17. Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned by love of dystopian novels in at least one previous post. Knowing that, it may surprise you to know that until my little brother was assigned it as his summer reading, I had never read Nineteen Eighty-Four. It's a good book. Sometimes when I read, everyone once in a while I look to see if I'm halfway through yet. With Nineteen Eighty-Four, I thought I'd read ten pages when I'd read fifty. It was pretty awesome.

For the five people out there who have never read the book, it's about Winston, the typical every man, who lives in Oceania, a distorted English-American version of Leninism -- Leninism perfected by technology, if you will. Big Brother is the leader, douplespeak reigns and the government changes the vocabulary to prevent thoughtcrime. I don't feel the need to explain these concepts, since they've become so deeply ingrained in our own vocabulary they even have their own Wikipedia pages (in that same vein, while I usually avoid spoilers, I won't in this case, though I'll try to not give away the end).

I'd much rather talk about Julia and, in a more abstract way, how Orwell deals with women. Julia is young and sensual, but not beautiful. A member of the Junior Anti-Sex League, (pleasurable relations are forbidden by the Party, since it can't regulate the bonds it forms) Julia is despised by Winston until, seemingly out of the blue, she leaves a note in his hand with a simple "I love you." They begin a sexual, then emotional and intellectual affair.

My problem is that Julia -- who could be a very deep, interesting character -- is flat, shallow and quite irrational. Why does she give Winston that note? Maybe love isn't as loaded of a word as it is in the real world -- maybe love just means "let's have sex." Julia immediately tells Winston of the many affairs she's had, but it seems that there's something more to their relationship, some deeper meaning, than the others had.

Julia, it seems, is so much more of a rebel than Winston. At the same time, Orwell portrays her as dumb. She doesn't care about ideology, only survival. This could be interesting, but instead it's used to dismiss her. She only exists as a tool, a way for Winston to feel smarter but also as someone for him to love. Her thoughts and desires are never given any credit -- like I said, she doesn't care about ideology, but when Winston signs them up for the resistance movement, she's completely committed to the cause. Is that just because she loves Winston so much? Doubtful.

I just hated that she was merely a character in his story. Her own life didn't matter -- her family, her desires. She mattered only in that she was the object of his love and sexual desires. It sucks because historically that's the way women have been viewed for generations. Sigh.

Next up: Unsure. Tempted to reread The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but I might head into some nonfiction. or Jane Eyre.