In Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, people are no longer born, but mass produced in bottles. They are manufactured and conditioned to belong to various classes and be perfectly content with whichever caste they were created for. The World State motto is thus:
Community. Identity. Stability.
Individuality is not an option, the family unit has been abolished and everyone belongs to everyone else. “No pains have been spared to make your lives emotionally easy – to preserve you from having any emotions at all.” And for those moments where natural bliss cannot be achieved, there is the perfect drug, soma. “Better a gram than a damn.” Society is stable and everyone is perfectly content and/or blissful.
Except for Bernard, a member of the alpha class with a penchant for being alone and preferring misery over soma (“I’d rather be myself. Myself and nasty. Not somebody else, however jolly.”) Bernard gets the unique opportunity to visit a savage reservation – a place where live births still occur, complete with the family unit, hunting, religion, dirt and disease. There he meets John, who feels like an outsider because of his ability to read. Bernard feels like an outsider because of his ability to think for himself. For the purposes of a social experiment, John is allowed to come to civilization under the watch of Bernard.
So basically you have John absorbing this new “civilized” way of life and comparing it to his “primitive” ideas and lifestyle, while Bernard is not so loud in criticizing the world system when it gives him fame.
I think my favorite part was when John learned to read Shakespeare. Through reading Shakespeare he found the ability to define and express his feelings with words, which thus made his feelings more real. You know…let’s just go with the excerpt here. For the record, Popé is his mother’s “boyfriend.”
“He hated Popé more and more. A man can smile and smile and be a villain. Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindles villain. What did the words exactly mean? He only half knew. But their magic was strong and went of rumbling in his head, and somehow it was as though he had never really hated Popé before; never really hated him because he had never been able to say how much he hated him. But now he had these words, these words like drums and singing and magic. These words and the strange, strange story out of which they were taken – they gave him a reason for hating Popé; and they made his hatred more real; they even made Popé himself more real.”
-pg 110
I love that…the words made Popé more real. Reminds me of something C.S Lewis said: “The human mind is generally far more eager to praise and dispraise than to describe and define.”
There’s more things to write about here – an infinite amount, almost – but maybe I’ll write another post sometime, cause I’m tired. l8er m8s.