And the faces of people? The ones I saw at the Ceremony?
The Giver shook his head. No, flesh isnt red. But it has red tones in it. There was a time, actually youll see this in the memories later when flesh was many different colours. That was before we went to Sameness. Today flesh is all the same, and what you saw was the red tones. Probably when you saw the faces take on colour it wasnt as deep or vibrant as the apple, or your friends hair.
The Giver chuckled, suddenly. Weve never completely mastered Sameness. I suppose the genetic scientists are still hard at work trying to work the kinks out. Hair like Fionas must drive them crazy.
Jonas listened, trying hard to comprehend. And the sledge? he said. It had that same thing: the colour red. But it didnt change, Giver. It just was.
Because its a memory from the time when colour was.
It was so oh, I wish language were more precise! The red was so beautiful!
The Giver nodded. It is.
Do you see it all the time?
I see all of them. All the colours.
Will I?
Of course. When you receive the memories. You have the capacity to see beyond. Youll gain wisdom, then, along with colours. And lots more.
Jonas wasnt interested, just then, in wisdom. It was the colours that fascinated him. Why cant everyone see them? Why did colours disappear?
The Giver shrugged. Our people made that choice, the choice to go to Sameness. Before my time, before the previous time, back and back and back. We relinquished colour when we relinquished sunshine and did away with differences. He thought for a moment. We gained control of many things. But we had to let go of others.
We shouldnt have! Jonas said fiercely.
The Giver looked startled at the certainty of Jonass reaction. Then he smiled wryly. Youve come very quickly to that conclusion, he said. It took me many years. Maybe your wisdom will come much more quickly than mine.
He glanced at the wall clock. Lie back down, now. We have so much to do.
Giver, Jonas asked as he arranged himself again on the bed, how did it happen to you when you were becoming the Receiver? You said that the seeing-beyond happened to you, but not the same way.
The hands came to his back. Another day, the Giver said gently. Ill tell you another day. Now we must work. And Ive thought of a way to help you with the concept of colour.
Close your eyes and be still, now. Im going to give you a memory of a rainbow.
DAYS WENT BY, and weeks. Jonas learned, through the memories, the names of colours; and now he began to see them all, in his ordinary life (though he knew it was ordinary no longer, and would never be again). But they didnt last. There would be a glimpse of green the landscaped lawn around the Central Plaza; a bush on the riverbank. The bright orange of pumpkins being trucked in from the agricultural fields beyond the community boundary seen in an instant, the flash of brilliant colour, but gone again, returning to their flat and hueless shade.
The Giver told him that it would be a very long time before he had the colours to keep.
But I want them! Jonas said angrily. It isnt fair that nothing has colour!
Not fair? The Giver looked at Jonas curiously. Explain what you mean.
Well Jonas had to stop and think it through. If everythings the same, then there arent any choices! I want to wake up in the morning and decide things! A blue tunic, or a red one?
He looked down at himself, at the colourless fabric of his clothing. But its all the same, always.
Then he laughed a little. I know its not important, what you wear. It doesnt matter. But
Its the choosing thats important, isnt it? The Giver asked him.
Jonas nodded. My little brother he began, and then corrected himself. No, thats inaccurate. Hes not my brother, not really. But this newchild that my family takes care of his names Gabriel?
Yes, I know about Gabriel.
Well, hes right at the age where hes learning so much. He grabs toys when we hold them in front of him my father says hes learning small-muscle control. And hes really cute.
The Giver nodded.
But now that I can see colours, at least sometimes, I was just thinking: what if we could hold up things that were bright red, or bright yellow, and he could choose? Instead of the Sameness.
He might make wrong choices.
Oh. Jonas was silent for a minute. Oh, I see what you mean. It wouldnt matter for a newchilds toy. But later it does matter, doesnt it? We dont dare to let people make choices of their own.
Not safe? The Giver suggested.
Definitely not safe, Jonas said with certainty. What if they were allowed to choose their own mate? And chose wrong?
Or what if, he went on, almost laughing at the absurdity, they chose their own jobs?
Frightening, isnt it? The Giver said.
Jonas chuckled. Very frightening. I cant even imagine it. We really have to protect people from wrong choices.
Its safer.
Yes, Jonas agreed. Much safer.
But when the conversation turned to other things, Jonas was left, still, with a feeling of frustration that he didnt understand.
He found that he was often angry, now: irrationally angry at his groupmates, that they were satisfied with their lives which had none of the vibrance his own was taking on. And he was angry at himself, that he could not change that for them.
He tried. Without asking permission from the Giver, because he feared or knew that it would be denied, he tried to give his new awareness to his friends.
Asher, Jonas said one morning, look at those flowers very carefully. They were standing beside a bed of geraniums planted near the Hall of Open Records. He put his hands on Ashers shoulders, and concentrated on the red of the petals, trying to hold it as long as he could, and trying at the same time to transmit the awareness of red to his friend.
Whats the matter? Asher asked uneasily. Is something wrong? He moved away from Jonass hands. It was extremely rude for one citizen to touch another outside of family units.
No, nothing. I thought for a minute that they were wilting, and we should let the Gardening Crew know they needed more watering. Jonas sighed, and turned away.
One evening he came home from his training weighted with new knowledge. The Giver had chosen a startling and disturbing memory that day. Under the touch of his hands, Jonas had found himself suddenly in a place that was completely alien: hot and windswept under a vast blue sky. There were tufts of sparse grass, a few bushes and rocks, and nearby he could see an area of thicker vegetation: broad, low trees outlined against the sky. He could hear noises: the sharp crack of weapons he perceived the word guns and then shouts, and an immense crashing thud as something fell, tearing branches from the trees.
He heard voices calling to one another. Peering from the place where he stood hidden behind some shrubbery, he was reminded of what the Giver had told him, that there had been a time when flesh had different colours. Two of these men had dark brown skin; the others were light. Going closer, he watched them hack the tusks from a motionless elephant on the ground and haul them away, spattered with blood. He felt himself overwhelmed with a new perception of the colour he knew as red.
Then the men were gone, speeding towards the horizon in a vehicle that spat pebbles from its whirling tyres. One hit his forehead and stung him there. But the memory continued, though Jonas ached now for it to end.
Now he saw another elephant emerge from the place where it had stood hidden in the trees. Very slowly it walked to the mutilated body and looked down. With its sinuous trunk it stroked the huge corpse; then it reached up, broke some leafy branches with a snap, and draped them over the mass of torn thick flesh.
Finally it tilted its massive head, raised its trunk, and roared into the empty landscape. Jonas had never heard such a sound. It was a sound of rage and grief and it seemed never to end.
He could still hear it when he opened his eyes and lay anguished on the bed where he received the memories. It continued to roar into his consciousness as he pedalled slowly home.
Lily, he asked that evening when his sister took her comfort object, the stuffed elephant, from the shelf, did you know that once there really were elephants? Live ones?
She glanced down at the ragged comfort object and grinned. Right, she said sceptically. Sure, Jonas.
Jonas went and sat beside them while his father untied Lilys hair ribbons and combed her hair. He placed one hand on each of their shoulders. With all of his being he tried to give each of them a piece of the memory: not of the tortured cry of the elephant, but of the being of the elephant, of the towering, immense creature and the meticulous touch with which it had tended its friend at the end.
But his father had continued to comb Lilys long hair, and Lily, impatient, had finally wiggled under her brothers touch. Jonas, she said, youre hurting me with your hand.
I apologise for hurting you, Lily, Jonas mumbled, and took his hand away.
Ccept your apology, Lily responded indifferently, stroking the lifeless elephant.
Giver, Jonas asked once, as they prepared for the days work, dont you have a spouse? Arent you allowed to apply for one? Although he was exempted from the rules against rudeness, he was aware that this was a rude question. But the Giver had encouraged all of his questions, not seeming to be embarrassed or offended by even the most personal.
The Giver chuckled. No, theres no rule against it. And I did have a spouse. Youre forgetting how old I am, Jonas. My former spouse lives now with the Childless Adults.
Oh, of course. Jonas had forgotten the Givers obvious age. When adults of the community became older, their lives became different. They were no longer needed to create family units. Jonass own parents, when he and Lily were grown, would go to live with the Childless Adults.
Youll be able to apply for a spouse, Jonas, if you want to. Ill warn you, though, that it will be difficult. Your living arrangements will have to be different from those of most family units, because the books are forbidden to citizens. You and I are the only ones with access to the books.
Jonas glanced around at the astonishing array of volumes. From time to time, now, he could see their colours. With their hours together, his and the Givers, consumed by conversation and by the transmission of memories, Jonas had not yet opened any of the books. But he read the titles here and there, and knew that they contained all of the knowledge of centuries, and that one day they would belong to him.
So if I have a spouse, and maybe children, I will have to hide the books from them?
The Giver nodded. I wasnt permitted to share the books with my spouse, thats correct. And there are other difficulties, too. You remember the rule that says the new Receiver cant talk about his training?
Jonas nodded. Of course he remembered. It had turned out, by far, to be the most frustrating of the rules he was required to obey.
When you become the official Receiver, when were finished here, youll be given a whole new set of rules. Those are the rules that I obey. And it wont surprise you that I am forbidden to talk about my work to anyone except the new Receiver. Thats you, of course.
So there will be a whole part of your life which you wont be able to share with a family. Its hard, Jonas. It was hard for me.
You do understand, dont you, that this is my life? The memories?
Jonas nodded again, but he was puzzled. Didnt life consist of the things you did each day? There wasnt anything else, really. Ive seen you taking walks, he said.
The Giver sighed. I walk. I eat at mealtimes. And when I am called by the Committee of Elders, I appear before them, to give them counsel and advice.
Do you advise them often? Jonas was a little frightened at the thought that one day he would be the one to advise the ruling body.
But the Giver said no. Rarely. Only when they are faced with something that they have not experienced before. Then they call upon me to use the memories and advise them. But it very seldom happens. Sometimes I wish theyd ask for my wisdom more often there are so many things I could tell them; things I wish they would change. But they dont want change. Life here is so orderly, so predictable so painless. Its what theyve chosen.
I dont know why they even need a Receiver, then, if they never call upon him, Jonas commented.
They need me. And you, the Giver said, but didnt explain. They were reminded of that ten years ago.
What happened ten years ago? Jonas asked. Oh, I know. You tried to train a successor and it failed. Why? Why did that remind them?
The Giver smiled grimly. When the new Receiver failed, the memories that she had received were released. They didnt come back to me. They went
He paused, and seemed to be struggling with the concept. I dont know, exactly. They went to the place where memories once existed before Receivers were created. Somewhere out there He gestured vaguely with his arm. And then the people had access to them. Apparently thats the way it was, once. Everyone had access to memories.
It was chaos, he said. They really suffered for a while. Finally it subsided as the memories were assimilated. But it certainly made them aware of how they need a Receiver to contain all that pain. And knowledge.
But you have to suffer like that all the time, Jonas pointed out.
The Giver nodded. And you will. Its my life. It will be yours.
Jonas thought about it, about what it would be like for him. Along with walking and eating and He looked around the walls of books. Reading? Thats it?
The Giver shook his head. Those are simply the things that I do. My life is here.
In this room?
The Giver shook his head. He put his hands to his own face, to his chest. No. Here, in my being. Where the memories are.