The Night Circus

Having not picked up a book in...too long in August, and despairing on my trip to Paris because this meant I had nothing to read over the weekend (for those of you reading between the lines, yes, it's Sabbath), and I had to do with tatty comics at the hotel lobby, I was relieved when my brother purchased a copy of a random bestelleling novel at the airport coming back to Madrid. That, and a Time magazine to get some 'serious' update on the Syria problem (the article is pretty good, but more like a historical article rather than an opinion column or whatever. I thought Time was deeper than that...but anyway). The book he bought was 'The Night Circus' by Erin Morgenstern (there was a Rabbi names Morgenstern where I studied in Israel this summer. HiLArious.) The front cover was intriguing enough, if not a little girly, and taking advantage of my brother's interest in Time, I started reading as soon as I pulled it out of the bag. I's five hundred pages or so long, an easy and quick read, and I must say, like Cloud Atlas, I devoured it. It's a love story in a fantastical atmosphere where magic and lve intertwine to hold our planet together in ways we can only imagine. If I had to describe the book in one word it would be: goosebumps. Because that was the word that was stuck in my brain all through the book. Goosebumps. The richness of the language had such an elegant flow to it, the metamorphosis of each character so subtle yet clear by the end of each seciton, and the beautiful colours and dense description. The world I got lost in in 'The Night Circus' was utterly luscious and delectable. It's definitely a book I'll be reading again, just to get lost in the circus' black-and-silver tepees, and see the colourful acrobats do their thing, and fall in love with Marco. No, it isn't a book that makes you think, let alone draw any insightful/deep conclusions, but it's a gorgeous read, and truly inspiring in the sophisticated way it's written.

Universities in the UK are unsurprisingly obsessed with their applicants reading. Reading is great (evidently), but I truly had absolutely NO idea what to read for an architecture application. So, I did what any UK university applicant thinking about embelishing their personal statement would (probably) do; I went onto the Cambridge architecture course website and searched for recommended reads. Amongst the list, 'Body, Memory and Architecture' by Kent C. Bloomer and Charles W. Moore. My dear mother purchased a second hand edition in perfect conditions on Amazon (Yale Univesity Press). I had read the first chapter twice, but it was only today chilling at the beach that I actually grasped the essence of the book; the way in which space interacts with not only the person, but the human body, how the home is the extension of man, and every part of a home represents something human. Beautiful, no? Next is the definition of beauty. The chapter seemingly has little to do with aarchitecture, but soon goes into arguing the fact that architecture used to be considered a mere science, not an art, and only later was pragmatic mechanics of a building with a purpose considered beautiful. And only after THIS was the pragmatic mechanics of a building with a purpose combined with basic aesthetics to create an alteration of space which can be considered art in the eyes of everyone who encounters it. It's really well written, no joke, especially for those who think about studying the art of altring space...

Keep reading.

This weekend I finally got through Huxley's 'A Brave New World'. It was hard to get through at first, as previously mentioned but it wasn't bad in the end! Not my favorite book but I was really happy to find that I was capable of getting most of the the Shakespeare references, in particular his 'The Tempest', which I had to learn off by heart for a school production last March (standing ovation for my English teacher). I got goosebumps when John gets all excited about going to London, and quotes Miranda's speech: 'O wonder...O brave new world that has such goodly creatures in it...' Or something along those lines, to which I, Prospero, had to respond: '`Tis new to thee'. Then all the witty references of chastity and purity to Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and Othello, I'm pretty sure, as well as part of Hamlet's famous monologue, 'To be or not to be, whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer...'. John is a pretty awesome character. You feel sorry for him, so good looking, high cheekbones, dirty blonde hair, a bit scrawny but his self confidence draws one's attention away from that (that was how I imagined him at least!) And let's not forget extremely intelligent and keen, an avid Shakespeare reader and a man with morals and principals people should envy and strive to follow. HOWEVER, Huxley's constant reference to Shakespeare is...too constant? Sometimes the guy just seems pedantic, as if he were trying too hard to make a point of showing off his extreme literary knowledge. It reminded me a lot of Fowle's 'The Fremnch Lieutenant's Woman', where Fowle's struggles to shut up and get on with the novel. About forty per cent of the book is the author going on about history and general culture in a tone in which franakly, you feel like closing the book and putting it away in a safe, close the safe, eat the key and never think about the book again. Luckily for him, he is a good writer, and 'The French Lietenant's Woman' has a style which is extremely attractive to the reader, at least, to me. I thought the ending was brilliant (or should I say, endings?).
 Anyway, so that was my experience with Huxley's 'A Brave New World'. It's definitely a necessary book to have read at some point in your life, probably when undergoing religious apathy...it speaks to one, in that sense, if you let it speak to you.
Keep expressing!

I finished the essay on the individual! So anyone looking for ways in which the state controls the individual within Orwell's totalitarian '1984', you're in luck, because here it is in all its glory! Enjoy it and I REALLY hope you like it (writing essays during summer holidays it totally not cool.)

“In what ways does the state control the individuals in 1984 and what effects does these have on them?”

Orwell’s celebrated ‘1984’ explores an unnerving dystopian future in which the utopian ideal of communism is imposed upon every individual to run the state. The control of the individual is one of the themes explored in detail within the novel, and Orwell’s extended use of symbolism through certain objects and concepts lead one to understand to what extent the state controls the individual under the regime of Big Brother.

Possibly the most striking object described in the first chapter are the telescreens; an ‘oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall’. The detailed description of the object lead one to understand its importance, yet the third-person narration conveys a sense of familiarity, as Winston is not omnipresent in the narration of the description. The fact that Winston is indifferent to the presence of the telescreens create an unnerving sense of foreboding, as one is gradually lead to imagine a world in which one’s movements are all recorded by the telescreens: “…[the telescreen] could be dimmed but there was no way of shutting it off completely.” Oceanians are constantly being monitored, and together with the telescreens, the imposing police patrol survey the city in their helicopters, “like bluebottle[s] […] [darting] away again with a curving flight.” Again, Winston’s indifference is apparent within the text, altered only at the mention of the Thought Police, which seems like an opinion uttered by Winston himself in spite of the third-person narration: “The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered.” The narration subtly shifts from a relation of facts to an opinion, in which Winston evidently plays a part. The presence of the patrols as well as the telescreens seem like concepts which are familiar to Winston, and therefore to the rest of the Oceanians, as one is merely being introduced to a new dystopian universe where the narrated facts are the only source of information. At the mention of the Thought Police, however, one comes to understand the deep-rooted fear this has on the Oceanians, as not only are their movements and expressions being monitored, but also their most intimate thoughts, which can be heavily sanctioned, as is suggested in the first chapter: “Only the Thought Police mattered.”

            The concept of the Thought Police itself explicitly demonstrates to what extent the state controls the individual, yet all that it implies reaches a deeper point which shows that the individual is controlled to an unimaginable extent: the members of the Thought Police are anonymous, and their utter dedication and passion towards the party is apparent through their ruthless ability to deceive and betray. Such is the case of Mr. Charrington, the owner of the antique shop where Winston ironically purchased the journal he began to materialize his hate for the state in: “It occurred to Winston that for the first time in his life he was looking, with knowledge, at a member of the Thought Police.” Before meeting Julia, Winston even believed that ‘the dark-haired girl’ was a member of the Thought-Police herself, and he as an individual is set upon the need to use violence to wipe her out: “He could keep on her track till they were in some quiet place, and then smash her skull in with a cobblestone.” In this way, Winston himself is consumed with paranoia, and therefore controlled by the state.

 The built-in mechanism of betrayal amongst individuals is fruit of the education the state gives the younger generations, as is revealed through Winston’s neighbors’ children: “ ‘You’re a traitor!’ yelled the boy. ‘You’re a thought-criminal! You’re a Eurasian spy! I’ll shoot you, I’ll vaporize you, I’ll send you to the salt mines!’”. The striking way in which the public automatically accepts the fact that chocolate rations had been raised instead of lowered may also be considered as an end result of what is the state’s uncanny ability to brainwash the absolute majority of individuals from a younger and therefore more vulnerable age.

            The state’s education on the new generations begin with the simple art of propaganda, where London is covered with posters of Big Brother-a mysterious character who takes up the role of a god within the state. Individuals are convinced through posters, events such as ‘Hate Week’ and daily routines involving the ‘Two Minutes Hate’ that Big Brother is a source of guaranteed protection and as long as He looks upon them from the posters and telescreens, no harm can be done to them. Furthermore, Winston’s job, which involves tampering with old articles and first hand sources in order to rewrite history leads the entire population to doubt their very thoughts, as hard evidence slowly ceases to exist.

The state’s reasons for brainwashing the population is revealed to its full extent prior to Winston’s arrest, where he is taken, ironically, to the Ministry of Love. Here, he learns from the mouth of O’brien, one who was considered an ally to his morals, of the way in which the state is run, imposed upon everyone, and therefore one encounters a logical explanation for the existence of the Thought Police: “ ‘…why do you imagine that we bring people to this place? […] Not merely to extract your confession nor to punish you. […] To cure you! To make you sane! […] We do not merely destroy our enemies, we change them.’” Orwell’s totalitarian view of the future within the novel is one where not only is Big Brother’s political system is imposed upon every individual, but he who shows any symptom of disagreeing with it, even subconsciously, as is the case of Parsons, is to be tortured and reeducated till he believes that his past self was mentally deranged and that the state has cured him of some disease. The latter also carries some explanation to the fact that people praise Big Brother for their ‘chocolate rations being raised’, when Winston is certain that they had been lowered earlier within the novel, and is lead to doubt his sanity as he looks at those surrounding him who are happily accepting the erroneous information.

It remains that the totalitarian state within Orwell’s ‘1984’ goes through drastic measures to control every single individual through the means of brainwashing to the extent where even the reader doubts the very source of their own thoughts. Although the measures taken up by the state vary in gravity, they are all present with a common aim: to abolish the idea of freedom of thought without it being apparent to any individual, and thus to eliminate the actual concept of an ‘individual’. In this way, the individual is affected in a similar manner with every manner taken; slowly, the individual comes to understand how wrong he is as a person, and that his mental state is being soothed by the state to make it right.