Airborn

Class forms the primary division separating strata of society in Airborn. Through the contrast between Matt’s and Kate’s lives and mindsets, the novel demonstrates the way that access to wealth shapes how one sees and interacts with the world. Matt, from a poor family, begins working full time at age 12, after the death of his father leaves him the primary provider for his mother and sisters. Kate, by contrast, is financially privileged and occupies the finest stateroom on the Aurora during her travels. They share an interest in airships and a desire for adventure, and those shared interests, along with Kate’s lack of snobbery, allow them to transcend enough of their differences to forge a friendship.

Still, the difference in their classes creates significant external and internal boundaries between them. Wanting to solidify their friendship, Kate asks Matt to refer to her by her given name, Kate, instead of calling her Miss de Vries. When Matt refuses, pointing out that he would get in trouble if he were overheard, Kate scoffs: “‘Silly rules.’ ‘People like you invented them. Not me.’ ‘Good point,’ she said appreciatively, a thoughtful crease in her brow. ‘Really good point’” (98). Kate’s desire to set aside rules meant to enforce class boundaries shows her open-mindedness, and her response to Matt pointing out who makes and enforces those rules shows her to be willing to consider those with less class privilege than her as authorities on matters of classism. Though she recognizes Matt’s point of view as valid, however, she does not necessarily change her behavior as a result. After crash-landing on the island, she routinely manipulates Matt into accompanying her on her adventures, despite his continual reminders of the trouble he will face if he is late for his duty shift. The novel does not present her behavior as malicious, but rather as naïve: she simply cannot comprehend that there could be serious consequences for Matt for breaking the rules. That naïveté, however, is an inherent consequence of class privilege. When Bruce learns about the cloud cats, he, too, dismisses his responsibilities to the Aurora readily and without concern. The reason Kate and Bruce can flout rules and responsibilities is that there are fewer consequences for the rich than there are for working-class people like Matt. As much as Kate likes and respects Matt, she never recognizes the full extent of her privilege.

Though Matt is typically disdainful of the rich passengers’ willful ignorance of the realities of working-class life, he too falls victim to the pernicious logic of classism that suggests the poor are poor due to their personal failings. What Matt normally sees with pragmatism becomes a source of shame when he thinks of explaining to Kate why he cannot attend the Air Academy. Even if he had a scholarship to cover his tuition, he could not afford to lose two years of income when his mother and sisters still rely on him for financial support. Yet he cannot bring himself to explain this to Kate: “I felt ashamed. Around her and all her wealth, the very idea of being poor seemed ridiculous. Impossible. She meant well, but I doubted she had any notion of what the world was like outside her moneyed bubble” (186). Though he logically understands that Kate is the one with the limited view, this does not protect him from the embarrassment that arises at explaining he cannot have everything he wishes for in the world. The end of the novel suggests that Matt will have some upward social mobility because of the monetary reward he received for defeating the pirates, though whether or not this movement into greater privilege will cause him to adopt Kate’s mental limitations remains to be seen.