(no subject)

[rebness]

I grew tired of preparing my computer for its funeral arrangements the other night, so I sat down to shout and gesture angrily at the television instead. Channel Four was showing a debate between Tony Blair and young people of Britain. This was fantastic, given that young people are much more vociferous in their distrust and their disappointment in Blair than the older generation. It meant the anger and the energy of my generation was finally given a national voice, a strong voice.

Blair pontificated. He stuttered and tried to drown his listeners in newspeak. They weren’t having any of it, such as when he justified attacking Saddam because he had previously held weapons of mass destruction (“WMDs”, said Blair jovially, as if he was talking about a cool piece of software.)

“I have a criminal record,” said one young man, “does that mean that I’ll automatically re-offend?”

“Well, I…er…I…”

Excellent.

pandorasblog reminded me that the 1984 version of Nineteen-Eighty Four, with John Hurt, was showing after the debate. Um, at 1am. However! My Orwellian admiration knows no boundaries, so I sat up till gone three to watch it. Nearly died, but you know.

1984 was never meant to be prophetic. It was to some extent a warning, but not so much of how Britain could become totalitarian; more that Britain should be aware of the insidious manipulation going on elsewhere. Orwell had seen the Spanish Republicans betrayed by their “brother” Stalin; he had nearly given his life for this cause that he believed in, for these people that he believed in, and meanwhile, Big Brother Stalin was playing them all for fools.

That’s why it is so worrying that his satire has become less fiction than an alarming indictment of what is taking place. At the slightest glance to our freedom, people are extremely quick to yell out “1984!” or “Big Brother OH NOES!!1!” and thus, through these clichéd rantings, the original context loses its power.

The new laws being brought out in Britain mean that terror suspects can have CCTV installed in their homes to monitor their every move. ID cards are to be made compulsory—no country has ever introduced them in peacetime. Criticise the government (US or UK) and you’re unpatriotic; you’re a damned terrorist sympathiser. Language is modified, stripped of its meaning; weapons of mass destruction, insurgents rather than rebels or, you know, native countrymen, support our troops becomes an oppressive cry against reasoned argument with which to shout each other down. O’Brien would be proud.

The film brought all those feelings back to me. It’s a few years since I read the book, and one can become jaded with media saturation. Here, though, was the tale of a man broken by the government; here were the realities of giving up one’s freedom for the “good” of the country; going along with what a government says because it uses terror and patriotism as its own weapons of mass obedience.

A critic once wrote that Orwell wasn’t a great writer; it was just that he put some things into a clear and readable context. I can understand that point in that he wasn’t James Joyce, but surely his accessibility, his concise and questing journalistic style, makes him a great writer, anyway?

It was after reading Down and Out in Paris and London that I stopped being a tight git and decided not to turn my nose up at the homeless; at those beggars on the street. It was after reading Homage to Catalonia that I gazed up at that sad little hotel on the Ramblas where Orwell had stayed to pay my own homage to him and the other fighters of the Spanish Civil War. The rain was falling softly, and I was seized by a range of emotions from sadness to empathy to the feeling that both these things, blood and the written word, meant I could be standing there that day.

If only we had listened to Spain then. If only we had listened to Orwell then, and not the screams of The Daily Mail as it proclaimed the Republicans evil pope-murderers, as Britain allowed Franco, and then Mussolini and then Hitler himself, to spread Fascism throughout Europe. How much more of Europe would still be intact? Would Dresden still be rubble? Would those villages in France have never seen mass slaughter? Would my own grandfather have been spared a painful death after the effects of war?

That’s why, no matter how many times a person alludes to 1984, no matter how many times it must be referenced, that I can’t allow myself to forget. Every time I feel sucked in by Blair’s Cheshire Cat manic grin, I think back to that night in Barcelona, and I remember.

Comments

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Oh nonoononono, never Iran. It must be France, by gum! Or maybe Italy, because they have cakes.

Yaay that you're not a criminal!

They're going to do everyone eventually? 198-- I mean, dear lord. >:

We've been told that the next time we go to the US, we'll be fingerprinted. *Thinks* Hmm. *Books holiday for somewhere in Europe instead.*

[pandorasblog]

*Everyone* as in the whole damn country? :o The fact I'm not sure that that isn't the answer says much about the current climate. And yeah, being fingerprinted as a tourist would put me off travelling. They were quick enough to let our terrorists raise money over there, and *now* they're fingerprinting people just for visiting? That's so backwards as to be inside-out. (I know that sentence made no sense, but it's late/early. And I promise to go to bed in five minutes and rest my strange sentence-producing brain!)

Becky, I loved this post. I taped the film, and this makes me want to put some time aside to watch it tomorrow. :)

[rebness.livejournal.com]

I love how the same leaders who regarded our terrorists as cute and cuddly now think that all Europeans are terrorists OMG.

I don’t know if it’s a silly reaction, but I just feel offended, you know? It mars everything. I remember landing at Newark and being all, “New continent! Yaay!” and being extremely excited to finally be in America.

I had a connecting flight to North Carolina, and oh my God, immigration was painful. The queue for Europe was *massive* and I had to run, yes, run, to beat as many Germans, Swedish, French and Italians as I could. Then it was nearly half an hour of waiting. When I did get to the desk, they asked me everything; where I was staying, did I plan to kill people over there, what colour were my socks?

(They soon found out about the socks when they forced me to take my shoes off and walk through a scanner.)

Grraugh! Not just a time-waster, but a real downer. And I wanted to say, excuse me, dude—but I’m very happy living in Europe. Thank me for my tourist dollars!

(That would have probably ended in a more intimate search.)

Oh, definitely watch 1984, Ang. Let me know what you think—I’d love to see what your thoughts are.

[pandorasblog]

Yah, when you get right to it, it *is* offensive. I dunno... my simplistic and ignorant gut reaction is to say that the security system over there is working out its insecurities about not having been able to prevent the terrorist attacks. I mean, god knows, there were intelligence service failures, failures to co-operate... just plain failures. :(

We watched the film this afternoon... wow. It wasn't at all how I expected it to be, which is somewhat nonsensical since I couldn't tell you what my prior expectations were. Had I not been so tired I think I'd have come away deeply depressed by the torture scene; as it was it just seemed like one more thing that rang alarm bells because it felt a bit like something in the real world...

Btw, did the CD ever turn up? I posted it on Thursday 1st-class, but one I posted at the same time only got there on Monday, and two cards Mum posted 1st-class on Saturday only arrived today... er, one of them did; the other one may well still be AWOL. Mum is now tres mad at the crappy postal service! I also have some stuff from the booklet to transcribe for you, but figure I'll wait til you have computer access at home again, since I know you can't get into web-based mail at work.

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Have you read the book, Ang?

I felt so close to slipping into depression after reading it. I swear the world grew a shade darker for me afterwards. The torture scene is unbearable to read in it, because you’re hoping and hoping and hoping that Winston will somehow outfox him, that human nature saves the day… and, well, you know.

Thankfully, was more prepared for the film, but it was still horribly dark. Oranges and Lemons will never be the same, anyway. ;)

I did get the CD! Thank you!

Dude, I thought I'd told you, but Timothy must have conked out before I did. It's absolutely brilliant-- am listening to it far too often. I'll e-mail you about it tomorrow, when boss is off and the web-mailage computer is free. >:)

[pandorasblog]

Cool, I'm so glad you like it! It just deserves to be appreciated more widely... the demo of ELTSDIM sends shivers down my spine, and the Strontium 90 version of 3 O'Clock Shit is one of my favourite Police recordings, ever.

(Timothy? Your computer? Who's it named after? :) )

And nope, the only thing of his I've read is Animal Farm. I think I need to wait a while before I can read 1984! :o