The Man I Became - Peter Verhelst

Translated by David Colmer

'I remember how amazed I was the first time I saw the great spectacle in the Dome and how excited I was to think that I was going to participate in it'.

In her introduction to the first book in Periene Press’s Fairy Tales series, publisher Meike Ziervogel confesses that 'animal fables are not usually my thing’; if that’s not enough, there is a disclaimer on the back cover: ’Warning: this story is narrated by a gorilla'. Have faith, though – beyond the advisory warnings, The Man I Became is a dark, comic, dystopian allegory, part fable and part coruscating satire on the society of the spectacle.

The novel begins with a brief glimpse of happiness, in the nameless narrator’s childhood; however, this is swiftly shattered, as he is abducted by poachers and taken on a forced march across the continent for transportation abroad. The lessons he learns from his first interactions with humans are brutal: the weak are cast aside, concentrate only on what's right in front of you, never show grief.

Following the creatures’ arrival in the complex known as Dreamland, their training begins: a forcible process where natural behaviours are beaten out of them, and a set of artificial codes and rules are forcibly instilled. The animals learn speech, posture, manners. The training culminates in a grand ball, one of the set piece highlights of the novel. Gorillas, giraffes, parrots, buffaloes whose 'horns had been decorated with flowers and hairpieces', bonobos, leopards and lions gather together to laugh, and 'talk about this and that'. Each performs the roles they have been trained to occupy: 'the ladies at the gentlemen's sides. All bolt upright', suppressing the primal instinct to behave as predators or prey.

The animals are encouraged with a mixture of threat and reward, with the purpose of training them to become part of a violent system. Verhelst astutely realises that the animals must be humanised before they can be dehumanised – the two states are achieved through the same process. This accurately echoes the pattern of gradual co-option into an oppressive system that can be found in studies of Nazi officers, such as Gitta Sereny’s Into That Darkness and Nikolaus Washmann’s KL. Gradually our narrator rises through the ranks, gaining responsibility and status (the twin ‘D’ badges, denoting ‘human’), but also uncovering information about the reality of his situation which leaves him feeling compromised.

Verhalst’s portrayal of Dreamland is particularly sharp. The theme park is presented as an aspirational fantasy: 'Dreamland shows us what we can become'. Twice daily, the animal conscripts perform a burlesque history of the world, reshaping their history to suit the ideology of the park’s owners. Behind the scenes, this glittering superstructure is supported by a base of imported slave labour and institutionalised cruelty and corruption. The world outside of Dreamland, glimpsed infrequently by the park’s inhabitants, is characterised as hostile, populated by drunks and unemployment - a stark, frightening contrast to the glittering façade of Dreamland.

As the story progresses, The Man I Became turns into a taut thriller, picking up pace without losing focus on the themes which run through the narrative. Crafting a complex set of class relationships between animals and humans based on patronage and privilege, Verhelst has created a powerful satire, which borrows from genre classics such as Animal Farm (the gradual blurring of boundaries between animals and humans) and Brave New World (distinct castes, marked out by those who walk erect and those who don’t), whilst maintaining its freshness and originality. It’s easy to see why the editors at Peirene set aside their usual scruples about animal stories to make this the centrepiece of their 2016 series.