Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)

The Crows of Pearblossom, illustrated by Sophie Blackall

Mrs. Crow's eggs always seem to disappear from her nest when she is out doing the afternoon shopping, and neither she nor Mr. Crow know why. The mystery is solved when she unexpectedly gets home early one day and discovers that the rattlesnake living at the base of the Crows' tree has been swallowing her potential offspring. Mrs. Crow informs Mr. Crow as soon as he gets home from work (at a drugstore), and he sets off (after a few snide show more remarks to his wife) to consult his friend Old Man Owl on how to proceed. The two avian friends hatch a plot involving some fake clay eggs, and one dead snake.

Originally written in 1944 as a Christmas gift for his niece Olivia - it was first published in 1967, with artwork by Barbara Cooney, and then reprinted in this new 2011 edition with illustrations by Sophie Blackall - The Crows of Pearblossom is the only children's story that British novelist Aldous Huxley ever wrote. All in all, I think that's probably for the best. The story is a fairly standard exploration of the theme of cleverness triumphing over brute strength - the birds manage to outwit and kill the snake, instead of becoming his prey - but the interactions between Mr. and Mrs. Crow make it feel unpleasantly out-of-step with current values. Gender roles have moved on a bit from the 1940s, of course, but it isn't so much that - I read plenty of vintage books for both girls and boys that I find charming, despite the more traditional views on the differences between the sexes that they often contain - but the outright nastiness displayed by Mr. Crow toward his wife, that would make me hesitate to recommend it to today's young children. Asking a woman if she's upset because she's over-eaten seems cruel - the implication, I suppose, is that women are prone to hysteria, and are more governed by their bodies than men - while telling her multiple times to shut up is both disrespectful and rude. In short: whatever charm this story has - and its charm is greatly enhanced by Caldecott Medalist Sophier Blackall's gorgeous watercolor artwork - is more than balanced by its unpleasantness. I'm honestly not sure why it was reprinted... show less

This might have been the scariest book I have ever read.

Not the normal type of scary, but the terrifying holy-shit-this-could-someday-be-real horror that fills you with a sense of fear because the future may not be so far from this. Sure, it's a totally pessimistic dystopian fucked up future, but still...

One of the scariest things about it was the Soma. Dear god, the way the entire public was completely drugged to where they could be manipulated like puppets on a string scared me senseless. show more And how the lower-ranked people are given purposeful birth defects... I would willingly take the apocalyptic zombie virus a la Walking Dead before I would succumb to a future like that. But even to look deeper, at the social issues that were starting to rear their heads when this was written, is to be afraid. They're described in such a realistic way that it's not hard to grasp that we may be coming closer to a similar type of reality*.

What really affected me is that no one knows it's a dystopia. Everybody oppressed person in this society has no idea they're being oppressed. To them, life is just as it should be, and the toxic cocktail of oppression, brainwashing, revised societal norms, and psychochemical drugs makes sure they continue to believe it.

There are so many powerful themes Brave New World that I can't even begin to analyse them all. It's an incredibly powerful book that everybody should read, even if just to give me some peace of mind that the world can't ever come to such a fate as was described in this book. Just remember...

...Half a gramme is worth a damn!

*I understand this is extreme and no, I do not think we will all end up taking Soma and being disgusted by the idea of a family. However, in Brave New World, the combination of propaganda and science grooms a society that doesn't seem so terribly alien.Al show less

This was a thought-provoking book. I had always heard before I read it that it was about a dystopia of hedonism: a world where everyone is miserable because they have everything they want. I think this is an intended theme, but it goes so much deeper than that. Brave New World is a dystopia of commercialism and conformity.

Everything is for sale and intended to make someone money. Nothing can be enjoyed for its own sake. At one point a hypnotist describes training everyone to hate nature, but show more to love country sports, so they will pay money to travel into the country and pay money to do stuff there instead of enjoying natural beauty. The horror isn't just upper class ennui, it's having to force every second of your life into somebody's hustle instead of just enjoying yourself.

The same can be said for the abolition of family: you can't just find happiness in your loved ones, you need to pay to take someone on a date if you want companionship. In a way, your life doesn't belong to you: every second of joy must be bought.

Furthermore, the "hypnoconditioning" that is supposed to make everyone content with their lot in life just doesn't work as advertised. One of the main characters, Bernard, is dissatisfied with the approved recreations of his class: something that should be impossible if the hypnoconditioning is really infallible. A elevator operator shows a deep desire to escape his elevator and enjoy the sunlight, and several female characters show a desire for monogamy (which is forbidden). Even a prominent government official expresses nostalgia and grief over the disapearence of his date 20 years ago. If Brave New World is really a society where everyone is unthinkingly content that would be impossible. This is a world which expects rigid conformity, and exiles anyone who doesn't pretend to fit in.

Finally, Brave New World is a eugunicist's dream. I would like to point out one thing: the classes aren't randomly assigned. They break down along racial lines. Epsilons are usually described as "Senegalese" or "negro" , or other terms to show they are black people; and alphas and betas are universally Caucasian. The "savages" are actually American Indians (Zuni). So this isn't just a society where nobody has to think. Your race and circumstances of birth determine your destiny: factory worker or intellectual. And while the upper-class insists that the lower classes don't mind, I think there is textual evidence that this isn't true (the elevator operator wanting to get out of the elevator onto the roof, the mechanics treating Bernard with contempt, Bernard's whole arc, etc.). We spend the entire book from the perspective of upper class white people, and they are miserable with their lives. Why do we take their word for it that hypnoconditioning works any better on the lower classes?

All this to say that Brave New World is a better book than a lot of its fans give it credit for being, and possibly a better book than Huxley knew (because Huxley seems entirely focused on the Noble Savages/books good TV bad angle). show less

That was the chief difference between literature and life. In books, the proportion of exceptional to commonplace people is high; in reality, very low.

Practically bed ridden, incapacitated and unable to sleep I completed this chewy hulk of a novel in 24 hours. Overflowing with ideas, Eyeless asks about Action: what is one to do? Anthony, one of the novels chief characters remains preoccupied with freedom throughout his life. The narrative rotates between 5 or so timelines and flips back to show more each periodically, like Moloch gleefully dealing Texas Hold'em. Others are debauched or likewise stalwarts in various ideologies. Huxley asserts through the fog of politics and history that a point might be, just keep it simple. Take it easy on your colon. Don't try to fuck people over. Make amends. There are no overt references to gardens, but I accept that such is implied. This was published in 1936 and with Spain and the Dark Times on the horizon, this is penned in a certain panic. I wondered whether our own anxiety will crystalize in such a masterful experiment. show less