Even now, six decades after it was written and more than a quarter century after its titular year has come and gone, 1984 continues to haunt us with its aura of pernicious possibility. Orwell’s warning of a spiritless, totalitarian time to come has lost none of its relevance. It would be hard to name another twentieth-century novel whose coinages have so successfully infiltrated our language and, therefore, our grasp of the reality we inhabit. What is finally most chilling about 1984 is not its prescience about the dangers of totalitarianism, but rather its insight into the fragile qualities of mind, heart, and culture that we treasure as the surest manifestations of human nature. Tellingly, when Orwell finished the work in manuscript, he hesitated between the title he finally gave it and "The Last Man in Europe."
Avoided this in high school because I thought it was for sci fi geeks like my friend who quoted it. A year later I discovered "Animal Farm" and some essays and have been an Orwell devotee since.
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