Connor’s Comments (group member since Oct 21, 2016)

Connor’s comments from the Arters AP Literature 2016-17 group.

Most of us consider the era we live in to be ordinary. Sure, we have strong objections to many things, and many of us go as far as to remark that this is in some way the “wrong” time for us to be alive. But hyperbole aside—for this is hyperbole—our era is essentially normal to our perceptions. It is what we have grown up with and, believe it or not, all we have ever truly known. To the rest of history, however, our era is irregular in but one fundamentally important way: pace. From ancient times to the end of the Renaissance, the evolution of societal structure over time has kept to a minimum. But the longer humanity’s story grew, the faster we developed, and by the time we reached the twentieth century, time itself seemed ready for a catharsis of sorts. And it seems that certain people were aware of this.
George Orwell lived through some of the most tumultuous events that ever had to do with our species, and his understanding of it all was deep enough to produce a work of literature that continues to astonish each new generation. His book 1984 deserves its status as the quintessential dystopian novel, and is a true example of the overused term “must-read.” In the book, we are shown the greatest collective fear of the West: the realities of an oppressive, all-powerful authoritarian government juxtaposed against glimpses of a bygone free world. In doing this, Orwell has created something that belongs to the western world, yet simultaneously remains distinctly his own, which I think is at the core of what we crave from all art.
The story wastes no time establishing the protagonist, Winston Smith, as a common person, someone the reader can relate to. The man lives a lonely life, a member yet no strong supporter of the single political group, the Party. As we are introduced to Big Brother, the all-seeing face of the government, and the oh-so benevolent “Ministries,” we quickly grow weary with Winston of the cramped lifestyle enforced by the establishment. This solidarity serves to make the feeling of isolation from other, more enthusiastic party members even stronger. And so is the book’s generally dismal atmosphere set in place from the get-go.
But it is from this dreary mood that the surprise of hope springs, and one really feels overjoyed by the development that a beautiful woman Winston once believed to be a spy is in love with him. Her image, which was previously understood to be the image of a dangerously loyal party member, is thus rewritten into “Julia,” whose lightheartedness and warmth, as well as opposition to the Party, renders her an absolute ally in Winston’s struggle against the state. Through Winston’s eyes we come to love her too, and the contrast between her free-spirited nature and Winston’s more serious attitude gives the solitary couple a lively dynamic.
It is the book’s ending that defines its legacy. Perhaps it seems inevitable that the two are seized by the Thought Police in the end for their “crimes,” but this fact takes nothing away from the abysmal dread we feel when Winston discovers that the Party has been listening to all of his acts of defiance with Julia. If you are not inclined to appreciate stories without happy endings, this is definitely not the book for you. Orwell chooses to conclude things in perhaps the most devastating way to the reader, leaving us feeling almost as if we have lost a piece of our own identity.
The character development in the book is certainly there, but it is more difficult to get a grasp of than in other novels. This is because it is not the main point. Orwell knew that Winston needed to be convincing as an average yet fairly intelligent citizen to whom the reader could relate, and that was the extent of it. His thoughts on the nature of his society and the “old world” exist to mirror our own, not to provide a refreshing new personality. None of this detracts from the novel, however, as its groundbreaking aspects are found its setting and theme.
I strongly recommend this book, as its explorations of the relationship between man and society are worth taking part in. In fact, I myself feel that I have actually learned something from reading the fictional book. Its topic of focus is not a light one, and it should not be read with the expectation that it will elate you. But especially considering the direction of some of our own society’s developments over the years, 1984 provides a shocking perspective of what mankind can do to itself as a result of its entanglement in political ideology.

Nathan wrote: "Okay, so I don't know if anyone else has finished yet, but is anyone else getting the feeling that while the book definitely does nail a lot of modern society what with controlling the way people t..."

I always got the feeling that the book was more a warning than a prediction, so yes, I think it's safe to say many of the situations are...extravagant. And actually reading the book, I definitely got the feeling that the people who had recommended it to me were exaggerating the parallels between life in Oceania and life in our society just a LITTLE bit.

On that note, what do you guys think about this: Oceania is obviously rampantly authoritarian. But it's supposedly socialist. I feel like there are definite fascistic characteristics though, like extreme nationalism, scapegoating, and disregard for human rights. There are obviously socialistic characteristics, but it was just sort of confusing to me.

Nathan, Rielly and Connor are reading this.

Connor wrote: "Connor wrote: "I'm on page 20 of 198 in The Picture of Dorian Gray. I instantly love this book, but the fact that I'm saying that after reading only the very first chapter is making me a bit fearfu..."

I'm now on page 60 of 198 in The Picture of Dorian Gray. Following Dorian's and Henry's introduction, Basil has finished his latest portrait of Dorian. Dorian's first demonstration of Henry's influence on him is that he actually appreciates the beauty of the portrait, and of his own image. His growing self-awareness is somewhat off-putting, however, and he has an outburst over the prospect of his growing old vs the portrait's remaining beautiful.
Over the next week he doesn't associate with Basil, but rather visits Henry. We learn during one of their conversations that he has met an actress, Sibyl, with whom he has fallen in love, and the third chapter ends with the news that he will marry this girl he has known for a week. I fear for the sake of Dorian's mental stability...

Connor wrote: "I'm on page 20 of 198 in The Picture of Dorian Gray. I instantly love this book, but the fact that I'm saying that after reading only the very first chapter is making me a bit fearful of what's to ..."

I'm now on page 30 of 198 in The Picture of Dorian Gray. I feel like I could write so much about this book! And apparently I am going to.
Lord Henry, Basil's friend, has now met Dorian, an event the prospect of which Basil wasn't ecstatic about. And for his purposes, there was good reason not to be ecstatic about it. But Dorian has taken a liking to Henry as a matter of fact, and all the afternoon of their first acquaintance Henry has been spewing some of his ideologies at Dorian. While I can't say I agree with his ideas, Henry is certainly a curious personage, and his beliefs are very...morally neutral. For some reason I admire the stances he takes; they make it seem as if he is modeling the objectivity of nature itself as best he can. Anyway, if nothing else, he is right about Youth: it's most prominent quality is its fleetingness.

I'm on page 20 of 198 in The Picture of Dorian Gray. I instantly love this book, but the fact that I'm saying that after reading only the very first chapter is making me a bit fearful of what's to come. (I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the tendency of writers to deform the beauty in their works for the sake of art.) Anyway, I relate closely with Basil, the painter, who is described as an intellectual-type artist; he harbors an infatuation with a young man named Dorian Gray, and his feelings are something I can somewhat understand, given I've never experienced such a revolutionary infatuation as Basil has. But I've definitely experienced that kind of fascination with an individual that goes beyond brotherly love, sexual attraction or even romantic interest, straight to something I think only people with an artistic bent can understand (whether they realize they have this bent or not).
...Side note, and I'm being honest here, this formal air to my writing is just my natural style. I find that I can express my thoughts best if I can use this kind of frilly description.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde