The New Neo

I read Aldous Huxley’s dystopian Brave New World shortly after I had read Orwell’s dystopian Nineteen-Eighty-Four. I was around thirteen years old at the time, and I didn’t quite get Brave New World although I did finish it.

In my opinion both are masterpieces, but Orwell’s novel was much more straightforward and easy to understand, as well as more frightening to me. Huxley’s work was more complex and subtle in its message. I think I perceived only about half of the content’s implications – in particular, the social programming through science. I only partly understood the rest of what was happening in that future world: the desire to eliminate human suffering by eliminating human freedom, and the huge costs humanity and individuals would pay in such a society.

Over the years, however, I’ve re-read Brave New World several times, and each time I read it I appreciated it more than before. I see our current society and current predicament as an amalgam of the two, but more like Huxley’s vision than Orwell’s. Yet I see people referencing Orwell more often – perhaps because more have read it, or at least excerpts from it?

Although it was Orwell who discussed in great depth the use of language as mind-molding propaganda – his invention of Newspeak is genius – Brave New World doesn’t ignore the use of language. In Huxley’s work, it’s the elimination of certain words as obscenities that is especially interesting in light of certain trends today; I’m thinking of the drop in the birthrate in Westernized countries and the fall in the marriage rate.

You may recall that, in Brave New World, society’s designers had not only eliminated the family but had made words like “mother” unspeakable obscenities that were offensive to even utter. Interesting, no? And remember, Huxley’s book was published in 1932, nearly a hundred years ago:

‘And “parent?”?’ questioned the D.H.C.

There was an uneasy silence. Several of the boys blushed. They had not yet learned to draw the significant but often very fine distinction between smut and pure science. One, at last, had the courage to raise a hand.

‘Human beings used to be…’ he hesitated; the blood rushed to his cheeks. ‘Well, they used to be viviparous.’

‘Quite right.’ The Director nodded approvingly.

‘And when the babies were decanted…’

‘”Born”,’ came the correction.

‘Well, then they were the parents–I mean, not the babies, of course; the other ones.’ The poor boy was overwhelmed with confusion.

‘In brief,’ the Director summed up, ‘the parents were the father and the mother.’ The smut that was really science fell with a crash into the boys’ eye-avoiding silence. ‘Mother,’ he repeated loudly rubbing in the science; and, leaning back in his chair, ‘These,’ he said gravely, ‘are unpleasant facts; I know it. But, then, most historical facts are unpleasant.’

Here’s another quote from the book:

“Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. But there were also husbands, wives, lovers. There were also monogamy and romance. “Though you probably don’t know what those are,” said Mustapha Mond. They shook their heads. Family, monogamy, romance. Everywhere exclusiveness, a narrow channelling of impulse and energy. “But every one belongs to every one else,” he concluded, citing the hypnopædic proverb.”

If you’ve never read the book, or if you haven’t read it in a long long while, you might want to take a look.