I actually read Catch-22 right before the semester started, and I'm still surprised at my colossal laziness at not blogging about it. I freakin' loved it. I mean, I loved it. I should have written about it the minute I closed it, when it was still fresh and honeymooney. Maybe I'll post it after this one, once I get Nineteen Eighty Four out of the way. And, without further ado: Nineteen Eighty Four!
Nineteen Eighty Four (Or is it 1984? Just don't be confused with "the greatest album of all time," said to me by my husband every time I mention its name).
by George Orwell
Quick synopsis: Oceania is a society that is run by the Party, a Big Brother, socialistic, totalitarian government that oppresses and completely controls its inhabitants. Winston Smith tries to rebel against it, but... well, if I were to tell you what happens, you wouldn't need to read it, now would you.
Alright, so. 1984. It's one of those novels that's "out there" for me--it's based on ideas, concepts, theories, what-ifs. It's futuristic, one that requires abstract thinking and feeling. And while I'm not opposed to this style of storytelling (heck, I loved Farenheit 451, and I'm generally open to the idea of science-fiction), I found the story of 1984 to be bland, unconvincing, and mostly over the top. In fact, this book enraged me.
I guess I just don't care for political agendas disguised as stories.
I didn't find sympathy in the characters; I didn't care for them one bit. I didn't find the "love" between Winston and Julia believable. I couldn't understand the motivations behind Wintson's actions, nor did I understand the purpose of the Party as a whole. Sure, they're Big Brother--thought control and socialism and all that. But what's beneath that? Why are they like this, and how did it get like this?
Maybe I missed all of these things. Maybe my skimming got the best of me. But I don't think so. I attribute my negative feelings toward the novel to Orwell's writing. He's been known for saying "avoid using similes and metaphors," and I certainly can see he sticks to his guns. The writing is drab, void of anything glowing or heart-stopping; it's brute, pale, and something I'd see from a high schooler. If the writing were more poetic--if there were more use of imagery, both the lyrical and narrative voices, if it constructed language in a way that I'd never heard before, maybe then I'd feel convinced of its decisions. Maybe then I'd get behind Winston and Julia's romp, maybe then I'd feel the "love" they feel for one another and maybe then I could immerse myself in Ingsoc and the Party, and maybe then I could truly feel what it was like to live in a place like Oceania.
Come to think of it--maybe that was the whole purpose of the stale style. Maybe I wasn't supposed to feel anything because the members of this society don't feel anything? Certainly that could be an argument. But when Winston has a desire to rebel (and what this desire is founded upon, I'm not too sure--sure, the injustice to his parents and sister, but--where do I see that?!), that means he feels something, and as a reader, I want to feel what he feels. That's one of the reasons why I read!
If any of you can argue this point, please, by all means. I welcome it. I want to like these books. I want to say, yeah, that is one of the greatest books of all time, and here's why. But right now, I can't. Maybe I judged it too quickly and my bias was never pushed aside. Maybe I was too distracted each time I read it. Maybe I need to read it again in a few years and then I'll be ready for it. Who knows.
I will say this, however. I did come upon somewhat of an epiphany as I was reading it. I mentioned earlier that I'm not too fond of books that are written solely for the intention of a political agenda. Sure, I like politics (somewhat), and to a certain extent I find them interesting--but when it's masked as a story, when I feel the author's voice coming through as his "characters," when his characters are thinly veiled versions of what he's both for and against, I feel cheapened, and I'm not buying it.
With that said, I do think this political and social charge is why this book is regarded as canonical. This book, regardless of its writing style or not, says something. It says something about society, or what society could be if it doesn't change its ways. It says something about humanity, how ugly it can be, how lifeless it can become if it's overruled by power. It reminds us to be curious, to remember, to live, to exist, to discover, to evolve, to rebel and be the pioneer you think you are to change you want to see. It deals with opposites, and in that, I felt a yearning for the things that this society is deprived of (in fact, this was the only feeling I felt while reading it). Privacy! Fun! True love! True memories! Significance! Independence! Good literature reminds us what life is all about, and weirdly, through this book's deprivations, I'm reminded exactly.
And that's what I'll tell people when (if) they ask why this book is regarded so highly. I'll put aside the rage I feel for its lack of beautiful writing and its lack of sympathetic characters and discuss what makes it so remarkable: it's because of what they feel when they realize the comforts of their lives and their society are no longer an option. Even those who may think their country is already in a fallen state and could not get any worse would feel pleasure and a strong sense of gratitude that it is nothing like Oceania. 1984 will always be relevant and will always live on, metaphors or not.
