Forgive me, but this is rather long…
I’ve been reading quite a bit (thanks to this blog). After I finished The Second Coming
, I read the following in quick succession:
Franz Wisner – Honeymoon With My Brother
Peter Kramer – Against Depression
Terence Real – I Don’t Want To Talk About It
Mary Oliver – New And Selected Poems – Volume One
Mary Oliver – A Poetry Handbook
Neil Peart – Ghost Rider
Susan Isaacs – Compromising Positions
Emily Bronte – Wuthering Heights
Nick Hornby – High Fidelity
George Orwell – Nineteen Eighty-Four
Lionel Shriver – We Need to Talk About Kevin
Carol Shields – The Stone Diaries
A.S. Byatt – Possession
Anne Lamott – Bird By Bird
Anne Lamott – Blue Shoe
Jane Austen – Pride and Prejudice
Andrew Greer – The Confessions of Max Tivoli
I’ve enjoyed getting back into the reading habit. It’s been decades since I’ve read anything but technical papers and reports (and poetry…always poetry). Again, I thank all of you for inspiring me
It is 1984
that I wish to speak to (although the reading list, as a whole, is pretty good). I’d read this book about a half-dozen times before. This last read affected me deeply.
I realized how much one’s perspective changes over time. I first read 1984
in high school. I was attending an all-boy’s Catholic school (in the “Honors” class). Anyway, we read this book and argued its meanings vigorously. Oh, how we debated Nazism, Stalinism, European Socialism, Marxism, Maoism, Capitalism, etc., etc.! We knew that 1984
could never happen here in America. We were full to bursting with book smarts and testosterone. We felt our opinions had gravitas
. We considered ourselves to be thoughtful intellectuals. My God, we had even begun to shave!!! Turns out we were just downy-whiskered children. We understood nothing.
I picked up this book again in my late twenties. I had been to the Soviet Union. There I met my paternal grandfather for the one and only time. You see, he had been exiled to the Russian gulag
slave-labor prison system for 20 years. He spent several years in Moscow’s infamous Lefortovo prison being tortured and beaten repeatedly (he became epileptic as a result). It was in Lithuania that I heard about aunts, uncles and cousins who had starved to death in the frozen Siberian wilderness. I had people hush me on the tram when I offered an opinion about what I saw all around me. I saw the “Dollar Stores” (stores that only accepted U.S. currency…i.e
., money from tourists) with shelves creaking from the ponderous mass of merchandise…and the empty bakery and butcher shops that supposedly offered goods to the average citizen. I saw long lines in front of shops. I saw abandoned churches. I saw political posters and slogans everywhere. I slept in a room where the radio played constantly…eavesdropping on my every conversation (the hotel guests and staff had warned me the rooms were bugged). I saw frustration, hopelessness and fear. My perspective had changed. George Orwell was right. He had brilliantly foreseen the motives, means and methods that would be used by those in power to stay in power. I finally understood what that meant in human terms. I had witnessed the reality of what George Orwell had foreseen.
It wasn’t politics that drew me back to this book. No, I’d had my fill of doublethink
and the realities of power. I was haunted by the final vision of Winston and Julia sitting in two iron chairs with nothing to say to each other…I wanted to revisit their love story.
I’ve come to understand that George Orwell (Eric Arthur Blair, actually) saw the world with an exceptionally keen eye. He was not writing about a particular regime. He understood universal truths. He wrote that there are three kinds of people in this world: the High, the Middle and the Low. I’ve come to understand the truth of that. I look at the world, and my own United States, and I see how the struggle manifests itself. We live in a time of doublethink
here within our very shores. Orwell understood power and control even better than Karl Rove. But Orwell wasn’t just an observant critic. He understood that, while we will always be subjected to the whims and the grotesqueries of the High’s, our human relationships are our only salvation. Our only refuge against the horrors of the world is our basic humanity. Love is our only sanctuary. I’ve come to understand what I think Orwell was trying to communicate. Only love can protect and save us. That “what mattered were individual relationships, and a completely helpless gesture, an embrace, a tear, a word spoken to a dying man, could have value in itself
I see now that Orwell wrote a cautionary tale. The world is harsh. Power is cruel. All we have is love. Betray love, reject love and you are surely doomed.Postscript: I asked Buddha when we’d have another round of book nominations and selections. He expressed his dismay that this blog seems moribund. The very idea saddens me. Granted, I’m being selfish here, but I’ve enjoyed reading the selected books and the resulting commentary. Maybe Ed’s right. Maybe there is no longer any interest among the reading runners to continue this blog. The only way we’ll find out is if people speak up. So, if you’d like to continue and contribute, let your feelings be known. Post a comment or send Ed an email expressing interest. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.