That last book? Yeah, I had to read it pretty much solely to recover from this one. For the love, 1984 was a wretched work that just made me SAD. From the first chapter on, the dastard depravity of humankind is amplified over and again until we see Winston, the main character, chewed up and spewed out by the reality that is unfortunately his.
Winston works in the Records Department in the Ministry of Truth. His actual responsibilities include changing past records to accommodate the lies that the Party perpetuates regarding anything from the number of boots created one month to the country with whom they are currently at war. Winston's problem is that he is an anomaly to society: he notices and remembers the Party's alterations to the truth. Over time, he evolves from just a curious observer blindly carrying out his sad little life to a willing volunteer of the Brotherhood intent on bringing the Party down.
This leads to a rebellious affair with a fellow Party member named Julia. Julia and Winston fall as much in love as two individuals with no moral compass or liberty know how, and together they change the course of their destiny by committing to the Brotherhood...and subsequently being ripped apart by it.
Just sad. Sad, sad, sad. I was distraught for the broken relationships between parents and children, heart-broken for the callousness of one human being toward another, and overall disgusted with how easy it is to compare the state of Winston's society to the reality of our own. I was positively horrified to take in Winston's torture scenes, especially the one (oh, I can't even type it) with the rats. Lawdyhammercy.
It is said that George Orwell was a genius. I'd agree...this work is a prime example that the man's brain was on a level the rest of us can't even imagine.
A sad genius, though.
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