An Ambiguous Tribute to Orwell??

From the New Yorker, A Critic at Large: "Honest, Decent, Wrong: The Invention of George Orwell" by Louis Menand.

I was surprised at this article, posted by a colleague on Facebook. Apparently, it is necessary to debunk Orwell. The article meanders, mostly stressing the "constructedness" of Orwell's nonfiction and his use of a persona, and moving to the inaccuracy of his fiction. The assumption is that the person who would see Orwell's vision in 1984 as relevant in some way has been deluded into thinking that it is not fiction but prophecy. In doing so, the writer is speaking first of all to an audience of intellectual equals and like-minds, who look down on all of the uninitiated who get dangerous ideas from reading without guidance. At the same time, a group of outsiders is constructed, who are misinformed about the author and his works, and the connection between life and fiction in general. Though not the primary audience of the article, these individuals can benefit from the wisdom imparted, while the intended audience is invited to dismiss Orwell intellectually, or to take comfort in the fact that those who use him incorrectly are ignorant of Orwell's true character and purpose in writing. What risk does he pose? What is the motivation behind this article? What occasioned the discussion of his life and works? Any ideas I might have about it derive from the following passages:

Some people in 1949 received "1984" as an attack on the Labour Party (in the book, the regime of Big Brother is said to have derived from the principles of "Ingsoc"; that is, English Socialism), and Orwell was compelled to issue, through his publisher, a statement clarifying his intentions. He was a supporter of the Labour Party, he said. "I do not believe that the kind of society I describe necessarily will arrive," he continued, "but I believe (allowing of course for the fact that the book is satire) that something resembling it could arrive. I believe also that totalitarian ideas have taken root in the minds of intellectuals everywhere, and I have tried to draw these ideas out to their logical consequences."

The attitude behind this last sentence seems to me the regrettable part of Orwell's legacy. If ideas were to stand or fall on the basis of their logically possible consequences, we would have no ideas, because the ultimate conceivable consequence of every idea is an absurdity—is, in some way, "against life." We don't live just by ideas. Ideas are part of the mixture of customs and practices, intuitions and instincts that make human life a conscious activity susceptible to improvement or debasement. A radical idea may be healthy as a provocation; a temperate idea may be stultifying. It depends on the circumstances. One of the most tiresome arguments against ideas is that their "tendency" is to some dire condition—to totalitarianism, or to moral relativism, or to a war of all against all. Orwell did not invent this kind of argument, but he provided, in "1984," a vocabulary for its deployment.

"Big Brother" and "doublethink" and "thought police" are frequently cited as contributions to the language. They are, but they belong to the same category as "liar" and "pervert" and "madman." They are conversation-stoppers. [And "fascist." Don't forget "fascist." There are a lot of labels given to opponents that stop the conversation.] When a court allows videotape from a hidden camera to be used in a trial, people shout "Big Brother." When a politician refers to his proposal to permit logging on national land as "environmentally friendly," he is charged with "doublethink." When a critic finds sexism in a poem, she is accused of being a member of the "thought police." The terms can be used to discredit virtually any position, which is one of the reasons that Orwell became everyone's favorite political thinker. [True, but Orwell's lifetime saw, by the admission of the article, saw the actualization of extreme versions of ideas. One of the article's points is that Orwell considered Hitler attractive; that he had the same attraction to Hitler's brand of socialists as the "few" fascist sympathizers in England and France. And yet, he witnessed the extremist tendency of the ideas' implementation. Can we be secure in the assumption that ideas will NOT tend toward extremes?] People learned to make any deviation from their own platform seem the first step on the slippery slope to "1984."

There are Big Brothers and thought police in the world, just as there are liars and madmen. "1984" may have been intended to expose the true character of Soviet Communism, but, because it describes a world in which there are no moral distinctions among the three fictional regimes that dominate the globe, it ended up encouraging people to see totalitarian "tendencies" everywhere. There was visible totalitarianism, in Russia and in Eastern Europe; but there was also the invisible totalitarianism of the so-called "free world." [I wonder what is in the author's head here. Hasn't discussion of U.S. "imperialism" become common place? How is that different from the "invisible totalitarianism of the so-called "free world"? The author's intentions are well-concealed, here. The U.S. is mentioned in the article as a variable that was outside of Orwell's consideration. So is the "free world" evoked ironically here because Orwell viewed it skeptically? Or is the "free world" being evoked skeptically by the author, who does not believe in a distinction between the "free world" and "totalitarianism"? I tend toward the former interpretation: that the author is referring to Orwell's supposed fallacy. But it seems to me that this is contrary to how we see the U.S. represented--oh wait! It seems contrary to how the U.S. was described under Bush. But this is a Brave New World! And we should not see it in Orwellian terms--so this author seems to say. Or Huxleyan terms either.] When people talk about Big Brother, they generally mean a system of covert surveillance and manipulation, oppression in democratic disguise (unlike the system in Orwell's book, which is so overt that it is advertised). "1984" taught people to imagine government as a conspiracy against liberty.

And the conclusion:

Orwell's prose was so effective that it seduced many readers into imagining, mistakenly, that he was saying what they wanted him to say, and what they themselves thought. Orwell was not clairvoyant; he was not infallible; he was not even consistent. [How many theorists are?] He changed his mind about things, as most writers do. [BINGO!] He dramatized out of a desire to make the world more the way he wished it to be, as most writers do. He also said what he thought without hedging or trimming, as few writers do all the time. It is strange how selectively he was heard. [Don't we typically take the works that are most useful or relevant and apply those works? It is strange how selectively Kristeva was heard, and she wasn't writing imaginative prose. . .] It is no tribute to him to turn his books into anthems to a status quo he hated. [Nor is it a tribute to him to ignore that which he critiqued--even if he hated everything!!] Orwell is admired for being a paragon when he was, self-consciously, a naysayer and a misfit. If he is going to be welcomed into the pantheon of right-thinking liberals, he should at least be allowed to bring along his goat. [Really, he was an intellectual freak. Don't use his works to refute US.]

All Kinds of Frustrating. . .

What I am not referring to here is the fact that I managed to ride around in the car for an hour in the hopes that the girls would fall asleep, gave up & went home with only Chiclette asleep to find that Doodle (oh joy!) fell asleep after all, only to have Doodle wake up AFTER I had carried her in the house (not in time to walk in by herself), cry that she wasn't sleepy, wake up Chiclette, who never went back to sleep. . . yadda yadda yadda.

No, I am referring to the thoughts that are going through my head in reference to my one--count 'em, y'all, ONE--job prospect. Now I know I could be reminded that it was only with the deepest sense of futility that I contemplated or embarked upon the job search many months ago. Yes, that is true. It may perhaps be part of the problem. Because part of me sings, "Oh glee! Someone wants me!!" while another part wonders if the job in the hand really is worth two in the bush and wonders if I had better try to flush out those other two. . . All the time, of course, the third voice is telling me that the one job is by no means in the hand after only a phone interview. *sigh*

Friday I had a phone interview. It is a regional branch of a large state school--so far so good. The department seems attractive. Rather small--in the lower 20s for full-time faculty, which is the largest at that university. School is having budget issues--go figure; hasn't affected this search in any tangible way that I can tell yet. The committee chair has maintained an enthusiastic attitude in dealing with me. All good. The school extremely rural--not so good. They do have a Wal-Mart, which I am counting as good, though the converse could be argued. There is only one of each grade-level public school. The only private school is very, very evangelical. The child care options seem very limited. I would probably feel best in the Baptist church child care environment, which raises its own questions. There are 200 Catholics in the COUNTY--but there is a Catholic church in town--VERY good. The schools do not seem to offer orchestra, just band. Not so good. The cost of living is significantly lower than here, and we are already pretty low. Good. Can you tell I'm obsessing a little? I have come down off of the obsession a little since the weekend, but I'm still weighing things constantly as I wait the two weeks (maybe a little over a week now) until I learn whether they want to see more of me or not. At which point, I would be able to see the place--which by all counts is beautiful, though very rural.

There are many considerations, not the least of which is whether, with their budget issues, they would be able to offer spousal placement. Because I will not see my husband placed lower than he deserves so that I can take some more or less permanent position. That, for me, is a non-negotiable. I will not sacrifice my children's care or education. And yet. . .

Surely there are other professors at the university who have families--who have raised families--in the surrounding area. Surely!! And there are worse things than a very rural area--a very urban, unsafe area, for example.

My problem is that I am continually questioning my frame of mind. When the position seemed unattractive to me, I wondered if I was being hasty. If it seems at present the best thing since sliced bread and my only chance for lasting happiness (hyperbole), I also wonder if I'm being hasty.

It seems, for one thing, foolish not to take a well-paying position (based on their own salary data--the web is wonderful) in a place with a low cost-of-living.

I would be teaching what I want to teach--plain & simple. Never thought that would happen, actually. It gives me some hope. Class size is smaller than I'm used to and there are possibilities for real schedule flexibility--online and one-day/week classes. Even travel opportunities (not with young children, but they don't know that). All of which balances the high teaching load--theoretically. Except that when I teach TWO classes I can't find time to tie my shoelaces--there is THAT.

But--I think to myself--are my reasons more material? Why yes, yes they are. (It's been apparent from the start, no?) In a couple of days I start counting a little further into my thirties. And here I am, still cramming myself and my family into undersized rentals. I so desperately want to move, but why move for a year or however long it takes to find a permanent spot when I might have the opportunity to move and find a more permanent spot this very year?

I'm dreaming of a house with non-neutral, high quality carpeting. I want windows--insulated glass windows--that let in nature so that nature can't get me. I want a fireplace, and a large living room. I want so many bedrooms that children can play and leave their toys out and I never have to know. I want CLOSETS--one for each member of the household, not 2 split between 5 people. And a garage (attached) that doesn't double as a roach motel. A kitchen that is functional. Appliances that are not apartment grade and actually dry the clothes within 1-2 cycles. I can picture it, this cookie-cutter house in a shiny new sub-division. (Not what I've typically thought of as my preferred aesthetic, by the way.) It has my name on it. There are woods and hills in the distance. And a little dinky town with a university and one Wal-Mart. *sigh*

There are drawbacks to this vision. Mainly, that I might start feeling the urge to have matching furniture or bath towels. But I'm prepared to take that risk. But what else might I have to risk?

And let's think clearly about this. You know that guy who sings on the "Free Credit Report" commercials? (I have been known to sing the one about working in a tourist-y seafood restaurant.) Yeah. Well, let's just say I'm in no position to buy a house. Maybe in 4-5 years, with a lot of saving--unless the Department of Education claims every extra cent, as is their right. And rentals in that area, while cheap, don't exactly sing to me. So the vision that currently sustains me turns out to be empty, and I go around and around again--will they have organic yogurt? Whole wheat pasta? Montessori education. . . The list goes on.

Finding "Family" on Facebook

So as life becomes busier, I find myself with less time to spend blogging, or at any rate, less willing to indulge in blog-able thoughts. From time to time, I have a thought or idea and I think, "Hmmm. . . I could blog that. . ." but I find it difficult, I'm sorry to say, to commit to organizing my thoughts and expressing them in some way that makes them digestible to others. The same happens with meals, actually, which is when I pull out something boxed or frozen. So I've been on Facebook lately. Facebook allows me to quip something short and imperfect--something that hasn't been thought out, or is not expressed clearly. It's a type of self-indulgence for the writer, really. We invite others to finish our thoughts, or expand them into dialogues or conversations. Sometimes real information is conveyed. Other times, it is just play. We set "bait" and wait for others to bite. It doesn't always work--especially for me, I might add. But sometimes it's just nice to see that moment of the day, that joy, frustration, anxiety, boredom--articulated, made external, published. And it requires very little effort to do so--far less than a blog.

On Facebook, I have two groups of friends--those whom I know from high school and have only recently rediscovered (my reason for going on Facebook, actually) and friends that I know from grad school. It is very interesting to see some of the daily observations of people I haven't seen for 10+ years. (Okay, maybe closer to 15+ years, but who's counting?) Many of these seem cryptic to me--references to the lives that they have developed over the past decade and some. These snapshots of others' worlds--sometimes literal snapshots!--have a kind of homey appeal. I don't feel like a voyeur, although I barely know these people any more, and some I never really did know very well. Of course, like blogs, these are imperfect snapshots--they are chosen words and images that present a picture carefully selected by the author, whether the author does this consciously or not.

What strikes me most is the emphasis on family. Most--if not all--of the people I know on Facebook have jobs, careers, businesses, whatever one chooses to call them. . . They have external sources of income that require more or less time away from home and/or dedication of time, attention, and effort to work. I believe one of these people has a home business, but her "work" space--whether real or virtual--is separate from her family space. Sometimes the work/job/career and the family life are mentioned together, usually a comparison of the two, or an attempt to reconcile the two: So-and-so is frustrated by the kids who keep interrupting. . . So-and-so is home from work AGAIN with a sick child and bored because she can't go to work. . . (There's been a lot of childhood illness going around Facebook.) So-and-so is able to see her child on 22 webcams at the Big Brother nursery. . . There is quire a bit of complaining about children, in more or less harsh terms as determined by Christmas-break cabin-fever. Sometimes, I find it shocking that the children are being spoken of so publicly in such harsh terms, though I recognize the reality of the frustration. It's the choice to publish such sentiments openly that shocks me. In these snapshots of people I used to know and their families whom I probably will never know, there is nevertheless an underlying warmth directed toward the smaller members of the species. They love their families. They live for their families. They work for their families. They find fulfillment in their families.

I am not in the position to contrast anyone's actual family-centeredness. However, the way this is communicated--seemingly so effortlessly--is something I have missed for many, many years. For the first time--oh, perhaps ever--I actually wish I had stayed closer to these people so that I could have known people my own age who were starting and growing families--starting and growing families for the sake of doing so, and seeing that in itself as a--perhaps as THE means to personal fulfillment, whatever importance work/job/career might have. I actually wish I had remained friends with other mommies because they are mommies, not because we have that--and some other philosophical, intellectual, or experiential commonalities. But that's not really the whole story. I want the whole picture. I wish that I had stayed in touch so that our children could attend one another's birthday parties or exchange presents at Christmas. So that we could have Christmas parties and Easter egg hunts. Not so that we could share mommy-experiences while the kids were occupied for a while.

It's funny how I will always think of these women as "girls." One of these "girls" has two girls--one about the age of my son, who turns 12 very soon. She is a year or two older than me--as everyone was back then--and she was married a bit before me. And she was into the mommy thing waaaay more than me back then--I saw her once when she was pregnant and she was practically knitting booties everywhere she went--like Darling in Lady and the Tramp. But the fact remained that she was living a family life all of these years, and, well, that does something.

What I'm trying to articulate is a way of looking at life that is somehow distinct from how I've looked at life until now, but which represents in some ways how I've lived life (without thinking of it in these terms) for the past 12 years. Perhaps it's more of a way of looking at marriage. What is a marriage, really? Is it a partnership? Is it an economic or social contract? Is it an intimate friendship? I look at these former friends and acquaintances, and it doesn't appear that marriage functioned exclusively--or primarily--in any of these ways for them. Nor was marriage simply something that they checked off the list of "things to do" before a certain age; nor was it a means to status, or a life goal in itself. No, in these people I recognize ambitions beyond marriage and family. But neither do I see marriage as an end in itself.

In fact, I do not see marriage as an end in itself. Marriage, in the culture in which I grew up, was a means to a family. Even in the case of a childless marriage, there could be the sense of a family rather than the eternal honeymoon of couple-ness. It is, perhaps, a state of mind. The collective is larger than the sum of the parts. We are not two, or three, or five people in the same house, although we are literally two, or three, or five people in the same house(hold). We are a family, which is larger. It has larger problems, perhaps, and frustrations, but also more capacity for love and survival. So these friends of mine did more than get married, have children, and careers. They allowed their lives to be shaped into families. And their families grew from the natural progression of their lives.