MORAL DILEMMAS AND SOCIAL CONFINEMENT IN LLOYD JONES' THE CAGE: A STUDY OF TRAUMA, POWER, AND EXISTENTIAL CHOICE

M. Poornima

PhD Research Scholar

Department of English

Thiruvalluvar Govt. Arts College

Rasipuram, Namakkal

Dr. P. Mythily

Head & Associate Professor

Department of English

Thiruvalluvar Govt. Arts College

Rasipuram, Namakkal

Abstract:

Lloyd Jones’ The Cage interrogates the psychological and moral problems that emerge in the aftermath of collective trauma, framed through the lens of a community’s uneasy relationship with mysterious strangers confined in a cage. This paper explores how Jones’ novel engages with moral ambiguity and systemic social confinement, drawing parallels with literary works such as William Golding’s Lord of the Flies and Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. Employing Michel Foucault’s theory of panopticism, existentialist philosophy (notably Sartre and Camus), trauma theory (Judith Herman), and psychoanalytic frameworks (Freud, Lacan), the analysis reveals how institutionalized power, existential choice, and collective guilt shape human behavior under duress. By situating The Cage within broader discourses of postcolonial otherness, narrative fragmentation, and contemporary socio-political control, this study underscores the novel’s relevance to modern debates on morality, surveillance, and dehumanization.

Keywords: Existentialism, Narrative fragmentation, Human morality, Collective guilt, Power

Lloyd Jones, best known for his Booker Prize-shortlisted novel Mister Pip (2006), returns to themes of storytelling and moral ambiguity in The Cage. The novel is set in a rural hotel, where two strangers referred to as "the strangers" or "the visitors" are taken in after being found wandering in a state of shock. Their presence disrupts the town's equilibrium, forcing the community to confront uncomfortable truths about humanity, suffering, and the limits of understanding. Jones' sparse, evocative prose and fragmented narrative structure mirror the fractured psyches of the characters, creating a powerful meditation on the nature of trauma and the stories we tell to make sense of it.

The title The Cage is a central metaphor in the novel, symbolizing both physical and psychological confinement. The strangers are initially placed in a literal cage at the hotel, a decision that reflects the community's attempt to contain and control the unknown. However, the cage also represents the broader human experience of being trapped—by trauma, memory, and societal expectations. As Jones writes, "The cage is not just for them; it is for us. We are all caged by our own limitations, our inability to fully understand or connect with others" (Jones, 45). The cage, therefore, is not merely a physical structure but a psychological and emotional barrier that separates individuals from one another, highlighting the inherent isolation of the human condition.

This paper situates The Cage within frameworks of Foucauldian discipline, existentialist agency, trauma theory, and psychoanalytic critique to argue that the novel interrogates the fragility of ethical systems under pressure. By drawing parallels with Lord of the Flies, The Handmaid’s Tale, and other works, the analysis reveals how Jones’ themes of dehumanization, complicity, and existential choice resonate across literary traditions. Furthermore, the fragmented narrative structure of The Cagemirrors the disjointed memory of trauma survivors, resisting linear resolution and inviting readers to grapple with ambiguity.

Michel Foucault’s concept of the panopticon (Discipline and Punish, 1975) provides a critical lens through which to analyze the cage in Jones’ novel. The panopticon—a prison design where inmates self-regulate under the assumption of constant surveillance—mirrors the villagers’ obsession with monitoring the Visitors. Foucault argues that such mechanisms of control produce “docile bodies” through internalized discipline, a process evident in the villagers’ performative morality. They oscillate between pity and hostility, their behavior dictated by an invisible authority that demands conformity.

The cage becomes a stage for the villagers to enact their moral superiority. By confining the Visitors, they assert control over the unknown, transforming them into a spectacle that reinforces their communal identity. This performative dynamic echo Foucault’s assertion that “visibility is a trap,” as the villagers’ scrutiny of the Visitors masks their own vulnerability. The cage’s physical structure—a transparent enclosure—ensures the Visitors are always visible, yet their silence and incomprehensibility render them an object of both fascination and fear.

The strangers' trauma is never fully explained, leaving their past shrouded in mystery. This narrative choice reflects the ineffability of trauma, which often resists articulation. As one character observes, "Their silence is louder than any story we could tell" (Jones, 2018, p. 78). This silence forces the townspeople to project their own interpretations onto the strangers, highlighting the subjective nature of memory and storytelling. The strangers' silence becomes a mirror, reflecting the townspeople's own fears, biases, and unresolved traumas. In this way, the novel explores the ways in which trauma is not only a personal experience but also a collective one, shaped by the stories we tell and the meanings we assign to them.

In The Handmaid’s Tale, Atwood’s Gilead enforces social confinement through gendered surveillance, akin to the villagers’ scrutiny of the Visitor. Offred’s red habit and the Eyes’ omnipresence parallel the cage’s role as a tool of normalization. Both texts reveal how power structures legitimize oppression through moral rhetoric, whether through religious dogma (Gilead) or civic duty (the villagers).

Foucault’s later work on biopower in The History of Sexuality further illuminates the villagers’ treatment of the Visitor. Biopower—the regulation of populations through institutions and discourses is evident in their attempts to categorize, name, and civilize them. The Visitors’ namelessness and lack of language evoke colonial narratives of dehumanization, where the subaltern is rendered voiceless. Edward Said’s Orientalism (1978) underscores this dynamic: the villagers construct the Visitors as a savage “Other” to affirm their own cultural superiority, much like European colonizers exoticized and subjugated non-Western peoples.

The villagers’ collective guilt and ethical paralysis reflect existentialist notions of radical freedom and bad faith. The protagonist’s internal conflict—whether to protect or exploit the Visitors—epitomizes the existential dilemma of choosing meaning in an absurd world. Jones denies readers moral clarity, mirroring Camus’ The Stranger, where ambivalence underscores human judgment.

Sartre’s concept of “bad faith” describes the self-deception individuals employ to evade responsibility. The villagers embody this through their refusal to acknowledge their complicity in the Visitor’s suffering. By framing their actions as necessary for communal safety, they absolve themselves of guilt. This mirrors the self-justifications of Golding’s boys in Lord of the Flies, who rationalize their descent into savagery as survival instinct.

In Lord of the Flies, the boys’ moral disintegration reflects the villagers’ ethical collapse. Both groups weaponize fear to legitimize violence, blurring the line between civilization and barbarism. Roger’s sadistic stoning of Piggy parallels the villagers’ incremental cruelty toward the Visitor, revealing how power corrupts when unchecked by accountability.

Camus’ The Plague offers a counterpoint. While Jones’ villagers succumb to moral apathy, Camus’ characters confront absurdity through solidarity. Dr. Rieux’s commitment to healing despite futility contrasts with the protagonist’s ambivalence in The Cage, underscoring existentialism’s spectrum of responses to crisis.

Judith Herman’s Trauma and Recovery frames the villagers’ inability to reconcile their guilt as a failure of collective witnessing. Trauma, Herman argues, requires communal acknowledgment to heal. Instead, the villagers replicate cycles of violence, projecting their unresolved trauma onto the Visitor. This dynamic mirrors Toni Morrison’s Beloved where Sethe’s haunting by her dead daughter forces her community to confront the legacy of slavery. Both texts use spectral figures to challenge historical amnesia.

The cage symbolizes the community’s repressed trauma, a physical manifestation of their psychological imprisonment. Jones’ fragmented narrative style—shifting perspectives, nonlinear chronology—mirrors the disjointed memory of trauma survivors. The atrocity that precedes the novel remains shrouded in ambiguity, resisting closure and critiquing the Western obsession with narrative resolution.

Jean-François Lyotard’s The Postmodern Condition critiques grand narratives that claim to explain human experience. The Cage aligns with this skepticism: the villagers’ attempts to construct a coherent story around the Visitors fail, exposing the instability of truth. This fragmentation is mirrored in the structure of Primo Levi’s Survival in Auschwitz (1947), where vignettes of camp life reject linearity to convey the incomprehensibility of trauma.

In Beloved, Morrison uses the ghost of Sethe’s daughter to embody the unspeakable horrors of slavery. Similarly, the Visitor’s presence forces the villagers to confront their complicity in violence. Both texts reject redemptive endings, insisting on the persistence of historical pain.

Elie Wiesel’s Night depicts dehumanization in Nazi concentration camps, paralleling the Visitor’s reduction to a “creature.” Wiesel’s stark prose—"Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever"—resonates with the villagers’ loss of moral certainty.

Freud’s concept of the uncanny in Das Unheimlicheand Julia Kristeva’s theory of abjection in Powers of Horrordeepen the analysis of the Visitor’s role. The uncanny—the familiar made strange—is evoked through the Visitor’s human-yet-nonhuman appearance, destabilizing the villagers’ sense of security. Kristeva’s abject, which “disturbs identity, system, order,” manifests in their visceral revulsion toward his body. This revulsion, however, masks their repressed guilt, rendering the Visitor a mirror for their own moral decay.

The Cage’s themes of surveillance and dehumanization resonate with modern socio-political issues. The villagers’ panoptic scrutiny of the Visitor mirrors contemporary surveillance capitalism, where data harvesting and social media algorithms enforce conformity. Similarly, the cage evokes imagery of immigration detention centers, where marginalized groups are confined and othered.

Foucault’s panopticon finds a modern counterpart in social media’s “participatory surveillance” (Albrechtslund). Users willingly submit to visibility, much like the villagers’ performative morality. The Visitor’s cage becomes a metaphor for the curated selves we display online—trapped by the expectation of constant observation.

The Cage is a profound meditation on the intersections of morality, trauma, and societal control. Through Foucault, existentialism, trauma theory, and psychoanalytic critique, Jones’ work exposes the fragility of ethical systems under pressure. The villagers’ moral disintegration, mirrored in literary counterparts like Lord of the Flies and The Handmaid’s Tale, reflects humanity’s capacity for cruelty and redemption.

The novel’s unresolved ending—a refusal to provide narrative closure—challenges readers to sit with discomfort, resisting the impulse to simplify trauma into digestible lessons. In an era of polarized moral discourse, The Cage serves as a cautionary tale: the cages we construct, whether physical or ideological, ultimately imprison us all.

Works Cited

Atwood, Margaret. The Handmaid’s Tale. Anchor Books. 1985.

Camus, Albert. The Plague. Penguin Books. 1947.

Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish. Vintage Publishers. 1975.

Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. Faber and Faber 1954.