Cоntents intrоductiоn I chаpter

II.CHАPTER.ANALYSIS OF NOVEL THEMES
2.1. Discuss the concept of truth and the ways in which it is constructed and manipulated by those in power
Finally, the level of reality is quite autonomous in relationship to others. We can see this at the end of chapter 4. Ragle, Vic, and Margo are looking at pictures of an unknown actress, Marilyn Monroe, in the magazines found in the ruins. Following that afternoon’s experience, the disappearance of the soft-drink stand, Ragle has decided to leave, to get some rest and study philosophy. At one point Margo intimates that they are being duped. At this instant, for Ragle, “it rang a bell deep inside him. On some sub-verbal level. ‘Maybe I won’t go away,’ he said” (73). He becomes aware of another level of reality than that of the essence with which his mental illness has made contact, so he no longer has any solid reason for leaving. Let us note, moreover, that if the signal goes off inside of him in a non-verbal fashion, this in no way indicates an objection to the idea that the logos constitutes the deepest level of reality: the logos has never been human speech. There is therefore a heterogeneity between the disappearance of the soft-drink stand and the moment when Ragle hears the control tower pronounce his name through the headphones of Sammy’s crystal set. These experiences put Ragle in contact with two distinct levels of reality from within the illusory universe of Old Town.
The major portion of the novel takes place in the reader’s daily universe: 1959 U.S.A., in a town that remains nameless because it cannot bear its ontological responsibilities alone. The town is the paradigm for the United States of plastic. It is slightly paradoxical to have a science fiction novel be set in our everyday reality. Perhaps at that time the traditional universe was more commonly tilted into a science fictional universe. Van Vogt did it marvelously. But still! Only the last sixty pages of the novel, out of 250, are about a science fiction universe, which–as we will find out–isn’t one anyway. Let us remember that Dick ran into many problems trying to get this novel published and that he was finally paid less for it than the others because of the mainstream elements in it. The typical science fiction reader is confounded by it, for obvious reasons. We could say the same of the two novels framing this one, Eye in the Sky and The Man in the High Castle. What is Dick doing during this period, before he comes back to a more classical and identifiable framework in Martian Time-Slip?
Let us sketch the structure of human relationships that also–or perhaps mostly, in Philip K. Dick’s work–makes up what is real. This is a typical American family without any distinguishing characteristics to differentiate it from that era’s happy middle classes. A couple, with one child, plus the brother-in-law of the man who is the breadwinner. To this can be added the annoying childless neighbors, as well as a woman dedicated to civil defense who lives alone with her son. All the novel’s levels of reality are represented by the different characters and their relationships, as Rossi shows in his analysis of the family ties between the characters.
The most important level is that of childhood, or more exactly, that of youth: maladjustment, in one way or another, to the adult world and its values. Sammy Nielson, Ragle’s nephew, is the most at ease here. He guides Ragle in his quest for reality: he finds the magazines and the slips of paper in the ruins, and it is through Sammy’s radio that Ragle hears the control tower tell the fighter pilot that he is flying over the Ragle Gumm. Sammy knows reality, much more deeply than the adults believe. If they had all believed or listened to him, things would have happened differently. Let us look at page 86: “They’ve got their dupe-guns trained on us dead center.” It is true! Sammy’s last appearance gives the same impression: he calls for his mother while his father and uncle still haven’t come back from town. His mother explains nothing to him. Sammy tells her: “Wow! . . . Maybe they stole something . . . left town” (243). Which is absolutely true.Dick engages in an unforgiving satire of his times through his portrait of Liz, the checkout girl in Vic’s grocery store. She looks like a woman one could see in an ad for pineapple juice (105), and has become a Republican since she left her native Texas to come live in a Republican state (9). (And it is curious to read of Texas as a bastion of democracy.) Entirely devoid of substance and personality, it matters little to wonder whether she is or is not a simulacra just like the bus passengers or the people standing in line at the bus station. A pure product of her times, Liz is comfortably installed in what one could call the adult world. The landlady, at whose place Ragle and Vic will begin to perceive the truth when they escape, is Liz all over again, with an extra forty years added on. Mrs. McFee shows the same conformity, the same unthinking submission to the dominant cultural models, including the typical way of criticizing the government without putting any personal thought into the matter: Liz doesn’t believe in the economic crisis; Mrs. McFee doesn’t believe in Ragle Gumm. This criticism is not simply about Dick’s era, the America Felix, as Rossi calls it. We meet thousands of characters like Liz and Mrs. McFee, like Margo Nielson, like Vic Nielson in our daily lives. They are our colleagues at work, our neighbors, our local grocery store managers, etc. Dick shows us how illusory and alienating this daily life is. Only the children stand out: with them alone does Ragle find some measure of complicity or interest. This America is totally impersonal: the town has no name, the newspaper organizing the contest is simply called the Gazette, and even the Nielson family has a name that reverts to nothing: as Rossi suggests, the sons of nihil.8 This impersonality accentuates the paradigmatic aspect of Old Town, and its universality.