books: fiction

Still Watching, Bro?

~ graham best
Big Brother is watching…

Published 70 years ago in 1949 and bearing a futuristic title that is now itself 35 years in the past, George Orwell’s classic 1984 retains its uncanny relevance and power. The story of a socialized England that is advancing Communist ideas to some of their most unsettling misuses, the novel shines with intelligent satire, riotous revelation, and a defiantly personal narrative that provides heartbreaking counterpoint to getting lost in and crushed by the political machine.

Before my intuition directed me to this great book, I had been catching up on Marx, reading his incisive ideas about Capitalist fallout: the deadening alienation of the working class from the labor it performs, the predictable momentum of profiteering toward clandestine oligarchies, the regrettable inhumanity of the resulting System in every detail and in general. It was not by clear logical reasoning that as my next reading choice I cracked the spine on 1984, but the sequential fit should be apparent. Marx and Orwell are like opposing bookends around society as a whole and where it is going.

Would I recommend 1984? So many people encounter it for the first time in secondary school. Who knows if they actually read it then? Probably better if they don’t, because there is a level of sophistication to this book that overall is probably lost on an audience under the age of 30. You need to live and struggle inside challenging economic realities as an adult for a while to lay the best foundation for these pages. Possessing that experience, readers will deeply savor the howling lampoon of a world in which individuality is entirely criminal and politics is forced religion.

Orwell chases those outcomes to impressive lengths. He delivers not only a riveting narrative that elicits deep sympathy from the reader, but while doing so, also peppers in abundant discursive material pertaining to the social fabric on an instructive level. For instance, there is a long section nearly halfway into the book when the protagonist Winston Smith reads a secret manual about the intentions of The Party, printed verbatim, as if an expose on the nature of Power. The novel also contains a long appendix, addressing in staggering detail the re-engineering of spoken language for the purpose of uniformity as NewSpeak.

Is it mission critical that you read every word of those deeply didactic portions of the book? No, but for now entertain the idea that surprisingly you may want to. They round out the grim portrait of who and what Big Brother is, why and how he functions and exists, what the charms of his benevolent protection are all about. The explanations seem less like a lesson in history than a scathing indictment of the present. We live in a world of bank bailouts, fixed elections, dismissive accusations of fake news, rampant surveillance, and profound anxiety and indifference. The White House overly serves the interests of the wealthiest 1%, dependent on it for candidacy. Is Big Brother still watching? If so, he must like what he sees. These social norms are only normal in a fascist ascendancy.

High Mountains: High Ratings?

~ graham best

Yann Martel is the author of Life of Pi. His latest book The High Mountains of Portugal, released in 2016, explores themes of grief and loss, faith and redemption, religious epiphany, and meaningful living. These themes and others are at work in the book at all times, but operate quietly beneath a playful surface, at times humorous, at times very gripping for its suspense and dramatic tension. For literary-minded readers, the book offers a treasure chest of sparkling wording, compelling human eccentricity, and a tasteful appreciation of the cruel hand of Fate.

The book functions on a three-part structure that engages the reader through interlocking tales. It is a common enough conceit in storytelling these days for authors to suspend the revelation of how different threads that do not seem related ultimately are. Martel’s subtle addition to this device is to match form to content, such that particular themes amplify from the treatment. In particular, a tripartite structure feeds the book’s abiding reconsideration of the Christian faith, itself a three-part illumination, consisting of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Did Martel intend this and other such parallels? Read the amusing middle pages about Agatha Christie novels and judge for yourself!

Then enjoy the book’s deep and ubiquitous symbolism, which need never fully reduce to mundane equivalences. In fact, the book’s symbolism soars for being allusive without being didactic or simplistic. What to make, for example, of the repeated references to the Iberian rhinoceros and its noble presence in Portugal before going extinct? Might it not represent a kind of lost perfection, which is a main preoccupation of the book? Yes, but it’s also a modern representation of the unicorn, the medieval animal trope for Jesus Christ, another preoccupation. Martel is a true master at handling symbolism lightly yet undeniably. He is especially good at it with animals in the mix.

One animal in particular also stands out in this novel as possibly Martel’s greatest achievement in developing a character. You will know that character once you spend time together. You may find yourself laughing a lot as you read, shaking your head with delight or bemused disbelief, wanting more, always more. There is a story about Fyodor Dostoyevsky, author of Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov, that he regarded Prince Myshkin, the title character of The Idiot, as his personal favorite among his creations. Martel would have every right to hold his new character in equal esteem. He would also have similar reasons to in that both unlikely cast members manifest and evoke spiritual ideals.

The High Mountains of Portugal is another great rhapsody on life from the unique and colorful imagination of one of our most daring contemporary writers. Here, Yann Martel further carves out a literary space all his own, one that blurs and reinvents the lines between realism, fantasy, and possibility. His novels—this one heading the list—take readers into a paradoxical new understanding of what being human really means, made possible through the playful narrative foil of participating animals. The book will not disappoint if you enjoy solid character development, historical curios, intelligent and illuminating digression, and a story that rewards you for pausing now and then to do some personal reflection about its myriad implications. For better or worse, one or two of them may never resolve.