Fiction for Utilitarians: Loophole

[feotakahari]

I once read a book called Little Fuzzy, which was about the discovery of childlike animals that might or might not be sapient. It’s one of the few science fiction classics from before the 1970s that’s aged well, and I fully intend to write a post about it if and when I ever reread it. In the meantime, the closest thing I’ve seen to another story like Little Fuzzy is a fanfic for a webcomic I’ve never read.

Loophole takes place in a world much like our own, where a man whose life is going nowhere spends his time taking care of animals. They’re evidence for criminal trials, and he gives them food and shelter while they wait to be presented to the court, then returns them to their proper homes once each trial is finished. But his latest charge is clearly smarter than an animal, and as the bond between them grows, he’s forced to consider what he’s willing to risk in order to protect her and others like her.

The genius of Loophole is the way it ties together bigotries to find their common root. The history of the trolls blurs the line between animal abuse, child abuse, exploitation of indigenous peoples, and more, and at times, the story is clearly asking whether the difference is even relevant. This could easily have been insulting or patronizing–“colonialism is just like animal abuse!”–but it works because the author understands the power dynamics at the root of abusive behavior. Loophole digs deeply into the ways abuse is made possible and legitimized, through perpetrators, bystanders, and even people who think they’re not part of the problem, and it allows for the ways even a seemingly helpless person can resist the abusive patterns they’re trapped in.

Despite my comparison to Little Fuzzy, the two are quite different in tone and style. Little Fuzzy is polite and sedate, and even when it’s covering dark topics, it never tries to shock the reader. Loophole is raw emotion bleeding onto the page. It’s a young person’s story in both good and bad ways, without the polished prose of a professional work, but also without the detachment that comes from long exposure to suffering. It’s idealistic, but an open-eyed sort of idealism that isn’t afraid to speak plainly about what’s at stake and what’s already been lost.

(Loophole is a fanfic for a webcomic called Homestuck, but I was able to get through it with only mild confusion. I can recommend it even if you know nothing about the source material.)