Power in Simplicity

 While reading The Invention of Morel, what struck me right away was the extraordinary lengths to which the main character was willing to go in order to avoid the truth of his situation. As the story progresses, he forces himself to invent more and more elaborate explanations for the presence of the visitors (and for their disappearance) rather than accept that something strange and unnatural is going on. It is only when he sees the simplest solution does he gain understanding of and learn to control the situation.
 When the visitors first arrive on the island, the main character’s reaction is one of reasonable puzzlement and caution. Considering his status as a fugitive, his decision to “build some sort of shelter to hide in” (12) seems reasonable. It even seems somewhat reasonable to believe that Faustine did not see him on their first meeting. As he tries harder and harder to get her to notice him, however, it should become increasingly clear that something else is going on. He never even considers that Faustine and, later, Morel cannot see him, but rather assumes they are trying to torment him. He becomes convinced of this when he jumps out of the bushes and makes a dumb joke about Morel being a “bearded woman,” only to be ignored entirely. Not even when he manages to run between two of the visitors on his way out a window, somehow without being seen, does he grow suspicious; instead, he assumes they are laying some elaborate trap for him, or playing an enormously complicated trick on him. As evidence that the people on the island either cannot see him or are not really there mounts, he must work harder and harder to discount it. He never once tests if the visitors can see him, perhaps because he does not want to know the answer. He only discovers the truth when he reads Morel’s papers on the subject. When he discovers the simplest explanation, the truth, he is able to control the situation to his advantage, eventually discovering a way to be with Faustine. It is through simplicity that he gains strength.
 Another example of this would be the episode with the generator toward the end of the book. He goes again into the blue generator room, and, while transfixed by the machinery, the hole in the wall behind him seems to repair itself. Bearing in mind that at this point in the story, the main character knows about the machines and what they do, he should be able to figure out what happened. He instead immediately assumes that a mason had mysteriously appeared on the deserted island and patched the wall without him noticing. He even attempts to tear the wall down, despite its apparent invulnerability and self-healing properties. He continues rationalizing the normal well beyond the point of logic. Even after he discovers the truth of what happened, he is initially powerless to do anything about it. Finally, he takes the simplest solution; “I disconnected them. I went outside” (91). In his own words “finally my fear of death freed me from the irrational belief that I was incompetent” (91). When he gained understanding he was able to find the simplest solution, and when he discovered the simplest solution he was able to gain power over his situation.
 This recurring theme in Morel is, I feel, one of Casares’s points in writing it. It is, in a way, a restatement of the old adage “knowledge is power,” but with a new twist. Simplicity stemming from knowledge is what ultimately allows the main character, the fugitive, to free himself from the life he found “so unbearable” (10) while simultaneously preserving a record of him at his happiest for all time. Through simplicity he gains the power to do the impossible, in this case, to live forever with someone who is dead. Perhaps the novel asks us to search for the power of the simple, to avoid overcomplicating out lives to the point that we lose our control. Is it possible that the great truths in life are not difficult to understand due to their complexity, but rather their simplicity? That enlightenment is not the product of thought, but rather the absence thereof? I often hear people wish for a more simple life, but they ironically are willing to go through complex gyrations in order to obtain it; quitting their job and moving to the Caribbean, for example. In order to gain control of our surroundings, Casares tells us to strip away the layers of complexity to reveal the plain, simple core. He asks us to disconnect the machines, to go outside.