I watched Never Let Me Go again tonight, and it makes me begin to understand why the clones raised for their organs as "spare parts" never truly rebelled against their fates.
Well, they did, some of them. In their way. Asking in a humble near-whisper if they could receive a deferral for their organ donations *was* the only rebellion they could muster. They were never raised to have any real backbone or hope for any kind of a future for themselves.
They simply wait until they are called to be divested of their vital organs, like animals for slaughter. It's the only purpose they've ever known for their lives and they've always been isolated and separate from "real" people. They lacked even the simplest of parental figures, so when they appeal to the women who oversaw their lives, the tiniest scrap remembered about their personalities causes Tommy to give a shy grin which shows he has mistaken a perfunctory remembrance for actual affection for him.
Of course, he quickly finds out they are still regarded as "things" beneath consideration. Madame only sees at the last moment that Kathy and Tommy are indeed real people, not simply vessels for housing spare parts in a healthy and protected growing medium.
And she expresses her pity for the lesser creatures who are doomed to sleepwalk through their twilight lives, never allowed to be part of anything meaningful to them.
What's the point of rebellion when you already know your fate can't be altered, ultimately, and that it will only cause you anguish to try?
I continue to donate my blood, and I'm on the bone marrow registry, if anybody should ever match me and need it. My gut tells me I won't ever match anyone, much like the personality / dating profiles I've done. :). I'm just too odd. Unique to my own detriment. Somewhere, there's a joke in that.
While I've had to withdraw my offer to have a baby for an unfortunate loved one, lacking the unfortunate loved one (thankfully they are still very blessed) and owing to my age, I'd still be willing to donate a kidney or part of my liver while I'm alive.
My secret behind trying to stay healthy is that I should keep my organs healthy so that whoever receives them can use them.
I signed my organ donor card a long time ago. My sister will honor my wish to be an organ donor. My father will not. These are the only things I am sure of.
I don't know why my father is so disturbed by the idea. He's never liked the idea of me donating blood either. I tried to explain it to him by saying that if I died in an accident, that parts of me would go on living instead of rotting uselessly in the ground. It's not conscious extended life or even limited immortality, it's just trying to help. And actually, most of the time I suspect that it's my only real purpose in life.
Providing spare parts. For the real people.