Orwell’s 1984

I have just finished reading George Orwell’s 1984 for the second time. The first time I read it was probably in 1984 at 15 years old and when some impetus to read it again came along, I realized that it would be very different reading it as an adult. The impetus is that my youngest brother, Ian, has joined the LaRouche Youth Movement and in doing some reading about the group, I see that 1984 is a book that the group discourages members from reading, at least according to a former member. Since I’ve also done some reading of LaRouche’s work, reading something his group sees as dangerous seems like a good counterpoint.

As it turns out, there are many things I can say about 1984, so I’ll likely write a few posts about it in the coming days. The first is that it was, in fact, a very different read as an adult. This was especially true because I had some familiarity with the story through dim memories of the book and the movie. Unlike what I seem to recall about my first reading, I found the basic story a little slow and couldn’t wait for first Winston’s reading of the heretical history book, then his capture and subsequent breaking. It was the political discussion that I found intriguing, not the underlying love story. I also found the character of Julia much less compelling, as I was much more aware that she was far less a traitor to the Party than Winston. Her tendency to fall asleep or grow bored any time Winston began to talk about more serious topics than their (treasonous) affair showed she was far more conditioned and a far shallower person. I don’t recall picking up on that as a teenager and I don’t think I had a depth of experience that would allow me to really understand the political elements.

I also read Aldus Huxley’s Brave New World as a freshman in college, and had done a very well received book report on it for an English Composition class. I think I should go back and reread that one as well.