Nineteen Eighty-Four

There are some books which can be reread time and time again, yet reveal new insights each time. The first time I read Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell, I was thirteen and frankly thought it was an interesting story, but couldn't see what the big deal was. Then, four years later, as a high school senior, I reread it again. But two things changed: the world, and me. 

The first time I'd read the book was about four or five years into President Obama's term in office. Of course, I remembered the tail end of the Bush presidency, but most of my understanding of the world had been forming under this single era. But by the time I was rereading the book at seventeen, I'd witnessed the rapid descent into mudslinging and hate that engulfed the nation during the lead up to the 2016 election. Coincidentally, the term "fake news" was getting used quite a bit. Suddenly, Winston's job of rewriting documents seemed almost applicable to the world I saw. No longer was it a relic of the chapters about Soviet Russia or Nazi Germany. 

Now another five or six years passed. And, seizing on Thanksgiving travel as a good time to return to this work, I reread it again. Interestingly, I don't think my new understanding was as influenced by changes in the political climate this time. I think it was me. I'd like to believe that I'm at least a smidge more mature now. And Nineteen Eighty-Four frankly scares me. What once seemed like an exaggerated satirical representation seems almost like an inevitable eventuality. 

People everywhere seem almost willfully ignorant of injustices that the people they support are committing. Discourse is replaced with hateful insults. Objectivity is frowned upon, emotions run rampant. The Two Minutes Hate, a concept which almost made me laugh at thirteen, now seems just around the corner. As we boo and hiss at Eurasia and East Asia, just remember:

Meaning of War Is Peace.

Freedom Is Slavery.

Ignorance Is Strength.