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The state maintains its structure by torture, intimidation, violence, and brainwashing. Blimey, Orwell's Animal Farm is already depressing, but gives "depression" a new meaning, at least for me.
View all 92 comments. In George Orwell's , Winston Smith is an open source developer who writes his code offline because his ISP has installed packet sniffers that are regulated by the government under the Patriot Act. It's really for his own protection, though. From, like, terrorists and DVD pirates and stuff. Like every good American, he drinks Coca-Cola and his processed food has desensitized his palate to all but four flavors: H In George Orwell's , Winston Smith is an open source developer who writes his code offline because his ISP has installed packet sniffers that are regulated by the government under the Patriot Act.
His benevolent overlords have provided him with some war happening somewhere for some reason so that he, and the rest of the population, can be sure that the government is really in his best interests.
In fact, the news always has some story about Paris Hilton or yet another white girl who has been abducted by some evil bastard who is biologically wired by , years of human evolution to fuck year-olds, but is socially conditioned to be obsessed with sex, yet also to feel guilty about it. This culminates into a distorted view of sexuality, and results in rape and murder, which both make for very good news topics.
The television also plays on his fears of the unknown by exaggerating stereotypes of minorities and homosexuals, under the guise of celebrating "diversity", but even these images of being ghetto-fabulous and a lisping interior designer actually exist solely to promote racism and homophobia, which also prove to be efficient distractions.
For some reason, Winston gets tired of eating recycled Pop Tarts and eating happy pills and pretending to be interested in sports and manufactured news items.
But, in the end, they fix him and he's happy again. Or something. Classics readers, political readers concerned with overreaches. On the novel front, the characters are bland and you only care about them because of the awful things they live through.
As a novel all the political exposition is heavyhanded, and the message completely overrides any sense of storytelling. As an essay, the points it makes can be earthshaking. It seems everyone who has so much as gotten a parking ticket thinks he lives in a dystopia.
Every administration that reaches for po is not a particularly good novel, but it is a very good essay. Every administration that reaches for power, injures civil liberties or collaborates too much with media is accused of playing Big Brother. These are the successes of 's paranoia, far outliving its original intent as a battery against where Communism was going Orwell was a severely disappointed Marxist , and while people who compare their leaders to Big Brother are usually overreaching themselves and speak far away from Orwell's intent and vision, it is a useful catchcloth for dissent.
Like so many immortalized books with a social vision, 's actual substance is so thin that its ideologies and fear-mongering aspects can be stretched and skewed to suit the readers. If you'd like a better sense of the real world and Orwell's intents, rather than third-hand interpretations of his fiction, then his Homage to Catalonia is highly recommended. I'm gonna ask myself a mandatory question and say nothing more. Why the fuck had I not read this book before? View all 29 comments.
It's written ? Clearly History has its twisted ways to repeat itself.. View all 99 comments. View all 30 comments. View all 55 comments. I am a big fan of speculative fiction and in my literary travels I have encountered a myriad of dystopias, anti-utopias and places and societies that make one want to scream and Despite being published back in , I have yet to f I am a big fan of speculative fiction and in my literary travels I have encountered a myriad of dystopias, anti-utopias and places and societies that make one want to scream and The very mention of either of those terms invokes images of Nazis and Soviet gulags in my mind.
Yet Orwell's creation is in many ways even more insidious than these real-world bogeymen. I first read this book when I was 12 years old in 7th grade as a Anyway, I decided to re-read this book recently as an adult in the hopes that I would be able to gain a great appreciation for this classic. Well, the book did more than that.
From the very first sentence, "It was a bright, cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen" to the unforgettable final sentence which I will not give away here , this story sucked me in, beat the living shit out of me and through me out the other side a hollow, wasted wreck.
I know, it doesn't sound very cheery, but it is a life-changing experience. I have always thought that one of the best and most important qualities of science fiction is that it frees the author to take the controversial, politically charged issues and trends of the day and create a possible future based on exaggerations of such trends and in so doing present a compelling and critical argument for change.
Well NO ONE has ever done a better job than better Orwell in showing the possible nightmare and thus potential danger of a society without basic civil liberties and a government with complete and unchallenged control.
View all 44 comments. This was an up and down kind of read for me. There were parts that I really enjoyed and parts that I found extremely difficult to maneuver through.
I'm glad that I decided to pick it up and give it a go, because it's one that I've been curious about for a long time. I can definitely see why so many people love this book. It explores a lot of things that we see happening in the world today.
I can't say I'm leaving it as a massive fan, but I'm sure it's one that I'll continue to think about. View all 21 comments. Oh my God. I got the chills so many times toward the end of this book. It completely blew my mind. It managed to surpass my high expectations AND be nothing at all like I expected. Or in Newspeak "Double Plus Good. If I sound stunningly inarticulate at times in this review, I can't help it. My mind is completely fried. This book is like the dystopian Lord of the Rings , with its richly developed culture and economics, not to mention a fully YOU.
This book is like the dystopian Lord of the Rings , with its richly developed culture and economics, not to mention a fully developed language called Newspeak, or rather more of the anti-language, whose purpose is to limit speech and understanding instead of to enhance and expand it. The world-building is so fully fleshed out and spine-tinglingly terrifying that it's almost as if George travelled to such a place, escaped from it, and then just wrote it all down.
I read Fahrenheit over ten years ago in my early teens. At the time, I remember really wanting to read , although I never managed to get my hands on it. I'm almost glad I didn't. Though I would not have admitted it at the time, it would have gone over my head. Or at the very least, I wouldn't have been able to appreciate it fully. From the start, the author manages to articulate so many of the things I have thought about but have never been able to find a way to put into words.
Even in the first few chapters I found myself having to stop just to quietly consider the words of Mr Orwell. For instance, he talks about how the act of writing itself is a type of time travel. It is communicating with the future.
I write these words now, but others may not discover them for hours, weeks, or even years. For me, it is one time. For you the reader, it is an entirely different one. Just the thought that reading and writing could one day be outlawed just shivers my timbers.
I related to Winston so much in that way. I would have found a way to read or write. The politics and psychology of this novel run deep. The society in the book has no written laws, but many acts are punishable by death. The slogan of the Party War is Peace Individuality is frowned upon and could lead to being labeled a traitor to the Party. I also remember always wondering why the title was I was familiar with the concept of Big Brother and wondered why that wasn't the name of the book.
In the story, they don't actually know what year it is because so much of the past has been erased by the Ministry of Truth. It could very easily have been I think that makes the title more powerful.
Something as simple as the year or date is unknown to these people. They have to believe it is whatever day that they are told it is. They don't have the right to keep track.
Knowledge is powerful. Knowledge is necessary. But according to Big Brother. Ignorance is strength. These are usually things that distance me from a book and from the characters, but Orwell managed to keep me fully enthralled. He frequently talks in circles and ideas are often repeated but it is still intriguing, none the less. I must admit that I zoned out a bit while Winston was reading from The Book, but I was very fascinated by the culture.
Sometimes it seems as though the only way to really experience a characters emotions is through first person. This is not the case with this book, as it is written in third person; yet, I never failed to be encompassed in Winston's feelings.
George manages to ensure that the reader never feels disconnected from the events that are unfolding around them, with the exception of the beginning when Winston is just starting to become awakened. I developed a strong attachment to Winston and thrived on living inside his mind. I became a member of the Thought Police, hearing everything, feeling everything and last but not least, what the Thought Police are not allowed to do questioning everything.
I wasn't expecting a love story in this book, but the relationship between Julia and Winston was truly profound. I enjoyed it even more than I would have expected and thought the moments between them were beautiful. I wasn't sure whether he was going to eventually betray Julia to the Party or not, but I certainly teared up often when it came to their relationship.
George has an uncanny ability to get to the base of the human psyche, at times suggesting that we need to be at war for many different reasons, whether it's at war with ourselves or with others. That is one thing I have never understood: It seems that the main and recurring message in this book is about censorship and brainwashing. One, censorship, is limited and little exposure to ideas of the world; the other, brainwashing, is forced and too much exposure to a certain ideas. Both can be extremely dangerous.
Inside the ministry of Truth, he demonstrates the dangers of censorship by showing how the Party has completely rewritten the past by forging and abolishing documents and physical evidence. We also spend quite a bit of time with Winston in the Ministry of Love, where the brainwashing takes place. Those who commit thoughtcrime are tortured until they grow to love and obey Big Brother and serve only the interests of the Party. A common theme occurred to me throughout the book, although it wasn't necessarily referenced consistently.
The good of the many is more important than the good of the one. There are so many variables when it comes to this statement and for the most part it seems natural to say, "Of course, the many is more important than the one", but when inside Winston's head, all that I began to care about was his well-being and not if he was able to help disband or conquer the Party and Big Brother.
I just wanted him to be at peace. Whether or not the good of all is more important than that of the one, I can't answer. I think most people feel their own happiness is more important than the rest of the world's, and maybe that's part of the problem but it's also human nature.
I only wish we could all accept one other regardless of belief and culture and not try to force ways of life onto other people. Maybe I'm naive for thinking that way, but so be it.
I almost don't know what to think about this book. I'm not even sure my brain still works, or if it ever worked right at all. This book has a way of making you think you know exactly what you believe about everything and then turning you completely upside down and making you question whether or not you believe anything at all about anything. It's the strangest thing. Perhaps not. Everything about this book is captivating. It's groundbreaking yet at the same time, purely classic.
Ahead of its time, yet timeless. Basically, I think everyone should read at some point. You really have to be in the mood to work at reading it, though. But it's all worth it in the end.
It's absolutely incredible and I loved it. I don't re-read many books but this will definitely be one of them. It is a hard read, but more importantly, it is a MUST read. View all 34 comments. Cynical, scathing, and not without its flaws, this is still a stark, haunting glimpse at what could be. Freedom is slavery.
The closing lines still come to me sometimes and remind me of depths that I can only imagine. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. O cruel, needless misunderstanding!
O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. The scene that I most often think is when Winston and Julia are captured. Winston Smith cautiously and surreptitiously discovers the Brotherhood led by Goldstein and then learns all too well about O'Brien's duplicitous doublethink.
More than just a cautionary political tale, Orwell has described an ideological abyss into which we must not gaze; a glimpse at authoritarianism power plays to which the Nazis and Soviets never descended.
While we can appreciate the reminder to avoid authoritarianism and his prophetic vision, the idea that truth can be arranged through media is perhaps the most relevant for us today.
View all 31 comments. I've put off writing a review for because it's simply too daunting to do so. I liked even better after a second reading bumping it up from a 4 star to a 5 star because I think that, given the complexity of the future created by Orwell, multiple readings may be needed to take it all in.
I thought it was genius the first time and appreciated that genius even more the second time. Orwell had a daunting task: This future had to be its own complex, independent society, but it also had to be the natural end result of the totalitarianism Orwell witnessed in the communist and socialist regimes of World War II. That's part of the horror of It's easy to see how those in control can, through manipulation and propaganda, maintain that control simply for the sake of sating their own power hunger.
It's easy to say "no one could ever tell me what to think or what to do," but the Party's use of Big Brother, the Thought Police, the Two-Minute Hate, and Doublethink make it easy to see how a person's ability to think independently and discern fiction from reality can be eroded when there is no touchstone to fact. Revising and rewriting the past to make certain that Big Brother and the Party are always correct has effectively eliminated historical accuracy.
How can one think and reason in a society where everything is a fabrication? Another facet of that I find fascinating is the relationship between Winston and Julia. Winston claims Julia is a "rebel from the waist down," engaging in promiscuity and hedonistic indulgences forbidden by the Party.
She doesn't care about social injustice or defining "reality"; she only longs for what will make her feel good in the moment and only rebels far enough to get what she wants. By comparison, Winston is an intellectual rebel, constantly worrying over the issues of truth and freedom and the real, unvarnished past, but limited in how far he's willing to push the boundaries until he meets Julia.
Together, they make a complete rebellion--physical and mental, but apart they find themselves impotent to stand up to the Party.
Cross posted at This Insignificant Cinder View all 17 comments. The novel is set in Airstrip One, formerly Great Britain, a province of the superstate Oceania, whose residents are victims of perpetual war, omnipresent government surveillance and public manipulation.
Oceania's political ideology, euphemistically named English Socialism shortened to "Ingsoc" in Newspeak, the government's invented langua Oceania's political ideology, euphemistically named English Socialism shortened to "Ingsoc" in Newspeak, the government's invented language is enforced by the privileged, elite Inner Party.
Via the "Thought Police", the Inner Party persecutes individualism and independent thinking, which are regarded as "thoughtcrimes". View all 6 comments. Nov 09, Leo. Is Orwell turning in his grave? Does his epitaph read. Don't say I never told you so! Which pigeon hole? What label? What career? When a car driver loses control of the vehicle and strays from the path that was ahead, the car careers off the road. One might crash. One is no longer on the journey one originally set out on.
One is lost. And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests.
Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit.
Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen.
From the table drawer he took out a penholder, a bottle of ink, and a thick, quarto-sized blank book with a red back and a marbled cover. For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves.
By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen.
It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had suggested to him the thing that he was now about to do. It was a peculiarly beautiful book. Its smooth creamy paper, a little yellowed by age, was of a kind that had not been manufactured for at least for- ty years past.
He could guess, however, that the book was much older than that. He had seen it lying in the window of a frowsy little junk-shop in a slummy quarter of the town just what quarter he did not now remember and had been stricken immediately by an overwhelming desire to possess it.
He had given a quick glance up and down the street and then had slipped inside and bought the book for two dollars fifty. At the time he was not conscious of wanting it for any particular purpose. He had carried it guiltily home in his briefcase. Even with nothing written in it, it was a compromising possession. The thing that he was about to do was to open a diary. This was not illegal nothing was illegal, since there were no longer any laws , but if detected it was reasonably certain that it would be punished by death, or at least by twenty- five years in a forced-labour camp.
Winston fitted a nib into the penholder and sucked it to get the grease off. The pen was an archaic instrument, seldom used even for signatures, and he had procured one, furtively and with some difficulty, simply because of a feeling that the beautiful creamy paper deserved to be written on with a real nib instead of being scratched with an ink-pencil. Actually he was not used to writing by hand.
Apart from very short notes, it was usu- al to dictate everything into the speak-write which was of course impossible for his present purpose. He dipped the pen into the ink and then faltered for just a second.
A trem- or had gone through his bowels. To mark the paper was the decisive act. In small clumsy letters he wrote: April 4th, He sat back. A sense of complete helplessness had de- scended upon him. To begin with, he did not know with any certainty that this was It must be round about that date, since he was fairly sure that his age was thirty-nine, and he believed that he had been born in or ; but it was never possible nowadays to pin down any date within a year or two.
For whom, it suddenly occurred to him to wonder, was he writing this diary? For the future, for the unborn. For the first time the magnitude of what he had undertaken came home to him. How could you communicate with the future?