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| Brandon Keim on Thu, 13 Jun 2002 15:36:01 +0200 (CEST) |
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| <nettime> The Common Toad During Wartime |
Brandon Keim
brandonkeim {AT} mindspring.com
www.djinnetic.org/blog
THE COMMON TOAD DURING WARTIME
As Americans contemplate a future of government surveillance in every
area of their personal and public lives -- surveillance as a matter
of routine policy, without any prior suspicion, without permission or
oversight, in concert with behavioral profiles compiled on every
citizen from once-private information -- popular references to George
Orwell have become ever more frequent.
Orwell, perhaps more than any other writer, was aware the trend
towards totalitarianism in contemporary thought and practice; he
feared our abasement before the Gods of security, and distrusted the
collective hypnosis of mass entertainment. His novel Nineteen
Eighty-Four, upon which the term "Orwellian" is based, is a chilling
tale of personal degradation in a society where the surveillance
state is all-powerful, possessing absolute control over the
production of truth. Reading Nineteen Eighty-Four right now is
profoundly painful, though it should be read all the more for that --
along with, perhaps, John Hersey's Hiroshima.
While Nineteen Eighty-Four is obviously relevant to America's present
condition, so is another work, Homage to Catalonia. The product of
Orwell's experiences as an expatriate soldier during the Spanish
Civil War, Homage is comprised of two parts. The first describes
everyday life at the front. The second delves into the bitter
infighting between revolutionary and counterrevolutionary elements of
the Republican anti-Fascist opposition. As a study of separation
between actual and official truth in a heavily covered conflict, it
is probably the finest work of political media analysis produced
during the twentieth century.
It was in Homage that Orwell's defining characteristics fully
emerged: a remarkable ability to steer objectively between waves of
competing propaganda, an abhorrence of orthodoxy, and a belief that
establishing a capital-t Truth is less important than its pursuit.
His example of responsibility and independence is one that all of us,
especially certain members of the journalistic community who
surrendered their critical faculties at precisely the moment they
were most needed, would do well to follow.
However, Nineteen Eighty-Four was published just before Orwell's
death, and Homage sold a feeble nine hundred copies during his life.
While alive, Orwell was known primarily for his literary, social, and
political criticism -- and understandably so. Even a few minutes
spent reading his essays leaves one feeling somehow cleansed, as
after a cool shower. Still, another picture of Orwell emerges, bit
by bit, from the pages of these lesser-known efforts. Though V.S.
Pritchett called him "the wintry conscience of his generation,"
Orwell was a man of simple, everyday pleasures; his greatest delight
was reserved not for affairs of state, but of people, and for the
wonders of the natural world. His political writings were products
of social necessity, the duty of an intellectual who would have
rather spent his time in friendly conversation, or planting sixpenny
roses.
Nowhere is this more evident than in "Some Thoughts on the Common
Toad," which can be found in the fourth volume of The Collected
Essays, Journalism, and Letters of George Orwell, a marvelous series
republished two years ago and still widely available. It begins with
an eloquent, unusually tender description of the common toad's
springtime awakening from winter slumber, and the exquisiteness of
Orwell's phrases are all the more striking for the seeming mundanity
of their topic.
"At this period, after his long fast, the toad has a very spiritual
look, like a strict Anglo-Catholic towards the end of Lent," Orwell
writes. "His movements are languid but purposeful, his body is
shrunken, and by contrast his eyes look abnormally large. This
allows one to notice, what one might not at another time, that a toad
has about the most beautiful eye of any living creature. It is like
gold, or more exactly it is like the golden-coloured semi-precious
stone which one sometimes sees in signet-rings, and which I think is
sometimes called Chrysoberyl."
It is this side of Orwell that has been overshadowed by the immediacy
of Nineteen Eighty-Four, yet in the end may be just as valuable as
his analysis of modern totalitarianism. It is very easy right now,
especially for those who do not share our leaders' faith in the
efficacy and rightness of their vision, to be consumed by political
and social concerns. This is understandable; ours is a profoundly
unstable time, and beneath every moment lurks the awareness of a
possible nuclear holocaust, of terrorist threat, of a
catastrophically changing climate, of vast global inequalities, of
vanishing freedoms and the rise of a militant Empire. Yet it is
precisely because of the enormity of all this that we must find ways
to ignore it, however briefly -- to lose ourselves in the laughter of
friends, the smell of fresh grass, the first fire hydrant block party
of summer, the grace of drifting dandelion seeds lit by a setting
sun.
To concentrate completely on the political both corrodes the soul and
represents a victory for those who, whether their rhetoric is that of
global free markets or fundamental Islamic law, who would deny the
existence of any world beyond the one they make. As "Some Thoughts
on the Common Toad" concludes:
"The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are
prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the
loudspeakers, but the earth is still going round the sun, and neither
the dictators nor the bureaucrats, deeply as they disapprove of the
process, are able to prevent it."
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