a tilting of air

Disclaimer: This post is being written around 2:30am. I’ve been up since 1:00am. Anything delusional is only a byproduct of insomnia – take it with a dose of humor. For those of you who want to forge ahead – cheers!

A few weeks back, I was discussing dystopian literature with my two oldest children, centering on Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World, and 1984. Since the novel I’m trying (a weak word) to write is dystopian in nature, I thought it would be good to reread two of them, finally read 1984 (…I know…), and add Parable of the Sower, by Octavia E. Butler, to the mix.

I read Fahrenheit 451, and published a post about it, here. While Bradbury at least offered us a nod toward hope, Orwell’s nod is there…if you look for it…but it’s quite a thick layer of gloom to pry open to get there (spoiler alert; can’t talk about 1984 without talking about the ending…so if you haven’t read it and don’t want plot points given away, this isn’t the post you’re looking for.

The ending. The ending! I wanted to reach into the audio book and punch him in the digital bits, just to wake him up. The last lines of the novel are as such:

“But it was alright, everything was alright, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.”

After finally getting up the courage to fight against the horrific control of Big Brother, the authority used his own fears against him, bringing him to the point of betraying his only love, and then ultimately crushing him. He gave up. The fight was too big for him. Give him his gin and a table at the cafe, and he’ll be just fine.

1984 made me sick to my stomach at times. I was ready to shut it off…stop listening…my own little rebellion against the power of words. But I couldn’t. I had to hope that it would end well. <sigh>

After a bit of internal thought-juggling, here are three ideas that stick with me…

1. I can’t blame Winston; please pass the gin. Ok. I haven’t been in Winston’s position, exactly, and I haven’t experienced a totalitarian government. Crazy? Yes! But not totalitarian. However, I would say that…it’s easy to give up. It’s easy…and understandable…to just smile, drink your gin, and watch the parade go by. Sometimes, fighting against the tide is just too exhausting…and so you hold on to as much of yourself as you can to stay afloat. Maybe you’ve been there, too…whether in terms of our recent social and political conflicts, family matters, an ugly situation at work… I can relate. I can’t judge Winston because the log in my own eye is blinding.
2. One person’s doom may be another person’s delight. Reminiscent of today, where you hear some individuals from one political ideology call another from a different ideology, “fascist,” and vice-versa. Frankly, they may both be right and never want to admit it. Power is a thing that can corrupt the hearts and minds of those who wield it – and their followers – to the point of not even realizing they’ve been corrupted. To tell them they’ve been corrupted is folly. As one passage in the book indicates, “What can you do, thought Winston, against the lunatic who is more intelligent than yourself; who gives your arguments a fair hearing and simply persists in his lunacy?” And…generalizations are never fair…so the broad brush in this can be used to help draw attention to the picture, but the finer brushes add the depth and nuance that make it interesting, and more true.
3. How we fight matters. As Winston was waking up and getting ready to fight back, I was thrilled for him. I wanted him to win. I wanted Big Brother to topple. That is, until he met those who were fighting back (or at least the faction that Orwell chose to share with us). I won’t go into description of what they expected of Winston and Julia (the woman he loved…and then betrayed…) to do. It’s inhuman. Fight inhumanity with inhumanity is never right. Fighting hate with hate is pointless. Humans fight dirty. We’ve been given gifts that allow us to fire both cannons and words in ways that are equally as destructive. As I kept processing how the “fight back” was to unfold, I kept thinking, “Love your enemies and do good to those who persecute you.” Jesus fought, but not in the way we think of it – and that frustrated people. But He was, of course, perfectly consistent. He spoke truth with love…and was willing to die for it.
4. There is hope. Big Brother and “his” cronies had to fight really hard to go after just one person. Winston gave them a run for their money. He wasn’t alone. The few who sit at the center of power are greatly outnumbered by the masses. The masses often forget this. Please note, this is not a nudge from little ol’ me for an uprising. You’ll never see me at a demonstration or a march for a cause. You’ll never see me speak out against one party or another (nor will you hear or see me speak in favor of them). I’m not a “fight the power” kind of guy. What I am saying is that…I wanted Winston to sip his gin, watch others celebrate, and then persist in his desire to not becoming a puppet for the Party…that maybe there’s be a 1984: Part II where Winston gets his chance again. Short of that, I think it’s wise for anyone in power to realize they have a responsibility to others. As a leader…even as a father, it’s not about what my employees or children do for me, but what I do for them…and to keep checking myself for blind spots and where my “lunacy” might be settling in.

Dystopian literature is sometimes hard to digest. I had to walk away from 1984 a couple times because it made my stomach church (maybe felt a little too familiar at times). What I’ve appreciated about my journey in reading it and now trying to write it, is that it can be such a great teacher. It’s a warning shot for which I am grateful. Pass the gin.