Thursday night is Book Club and this month's book is Brave New World. I am looking forward to the discussion. It was written in 1932 about at the middle of Huxley's prolific career. The tone of the book is so different from Nineteen Eighty-Four and yet the horror is the same. At the end the protagonist is defeated by the contrived society by which he is surrounded. In Huxley's letter to Orwell he says, "The lust for power can be just as completely satisfied by suggesting people into loving their servitude as by flogging and kicking them into obedience." Roman bread and circuses, indeed.
I love to read an author who sends me to the dictionary and crafts sentences that stand as miniature works of art. The free and liberal use of Shakespeare's works bring a powerful tone to the story. Some of the quotes stand apart as Savage rehearses them aloud or to himself, some are blended directly into his dialogue or stream of thought and make clear his world view. Shakespeare wrote many tragedies and you can feel the impending doom of the character as the number of quotes increases.
When I first read this as a teenager, I did not like it at all. It scared me and I felt it was wrong for people in a Utopia to be so mean. Reading it again as an adult was a good experience. I still think it is wrong to condition people into amorality, and the vision of the world still scares me, but this time I know that it is not real. As a teenager, just like Savage, I felt the fiction to be true.
This is a book that deserves to be read more than it is, and I am glad we included it in this year's reading list.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Took an inventory of my gadgets today; several desktops, a Nintendo DS Lite (pink), Motorola cellphone, Palm Tungsten, Freeloader solar unit, ColdHeat soldering tool, assorted cordless phones, a Dustbuster, 2 weather radios, DVD player, digital camera, router, car-only XM radio.
Quite the collection and there are probably others, but what is missing? A "real" radio or a clock or a watch. I could use at least one of each here in the house, but just over a year ago the only one I had was the Nintendo. It had been in my purse during the tornado. The watch I wore that night, and the cellphone I had both got soaked during the initial crawling out and uncovering the car and cats. I just simply got tired of shopping. I have almost forgotten the radio programs I used to listen to or the feel of a watch on my wrist. I sat and thought today "what do we really need?" I guess only one communication device might be the answer. It is great to be able to listen to the news in the car and play games and walk around the house while I chat. The weather radios were gifts from the Red Cross and Fire Dept for the survivors and are welcome.
I do know people who have far less electronic involvement in their lives and their point of view is often different than mine. Not political or social views, but of how to spend time. I have noticed that people without TVs or computers or other connection gadgets tend to have watches. At least the ones I know. I miss my watch and still look at my arm for the time and then have to stop and think about where to find out the time. Most of the computer units I see during the day are not fully functional and rarely have the correct time. At home I still tend to look toward the wall where the large rooster clock was before the tornado. I sit and stare for a few seconds at the blank wall and then try to think of how to find out the time.
In the days following the tornado there was only sun time. As the weeks passed, I only saw the time during work, and used my cellphone as my alarm clock. It was also my weather device, my solitaire game and news channel. We had no television service in the temporary house, only the DVD player, small TV set and a few DVDs. We were totally detached from any broadcast schedule and really except for the few morning hours I worked we had no schedule at all. We just survived. Since I still rarely know the time outside of a work appointment it is hard for me to judge if this is a good thing or a bad. My Nintendo does not seem to recognize Daylight Savings Time (small loss) so I often am fuzzy on the precise time. One cannot objectively judge from within the situation, and yet I am comfortable here. Like when we were small children time is whatever we feel it is at the moment. If I lost the majority of my gadgets again today, would I even miss them after a few days? I use them all most days, and really love some of them. The Dustbuster is great! Am I hiding behind them or simply allowing them to facilitate my life?
One of the kittens is helping me type, and The Hunt for Red October is playing on the DVD. Going to sea is to load up humans in one giant multi-layer gadget and enter the domain that we have never conquered. We gain comfort from our dials and charts, the toggles and knobs that we control, comfort in the face of the ocean that we cannot control. Like lying under a roof half torn away by the wind listening to the rain and playing solitaire on my cellphone with the blue lights flashing in the night as the search for more bodies continue. I think my gadgets are indeed my friends.
Quite the collection and there are probably others, but what is missing? A "real" radio or a clock or a watch. I could use at least one of each here in the house, but just over a year ago the only one I had was the Nintendo. It had been in my purse during the tornado. The watch I wore that night, and the cellphone I had both got soaked during the initial crawling out and uncovering the car and cats. I just simply got tired of shopping. I have almost forgotten the radio programs I used to listen to or the feel of a watch on my wrist. I sat and thought today "what do we really need?" I guess only one communication device might be the answer. It is great to be able to listen to the news in the car and play games and walk around the house while I chat. The weather radios were gifts from the Red Cross and Fire Dept for the survivors and are welcome.
I do know people who have far less electronic involvement in their lives and their point of view is often different than mine. Not political or social views, but of how to spend time. I have noticed that people without TVs or computers or other connection gadgets tend to have watches. At least the ones I know. I miss my watch and still look at my arm for the time and then have to stop and think about where to find out the time. Most of the computer units I see during the day are not fully functional and rarely have the correct time. At home I still tend to look toward the wall where the large rooster clock was before the tornado. I sit and stare for a few seconds at the blank wall and then try to think of how to find out the time.
In the days following the tornado there was only sun time. As the weeks passed, I only saw the time during work, and used my cellphone as my alarm clock. It was also my weather device, my solitaire game and news channel. We had no television service in the temporary house, only the DVD player, small TV set and a few DVDs. We were totally detached from any broadcast schedule and really except for the few morning hours I worked we had no schedule at all. We just survived. Since I still rarely know the time outside of a work appointment it is hard for me to judge if this is a good thing or a bad. My Nintendo does not seem to recognize Daylight Savings Time (small loss) so I often am fuzzy on the precise time. One cannot objectively judge from within the situation, and yet I am comfortable here. Like when we were small children time is whatever we feel it is at the moment. If I lost the majority of my gadgets again today, would I even miss them after a few days? I use them all most days, and really love some of them. The Dustbuster is great! Am I hiding behind them or simply allowing them to facilitate my life?
One of the kittens is helping me type, and The Hunt for Red October is playing on the DVD. Going to sea is to load up humans in one giant multi-layer gadget and enter the domain that we have never conquered. We gain comfort from our dials and charts, the toggles and knobs that we control, comfort in the face of the ocean that we cannot control. Like lying under a roof half torn away by the wind listening to the rain and playing solitaire on my cellphone with the blue lights flashing in the night as the search for more bodies continue. I think my gadgets are indeed my friends.
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