The Employees
I can look out a window and notice that the sunrise is beautiful. I can glance upon the persistent evergreen, take in its incomparable scent, and know there is none like it. I can look out upon the dunes and begin to feel my smallness in comparison to nature’s greatness. Anyone can look out upon an ocean and feel the vastness of it all. I am filled with gratitude for the extraordinary. However, what about the mundane? Where does it fit into all this? What about the delight and spirituality in objects? These were the questions that I believe Olga Ravn was trying to address in her breaking novel, The Employees. How does she manage to take me into a place of beauty in nothing but an item? How does the feeling of diminution rise in my chest and feel empathy for an article sitting on a table? The ambiguous premonition is introduced from the beginning. Already, the readers are embraced with a sense of the unknown. With no clear vision of a protagonist or antagonist. we are already asking questions in the first few pages. Also, Ravn introduces us to a setting and an atmosphere that is also foreign to us, written purely in prose. It takes place in a world that no one in the 21st century could relate to. It creates a natural sense of wonder in us, as humans, to want to know what it’s like to fit into these character’s shoes. Finally, the world in which this novel takes place consists of humanoids (created) and humans (born) and the questions of what it means to be born of flesh. It addresses the questions of what it means to feel and the desperation of wanting to know what it is like to experience human emotion. How can we find the beauty in that? How can we find unexplainable beauty and peace in the things we don’t know about? How do we find the extraordinary in the seemingly monotonous daily life? The Employees takes us through many doors that have no idea where they lead. The readers just follow along as the story connects. We keep walking through the doors of Olga Ravn’s mind.
The Employees takes place on an interstellar Six Thousand Ship. The crew members working on this ship contain two categories of people, the “humanoids” (which were created) and the “humans” (which were born). The structure of the novel is written in short statements. These statements are from the crew members, expressing their innermost complaints and praises about their tasks aboard the Six Thousand Ship. Many of the statements mention a room with multiple objects sitting on tables and how they feel intertwined with them somehow. One of the very first doors we walk through is the enigma. From the beginning, we aren’t introduced to any specific main character. There are barely any given names in the entirety of the book. No protagonist and no antagonist. We are left with our imagination on who’s speaking, their gender, what they look like, and their relationship with humanoid leaders. You also have to keep in mind that the “chapters” are also not significant in length. With each individual, we are being wrapped in prose, trying to decipher each “human” or “humanoid” feeling toward the objects, their role on the ship, where they came from, why they are there, what they are feeling, etc. I feel like this mystery and ambiguity is a brilliant way to not only want us to keep reading, but it draws us into how the objects are affecting relationships, and even in some cases, making the “humanoids” question their existence. There is power and spirit in these objects and it’s unexplainable.
The second door that we walk through is the writing style. The prose is intentional. Ravn chose to introduce us to this world in short sections of almost poetry. She grabbed our human empathy and put it in a situation of humanoids that don’t understand it. It made me feel deeply for these obscure characters that begin to feel confused. They begin to disengage in what the leaders want them to do and they question their purpose. Until they engage with the objects in the room. The objects seem to be otherworldly. Something supernatural. The statements explain that when stare at the objects, they gain an unexplainable peace and happiness. It’s just a simple object. In the minds of the humanoids, these engage their sense of touch and sight. Items that they have never before seen. It engages them. In the mindset of humans, they can engage with things that they once saw on earth and don’t get to experience anymore. The objects give them a yearning. A heart. A reminder. A conviction of why they felt like they had to leave. I don’t believe this yearning could’ve been captured as successfully if written any other way. It had to be prose. You fall in love with each statement and have no idea what their name is. You walk through the door and have no idea where it leads.
One of the final doors is the beauty of human emotion. What it means to feel so deeply about something. Heartbreak. Longing. Confusion. The objects bring a sense of self to the “humanoids”, and they have no idea what to do about it other than to feel and think. Many “humanoid” statements fall short and don’t grasp the full intentionality and beauty of the objects. They stick to their duties faithfully. However, as the readers become more familiar with these objects in the special room, the “humanoids” also come along that journey with us. Many of them express how they think they are denying their duties and their mission because they are dreaming about things they haven’t dreamed about before. The dream of emotion. Of escape. The dream of being born again. What it means to be truly alive. We begin to see the “humanoids” attacking and manipulating the system because they are experiencing such deep longing for a different life. We watch as the “humans” question why they left Earth. We experience with them their memories. We experience with them the definition of being alive. We are reminded of what it means to look at a stone on a table and realize how beautiful it is because we haven’t seen one like that in years. With the statements of passion and heartbreak, I empathize with both communities. I feel the pain that these people are expressing. There’s a pull toward the ordinary. It is seen as awesome. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Unexplainable. Incomparable. Just a stone on the table.
I can confidently say that the mystery of what it means to be human will never be solved. Life is an open case file that everyone is just trying to figure out together. However, texts like this give me something to live for. Ravn has expanded my mindset. She gave me a deeper picture of what it’s like to make a wrong decision. A deeper picture of human connection. Of feeling even deeper. Of how I can feel alive in every daily task. Of how to find the extraordinary in the ordinary. What a blessing it is to be on Earth. What a blessing to breathe new life and fresh air every day.
What are “the objects” in my life? What can I look at and meditate upon that makes me feel connected to the world and those around me? As much as I will always enjoy the view of a mountain of majesty, or the small ripples of a freshwater stream, a vast expanse of salt water, the bluejays in the trees every morning…God, teach me to be aware of that same beauty in the smile of my best friend. Help me find it on my paint-chipped front porch. While I’m brushing my teeth. In a warm embrace. Olga Ravn’s, The Employees, was probably the perfect choice to start 2024. I hope that I will continue to walk through these doors and be made aware of them being opened.