Wednesday, February 27, 2008
I began Brave New World two days ago, read a couple of chapters at three this morning before I worked out, and stayed in the foreign languages building through the afternoon to finish. Ich hab' es sehr gern, aber die letzten Kapiteln haben mich enttäuscht. Huxley himself, from the introduction to the 1946 edition I own, expressed dissatisfaction with the conclusion he wrote as well, and proposed a third option of a search for sanity between the choices originally offered the Savage. I might have preferred the (or "a") different ending, for I read with the expectation that the Savage would progress beyond the stage of self-punishment, loathing, and denial. I am pleased that he mutilated Lenina; a modern story would somehow have allowed him to "have" her, which would of course refute the rest of the novel.
Ich habe Civilum Bellum [K]aesars auf Lateinisch begonnen. Ich liebe Kaesar, weil er einen dousche ist. Er liebt auch sich selbst. Hee.
Labels: Aldous Huxley, Bellum Civilum, Brave New World, denial, dousche, Julius Caesar, Latin, loathing, reading, sanity, self-punishment, working out
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:48 PM]