Suzanne Collins - The Hunger Games

Oh sweet temptation, I cave to thee ever so oft', and yet, how scarcely do I regret it. A tinge of embarrassment, possibly, and an element of judging the fool that wears my shoes does creep in, but that's alright. That's alright. This book has caught my attention numerous times since it hit the stands a couple of years ago, and each time, I picked it up, put it back on the shelf and moved on. About three weeks back though, desperate to try and find something that would complete my three-for-two purchase at Waterstones, this was picked up. Allow me a moment of sentimentality, for it's a dilemma I might never face again, with the three-for-two scheme coming to a close.

What do you say about a book where the writing is ordinary at best, the plot supposedly unoriginal (inspired by the Japanese novel, Battle Royale), and a book which is aimed at young adults about survival?

Kill or be killed. "Last man standing" wins. Innocent people die. Innocent children die. It's a far cry from the days of Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, where justice was always served; from the days of Sweet Valley which was just high school fluff; from Roald Dahl where the villainous characters always got what was coming to them as they were purely outsmarted or outwitted by brilliant children.

Maybe you put that into perspective, with the Harry Potter books, where the innocent died at the hands of Lord Voldemort, and it was left to The Boy That Lived and his friends to avenge their family and friends, and protect the world of wizardry from the Dark Lord and Death Eaters.

In a futuristic society, North America has been replaced by the twelve districts of Panem. Every year, two teenagers (a boy and a girl) from each district are chosen to participate in a reality TV series (will we never escape those?): The Hunger Games. The objective of the Games is simple: the last teenager still standing wins, and the way to ensure victory and your own survival is to kill others your own age, who haven't committed any crimes, who've done nothing wrong.

In District 12, the poorest of the Districts, Katniss' younger sister is called upon to represent her district. Katniss immediately volunteers in her place, protective of her younger sister. The other representative from the district is Petra - the baker's son. The two go to the Capitol, show-off their skills, eat more than they've ever eaten and see more luxury than they've ever seen. They prepare for the Games, honing their existing skills, and trying to build new ones, as they meet the other tributes - the other representatives.

And then the Games begin.

People from the different districts group together, and hunt in packs, and like in any other dystopia, it's cringeworthy to see how naturally people do anything to survive, even though it's the monsters at the Capitol who have ensured this lunacy occurs year after year, as a punishment for a rebellion that occurred years ago. The book is gripping, as everyone wants to the girl who volunteered to take her younger sister's place to emerge victorious. It's not that the others should die (although a couple of them are truly obnoxious), but, the rules are simple.

Obviously, as the case is, with most fiction (young adult or otherwise), there's a parallel love story, as all the tributes battle for survival and the pride that comes with emerging victorious. It's these parallel - sometimes unnecessary - love stories that make these books slightly trying. Same thing with Harry Potter and the Harry-Ginny, Hermione-Ron thing - what was the point? What did it accomplish? Such a tame ending to the seventh book.

I digress.

There's a love story, here as well, but possibly, what Collins has done is, made this love story the base for the second and third books of the trilogy (which I have also finished and will pen down my thoughts on, in due course); the base for the Capitol's anger; and the base for the events that follow - but no spoilers here. Not yet anyway.

I'd recommend this book, in all its entertaining glory. It's not great reading, by any stretch of the imagination, but a book this entertaining and gripping deserves a read.

Margaret Atwood - Oryx and Crake

Oryx and CrakeIt was in September 2009 when I purchased Atwood's Oryx and Crake, and it's been sitting on my shelf since, feeling slightly neglected. I've heard mixed reviews about the book, so procrastination played its part in the delay, but I finally did pull it out, being in the mood for some post-apocalyptic fiction. My Atwood point-of-reference is The Handmaid's Tale, a book I can't recommend enough, and considering that, I thought this fell slightly short of my expectations. It might be because The Handmaid's Tale sets an incredibly high standard. I mean, all said and done, Oryx and Crake was shortlisted for both, the Booker Prize and the Orange Prize.

There's Jimmy, who has witnessed (and played a part in)the apocalypse, and is the lone human survivor, along with the children of Crake (called Crakers), and many genetically modified animals, including pigoons (a cross between pigs and raccoons used to harvest organs), rakunks (a cross between rats and skunks, which have no purpose but to serve as pets) and scary wolvogs. He reflects on the past and how he's ended up where he is, as he tries to figure out a way to survive this new reality.

Jimmy's childhood is an exaggeration of life as we know it: Online gaming and communities, pornography, watching live execution channels, playing chess and just hanging out with Crake, his closest friend. Yet, he grows up in a compound where pigoons were created and continue to be genetically modified so as to harvest more organs, and he has a rakunk as a pet. Negligent parents, no siblings, same story.

Yet, where Jimmy is ordinary, Crake is extraordinary. He is competitive, intelligent, and envisages a futuristic society where immortality can be contemplated.

Immortality [...] is a concept. If you take ‘mortality’ as being, not death, but the foreknowledge of it and the fear of it, then ‘immortality’ is the absence of such fear.

And, he conceives a world where the inhabitants are inherently nonchalant about sex and violence. They are stronger, prettier, more resilient, and can handle the stronger UV rays after the ozone layer depletes. Then, he plays god, and so, the children of Crake are born. Crake's focus on science and complete disregard of humanity as is (must end the world to create a better one philosophy) is almost scary. At what point does anyone have the right to play god? And who, if anyone, is there to check him? It might not be possible as things stand, but what if a couple of centuries later, someone did figure out how to bring "better" people into the world? Or, why not just leave life to evolution? Is that being too boring?

"As a species we're doomed by hope, then?"

"You could call it hope. That, or desperation."

"But we're doomed without hope as well," said Jimmy.

"Only as individuals," Crake said cheerfully.

"Well, it sucks."

"Jimmy, grow up."

Crake wasn't the first person who had ever said that to Jimmy.

While the Crakers were still being "developed" and taught, the deadly virus strikes, killing everyone but Jimmy, who has never interacted with them earlier, but has promised Oryx that he would take care of them, if disaster struck. It's almost as though she knew what was coming...

Oryx - the sole female protagonist - stayed calm, composed and unearthly throughout the book. Not prone to any extremisms, and in a state of perpetual indifference, Oryx almost came across as a robot. Strange as she had been sold by her parents to a gentleman, and eventually ended up as a child porn star, after which she encountered a string of unpleasant things. But her lack of emotions just made her seem too far and too distant from reality (whereas, I think, the gross exaggeration of Jimmy's childhood gets the reader closer to him).

And so - when Oryx and Crake, and everyone else die, Jimmy starts looking after the Crakers and answering the multitude of questions they throw his way - most of the answers he just makes up as he goes along. Crake has a god-like status amidst his "children" and Jimmy (or Snowman as he is now known) a demi-god-like status. He tries to use it to his advantage, but he really does try to do the right thing. That's what makes Jimmy's character slightly blasé: things happen around him in spite of him. He is not a catalyst, he is not the chemical - he's just the neutral, watching things unfold.

I think that's where my problem with the book lay  the characters! I found I cared little, if at all, about them. Honestly, the only character that seemed to have a real role was Crake, but the narrative was such that it didn't give us much insight into him. Instead, the narrative centred around Jimmy and his battles as he lives with the Crakers by the beach, trying desperately to just - survive. Just thinking aloud - I think it would have been extremely interesting if the book was written from the point of view of Crake, and what was driving him. We get a high-level insight into his philosophies, but... I felt as though I needed more.

What are your favourite dystopian novels? Which would you recommend over all else?

John Wyndham - The Chrysalids

john_wyndham, the_chrysalids

When I was quite small I would sometimes dream of a city -which was strange because it began before I even knew what a city was.

So opens John Wyndham's post-nuclear catastrophe dystopian novel, as narrated by David, a child living in a small place called Labrador. Not much is known about the nuclear war, how humanity survived, and the extent of the damage done. That's all in the past - all that matters is the present state of affairs, the present society, where mutation of any form is illegal, and anyone "different" is sent out to the Fringes and cast away from society.

It's a religious society, which staunchly believes that "any creature that shall seem to be human, but is not formed thus is not human. it is neither man nor woman. It is blasphemy against the true Image of God, and hateful in the sight of God," and David's father is one of those people who follows this to the tee. Everyone is taught the basic moralities of this society at a very young age:

Watch Thou for the Mutant

The Norm is the Will of God

The Devil is the Father of Deviation

and few, if any, question these maxims. However, when David befriends a "mutant," a girl with six toes, he starts puzzling over the ways of his world. Flowers, people and animals which are considered to be "deviant" are done away with, and even new born babies are inspected by the officials, before they are given the "certificate of humanity."

David himself is "different" though - he can telepathically communicate with a group of children (think Midnight's Children). When the authorities discover the "mutation" of this group of arguably gifted children, they flee to the Fringes, to escape the fate that awaits them in Labrador, with the Inspectors hot on their heels.

While this book is essentially an adventure story, it's also a discussion on human nature and society. If we juxtapose this against the present world, the two words that come to mind immediately are fundamentalism and conformity. The religion is laid out for everyone to follow, without them having a say in it. The Bible and another book, Repentances, survived the nuclear horror, and everyone is compelled to follow them, without challenging or contradicting any of their sayings. However, if we don't challenge society's beliefs or their norms, how do we figure out what's fair and what's right? How do we grow? How do we improve ourselves? And, if everyone is identical, and there's no tolerance for any "mutation,"  how do we evolve? How do we become a "developed" society?

I think those are the points Wyndham stresses on, as he creates this post-apocalyptic world. However, this book is fast-paced and essentially a thriller, so much so that the themes he discusses blend in with the story, and very much become a part of it: from the time David questions the beliefs of the society he belongs to, to the time he ponders Enlightment.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book - my first Wyndham incidentally. Post-apocalyptic dystopian novels seem to be a genre I rather "enjoy" (slightly warped?), so are there any other books you'd recommend? Or, any other books by Wyndham? Day of the Triffids and The Midwich Cuckoos are two that have been recommended to me recently.

José Saramago - Death At Intervals

Death At Intervals (also published as Death With Interruptions) is an extremely surreal book by the Nobel Laureate, José Saramago. In a country (not necessarily futuristic), people have stopped dying one new year's day, in spite of illness, accidents and life in general. The different strata of society react differently: people are initially joyous as they contemplate immortality; the religious people and the philosophers try debating it out - without death, what is the point of religion - and, the politicians, who try and figure out the socio-economic repercussions.

However, the implications of immortality are far severe than people initially realised, and while they resort to euthanasia, and taking relatives outside the country, in order to die a natural death, a new criminal organisation, the maphia, come into action, who provide the services of ensuring old, ill and suffering family members die.

The maphia would not be what it is had it failed to find a solution to the problem. It really is a shame, if you will allow us a brief aside, that the brilliant intellects leading these criminal organisations should have departed from the strait and narrow path of respect for the law and disobeyed the wise biblical precept that urges us to earn our daily bread by the sweat of our brow, but facts are facts, and while repeating adamastor's sad words, ah, but my heart is sick to tell the tale, we will set down here the distressing news of the trick deployed by the maphia to get round a difficulty which was, to all appearances, insoluble.

While the first half of this book asks the important philosophical questions about the importance of death, and debates euthanasia, the second half of the book has the anthropomorphic death herself as the narrator. The significance of "death" signing off with a "d" instead of "D" is also discussed, when she (yes, death is anthropomorphised as a female) sends a letter to a newspaper editor, where she says Death is far scarier and omniscient than she, herself.

She changes tactics, from ensuring no one dies to sending a letter to the victim a week prior to his death, so that he has sufficient time to wrap up his affairs. Of course, when it comes to death, a heads up might not be the best way forward....

I can't say I enjoyed the book despite its interesting premise though. It's not that I didn't enjoy it - I just found the writing really difficult to read at times (above quote withstanding). The punctuation is random, and even long conversations lacked quotations, so much so that I had to go back and re-read chunks to figure out the flow of the conversation.

Don't get me wrong - it is a fantastic book with captivating debates on politics, religion and economics, and I think it's one of those that would definitely be worth a re-read.

Have you read this book by Saramago? Or, any others? How do they compare? I think I'd like to try Blindness next....

David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas

In January 2009, I was introduced to the wonderful world of David Mitchell by a friend, who lent me the surreal number9dream - a book I absolutely loved. She proceeded to lend me Cloud Atlas next, and it's been sitting abandoned on my unread shelf for about a year now, as I've been reluctant to pick it up for a myriad of reasons - book bloggers everywhere rave about it calling it a favourite, it's considerably chunky at 529 pages, and, well, it's Mitchell's most acclaimed book yet. Anyhow, I finally picked it up about a week back, and rode the long roller-coaster that is this book - it's a heck of a ride, you're almost begging for it to finish (as, all said and done, it is a difficult book to read), but when you eventually do turn the last page, you want to experience it all over again.

The book comprises of six independent stories, that span centuries and the atlas, of which five are told in "halves," revolving around the central tale of the post-apocalyptic future, where humans are living as savages, after The Fall. In the first set of "halves", which goes chronologically, each story is read/seen by a character in the subsequent one. In the second set, the stories start moving backwards, so the characters end up reading/seeing the story that follows. Hence, the opening chapter of the book (the first incomplete half-story) is completed in the last chapter.

The common theme that runs through the book is the presence of a "comet-shaped birthmark" - a distinction present in the protagonist of each story. Does this suggest reincarnation? The existence of the soul across generations? Or, is that merely coincidental?

Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an’ tho’ a cloud’s shape nor hue nor size don’t stay the same it’s still a cloud an’ so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud's blowed from or who the soul'll be 'morrow?

The Pacific Journals of Adam Ewing {1850s} : A journal written by an American notary in the Pacific, who befriends an English surgeon as well as a stowaway Moriori. This story is cut off mid-sentence (and comes together nicely as the last chapter)...

Letters from Zedleghem {1931} : A young aspiring bankrupt composer, Robert Frobisher, goes to Belgium to apprentice with a famous composer, hoping to make some easy money, and simultaneously finding some success. Here, he discovers The Pacific Journals in the library...

Not only are there some romantic (and otherwise) twists in the tale, but, as Frobisher details his life in the Belgian estate to an old friend, Sixsmith (in the form of letters), the reader is introduced to Frobisher's biggest work, revolutionary or gimmicky: The Cloud Atlas Sextet.

Half Lives : The First Luisa Rey Mystery {1970s} : We move across the pond for this one, where Luisa Rey is a journalist, and is focusing on a big expose on the Swannekke Island Nuclear Plant in California. Sixsmith is the scientist who gave her the lead for the story, and in time, she reads the letters written to him by Frobisher. Luisa, trying to follow in her father's footsteps, seems to be hellbent on justice (consequentialism), even if it is at the expense of her own life.

The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish {present-day} : The focus shifts to present-day United Kingdom, where Timothy Cavendish is a struggling not-so-moral publisher, but, when he is tricked into admitting himself in an old-age home, with no way out, he starts trying to figure out the best way to escape, which leads to more trouble for him. A manuscript of The First Luisa Rey Mystery was sent to him by an author, and he's contemplating publishing it...

An Orison of Somni 451 {near future} : In this dystopia, where fabricants are slaves to purebloods, Somni 451 has ascended, and managed to develop her own personality, by acquiring immense knowledge. It's a story about the struggle of powers, the violence that emerges and the unfortunate state of things as they stand. She's not a partaker though, merely an observer, who recites her life-story to an Archivist. She was watching the film of Timothy Cavendish, when she was taken away...

Sloosha’s Crossin’ an’ Ev’rythin’ After {Post-apocalyptic future} : Zach'ry is the protagonist here, in a civilisation that considers Somni god, and Ol' Georgie the devil. Zach'ry and his family are savages, in awe of the Smarts, believing that the Soul either reincarnates or gets set to stone. Technology is a myth in this civilisation, and, the people mainly herd goats or the like, living in tribes in forests, fearing invasion and power struggles by the terrifying Kona.

This book is immense - the writing style in each of the stories changes significantly, so much so that they read as completely different stories : from Victorian formal english, peppered with ampersands and other shorthands, to pidgin english which I personally found quite annoying to read. However, each style seems to reflect the age it it set in, appropriately, as well as, the structure of each story seems to be similar to its genre. For example, the Luisa Rey mystery is written in numerous short chapters, much like an airport thriller, whereas, the post-apocalyptic narration is written as a rather long rant.

The common theme that binds these stories together soars above and beyond the comet-shaped birthmark. It's a story about power, domination, and the ultimate quest to rule. The stories stress on the selfishness of people, and how ultimately, this will lead to the inevitable apocalypse.

Yes, the devil shall take the hindmost until the foremost is the hindmost. In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul; for the human species, selfishness is extinction.

While I enjoyed this book, parts of the stories just didn't grab me, and I was left quite unsure as to what's going on, and how these stories are inter-linked together. Why isn't it just a book of short stories? A much less author might have done that... or, attempted six different novels, with completely different themes. However, Mitchell, managed to tie most of the loose ends together, and left me questioning my own existence, and the power of one individual. It's an ambitious work, but, in my opinion, Mitchell's managed to pull it off surprisingly well.

John Christopher - The Death Of Grass

Background: While this month, my blog entries seem to be focused a lot on the Take A Chance challenge, it's only because the challenge is up end of month, and I am actually trying to finish it. After this, I only have one more challenge to tackle, and I've already started the final book (David Guterson's East of the Mountain).

This is challenge#1, i.e. "Random Book Selection". My random directions included going to the fiction corner at Waterstones, and selecting the fourteenth book from the third shelf on the second book-case. Coming up with a Penguin Modern Classic, I think, was a shade of luck.

I don't normally compare or contrast books, but, the best way to define this book would be Lord of the Flies meeting The Road. Considering The Death of Grass was published in the 1950s, and The Road in the 21st century, it might not be the fairest statement, but, when I finished the book, that's the first thing that came to my mind.

Survival of the fittest. That's what it's about - even if it means civilised people killing their fellow citizens, contemplating leaving a young boy to die, heartlessly killing a couple, and keeping their eyes on reaching a "safe haven" of sorts. Finding comfort in the fact that they will be able to re-acquaint themselves with humanity upon reaching this haven, the protagonists (and their countrymen) resort to barbarism and anarchism, just to survive.

He stared up at her, incredulously, while she did so, and was still staring when the bullets began tearing through his body. He shrieked once or twice, and then was quiet. She went on firing until the magazine was exhausted. There was comparative silence after that, broken only by Mary's sobbing.

A developed country, England, is in turmoil, after the Chung-Li virus has wiped out all their "grass" and "grass crops," including rice and wheat. The Chung-Li virus has already caused widespread disruption in Asia, and the Europeans had seen them resort to their worst sides as the resulting famine ensured the lack of food for everyone. However, they attributed the disaster to the "lack of thoroughness" of the Asiatics, and figured that being in a developed country, they would never stoop so low.

The ecosystem is collapsing, but the government issues some false press that the virus is in control, in order to calm the civilians, and prevent them from panicking and acting out of haste. However, what the government has in mind is, for lack of better words, scary. Atomic bombs can deplete life; subsequently drastically decreasing the number of mouths to feed. Aid from the United States has come to a halt, and now, England is battling alone.

John Custance, an architect in London, on a heads up from a close friend, decides to make a break for his brother's farm in the North, with his family and close friends. There, he figures, they will all be safe, until the crisis is over, and they can return to normalcy.

However, what ensues begs the question: Can their lives ever return to what it used to be like? The journey up North is difficult, violent, and life-changing in every way imaginable. People kill for food, for shelter, for survival. The fall of the government has just led to people's darker sides taking over, and we see brutal scenes of rape, as well as, pure cold-blooded killing. Some members of the group are trying to hold on to their humanity. Some have left it behind, with the single goal of reaching the farm in mind.

This is a bleak depressing book, which makes me question my faith in humanity. When push comes to shove, will we resort to killing our own to survive? When the ecosystems break down, will we sacrifice everything that supposedly differentiates us from other beings, just to make it? Will we do anything in the world to protect our friends, families and loved ones? Even if it means compromising on the ideals we've always believed in?

Just as most of the book is bleak and disheartening, the ending is unbelievably despondent, and you're just left gaping, wondering how on earth did humanity end up like this. And then, you thank your stars that this is merely fiction...

...But, for how long?

Can you imagine killing someone in cold blood, just because they have shelter and food? And how would you react when you knew the odds were against you, but, you knew exactly what you had to do if you wanted to live another day?

Rating : A

Margaret Atwood - The Handmaid's Tale {Weekly Geeks Q&A}

I'm still playing catch-up on 13th June's Weekly Geeks. I know, I know, it's been about a month, and that's ample time to catch up! However, after this, I'll just have two more to do: Disgrace, and His Dark Materials. Am planning to re-read the latter this month, so might end up doing that one after!

Anyway, on with it...

From gautami tripathy:

The Handmaid’s Tale is one of the best books I have read. What did you think of it? Do you think it is possible? Can you see a future like that? Did it scare you?

I thought it was fantastic. It's well-written, a page-turner, and depicts a heavily dystopian futuristic society, which scared the living daylights out of me!

However, when you ask if I find it possible or not, I have to say, I don't. Maybe, it's only me, but I find the dystopias presented in 1984, Brave New World, and Fahrenheit 451 much more realistic than this. I know people have found this book scarily possible, but, in my opinion, the human race has progressed way too much, to let women be reduced to nothing but maids and handmaids ("Handmaids" are women who have only one purpose: conceive a child for the family that looks after her). With each generation, women are becoming more powerful, and more career-oriented, at the expense of not having families, and settling down. The world is becoming smaller, and the cries of democracy are louder than ever. I just can't see the government of the United States being overthrown, and replaced by this totalitarian nightmare. That said, I can see this happening in some extremist countries, where women are not allowed to drive, vote, or leave their house without a man.

I am not American, but, with today being 4th of July, one has to ask the question: can the 'leaders of the free world' ever be the polar opposite?

The book scares me. I think Offred, the protagonist, said something along the lines of many handmaids tend to commit suicide, instead of living life as they do - under constant pressure and no guarantees. To be honest, if I was ever unlucky to exist in a society like that, I'd probably just kill myself. Luckily, I don't think something this horrible will happen in my lifetime. For that, I'm grateful.

From Maree:

I loved The Handmaid’s Tale – did you find it scarily possible?

I didn't. I just can't see a society like that coming into existence. Maybe I'm in denial. Maybe I'm an optimist. But... I just don't see it!

From Kristen:

I have a slight fear of reading Margaret Atwood again – she’s so revered in Canada that it’s intimidating. Talk me into why I should read the Handmaid’s Tale :o)

Jeez, I'm not very convincing. :( I'll try though...

Atwood is probably revered in Canada for a reason: she's that good! That should be reason enough to read the book. What makes this book really special, is, realizing how lucky we are, as things stand. Feminism is rampant right now, and women are allowed to make their own decisions, with respect to what to wear, and when to settle down and have kids. Their choice isn't restricted to being a 'martha' (a maid), or a handmaid. Can you imagine having to flip a coin between those two options, and nothing else?

It's well-written, it's a page-turner, and Atwood's made the story as real as possible: from Offred being your regular American woman, to feeling semi-conscious seeing Japanese tourists in shorts (revealing their legs). Can people be conditioned that easily? Or, in a society where there are no choices, people just accept things the way they are to make their life that much easier? It raises some provocative questions, which you probably don't want to think about, and which will haunt you for a long long time.

Did I do a good job of talking you into it?

From Rebecca:

The Handmaid’s Tale haunted me for weeks after I read it. I loved it and don’t think I’ll ever forget it, but I know that not everyone feels that way. What was your reaction to it? Did you find it believable and frightening or too futuristic and extreme? How would you describe it in 1 or 2 sentences to someone who’s never heard of it before?

As already mentioned above, it scared me. A lot. More than I want to admit. I can't imagine ever living in a society like that, and frankly speaking, death might be more viable. But... I also thought it was out and out fiction, and too extremist to be 'real'.

Two sentence summary:

The United States has been replaced by the Republic of Gilead, a futuristic society, where women are reduced to being 'reproductive' machines for unknown men, and then give up the child to the wife of these men. Everyone knows what their purpose is... and ironically enough, most other women envy the 'handmaids' for the alternative is being a maid, and not being treated with dignity or respect.

From Jodie:

Why do you think so many dystopian novels set in the future find women subjugated once again? What did you think of the rich women’s complicity in the other women’s fate in The Handmaid’s Tale?

I don't know. Will we do the full 360, and go back to the beginning, where women are subjugated for their role in the 'Original Sin' again? Is there another episode that will replace the 'Original Sin'? Or, will some radical extremist group take over the world, and ensure that some of their customs regarding women will take precedence over what the Western world knows today.

Well, that's a tough one. I think it depends on the rich woman - they are dependent on the handmaid for one thing, and one thing only. While some of the rich women are likely to be grateful to their handmaid for providing them with a child - something they can now 'buy', they are not obliged to be so. Simultaneously, some women will hold the handmaids in contempt, for it cannot be easy for them to see their husband indulging in sexual activities with another woman, out of 'protocol'. Probably this coupled with their own sense of incompletion leads to the untoward fate of handmaids. Of course, if and when the handmaids are having an actual relationship with the husband, without the wife's knowledge, and she finds out, the fate is much worse....

George Orwell - Animal Farm

An anthropomorphic anti-Soviet social satire, this book stirred up a fair bit of controversy, and initially, a multitude of publishers refused to print it, fearing the repercussions of the act. The book focuses on the animals of Manor Farm, and how they go the full circle, from being owned by men and working for them, to being an animal democracy, and then the balance of power shifting again, to one of the species...

In the opening chapter, the Old Baron summons all the animals of Manor Farm one evening, after the farmer - Mr. Jones - has retired for the night. He then tells the animals of a dream where the animals are independent, and working for themselves, and not man. He then encourages them to plan a revolution to overthrow man, and take their fate in their own hands.

And that is exactly what these animals do, by running Mr. Jones out of the farm, and creating a democracy, with seven commandments:

  1. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy
  2. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend
  3. No animal shall ever wear clothes
  4. No animal shall ever sleep in a bed
  5. No animal shall ever drink alcohol
  6. No animal shall kill any other animal
  7. All animals are equal

This is the new improved farm - the Animal Farm - where the animals join forces and work for themselves. Pigs, deemed the most intellectual of all animals, are mutually considered to be the species who would educate the others, as well as plan out the best course of action for the farm. All in all, the animals were ecstatic that they had achieved this utopian dream, and news of their success spread far and wide.

However, soon enough, the pigs became the 'rulers' of this utopia, and started setting down the rules, often overriding the commandments, or adding an exception clause, without informing the other citizens. Napoleon, the elite ruler (who was meant to represent Stalin), with the help of Squealer (supposedly Molotov) started slowly brainwashing the other animals, and confusing them greatly; so much so, that, eventually a totalitarian regime emerged, but the animals didn't even realize what was happening. The final commandment was altered by the pigs to

All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

No animal was informed of this change, and none of them realized what was actually going on - be it because of their inherently trusting nature, or because of the pack of lies they were fed by the pigs-in-charge. I don't want to give away the ending of the book, but suffice it to say that the last line pretty much sums up the book in a nutshell.

This book explores the failure of communism, and how, while in theory it's utopian; in practice, it just ends up being a totalitarian dystopia (in the context of the Stalin rule, at least). It shows naivety of people, and how easy it is to muddle their thoughts by stretching the truth, or talking so confidently that they start doubting their own memories. For example, when the pigs moved into the Jones' house, and started sleeping on the beds, one of the animals was sure that there was a commandment that denounced this. When he went to the 'wall' where all the commandments were details, what he read was

No animal shall ever sleep in a bed with sheets.

Of course, the pigs denied using sheets.

What is really scary, though, is that the book is so convincing; that the animals are so quick to believe everything. Even when their food rations are decreased, their working hours increased, and the pigs are getting all the apples, they do not revolt against the pigs, for, they believe that it's better than working for the Jones'. Of course, no one quite recalls what that was like, and whether that was a better life, or worse.

While this book sounds political, it's not, really. As in, one can easily read it as a piece of fiction (a fairy tale, as one of its alternate titles suggest), and contemplate on some of the many points raised without matching up the main characters with their corresponding historical figures. Of course, the matching makes the book more interesting, but... I only ended up looking into who each character was after I finished it; more out of interest in the history of the Soviet Union, as opposed to because the book demanded it.

This book is a classic, and I think a definite must-read. It's practically been on every 'list' of must-reads and best books, and there's a reason why.

An 8 on 10, with my only complaints being that the book is overtly simplistic, and, not the reader is not completely clear as to who each character of the book is. Of course, if it was abundantly clear, the reader would complain that little is left to the imagination....  Also, I can't help but wonder how would things have materialized if the pigs were capitalists, not communists... any ideas?

Anthony Burgess - A Clockwork Orange

O my brothers, this book is real horrorshow. You must have slooshied about it, and in my opinion, it's a must read. Apologies for the nadsat, i.e. teenage Russian slang, but I think this is partly responsible for making this book just as good as it is (and I really can't rate it high enough). Initially, the book is challenging to read. The language is full of slang, that takes some time to get accustomed to. I was confused and felt that I really needed a dictionary (or, the book needed a glossary) to make some sense out of this book. However, within a couple of chapters, the slang started to make sense, and I just couldn't stop reading it, to see how it ends.

The book revolves around Alex, who is fifteen when the book starts. The opening scene seems innocent enough - Alex and his three droogs are hanging out in a milkbar (where the drinks are laced with drugs), one evening. Once they leave the milkbar though, we get introduced to the violent streak in these four teenagers. They decide to beat up a man leaving a library, just for the sake of it; get into a bloody fight with a rival gang; steal a car; enter some random home of a couple - beat the husband up, and gang rape the wife. And if that's not bad enough, they then tolchock the car into the river below. Real nasty stuff, and that point, you can't help but feeling that the four teenagers are despicable and deserve severe punishment.

Later on that evening, we get a glimpse of another side of Alex, the gang privodevat, as he goes home, and in total darkness listens to some classical music. That's when we discover his unequivocal love for Beethoven, and some other classical geniuses. Who knew their crime-minded malchicks appreciate music as much as they do violence?

When the gang decides to overthrow Alex as their leader, and get George, one of the droogs to replace him, Alex challenges George to a fight, which he wins, thereby retaining his title. That night, they decide to get up to some serious mischief, and rob a rich woman. However, things don't quite go according to plan, and Alex's violence costs the woman her life. The three droogs abandon Alex there, letting him take the fall for it while they run away... and Alex is charged with murder.

Good riddance, you say? A boy like that deserves no better? Well, read on...

Alex spends two years in jail, where he shares a small cell with some other inmates. When a new inmate is brought to their cell, and starts throwing his weight around, Alex, with the help of the other inmates, end up killing him (accidentally). As things normally pan out, the other prisoners deny responsibility, and Alex takes the fall. He volunteers for the Ludovico Technique, a procedure that is supposed to change the criminal mind, to that of a peace-loving citizen, in just two weeks. Sounds too good to be true, doesn't it?

This technique is essentially conditional programming/aversion therapy. Alex is forced to watch videos of gruesome violence, and is injected with some nauseating medicine simultaneously. The idea is, every time the subject (in this case, Alex) thinks of violence, he ends up feeling nauseous. However, Alex is never told what the treatment actually entails, and he assumes it's something nice and easy, that gets him out of prison in two weeks - the only reason why he volunteers.

When Alex goes back to life outside prison, he is not prepared for what greets him, and you can't help but feel sorry for the boy, as he tries to figure things out. Stripped off everything, even his greatest love, we see a struggle, and we're forced to ask some serious ethical questions: Are treatments like the Ludovico Technique justified? If someone shows a violent streak, is the government entitled to brainwash them? And what if the primary reason to get people undergo this treatment is that the prisons just don't have enough space to hold all the convicts? Do two wrongs make a right? Does the end justify means? Do the means justify the end?

This dystopian novel is incredibly well-written. I don't think the reader is supposed to relate to Alex. While Alex's description of Beethoven's music might just be one of the most beautiful things I've read in literature, his violent streak and some of the criminal acts he's conducted might be the most horrific. As I flipped the last page of the book, I couldn't help but admire Alex just a tad, and I also regretted that the book was over. Definitely one of the most thought-provoking books I've read in recent times.

Dare I say, a 10 on 10?

Aldous Huxley - Brave New World

A book set in the future, but has a title inspired by Shakepeare’s The Tempest, Brave New World details a dystopian society. However, if you’re expecting to see shades of Orwell’s 1984, you’re in for a surprise. On the other hand, there are some small comparisons that can be made with Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, another dystopian world, where literature is banned. Of course, this is where the similarity ends.

So, no CCTVs, no Big Brother, no society where the police state is taking over. What, then, makes Brave New World a dystopia? Well, ironically enough, it’s that everyone’s happy - happy with their job, their life, and the way things are. There’s a catch (there’s always a catch): everyone in this world is born and bred, in a lab, and effectively, they’re ‘programmed’ to think and act the way they do. Even their happiness is programmed, by hypnopaedia or sleep-teaching; where tapes are played repeatedly to sleeping children, thereby ensuring that the content of these tapes become part and parcel of their personality. The various castes - Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Deltas, Epsilons - are all happy and content being what they are, while simultaneously being happy that they do not belong to a different caste. (Alphas are the intellects, Epsilons the physical laborers)

The main motivation behind creating a world like this is to ensure peace and stability, constant happiness and painlessness. Literature or books from the ancient society are not allowed, for they might actually allow someone to think and perceive beauty of some sort. And beauty, attachment and affection is strongly discouraged. Conversely, recreational sex and drugs (soma) are encouraged. Everyone belongs to everyone else - that’s the fundamental premise. Of course it gets slightly disturbing when we read of children indulging in erotic play, and people being astounded that in the olden days, this was not general practice...

However, this is as much of a story about Bernard Marx, one of the few dissatisfied souls in this pseudo-utopian world, as it is about the world itself. Marx, probably suffering from a complex of sorts due to his physical traits resembling that of the inferior class, Epsilons, is vocal about some of his inhibitions with the society as it stands. The obvious solution, according to him, is to visit one of the ‘Savage Reservations’ - a place where the Old World still survives, and is left untouched and untainted by the advancements of the New World. He visits the Reservation with Lenina, a girl he’s enamored with (a girl who is happy and satisfied with the way things are, and lives up to what she’s imbibed during her childhood sleep-teaching). While she is thoroughly grossed out by this world, Marx feels enlightened, specially on talking to one of the inhabitants of this world, only to learn his mother once belonged to the New World, a world she misses greatly (read, she misses life without soma greatly). Marx and Lenina accompany the two (mother and son) back to their civilization, and the events that unfold as a result keeps the reader hooked on.

This is a world I found difficult to imagine, or for that matter, even live in. Truth be told, I’d rather have been a member of the archaic 1930s Reservation than a part of a world that uniform and surreal. Bizarrely enough, it seems as though, according to Huxley, to be in a world of utter ecstasy, we need to detach ourselves from everything that makes us happy in this world: family, parents, birth, and love. Or, of course, we can take the hedonist approach and fuel up on the real X.

There are hints, some subtle, some not so much, of who various characters of the book are inspired by. The obvious ones are Freud (the Ford, i.e. their equivalent of Lord), Karl Marx, Darwin, Napoleon and Henry Ford (i.e. the founder of Ford Motors), while there are a multitude of references to Shakespeare, Malthus and Wells. It would be really interesting to dig deeper and determine the inspirations for all the characters. Of course, that would make the whole book piece together as well.

If you’re into alternate realities, or the endless possibilities that there are, or, for that matter, how people let their imaginations run away with them, this is a definite must-read. Also, if you enjoyed the likes of 1984, Fahrenheit 451, and Men Like Gods, it’s almost guaranteed that you’ll be fascinated by Huxley’s contribution to the dystopian ideology.

Overall, 8.5 on 10.

Philip K. Dick - Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep

You have to love the name of the book. That was reason enough to pick it up! Androids, and electric sheep. What could possibly make more sense? Seriously, the name of the book intrigued me enough to pick it up, just to see how bizarre sci-fi could get. It’s not as bizarre as it sounds, if it helps...

The book is based in a sparsely populated earth, whose inhabitants have fled the planet post a war that has rendered most of the world (as we know it) a thing of the past. Animals are endangered, there isn’t much greenery, and most of the people who have stayed on have been forced to, due to the radiation leading them to become ‘chickenheads’. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep follows the quest of a bounty-hunter, a person who has to retire andys (androids) who are on the planet illegally, to kill six (of eight) andys who are superior to earlier models, and can almost pass off as humans. Eight of these new andys (Nexus-6 cylons) made their way to earth; two were retired by a senior bounty-hunter who was later injured while trying to retire the remaining six. Rick Deckard is given the task of retiring the remaining six, who are more advanced, tougher to retire and use their wit and trickery to escape being the victim of bounty-hunters.

In this post-apocalyptic world, where animals are endangered, all Rick really wants is a real animal. He is the owner of an electric sheep (bought when his ‘real’ sheep died of tetanus), but that is more of a status symbol, as opposed to the real thing. He yearns for the day he will be able to afford a real animal, and constantly thumbs through the Sidney Catalog, a catalog where the prices of various animals are listed, as well as their classification (E for Extinct). In fact, when he gets paid for retiring some of the Nexus-6 andys, he goes and pays a deposit for an animal - something to take care of.

While this has all the elements of a good sci-fic book, it also explores various philosophical questions like, what does it mean to be human? and, how do humans distinguish androids from themselves. The key is empathy (the Voigt-Kampff test, i.e. the test used by humans to determine if someone’s an andy or not is based on empathy - how they react to certain emotions, situations and questions. e.g. You are reading a magazine, and you come across the picture of a nude woman.). As the book progresses, Deckard faces challenging questions like, should he really be killing a woman andy who is an opera singer, and brings much joy to the world with her talents? And, what right does he have to rob someone of their life, even if they are not human?

This book, as the cover proudly proclaims, ended up becoming the basis for the movie, Bladerunner. I haven’t actually seen the movie, but the book was interesting and gripping. Based in the future, in a world where humans can program their moods, and people can actually buy electric animals that closely resemble real ones, where human beings are encouraged to leave the planet in order to ensure the survival of the human race, this book is an interesting and gripping read. It makes you wonder about people, about humanity and the characters of some of the people (supposedly human) that Deckard comes into close contact with, during this mission.

Overall, a 7 on 10.