baggage. If too memorable,
they upstage the thing they index. Ten years on, all you remember
is the pointer.” His tumultuous relationship with C. was caught somewhere
between being too memorable and not being memorable enough; it affected
the rest of his future relationships. The cause of his
ignorance of learned mistakes is most likely Powers’ tendency to
“play God,” because he needs to feel as if he is in control. Helen
helps Powers change from “working from nothing but desire to fulfill a
contract,” to realizing that he “could love more than once,” and that he
might have another fiction in him after all. By telling Helen his
story and giving her “life,” she, in turn, gave him a new tale, but Powers’
new found excitement is darkened by his
negligence to realize several of his previous mistakes. Though
there will undoubtedly be more of “the mess that
accumulates” during the rest of his life, no matter the circumstances,
he would probably have less to deal with if he had learned from some of
his previous mistakes. |