Thursday, February 28, 2019
A Brave New World and Non-Violence
In the text, multiple examples make it clear that the World State's authority is not derived merely from force of arms. The World State appears to be post scarcity, and is economically structured upon consumption. Individuals are conditioned and frequently drugged so as to maintain their blindly ravenous consumerism. Would it be reasonable to say that the World State is a pacifistic society? Why or why not?
Let's Summarize with Bruce Dickinson
Inspired by the book, I think the lyrics do a good job of summarizing John's experience in the brave new world. It gives the sense of how different the world is in comparison to his expectations. Echoing the first lines at the end also brings the story full circle: some prior society had to die in order for the brave new world to arise, then that world ends up causing John's demise.
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Brave New Babies
"So you don't much like civilization, Mr. Savage."
“So you don’t much like civilization, Mr. Savage.”*
In grief, the reflections of endless, walking mirrors
distort and clarify in their ugliness —
boy after boy, twin after twin, surge forward with glee,
pouncing on happiness, not truth. No,
not truth. Happiness is a balm that cleanses
and eases the poison of Shakespearean beauty.
Civilization defends, controls, observes. Holidays
and hatred mingle in the unrest of mothers
and sons and soma.
Civilization has shouldered the burden of love,
cast it aside in the quest of many, of much,
of pleasure and lust and place. Savage
are the tears of loss, of bared lips and teeth
crying “Liberty!”
“It hasn’t been very good for truth, of course. But it’s been very good for happiness.”**
This bold, searching world, a new world,
is heady. Delicious in manner and rules. Solid,
quiet - shared. The selfish are gone, consumed
by distance and science. Only the decanted remain. Willful
and practical are the citizens of the new world.
Boldness is sameness, hatched by design.
Helm holders linger over the possibilities: truth. Beauty. Happiness.
To choose is to know of Othello, orthodoxy, duty.
Duty to station and breeding above all else. The castes are cast
like concrete pillars,
immovable and always. To wish
for more is to ignore the perfection of Utopia. Why strive
for the punishment of oneness when all are within
fingertips’ reach to grasp and hold and trade?
Mr. Savage, take the whip, take beauty, take your words, words, words.
Civilization is paving a new world.
* (Huxley, 197)
** (Huxley, 205)
Okonkwo and John Chat
Two men, John and Okonkwo, hang side by side on a charred tree. Others hang around them but not close enough to talk to.
"All I wanted was silence," Said John.
"And all I wanted was to live life as it had always been lived," Said Okonkwo. A slight breeze rustled them. "I've spent a long time here," continued Okonkwo, "I've reflected on a lot that has happened. Nothing else to do, especially when you remind me, white skin and all, of the Christians who came to my village. Those destroyers of culture made ferrets of my people."
"At least they weren't made into lambs of slaughter," John said staring at the eternal setting sun. "Or was it rising," John thought to himself, "war led them to that fate."
"I wrestled with many people in my life. I guess its fate I wrestle with the past while I hang on this tree," Okonkwo said strumming the rope. He sighed, "have you ever killed anyone before," he asked. John looked up at the rope he was hanging from. Okonkwo nodded in understanding. "I killed my son... adopted son, but the blood of the bond is thicker than the water of the womb," said Okonkwo. John compared the words to what he had seen, what he knew.
John still fidgeted with the rope around his neck hoping to find a comfortable position but could never find it. Okonkwo merely swayed, with the tree branch they hung on creaking slightly.
"And what if no bond was ever made. What if no silence existed to let you think," asked John.
"Then I guess we wouldn't be here, would we?" Okonkwo said with finality.
"No, we wouldn't," John said back. They hung there and thought, John let Shakespeare play in his mind and Okonkwo continued to reflect on what was.
Chained to the Rhythm
I think this one pretty much speaks for itself in how it is related to Brave New World, and their society filled with having fun, partying, and going with the flow, never having a care in the world. The line 'stumbling around like a wasted zombie" definitely made me think of their constant use of soma, and, in some ways, I kind of feel like their futuristic world probably would look something like the one in this music video. The line "We think we're free" also makes me think of how the people in Brave New World are conditioned to believe that they are free, which really isn't true at all.
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Extended ending fanfiction!
(In finding John's corpse after the events at the end of Chapter 18)
Helicopter blades rocked the feet in fleeting motions of as they encircled close and far around John. The lighthouse was the compass housing to John's compass needle, and the sky was an open-faced sighting wire to lead the helicopters to him. The heather had turned to stinging nettles. The salt spray of the water was blood and mustard water. He couldn't overdose on the soma itself, but he could feel helpless to its power. He was poisoned with ideas and left to writhe in convulsions and agony of thoughts. He was helpless to its formless imitations of happiness and helpless to a world that would address him so politely as "Mr. Savage." The "Mister" a title of politeness to ease the burdens of incompatibility, and the "Savage" to remind him that he is without a name to civilization: an abomination of monogamy and Arabian trees and mothers. When they found him, they would question what would have been inside of that garden of mind that John had established with independent thoughts: a garden whose trees and flowers had been broken by their helicopter blades. It left behind only gnashed trunks and withered bloom. And they could see, as they finally ascended those lighthouse stares, a soul leaving a body and a soulless gaze's reflection on a world that could not contain a human being as it once existed in nature. Thus, it is the nature of the Savage to behave as reasonable as one never exposed to embryos or Orgy-Porgys could be. Thus, civilization will reflect on its past ways as incompatible with the current state of affairs for the betterment of society's happiness, productivity, and lasting human legacy. The Ford machine would never afford any less.
Helicopter blades rocked the feet in fleeting motions of as they encircled close and far around John. The lighthouse was the compass housing to John's compass needle, and the sky was an open-faced sighting wire to lead the helicopters to him. The heather had turned to stinging nettles. The salt spray of the water was blood and mustard water. He couldn't overdose on the soma itself, but he could feel helpless to its power. He was poisoned with ideas and left to writhe in convulsions and agony of thoughts. He was helpless to its formless imitations of happiness and helpless to a world that would address him so politely as "Mr. Savage." The "Mister" a title of politeness to ease the burdens of incompatibility, and the "Savage" to remind him that he is without a name to civilization: an abomination of monogamy and Arabian trees and mothers. When they found him, they would question what would have been inside of that garden of mind that John had established with independent thoughts: a garden whose trees and flowers had been broken by their helicopter blades. It left behind only gnashed trunks and withered bloom. And they could see, as they finally ascended those lighthouse stares, a soul leaving a body and a soulless gaze's reflection on a world that could not contain a human being as it once existed in nature. Thus, it is the nature of the Savage to behave as reasonable as one never exposed to embryos or Orgy-Porgys could be. Thus, civilization will reflect on its past ways as incompatible with the current state of affairs for the betterment of society's happiness, productivity, and lasting human legacy. The Ford machine would never afford any less.
Bernard Marx: the Music Video
This song always makes me think of Bernard and his simultaneous desires to be snarky about his society but also be accepted and lauded within its parameters. Bernard is kind of a jerk, but do his not-so-nice aspects seem justified at all? Does he draw our attention to important problems with the World State?
INFINITE CONTENT INFINITE CONTENT INFINITE CONTENT INFINITE CONTENT INFINITE CONTENT
Infinite Content by Arcade Fire
Hypnopaedia! Erotic play! Soma! Feelies! Obstacle Golf! Centrifugal Bumble-Puppy! Soma! Work some! Play some! Escalator Squash! Riemann-Surface Tennis! Orgies! Soma! Clothes and clothes and clothes! Synthetic music! Travel! Sex! Soma! More more more!
I can imagine this song and its two whole sentences repeated over and over again in the World State.
I can imagine this song and its two whole sentences repeated over and over again in the World State.
Shakespeare & Brave New World
Apparently I live and breathe Shakespeare at this point in my college education, and more specifically I live and breathe Hamlet. So that is fun. Anyway, in chapter 8, specifically page 123, of Brave New World, John is given a book. Popé gives him The Complete Works of Shakespeare and John opens it to a random page and reads the following lines, "Nay, but to live / In the rank sweat of an endeared bed, / Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love / Over the nasty sty..." This is from Act 3 scene 4 of Hamlet. This is where Hamlet is talking to his mother, Queen Gertrude, about her love life with his uncle, Claudius, and why it should stop. I have talked and thought about Hamlet more in the last month of my life than anyone ever should. But anyway, the way this is incorporated into the novel is interesting. Since the World State has done everything they can to destroy anything art related in order to maintain stability, Shakespeare represents going against that. Fighting the attempt to destroy literature and art over all. John also seems to have a connection to the words he reads. Even the few lines he randomly opened to say that they "rolled through his mind; rumbled, like the drums at the summer dances" (Huxley 123). It also goes on to mention that it is like the words are speaking to him, though only half understood, it is a connection he has not felt before. On page 124 John goes on to explain that he hates Popé, and that he wants to kill him. Ironically, in Hamlet, Hamlet wants to kill his uncle. This is more of a revenge situation, so it is a little different than Johns situation, but still relatable. John reads the lines, “When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage / Or in the in estrous pleasure of his bed...” These are the lines where Hamlet is talking about when to kill Claudius. John believes that the words are magic, talking to him, and telling him that killing Popé is a good idea. This shows the power of words, specifically Shakespeares words, but also literature in general. I found this to be very intriguing and so I wanted to write about it. And since Shakespeare and Hamlet have been my life for the last month or so, why not write more about them? Also here is a Shakespeare/Hamlet related meme for you all. :)
Monday, February 25, 2019
Savages and Civilization
I'm finding myself fascinated by the text's focus on contrasts despite functioning as a hive-mind, community driven society. Bernard and Lenina's journey outside the sanctum of their pleasure-filled, caste-specific niches enable them to encounter a people who are both a foil to them and a spectacle. The 'savages' don't understand that "civilization means sterilization," and they age, bleed, and hate (Huxley 114).
In chapter seven, the focus on the Indians and the 'savage' caught my attention, like in the scene where the old Indian, as he turns to Lenina, is described: "In his deep sunken orbits his eyes were still extraordinarily bright," casting a sense of vitality despite the group's derision of his age, saying of the elders in their world, "We don't allow them to be like that" (Huxley 106). Huxley's Utopia, it seems, has defied the nature of time and life, both in their breeding programs and conditionings and denial of age. This, I believe, is what lends to the introspective and haunting quality of the overall text. For all of their allowed pursuit of carnal pleasure and easygoing attitude, moments where they interact with an outside thinker of their ways (Bernard, Linda), cause an unbearable instability and unease in these utopians.
This instability is perfectly represented by John's existence. His insistent curiosity and thirst for reading and knowledge further mark him as an outsider. He was born, and has a mother, but he strives for 'civilization' as much as his outcast parent. His narration uses lyricism and references to Shakespeare and desire in ways that are intimate and philosophical, all of which create a wonderful portrait of the disparities of both the strict-yet-relaxed utopia and the barbarous-yet-familiar outsiders/Savages. As with any character straddling two cultures/heritages, John brings into question the divide between these two societies and why they exist, and how they both mirror and commentate on our own humanity and way of living.
In chapter seven, the focus on the Indians and the 'savage' caught my attention, like in the scene where the old Indian, as he turns to Lenina, is described: "In his deep sunken orbits his eyes were still extraordinarily bright," casting a sense of vitality despite the group's derision of his age, saying of the elders in their world, "We don't allow them to be like that" (Huxley 106). Huxley's Utopia, it seems, has defied the nature of time and life, both in their breeding programs and conditionings and denial of age. This, I believe, is what lends to the introspective and haunting quality of the overall text. For all of their allowed pursuit of carnal pleasure and easygoing attitude, moments where they interact with an outside thinker of their ways (Bernard, Linda), cause an unbearable instability and unease in these utopians.
This instability is perfectly represented by John's existence. His insistent curiosity and thirst for reading and knowledge further mark him as an outsider. He was born, and has a mother, but he strives for 'civilization' as much as his outcast parent. His narration uses lyricism and references to Shakespeare and desire in ways that are intimate and philosophical, all of which create a wonderful portrait of the disparities of both the strict-yet-relaxed utopia and the barbarous-yet-familiar outsiders/Savages. As with any character straddling two cultures/heritages, John brings into question the divide between these two societies and why they exist, and how they both mirror and commentate on our own humanity and way of living.
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Where do those dang chemicals come from?
From Chapter 8:
"But how do you make chemicals, Linda? Where do they come from?"
"Well, I don't know. You get them out of bottles. And when the bottles are empty, you send up to the Chemical Store for more. It's the Chemical Store people who make them, I suppose... I don't know. I never did any chemistry. My job was always with the embryos."
It was the same with everything else he asked about. Linda never seemed to know. The old men of the pueblo had much more definite answers.
It's mind-boggling that this society exists in a twisted type of consumerism, right down to the chemicals that are used to keep the lower castes behaving as they are supposed to. Linda answers the boys' questions in a way that doesn't really answer the question at all but rather passing the responsibility of the answer to the different party. She isn't doing this cryptically, either, literally stating "I don't know" repeatedly through her response. It's a wonder that she doesn't leave it at that, but maybe Linda thinks she does have an explanation. If the society within Brave New World is viewed by its inhabitants as a collective consciousness of intelligence, then it's reasonable to think that its blissful to not have answers and to relish in the idea that those who are important to the making of the chemicals know what they are made from. Linda even implies that the idea hadn't crossed her mind much, that she had always done chemistry. It's kind of strange. Shouldn't she deserve to know, since those working the embryos would also be working with the made chemicals? Kids ask the darndest things; they seem a lot more curious than the adults. Deferring responsibility to the Chemical Store means that Linda can think about her own job more, something she also is seemingly implicitly encouraging the kids to do.
Right, how this relates to the bigger picture. In a lot of ways, this twisted ignorance of the processes behind consumerism aren't too far-fetched from the society that we live in today. Do we really think about what all of the chemicals in our food do or how they're made? Maybe to a degree, but we trust that the food companies and the regulatory bodies behind them wouldn't let us have anything we aren't supposed to have. Brave New World's society suffers even more under this lack of information; they don't often so much question why things are the way that they are. It just is.
"But how do you make chemicals, Linda? Where do they come from?"
"Well, I don't know. You get them out of bottles. And when the bottles are empty, you send up to the Chemical Store for more. It's the Chemical Store people who make them, I suppose... I don't know. I never did any chemistry. My job was always with the embryos."
It was the same with everything else he asked about. Linda never seemed to know. The old men of the pueblo had much more definite answers.
It's mind-boggling that this society exists in a twisted type of consumerism, right down to the chemicals that are used to keep the lower castes behaving as they are supposed to. Linda answers the boys' questions in a way that doesn't really answer the question at all but rather passing the responsibility of the answer to the different party. She isn't doing this cryptically, either, literally stating "I don't know" repeatedly through her response. It's a wonder that she doesn't leave it at that, but maybe Linda thinks she does have an explanation. If the society within Brave New World is viewed by its inhabitants as a collective consciousness of intelligence, then it's reasonable to think that its blissful to not have answers and to relish in the idea that those who are important to the making of the chemicals know what they are made from. Linda even implies that the idea hadn't crossed her mind much, that she had always done chemistry. It's kind of strange. Shouldn't she deserve to know, since those working the embryos would also be working with the made chemicals? Kids ask the darndest things; they seem a lot more curious than the adults. Deferring responsibility to the Chemical Store means that Linda can think about her own job more, something she also is seemingly implicitly encouraging the kids to do.
Right, how this relates to the bigger picture. In a lot of ways, this twisted ignorance of the processes behind consumerism aren't too far-fetched from the society that we live in today. Do we really think about what all of the chemicals in our food do or how they're made? Maybe to a degree, but we trust that the food companies and the regulatory bodies behind them wouldn't let us have anything we aren't supposed to have. Brave New World's society suffers even more under this lack of information; they don't often so much question why things are the way that they are. It just is.
Pettiness in Brave New World
Everyone is very judgmental in Brave New World even though its supposed to be a culture where everyone is everyone's which is why sexual promiscuity isn't taboo but they still find minor infractions to be petty about. The perfect example of this is when John won't participate in the party everyone instantly turns on Bernard and everyone Bernard was trying to impress gets fed up with his attitude and now have a reason to stop sucking up to him (172). Even Mustapha Mond, someone who has access to books that no one else is allowed to read and who is supposed to be very wise and respected, is insulted by Bernard's attitude in his reports (159). In both cases it is a sense of pride that causes them to dislike Bernard who is acting self important but this is strange because they are acting self important too by thinking that they are better than Bernard and therefore being insulted by his new found confidence. Earlier in the book I got the impression that everything in this society ran as if it was a machine or an ant hill but now I see that that is just a facade and that everyone still has emotion that dictates action but with some conflict between different kinds of conditioning sprinkled into the story to make it interesting.
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