Down with Big Brother.

I've always loved dystopian literature. I cannot count how many times I've read 1984 and Brave New World. Cumulatively, probably two dozen. If not more.

The nature of their societies is certainly fascinating. But from a more logistical standpoint, the means by which they reveal them is even more interesting.

Narrators are always outsiders in a society that is supposed to have no outsiders. In perfect worlds, there is no dissent. No resistance. In 1984, Newspeak was eventually going to wipe out the ability to disagree. To make thoughtcrime impossible. In Brave New World, the dissent comes from the perspective of an Alpha. Someone part of the indoctrination, who is cognizant of the falsehoods being purported.

Really though, the thing that separates the best from the B-grade movies are the way the story is told. The teasing out of mundane details that even the protagonists seem to take for granted. The Two-Minute Hate. Hypnopaedia. Telescreens. Soma. Oceania has always been at war with Eurasia. Ending is better than mending.



On a related note. It's a shame Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale isn't included in the discussion of the great dystopian novels. Maybe it's just too new. But really, it deserves to be there.