1) Nineteen Eighty-Four
First, I'll mention that quite a few books have made an impact on my life. I'm not going to put them all together, or I'll end up writing a bloody story about the stories I've read, then possibly end up comparing, contrasting, pontificating similarities, and.. well, it'd be a very long post, and with all the apologies thrown around, I've figured people don't like 'em long.

Anyway, on to Nineteen Eighty-Four, by Eric Arthur Blair George Orwell.

Back in my GCSE school days, we were forced to read George Orwell's Animal Farm, and to learn the meaning behind every single sentence, and commit one or two chapters to memory, much like many other people here were, I'm sure. Now, as much as I enjoyed the book, and the message behind it, and the accompanying crash-course in Contemporary Russian Revolutionary history, I didn't enjoy the force-feeding of information, nor the subsequent regurgitation under exam conditions. But, this is the education system, and I had to obey.

So, it was with Animal Farm that I first got my teeth into Orwell's work. After my exams, I decided to look into some more, and I found Nineteen Eighty-Four. I'd heard of it before, of course, and I was vaguely aware of its general dystopian theme, but I'd never read it. And I wasn't ready for the depressingly bleak story that lay ahead. The morales to that tale were numerous, and hard-hitting.

Perhaps it was because it was the first book I'd read for leisure since leaving forced-reading education. Or maybe it's just powerful.

The book has made me distrustful of humans. I came to realise that we're all deceptive, plotting, scheming creatures, and that even the most precious of our morales, standards and beliefs will crumble when faced with threat.

We are also capable of the greatest betrayal. O'Brien, the utter bastard, with his honeypot for catching dissenters, in order to crush their soul, has probably made me more wary of relationships in which I need to trust the other person, than any number of bad relationships could.

And the emotion at the end of the book.. what is it? Am I glad that Winston's suffering is over? Do I feel sorry for him? Am I angry at him?

Or is it deeper? Am I reflecting more on the millions of people who just get swept up by the norm? Celebrity culture, wild patriotism, the youths who hate because they hate, the people who'll eat low-cal foods because "low-cal = good" has been drummed into their brain?

Moreso than Animal Farm, Nineteen Eighty-Four has given me a political eye. It has- perhaps ironically- made me a fan of the principles of Glasnost & Perestroika (Гла́сность и Перестройка), as so beloved by Mikhail Gorbachev.

I'll stop here, though, as this is probably longer than it needs to be.

Apologies for length; but at least you can trust me on it.
( Thinker, Thu 15 May 2008, 20:14, 2 replies)

Just finished 1984
Yesterday; O'Briens betrayal made me so angry, after waiting so long for something to go vaguely right for Winston, for O'Brien (and the shopkeeper) to do that made me question my faith in humanity!
(gin'll fix it, Fri 16 May 2008, 12:02, closed)

The part that still makes me cry like a baby
is Winston's flashback to when he was a boy, and his mother buys him a Snakes and Ladders game, and he's sulky and not interested in it, but she encourages him and they have fun playing it. Then he steals the chocolate he was meant to share with his sister and...fuck, I really am crying as I write this.

Never has anything in a book affected me so emotionally as that bit does. It's so tragic, so human and so well-written that it just sticks deep into me every time I even think about it. The selfish, unknowing boy, the loving mother trying to do the best for her children through difficult times, and the horror of what happens as a result...it's just unbelievably powerful.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 16 May 2008, 12:22, closed)