The Clash Between Emotion and Reason in 'The Hunter'

Julia Leigh’s the Hunter is a contemporary novel with ecocentrism as its central theme. Personifying natural elements such as the Thylacine and the harsh climes of New Zealand allows her to create a vivid and haunting aura that looms over the reader throughout the novel. The surrealism of the settings and the stream of consciousness expressed by the protagonist are few of the many narrative techniques that help elevate the flow and lucidity of the novel. Despite being ecocentric at heart, the novel merges anthropocentrism as it progresses, and shows the dualism between the two. 

The Thylacine is the McGuffin for our protagonist M, who later gets obsessed with the task of finding the creature and then the faceoff that ensues. There is a lot of sentiment evoked of extinction and destruction that allude to in the story. This emotionality proves to be a stark contrast to the rationality and stoicism of the protagonist, creating a clash between emotion and reason. This dichotomy becomes a recurring motif in the writing and effectively converts the fictitious prey and predator tale into a moral struggle in the mind of M. My attempt in this essay is to trace the evidence to explore this juxtaposition between emotion and reason in ‘The Hunter’ and to analyse how these elements contrast or combine to shape the story and persona of the protagonist. 

The overall premise of the novel is bleak and soulless, exactly how our author intends it to be. It is obligatory to study the calculating, robotic visage of Martin David to grasp the nuances of expression and suppression of emotions throughout the plot. The protagonist M is introduced to be devoid of any humanistic feelings, his conscience solely devoted to the task assigned to him. “M understands very well the nature of his assignment, that time is of the essence, that he is not being paid to doubt, that he is not to give up easily, and if he were, another man would quite happily step in and take his place”. In making this comment, Leigh lays emphasis on how it’s not only the denial of sentiment, but simply that there’s no room for it. M here is just a tool, a means to an end and personal feelings are just prospective jeopardies to the job assigned. The common interpretation of the author’s statement, “As for M, who is anchored by neither wife nor home, nor by a lover or a single [friend]”, would claim this to be a showcase of M’s loneliness and vulnerability but I would argue it instead refers to a sense of freedom that this very absence of anchors allows him to exercise. 

M is not a very complex character, the feelings that are alien are merely to be denied or compartmentalized. “Denial functions by withdrawing attention from the noxious stimulus, thereby denying its existence. Through reversal, transformation, or other modifications of reality, the frightening aspect of the stimulus is negated or is mentally changed into something more pleasant” The sort of reasoning and denial M seems to exhibit throughout the novel implies a coping mechanism, not to negate discomfort, but to fortify him, and to make him more efficient. “I am a professional, he tells himself” and “[until] he is not quite human”. These remarks by the author show the conditioning M subjects himself to, eliminating any possibility of vulnerability and morphing him into a beast, this projection of himself into an unfamiliar beast is another way for him to liberate himself from his humanistic instincts and letting his animalistic impulses be the driving factors of his psyche. 

The protagonist manifests himself into the very essence of hunting, one that just sees the target and the hunt, questioning why is irrelevant. Martin might be great at his blatantly stolid disposition, but not immune to it. The hunter is not only ironically prey to his rival Thylacine, but more so to the emotions he is subjected to by the other characters. “[there] by the fire it slowly subtly descends upon him: he finds he has cultivated doubt”. This can be interpreted as melting of M’s cold exterior, but he responds to this doubt by forgetting it and suffocating it. At a later point in the plot, Sass hopes for M to find her lost father, though this prospect is of little value to M’s task, he agrees to keep an eye out for him and also safeguards the picture in a plastic pouch. Going out of his way to do this for Sass is paradoxical to M’s apathetic nature. Consequently, he himself is unable to explain this behaviour but it is a clear indicator of M’s letting himself indulge in an act of emotion. 

Reason is still prioritized over emotion as the narrative unfolds, since the protagonist has always kept his emotions on his leash. The notion of being dominated by the heart seem alien to him. As the author writes, “[only] time could heal a broken heart. Was it true? He doesn’t know, but its something that had like to know in case it happened. Not that he plans to ever let it happen – that’s where those boys went wrong, they let it happen.” I am of two minds with regards to M’s perspective on this. On the one hand I would say there is a sense of wanting to give in and experience a situation where he felt broken and the healing that would follow, as a sort of vaccine for future predicaments he finds himself in. On the other hand, I opine the likelihood of this happening with M is almost negligible and he considers preventing such a scenario to be more optimal than to experience it. M is so painfully practical that even the feelings of love and desire only appeal to him at primal level. “he starts to masturbate, imagining the woman […] adventure. Enough – back to her breasts. Aim away, until…done”. Even his need to satisfy his carnal hunger are just a job to him, a nuisance. Pleasuring himself for the sake of it and because he deserves it, there’s no meaning attached except the sense of feeling rewarded. Furthermore, M. finds himself questioning whether to hit a person in the bar or not, “Now is the time for patience; he is a professional and won’t do anything to jeopardize the hunt”. Succinctly put, Leigh sculpts M as a man that sees the world in black and white, there’s only what matters and what doesn’t. Filtering out anything but the prey is a crucial trait possessed by hunters. Our protagonist is an epitome of this conviction, trying to trace emotions in M’s character is like scouting for a skilful prey. 

A man who has camouflaged his feelings within a shroud of rationality, to a point where there’s no distinction, reason is the only thing he feels. The Thylacine is beyond emotion, a wild predator. It does not care about connection or how it is lonely, nor does it introspect. The Thylacine is an anthromorphism of everything M strives to be. The parallels between both these predators echo throughout the book. “Over the course of this accomplished novel, the phantom tiger and the hunter emerge as a perfect match. M himself is something of a specimen, a creaturely man in a creaturely world, someone who effaces his human scent by smearing himself with wombat and wallaby excrement. He becomes a shape-shifting predator who fuses with his predatory prey by reducing himself to the clarity of the hunt.” Nixon’s remark here offers wonderful insight on the dynamic of M and the Thylacine and the attempts made at humanizing the animal and dehumanizing Martin. This dualism between the two also allows us to entertain the notion that M’s obsession with Thylacine is laced with feelings of not only admiration but also envy, as the magnanimity of the beast almost dominates Martins own ego. This clash proves to be quintessential in the ending later. “In the six weeks that have passed since M’s unfortunate mention of the water bottle there has grown between the girl and himself a strange intimacy, the kind of wary intimacy to be found amongst old friends who have in the past betrayed one another”. The comparison M draws between his bond with Sass is an interesting development with regards to his relationships with the people around him. It helps provide a different perspective on the otherwise monotonous solitude M is shown to confine himself in. “Here, says M and softly rests his giant hands on the boys shoulders […] He holds the boy to his chest and feels the little shoulder blades rise and fall, until finally – finally! – the breath modulates, settles down”. This tenderness he shows towards Bike and the fact that he embraces him until he calms down shows a sensitive side to him. It is natural to speculate whether the reasons behind these actions were out of affection or just imitating to provide an expected reaction, regardless of that, what matters more is the emotional depth Martin begins to express around the kids. The next expedition M goes on ensues a faceoff with the Thylacine, after countless attempts to track down the animal, M ensures he has laser focused attention on the hunt and that he is operating at the full extent of his skills. Once everything was in place, M took the shot only to miss the beast. “[one] man on the plateau, and – speechless – holds his head between his hands”. This is a powerful scene, because it paints a metaphor with the deluge of the pouring rain washing over all the effort M invested to reach that point, only to be washed away. Defeated by the beast, and he couldn’t help but lament at his sorry state but not for long. “I will fail. I will fail. […] I will cosset myself in failure”, M says, shifting his focus from giving up hunting after his futile attempts failed, and an epiphany unfolded. He decides to embrace the failure, to own it and to dominate it. “A feeling of warmth, actual bodily warmth, flushes through his chest and he realises that he, too, will miss her, will miss [them]”. This is a turning point in M’s character and this strong emotion felt by him is an effective pathos that in turn evokes empathy for M. The impact of this is heightened because of the stark contrast it represents as M deviates from his normative behaviour. M bids goodbye and the story propels into the future. When M returns, he learns the horrible tragedies at befell Lucy and the family. M doesn’t react much to this news, I found this withholding of information a genius tool in narrative. There is emotion here, but none to be expressed. M internalizes his feelings once again, its not about what emotion M feels, but why does he feel it. “He is not, he tells himself, nor has he ever been, a sentimental man […] was an exercise in delusion”. M is back to his shell, laughing at the naïve notion of hoping he had a chance to have that life. It is a testament of how his life of reason was harsh but real, less painful than the one he hoped to have. The Thylacine is chased by him and then killed, the job is done. Martin makes the Armstrong’s to be as foreign to him as an alien planet; he knows it exists and has had subtle but powerful effects on him. 

In conclusion, throughout the extract, the dichotomy between reason and emotion tips on both sides of the scale, but at the conclusion even though most would say M’s relapse to his former self would imply reason to prevail, I’d say M merely is not in control of his emotional scope yet and its easier to take reason take the wheel. Ultimately, what matters is M experienced it, something entered his hollow interior and filled it up. M is no longer alien to the prospect of sentiment, emotion fought to be let in and now it will fight to stay.