A few moments ago I finished reading "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley and I wanted to share my thoughts on the book while they were still fresh.
While reading the book, I couldn't help not draw parallels between the utopian society depicted here and the one from Orwell's 1984. It's interesting how a few decades ago they imagined how the future might be - and perhaps also raised the attention on the dangers that might lurk the in darkness of time.
George Orwell's 1984 describes an oppressed society, afraid to take any action, paralysed and rendered unable to feel any sensation. A society of robots one might say, robots unable to feel, think and express themselves.
On a first look, the society described in "Brave New World" is quite the opposite. Everyone is happy, oppression does not exist, as all the wishes can be fulfilled. The population is drunk with cheap feelings, often not more than physical sensations - yet, what more could they want? Dumbness is cultivated in their minds, depending on their caste, they get a smaller or larger dose of it. In my opinion, the main principle of this society lies in the fact that people are not aware of their existence as individuals, only as part of the whole. This reminds me of the social principles often found in left wing political views, though in this case, in a broader scope.
I also noticed some similarities with our present world, albeit they might be a bit subjective.
Consumerism. An often criticized principle nowadays is also wide spread in the book; the population is "taught" to despise anything that's old and yearn for new. Though I must admit that the book leaves the reader wondering how consumerism gets along with social stability; how can one constantly provide new things, without placing in jeopardy stability?
Cheap sensations. Aren't we taught to appreciate cheap sensations? The chemical taste of colourful commercial products, the beauty of enjoying relationships without involvement, the relief of a pint of beer after a bad day at the office? Of course, some of these are psychological needs, though one might wonder how much they blind us from our inner self.
Television and media. The "civilized" citizens of the new world are dependant on media; not so much on the delivered content, but on the way it shields them from themselves. It's remarkably how in 1932, somebody was able to guess so precisely the anesthetic effect of media nowadays. Television, radio, games - they're all very useful cures against solitude. How often have you turned on the TV, not because you wanted to watch something, but just because you wanted to get rid of the heavy silence?
All in all, I liked the book. There are of course some open questions, and also some passages where I feel there's a too strong emphasis on religion, especially Christianity - without fully dissecting the principles behind it. But if we keep in mind when and where the book was written, it's easy to understand this. I highly recommend the book to anyone that enjoyed 1984 by George Orwell, or who wouldn't mind to experience a dose of futuristic vision of a promiscuous world over-saturated with happiness.
A few quotes that I enjoyed:
"Home, home - a fem small rooms, stiflingly over-inhabited by a man, by a periodically teeming woman, by a rabble of boys and girls of all ages. No air, no space; an under-sterilized prison; darkness, disease, and smells." (Chapter 3)
"But every one belongs to every one else," he concluded, citing the hypnopædic proverb. (Chapter 3)
[soma] "All the advantages of Christianity and alcohol; none of their defects." ... "Take a holiday from reality whenever you like, and come back without so much as a headache or a mythology."
"One of the principal functions of a friend is to suffer (in a milder and symbolic form) the punishments that we should like, but are unable, to inflict upon our enemies." (Chapter 12)
"And yet," said Helmholtz when, having recovered breath enough to apologize, he had mollified the Savage into listening to his explanations, "I know quite well that one needs ridiculous, mad situations like that; one can't write really well about anything else. Why was that old fellow such a marvellous propaganda technician? Because he had so many insane, excruciating things to get excited about. You've got to be hurt and upset; otherwise you can't think of the really good, penetrating, X-rayish phrases. But fathers and mothers!" He shook his head. "You can't expect me to keep a straight face about fathers and mothers. And who's going to get excited about a boy having a girl or not having her?" (The Savage winced; but Helmholtz, who was staring pensively at the floor, saw nothing.) "No." he concluded, with a sigh, "it won't do. We need some other kind of madness and violence. But what? What? Where can one find it?" He was silent; then, shaking his head, "I don't know," he said at last, "I don't know." (Chapter 12)
"Of course it does. Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand." (Chapter 16)
"Each one of us, of course," the Controller meditatively continued, "goes through life inside a bottle. But if we happen to be Alphas, our bottles are, relatively speaking, enormous. We should suffer acutely if we were confined in a narrower space. You cannot pour upper-caste champagne-surrogate into lower-caste bottles. (Chapter 16)
"Did you eat something that didn't agree with you?" asked Bernard. The savage nodded. "I ate civilization." (Chapter 18)
