Reaction to Reading: George Orwell's 1984
Oct. 28th, 2017 12:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhodrymavelyneI started writing a review of George Orwell’s 1984, realized I’d included huge spoilers in them.
I’ve split the review in two to avoid ruining the book for future readers. Part of it remains at Goodreads. The other half is here.
It’s rarely that react with such negativity and enthusiasm to the same book.
Some of the moments of hope on Winston’s part I emphasized with. The world was a horrific nightmare in which he had no one to confide in, but his forbidden diary.
Other moments of hope filled me with even more misery than his despair. The relationship with Julia felt hollow and empty. It was defined by sex. She was defined by sex. Winston talked to her, but was unable to communicate with her, not really. Perhaps this was because of the patriarchal prejudices of the time when Orwell wrote this. There could be no meetings of the mind with Julia. Neither Winston nor Orwell could get past her femaleness. She equaled sex and the delight of commiting sexcrime.
I found my lip curling as I read. Bits of character development trickled in here and there, but Julia was a constant return to sex and the stereotype of femininity. The sexcrime without intimacy left me feeling bored, for all the danger. The sensuality which accompanies intimacy wasn’t there, leaving me unsatisfied with this relationship.
The intimacy comes later in a dark, disturbing, yet compelling form. It appears during Winston’s capture and interrogation. O’Brien is there for Winston, listening to him. He communicates with his prisoner, answering all the questions he’s ever wanted to ask. He’s father and teacher to Winston, being there for him like no one ever has. Only O’Brien never stops being the Party, the mouthpiece of Big Brother, the tyrant. He acknowledges tyranny, hatred, and many things we regard as evil. He uses love and understanding as much as terror to get Winston.
In the end, O’Brien gets Winston more truly than any boy ever got the girl. The end gives the reader a sinister sense of happily ever after that’s terrifying.
I’m still marveling at how ticked off I am, while my jaw drops. It could be the book deserved more than three stars. Angry as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to give it more than three stars.
Go figure.
I’ve split the review in two to avoid ruining the book for future readers. Part of it remains at Goodreads. The other half is here.
It’s rarely that react with such negativity and enthusiasm to the same book.
Some of the moments of hope on Winston’s part I emphasized with. The world was a horrific nightmare in which he had no one to confide in, but his forbidden diary.
Other moments of hope filled me with even more misery than his despair. The relationship with Julia felt hollow and empty. It was defined by sex. She was defined by sex. Winston talked to her, but was unable to communicate with her, not really. Perhaps this was because of the patriarchal prejudices of the time when Orwell wrote this. There could be no meetings of the mind with Julia. Neither Winston nor Orwell could get past her femaleness. She equaled sex and the delight of commiting sexcrime.
I found my lip curling as I read. Bits of character development trickled in here and there, but Julia was a constant return to sex and the stereotype of femininity. The sexcrime without intimacy left me feeling bored, for all the danger. The sensuality which accompanies intimacy wasn’t there, leaving me unsatisfied with this relationship.
The intimacy comes later in a dark, disturbing, yet compelling form. It appears during Winston’s capture and interrogation. O’Brien is there for Winston, listening to him. He communicates with his prisoner, answering all the questions he’s ever wanted to ask. He’s father and teacher to Winston, being there for him like no one ever has. Only O’Brien never stops being the Party, the mouthpiece of Big Brother, the tyrant. He acknowledges tyranny, hatred, and many things we regard as evil. He uses love and understanding as much as terror to get Winston.
In the end, O’Brien gets Winston more truly than any boy ever got the girl. The end gives the reader a sinister sense of happily ever after that’s terrifying.
I’m still marveling at how ticked off I am, while my jaw drops. It could be the book deserved more than three stars. Angry as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to give it more than three stars.
Go figure.
