It's strange that we celebrate Bonfire Night to remember some bloke who tried to blow up Parliament many moons ago and got caught in the act. It's a national festival held up to remind us of the danger of dissent. I can imagine why an old skool monarch would want to stick that day in the calendar. Especially after the imminent danger of having almost been blown to pieces. But it's funny that it still holds.
Is it just a gripping moral tale from the past? Or is it still a useful metaphor to help the government warn the common public what might happen if we try to put a rocket under David Cameron's arse? Turn it on its head, and maybe it's actually a celebration of dissent? The very fact that it's a festive occasion where we utilise Guy's weapon of choice to send pretty lines and coloured spirals through the sky is something I reckon he might've quite liked. Unfortunately for him though, by the time the fireworks kick off, he's usually endured his millionth death by bonfire via the form of another childish effigy wearing Dad's old tennis shoes and Hawaiian shirt. Maybe there is no particular reason for holding up the festivities except it's tradition, innit. And everyone loves an excuse for a celebration. And Mum loves an excuse to burn Dad's vile shirts.
I was just reading about Guy Fawkes (Wikipedia of course). Apparently (according to trusted source mentioned in previous sentence) when he was first caught for the Gunpowder Plot he gave the authorities a false name. Instead of Guy Fawkes, he told them he was 'John Johnson'. HA! That is a man in the moment of panic....'shit...my name...think of a name...definitely not Guy...another name...any name...a man's name...John...a surname...bollocks...nothing...John...John...son?'
Remember, remember the 5th of November. When a bloke fucked up and got caught trying to blow up the government.
I have decided to take my own message from this. Remember, remember:
1) we're all a bit fucked up
2) that's what makes us beautiful and real
3) striving for perfection is death to the masterpiece
4) embrace all of you, including the messy fucked up bits! It's liberating for you, and the guy next door will breathe easier too when he knows you've just fucked up and even more so, he'll admire you when he sees that you can handle it.
5) That's what I'll be celebrating this Bonfire night. Three cheers to you big Guy - for fucking up, and getting a whole country to light up the sky in honour of that on a yearly basis for over 400 years.
Sunday, 2 November 2014
Thursday, 21 August 2014
A Poem
An Invitation From The Sea
Being by the sea calms our souls.
The crashing of water,
Constant ocean song,
Soothes us all.
We don't have to be anything here.
Water washes our tickling minds,
Intellect seems comical and ridiculous.
The waves creep in to the shore,
And invite us to join them.
To scrub out our boundaries,
Be listless, open and free.
Let's become slippery silver fish that swim forever,
And cannot be caught.
Learn to skim the shoreline in a sidestep, like the crab,
Forgetting our preoccupation with forwards and back.
The ocean sweeps over us and offers to dilute us,
To banish our complexities and itches,
To become uncontained and happy for it.
Thursday, 14 August 2014
Kurt Vonnegut on creativity
Kurt Vonnegut (1922 - 2007) was an American author and humanist. I imagine his passion for humanitarian issues may have grown after witnessing the allied firebombing of Dresden towards the end of World War II. At the time, he was an American POW trapped in an underground meat locker. That's not the sort of thing that leaves you with a good impression of humanity. Please see my earlier blog on Slaughterhouse-Five for a link to more info on the Dresden Firebombing.
In addition to war,Vonnegut experienced other significant tragedies during his earlier years - his Mother committed suicide on Mother's Day while he was home on leave from the war in 1944. His sister Alice died of cancer only hours after her husband had died in a train crash.
Some of these experiences may lend themselves to Vonnegut's writing style - which typically centres around tragi-comic science fiction storylines. Vonnegut explained in an interview that his forays into outer space surrealism in 'Slaughterhouse-Five' were intended to provide relief to his reader, from the heavy subject of war. I can only imagine these tangents were first employed to provide relief to Vonnegut himself, who had lived first-hand the horrors of war he was tackling in his fiction. The art of fiction itself was perhaps a way to cope with what he had encountered. Art gave Vonnegut the possibility to create something meaningful to share from such utter destruction. Perhaps, in a sense, he was able to escape the heavy burden of what he had witnessed by releasing it to the world.
Read more about Vonnegut's life and career here.
All I really wanted to share here was Vonnegut's below words on creativity, which I love.
In addition to war,Vonnegut experienced other significant tragedies during his earlier years - his Mother committed suicide on Mother's Day while he was home on leave from the war in 1944. His sister Alice died of cancer only hours after her husband had died in a train crash.
Some of these experiences may lend themselves to Vonnegut's writing style - which typically centres around tragi-comic science fiction storylines. Vonnegut explained in an interview that his forays into outer space surrealism in 'Slaughterhouse-Five' were intended to provide relief to his reader, from the heavy subject of war. I can only imagine these tangents were first employed to provide relief to Vonnegut himself, who had lived first-hand the horrors of war he was tackling in his fiction. The art of fiction itself was perhaps a way to cope with what he had encountered. Art gave Vonnegut the possibility to create something meaningful to share from such utter destruction. Perhaps, in a sense, he was able to escape the heavy burden of what he had witnessed by releasing it to the world.
Read more about Vonnegut's life and career here.
All I really wanted to share here was Vonnegut's below words on creativity, which I love.
Tuesday, 10 September 2013
Theatre Review: CHIMERICA
Harold Pinter Theatre
Written by Lucy Kirkwood
Dir. Lyndsey Turner
Lucy Kirkwood is one talented young lady. Born in 1984, Kirkwood is only a few months my senior. This makes me feel deeply impressed and provides a welcome reminder that hard work and passion pay off. Kirkwood has produced an inventive, thought-provoking play that is currently receiving rave reviews from critics and public alike. And yes, I am about to write another such review.
Chimerica is not Kirkwood’s first play, but for those that hadn’t heard her name following previous successes, this will be the one to blow her out the water. It was first staged in May at the Almeida theatre, and has now moved to The Harold Pinter Theatre, where it is showing until October. Born in Leytonstone in 1984, Lucy graduated from Edinburgh University with a degree in English Literature. She is currently a writer in residence at Clean Break Theatre Company. She wrote and starred in her first play Grady Hot Potato in 2005. Kirkwood has since written other plays, many with dark undercurrents. Her 2009 production It Felt Empty When The Heart Went At First But It Is Alright Now, staged at The Arcola Theatre, provided a moving commentary on sex trafficking. Kirkwood is not shy to pick up bleak and difficult themes, and she tackles them with a sensitivity and humour that make them enjoyable for audiences.
So, what is so good about Kirkwood's latest production, Chimerica?
Well, the script for starters. The story centres on an iconic image taken during the Tiananmen Square protests in China in 1989. A well-dressed civilian, presumably on his way home from work with plastic shopping bags in tow confronts three tanks, standing directly in their path. The play opens with Joe Schofield (Stephen Campbell Moore), an aspiring photojournalist snapping the shot from his hotel window. The story shifts to some years later when Joe returns to China on a visit. China has changed. The play details a corporate and rapidly developing nation, seemingly intent on fitting the American consumerist mould. One of the play’s characters describes it as a nation that has gone “from famine to slimfast in one generation”.
The play recounts Joe’s obsessive search for ‘the tank man’ in his photograph. Joe’s boss Frank (Trevor Cooper) is not convinced when Joe pitches his idea as a ‘good-news, human courage’ scoop. That may be well and good, Frank responds, but it’s not what America is interested in paying for or reading unfortunately. Joe’s blinkered obsession reveals a preoccupation to find a meaning beyond the superficial growth and artifice that now embodies China, as well as America. It turns out that his idealistic interpretation of the image may be far from the truth of the situation. Kirkwood calls to question our interpretation of history, events and the world around us. She starts with a real photograph and exposes the many possible stories that exist behind it.
Kirkwood’s writing is relevant, accessible and jam-packed with witty one-liners to boot. Being funny is something tricky in writing, especially if you are writing about serious matters. You can easily over-bake it, making funny too deliberate and starchy. But here, the characters deliver punchy, off-the-cuff responses when interacting that jolted the audience into riffs of genuine laughter.
This production is innovatively staged and applause must be directed to stage designer Es Devlin. A rotating cube containing different rooms and spaces between America and China provides numerous set changes. Relevant city scenery is projected on the outer cube walls to enhance the wider geographic location and help to shift the movement between America and China.
The acting is superb. Stephen Campbell Moore plays the obsessively idealistic activist, Joe. Claudie Blakley gives a stand out performance as Tess. Benedict Wong, Trevor Cooper and Sean Gilder also shine brightly in fully fleshed out characters. Nothing left to say except to mention Lyndsey Turner who has stitched this play together in her accomplished and confident direction.
Go and see it.
Written by Lucy Kirkwood
Dir. Lyndsey Turner
Lucy Kirkwood is one talented young lady. Born in 1984, Kirkwood is only a few months my senior. This makes me feel deeply impressed and provides a welcome reminder that hard work and passion pay off. Kirkwood has produced an inventive, thought-provoking play that is currently receiving rave reviews from critics and public alike. And yes, I am about to write another such review.
Chimerica is not Kirkwood’s first play, but for those that hadn’t heard her name following previous successes, this will be the one to blow her out the water. It was first staged in May at the Almeida theatre, and has now moved to The Harold Pinter Theatre, where it is showing until October. Born in Leytonstone in 1984, Lucy graduated from Edinburgh University with a degree in English Literature. She is currently a writer in residence at Clean Break Theatre Company. She wrote and starred in her first play Grady Hot Potato in 2005. Kirkwood has since written other plays, many with dark undercurrents. Her 2009 production It Felt Empty When The Heart Went At First But It Is Alright Now, staged at The Arcola Theatre, provided a moving commentary on sex trafficking. Kirkwood is not shy to pick up bleak and difficult themes, and she tackles them with a sensitivity and humour that make them enjoyable for audiences.
So, what is so good about Kirkwood's latest production, Chimerica?
Well, the script for starters. The story centres on an iconic image taken during the Tiananmen Square protests in China in 1989. A well-dressed civilian, presumably on his way home from work with plastic shopping bags in tow confronts three tanks, standing directly in their path. The play opens with Joe Schofield (Stephen Campbell Moore), an aspiring photojournalist snapping the shot from his hotel window. The story shifts to some years later when Joe returns to China on a visit. China has changed. The play details a corporate and rapidly developing nation, seemingly intent on fitting the American consumerist mould. One of the play’s characters describes it as a nation that has gone “from famine to slimfast in one generation”.
The play recounts Joe’s obsessive search for ‘the tank man’ in his photograph. Joe’s boss Frank (Trevor Cooper) is not convinced when Joe pitches his idea as a ‘good-news, human courage’ scoop. That may be well and good, Frank responds, but it’s not what America is interested in paying for or reading unfortunately. Joe’s blinkered obsession reveals a preoccupation to find a meaning beyond the superficial growth and artifice that now embodies China, as well as America. It turns out that his idealistic interpretation of the image may be far from the truth of the situation. Kirkwood calls to question our interpretation of history, events and the world around us. She starts with a real photograph and exposes the many possible stories that exist behind it.
Kirkwood’s writing is relevant, accessible and jam-packed with witty one-liners to boot. Being funny is something tricky in writing, especially if you are writing about serious matters. You can easily over-bake it, making funny too deliberate and starchy. But here, the characters deliver punchy, off-the-cuff responses when interacting that jolted the audience into riffs of genuine laughter.
This production is innovatively staged and applause must be directed to stage designer Es Devlin. A rotating cube containing different rooms and spaces between America and China provides numerous set changes. Relevant city scenery is projected on the outer cube walls to enhance the wider geographic location and help to shift the movement between America and China.
The acting is superb. Stephen Campbell Moore plays the obsessively idealistic activist, Joe. Claudie Blakley gives a stand out performance as Tess. Benedict Wong, Trevor Cooper and Sean Gilder also shine brightly in fully fleshed out characters. Nothing left to say except to mention Lyndsey Turner who has stitched this play together in her accomplished and confident direction.
Go and see it.
Thursday, 15 August 2013
The beauty of being inappropriate
There is something truly delightful about inappropriate behaviour. Or at least the relatively harmless strand of it.
Life is full of social codes and rules put in place to determine our behaviour in certain situations. We learn them as we become adults as a means of coping and functioning well in society. But, have you ever noticed inappropriate urges dive-bombing into your consciousness at the least appropriate time? These urges always spring up suddenly, unexpectedly. They pounce, and it always feels as if the imagined action is on the tip of your tongue or niggling the end of your fingertips or toes, threatening to burst into public domain.
I'll give you an example:
I ordered a Chinese takeaway not long ago. The delivery man rang the doorbell. I opened the door. He stood on the doorstep, holding the white plastic takeaway bag out towards me and exclaimed:
"Dewivewwyyy" in a Chinese accent.
I caught myself just on the edge, as I realised that my instant urge was to mimic his exclamation, mirroring back what he had said in an impersonation of his accent. I wasn't being racist, it was just an urge that came from somewhere within. But it would have been massively rude and weird if I had. So I refrained, paid him and ate the food. Which was the normal thing to do.
The other day I was walking along the underground tunnel at the interchange between the Victoria and Piccadilly line. I had an instantaneous urge to strike out and punch the guy in front of me in the back of the head. For no apparent reason. I didn't do it, obviously. At work, when the office is quiet, I sometimes feel like standing up and singing a random tune like 'Coco Jambo' in an over-exaggerated and stupid singing voice. I never have. It would be fun when waiting at the back of a long queue in a shop to suggest everyone starts a game of 'Chinese Whispers'. I love it when a newsreader struggles to fight a fit of giggles or accidentally slips up on a word and says something inappropriate by accident.
My boyfriend told me about going to see some sections of Holst's 'The Planets' played live at The Royal Albert Hall with some friends. The support act had been an outfit playing on empty jars with drumsticks and suchlike. I can imagine some people probably enjoying it, the polite silence of others not enjoying it. There were probably stray claps, perhaps a few disapproving or confused glances exchanged quietly in the audience. Then someone stood up in the audience and shouted:
"THIS IS CRAAAAAAAAAP".
Even more fun than the inappropriate behaviour itself, is watching people's reactions. We have certain scripts and rules to our behaviour that feel safe and rehearsed, and we can act out appropriately. When these are broken we end up in the realm of the spontaneous. It's proof that anything can happen. It's sort of exciting. Most of us hold back from these urges, it is the obvious thing to do - unless you want everyone to think you're a 'nutter'. We try our best to snuff out the internal monologues that occur in our heads so that we can act out what it is we think we 'should' do to fit in and appear 'normal'. Mark and Jez from Peep Show always illustrate our internal battle so well.
Where do these inappropriate urges come from? When reading in bed last night a line stood out in my book that explained the notion well:
"one's rules of propriety make one thirst for the improper." - Mohsin Hamid, 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist'
Hamid employs this sentiment in an entirely different context. In his book, it relates to the conservative dress demanded of women in Pakistan and its possible effect on men and their desires. But...the line still made me smile as it makes sense here too and rings true. Confinement of our behaviour obviously creates an inner urge to break it.
Breaking the social code is usually awkward, shameful or embarrassing. But it can also be hilarious and exciting and break the monotony of what we expect from each other.
Life is full of social codes and rules put in place to determine our behaviour in certain situations. We learn them as we become adults as a means of coping and functioning well in society. But, have you ever noticed inappropriate urges dive-bombing into your consciousness at the least appropriate time? These urges always spring up suddenly, unexpectedly. They pounce, and it always feels as if the imagined action is on the tip of your tongue or niggling the end of your fingertips or toes, threatening to burst into public domain.
I'll give you an example:
I ordered a Chinese takeaway not long ago. The delivery man rang the doorbell. I opened the door. He stood on the doorstep, holding the white plastic takeaway bag out towards me and exclaimed:
"Dewivewwyyy" in a Chinese accent.
I caught myself just on the edge, as I realised that my instant urge was to mimic his exclamation, mirroring back what he had said in an impersonation of his accent. I wasn't being racist, it was just an urge that came from somewhere within. But it would have been massively rude and weird if I had. So I refrained, paid him and ate the food. Which was the normal thing to do.
The other day I was walking along the underground tunnel at the interchange between the Victoria and Piccadilly line. I had an instantaneous urge to strike out and punch the guy in front of me in the back of the head. For no apparent reason. I didn't do it, obviously. At work, when the office is quiet, I sometimes feel like standing up and singing a random tune like 'Coco Jambo' in an over-exaggerated and stupid singing voice. I never have. It would be fun when waiting at the back of a long queue in a shop to suggest everyone starts a game of 'Chinese Whispers'. I love it when a newsreader struggles to fight a fit of giggles or accidentally slips up on a word and says something inappropriate by accident.
This Dutch interviewer's laughter is on the dangerously offensive side of inappropriate, but he just can't help himself!
My boyfriend told me about going to see some sections of Holst's 'The Planets' played live at The Royal Albert Hall with some friends. The support act had been an outfit playing on empty jars with drumsticks and suchlike. I can imagine some people probably enjoying it, the polite silence of others not enjoying it. There were probably stray claps, perhaps a few disapproving or confused glances exchanged quietly in the audience. Then someone stood up in the audience and shouted:
"THIS IS CRAAAAAAAAAP".
Inappropriate audience laughter during a TEDex talk
Even more fun than the inappropriate behaviour itself, is watching people's reactions. We have certain scripts and rules to our behaviour that feel safe and rehearsed, and we can act out appropriately. When these are broken we end up in the realm of the spontaneous. It's proof that anything can happen. It's sort of exciting. Most of us hold back from these urges, it is the obvious thing to do - unless you want everyone to think you're a 'nutter'. We try our best to snuff out the internal monologues that occur in our heads so that we can act out what it is we think we 'should' do to fit in and appear 'normal'. Mark and Jez from Peep Show always illustrate our internal battle so well.
Mark desperately tries to hide his real feelings when Sophie breaks up with him in an episode of 'Peep Show'.
Where do these inappropriate urges come from? When reading in bed last night a line stood out in my book that explained the notion well:
"one's rules of propriety make one thirst for the improper." - Mohsin Hamid, 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist'
Hamid employs this sentiment in an entirely different context. In his book, it relates to the conservative dress demanded of women in Pakistan and its possible effect on men and their desires. But...the line still made me smile as it makes sense here too and rings true. Confinement of our behaviour obviously creates an inner urge to break it.
Breaking the social code is usually awkward, shameful or embarrassing. But it can also be hilarious and exciting and break the monotony of what we expect from each other.
Monday, 12 August 2013
The Sins of Literature: BBC Radio 4
This morning I caught an interesting programme on Radio 4 about the writing process.
It turns out it was the second segment of a three-part series. The last segment will be aired at 9am next Monday 19th August. Each slot is 30 minutes long and focuses on a particular 'sin' involved in the writing process. The segments are titled:
1) Thou Shalt Not Bore - first and most important rule of writing. If you are writing, you obviously want readers.
2) Thou Shalt Not Hide - writing is a weird way of life as it requires stepping outside life and into solitude - how do writers get the balance right to ensure that they don't turn into distracted public figures, or go the other way and become disconnected hermits?
3) Thou Shalt Not Steal - yeah, if you're going to write, try not to steal from someone else - it may seem obvious, but it can be harder to not do this than you may think.
The programme includes interviews with well-known authors about how they write and how they tackle each of the thematic problems.
Worth a listen...
Click here to listen to the 'Thou Shalt Not Hide' segment aired this morning.
I find different people's writing processes fascinating. Creativity is bred and nurtured differently in all of us. It is totally individual. Some people have set die-hard daily schedules. Those that don't usually develop some sort of funny little traditions or rules to cement a looser routine. Some people love background music. Others would never be able to pen a word with noise and need silence in order for words to unravel on the page.
One thing is certain - writing requires endless discipline and is actually the antithesis to life in many ways. This factor always reminds me why it's so hard to consistently pick up the pen. Sometimes I scold myself and think 'well I clearly don't want this enough do I? There is no way I'm dedicated enough to ever be a proper writer!' And maybe that is true. I enjoy the outside world of distractions too much at the moment, and am too restless and irritable in my own company during prolonged periods of time.
But, I do love writing. I always come back to it. Whether it ever becomes a money-making career for me or not, listening in to the radio this morning reminded me that I have a little niggle inside somewhere again saying 'please sit down and write something'. There is a story brewing. I have no idea what it's going to be about, but I never do until I start writing it.
It turns out it was the second segment of a three-part series. The last segment will be aired at 9am next Monday 19th August. Each slot is 30 minutes long and focuses on a particular 'sin' involved in the writing process. The segments are titled:
1) Thou Shalt Not Bore - first and most important rule of writing. If you are writing, you obviously want readers.
2) Thou Shalt Not Hide - writing is a weird way of life as it requires stepping outside life and into solitude - how do writers get the balance right to ensure that they don't turn into distracted public figures, or go the other way and become disconnected hermits?
3) Thou Shalt Not Steal - yeah, if you're going to write, try not to steal from someone else - it may seem obvious, but it can be harder to not do this than you may think.
The programme includes interviews with well-known authors about how they write and how they tackle each of the thematic problems.
Worth a listen...
Click here to listen to the 'Thou Shalt Not Hide' segment aired this morning.
I find different people's writing processes fascinating. Creativity is bred and nurtured differently in all of us. It is totally individual. Some people have set die-hard daily schedules. Those that don't usually develop some sort of funny little traditions or rules to cement a looser routine. Some people love background music. Others would never be able to pen a word with noise and need silence in order for words to unravel on the page.
One thing is certain - writing requires endless discipline and is actually the antithesis to life in many ways. This factor always reminds me why it's so hard to consistently pick up the pen. Sometimes I scold myself and think 'well I clearly don't want this enough do I? There is no way I'm dedicated enough to ever be a proper writer!' And maybe that is true. I enjoy the outside world of distractions too much at the moment, and am too restless and irritable in my own company during prolonged periods of time.
But, I do love writing. I always come back to it. Whether it ever becomes a money-making career for me or not, listening in to the radio this morning reminded me that I have a little niggle inside somewhere again saying 'please sit down and write something'. There is a story brewing. I have no idea what it's going to be about, but I never do until I start writing it.
Thursday, 27 June 2013
How could I forget...
my favourite book from all of those I have read over the past few months?
This is Huxley's final novel, published in 1962. I urge you to read it. Keep in mind when it was written when you do.
Literature often provides a platform for the individual to voice their discontent. Many authors have written successful and haunting dystopian novels, drawing on elements of our reality to create terrifying portraits of the possible destiny of modern humanity. George Orwell's '1984', Margaret Atwood's 'A Handmaid's Tale' and Aldous Huxley's 'Brave New World' are favourites among many.
But how many writers can give us their vision of dystopia and follow up with an alternative offering into a possible utopia?
In 'Island', cynical journalist Will Farnaby is shipwrecked on 'Pala' (a fictional island in the Pacific Ocean). Farnaby has been sent to explore the land for its potential oil reserves. The motor of the outside world is running on empty and here, the peaceful islanders have not yet plundered the land. Through the course of the novel Will learns about the way of life on Pala. As the Islanders open his eyes to an alternative way of life, he wonders whether the outside world could benefit from a similar education.
Huxley's antithesis to 'Brave New World' reveals a society where Eastern philosophy meets Western science. Violence and weapons are banned, as is needless materialism. Children learn 'the yoga of love' and selective industrialisation is implemented to meet basic human needs such as nutrition and food storage. People take 'moksha medicine' to aid their enlightenment and practice Buddhism. They strive to attain enlightenment through constantly working towards awareness; of their own bodies, minds, and the world around them. The Palanese people have ultimately built a society that aims to dissipate collective human fears by sharing, learning and understanding them. It seems that when fear is removed, greed and the need for power and attachment disappear too. People accept who they are so they no longer need panic-fuelled crutches to assert their importance and make them feel worthwhile. The Islanders are able to find peace with their place in the chaos of the natural world, rather than fight against it.
I like the way this guy writes:
"spongy seats for spongy bottoms - at home, in the office, in cars and bars, in planes and trains and buses. No moving of legs, no struggles with distance and gravity - just lifts and planes and cars, just foam rubber and an eternity of sitting. The life force that used to find an outlet through striped muscle gets turned back on the viscera and the nervous system, and slowly destroys them."
This book highlighted our obsessive need as humans for control. For whatever reason, humans have been given the gift of consciousness. No other animal seems as aware or conscious of its own existence as we do. What we choose to do with this consciousness is up to us. That's where the fear steps in. One thing is clear, with responsibility, comes fear. The idea that we are free and have the power to choose actually terrifies us more than anything else. Why else are so many of us so desperate to believe in a God above us? So that we may find a reason for our actions, and a responsible party outside ourselves. Rather than look at the fear, we have tried our utmost to bury it. We build cities, surround ourselves with manmade things, suckle oil from the earth like desperate overgrown babies and farm animals so we can get nice and plump and show them who's boss while we're at it. Huxley indicates that this "gift" of consciousness could be nurtured in an alternative way. If we learned to understand ourselves, we may see that there is in fact a higher order. It is not us, as we have tried to assert, but if we stop pretending we are the higher order, we can definitely be part of it. It might be a better idea than trying to destroy it?
Unfortunately, in the novel, the future of the island lies in the hands of Murugan, a greedy teen who is set to be the next Raja. Murugan represents the hoodwinked greed and naivety of capitalism. He is drawn to the ways of the outside world and has links with Colonel Dippa, the military-backed ruler on the large and developed 'Rendang' island next door. Murugan provides the ultimate example of how power corrupts.
Some quotes that illustrate Huxley's philosophy in the novel:
"Abstract materialism - that's what you profess. Whereas we make a point of being materialist concretely - materialistic on the wordless levels of seeing and touching and smelling, of tensed muscles and dirty hands."
"Armaments, universal debt and planned obsolescence - those are the three pillars of Western prosperity. If war, waste and money-lenders were abolished, you'd collapse. And while you people are over-consuming, the rest of the world sinks more and more deeply into chronic disaster. Ignorance, militarism and breeding, these three - and the greatest of these is breeding. No hope, not the slightest possibility, of solving the economic problem until that's under control."
"But the underdeveloped countries aren't committed. They don't have to follow your example. They're still free to take the road we've taken - the road of applied biology, the road of fertility control and the limited production and selective industrialization which fertility control make possible, the road that leads to happiness from the inside out, through health, through awareness, through a change in one's attitude towards the world; not towards the mirage of happiness from the outside in, through toys and pills and non-stop distractions. They could still choose our way; but they don't want to, they want to be exactly like you, God help them."
Island - Aldous Huxley
This is Huxley's final novel, published in 1962. I urge you to read it. Keep in mind when it was written when you do.
Literature often provides a platform for the individual to voice their discontent. Many authors have written successful and haunting dystopian novels, drawing on elements of our reality to create terrifying portraits of the possible destiny of modern humanity. George Orwell's '1984', Margaret Atwood's 'A Handmaid's Tale' and Aldous Huxley's 'Brave New World' are favourites among many.
But how many writers can give us their vision of dystopia and follow up with an alternative offering into a possible utopia?
In 'Island', cynical journalist Will Farnaby is shipwrecked on 'Pala' (a fictional island in the Pacific Ocean). Farnaby has been sent to explore the land for its potential oil reserves. The motor of the outside world is running on empty and here, the peaceful islanders have not yet plundered the land. Through the course of the novel Will learns about the way of life on Pala. As the Islanders open his eyes to an alternative way of life, he wonders whether the outside world could benefit from a similar education.
Huxley's antithesis to 'Brave New World' reveals a society where Eastern philosophy meets Western science. Violence and weapons are banned, as is needless materialism. Children learn 'the yoga of love' and selective industrialisation is implemented to meet basic human needs such as nutrition and food storage. People take 'moksha medicine' to aid their enlightenment and practice Buddhism. They strive to attain enlightenment through constantly working towards awareness; of their own bodies, minds, and the world around them. The Palanese people have ultimately built a society that aims to dissipate collective human fears by sharing, learning and understanding them. It seems that when fear is removed, greed and the need for power and attachment disappear too. People accept who they are so they no longer need panic-fuelled crutches to assert their importance and make them feel worthwhile. The Islanders are able to find peace with their place in the chaos of the natural world, rather than fight against it.
I like the way this guy writes:
"spongy seats for spongy bottoms - at home, in the office, in cars and bars, in planes and trains and buses. No moving of legs, no struggles with distance and gravity - just lifts and planes and cars, just foam rubber and an eternity of sitting. The life force that used to find an outlet through striped muscle gets turned back on the viscera and the nervous system, and slowly destroys them."
This book highlighted our obsessive need as humans for control. For whatever reason, humans have been given the gift of consciousness. No other animal seems as aware or conscious of its own existence as we do. What we choose to do with this consciousness is up to us. That's where the fear steps in. One thing is clear, with responsibility, comes fear. The idea that we are free and have the power to choose actually terrifies us more than anything else. Why else are so many of us so desperate to believe in a God above us? So that we may find a reason for our actions, and a responsible party outside ourselves. Rather than look at the fear, we have tried our utmost to bury it. We build cities, surround ourselves with manmade things, suckle oil from the earth like desperate overgrown babies and farm animals so we can get nice and plump and show them who's boss while we're at it. Huxley indicates that this "gift" of consciousness could be nurtured in an alternative way. If we learned to understand ourselves, we may see that there is in fact a higher order. It is not us, as we have tried to assert, but if we stop pretending we are the higher order, we can definitely be part of it. It might be a better idea than trying to destroy it?
Unfortunately, in the novel, the future of the island lies in the hands of Murugan, a greedy teen who is set to be the next Raja. Murugan represents the hoodwinked greed and naivety of capitalism. He is drawn to the ways of the outside world and has links with Colonel Dippa, the military-backed ruler on the large and developed 'Rendang' island next door. Murugan provides the ultimate example of how power corrupts.
Some quotes that illustrate Huxley's philosophy in the novel:
"Abstract materialism - that's what you profess. Whereas we make a point of being materialist concretely - materialistic on the wordless levels of seeing and touching and smelling, of tensed muscles and dirty hands."
"Armaments, universal debt and planned obsolescence - those are the three pillars of Western prosperity. If war, waste and money-lenders were abolished, you'd collapse. And while you people are over-consuming, the rest of the world sinks more and more deeply into chronic disaster. Ignorance, militarism and breeding, these three - and the greatest of these is breeding. No hope, not the slightest possibility, of solving the economic problem until that's under control."
"But the underdeveloped countries aren't committed. They don't have to follow your example. They're still free to take the road we've taken - the road of applied biology, the road of fertility control and the limited production and selective industrialization which fertility control make possible, the road that leads to happiness from the inside out, through health, through awareness, through a change in one's attitude towards the world; not towards the mirage of happiness from the outside in, through toys and pills and non-stop distractions. They could still choose our way; but they don't want to, they want to be exactly like you, God help them."
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