1984 – reflection 1

Well, I finished reading 1984 tonight. If you have not yet read it, perhaps you’ll consider skipping this entry as you a)might not understand it, or b)might not want to have the book spoiled for you. I’d really prefer it if you’d read the book and develop your own thoughts before reading mine… then perhaps some discussion could take place. I won’t kill you, however, if you read this regardless.

I find myself completely in a doublethink situation. Strange how that word is exactly what I needed to describe what I find myself doing. I am so torn between Winston’s visions and those of O’Brien, that I simply don’t know how to explain them well. It’s rather frightening, actually.

Let me start with Winston. He doubts himself, his sanity, his motives… I must say I think we all do that. You sometimes wonder what exactly makes a person sane… you sometimes question whether or not you’re wrong, just because everyone else seems to disagree with you. And even though you know in your gut that you’re completely justified and correct… you doubt. There are just some things you know… but you cannot prove. That was Winston’s problem. He KNEW the world… he KNEW humanity… he knew better things were out there. But there was no way on earth he could’ve ever proved it… the ministry of truth had taken care of that.

This leads into O’Brien. (Oh, and by the way… I’m not analyzing the entire book in one entry… since I just finished it, I’m more inclined to talk about the end of the book than the beginning…) Towards the end he is attempting to brainwash Winston into the beliefs of Ingsoc. I believe they have a discussion about reality and existence. Winston believes that the world exists around him, yet cannot prove it, whereas O’Brien suggests that perhaps the only thing that exists is YOU. Everything else is just a perception, and anything you want to believe is moving will move in your eyes. This scares me incredibly… I’m sure I wrote an entry on it, but last summer I had this rather in depth philosophical rant about this very thing. (that is what scares me… not the concept itself, but rather the fact that I thought of it way before I touched the book) At any rate, the thing is… I can prove what O’Brien says. It’s completely plausible, and I can prove it. However, I believe by faith what Winston believes to be true, yet I cannot, for the life of me, prove it.

That leaves me hanging on nothing but faith. It puts me right in Winston’s position, but clearly seeing only Oceania’s side. A strange position to be in, don’t you think?

*excuse my lack of flow at this point… I’m trying to convince Andy of why reading books is good or at least beneficial*

Rats… I think it might be spiders for me. Although I must say rats would do it too. *shudders* I am completley afraid of physical pain in any way shape or form, so room 101 could be almost anything they wanted it to be. I find myself wondering how long I would last that entire ordeal within the Ministry of Hate, err, I mean… Peace? I stand firm in my beliefs… but would I in that situation? How long would it take to break me down, before I’d start confessing anything? Would I avoid the pain as much as possible, or would I endure until I simply could not? And the entire time… to know you’re in the hands of a madman.

And yet he loved the madman. O’Brien… what made Winston love the man who tortured him? And how long had they been reading his diary? I think from the start, though I’m not quite sure why they let it go on so long. Less work if the person thinks less. I must admit I was completely shocked by Mr. Charrington, or whatever his name was… and for awhile there I will admit that I thought perhaps he wasn’t truly in the Ministry of Peace at all, but rather in a training area for the Brotherhood. I mean, it’s plausible, is it not? To see whether or not they would REALLY withstand the torture… to test their secrecy. But that idea kind of went down the drain after awhile… obviously.

I seem to be asking more questions than answering them.

I really enjoyed the fact that Winston started a diary. I don’t think there’s a more completely suitable way to describe why we have what we have. All of us, the ODers, must have some reason for being here, for writing… and I think it’s not too far from Winston’s. He wrote for the past, he wrote for the future. Perhaps to warn the past, perhaps to give the future a glimpse of the past, his present. Just for himself, really. The comrades of Oceania had no privacy… I cannot imagine such a life… His diary was his privacy. (well, ironically it was not, as we eventually learn) His venting… his release for all that inside pressure which builds up in all of us. How many of the ODers are here to rant or vent or simply get it all out of our systems? To just write to fulfill something… to discover ourselves… to record, well, life? Something so personal… and something so obsolete in Winston’s time… in 1984.

I want to talk about memory… but I don’t know where to begin. I don’t think I’ve thought this out quite enough. Perhaps you’ll let me come back to that?

For now, I’m being

~swept away in reflection~

@~>~>-dreamergrrl

***~***~***~***^~^~^~dreamergrrl~^~^~^***~***~***~***