Omoseye Bolaji takes a cursory look at Orwell's 1984

Re-reading George Orwell's classic, Nineteen Eighty Four has been a
poignant, sobering experience. Orwell wrote the book in the 40s
chillingly depicting a terrible world of ruthless dictatorship and
suppressed citizenry.

Over the years, thanks to this book, certain terms have become commonplace. They include Big Brother, Thought Police, Newspeak, The Ministry of Love, and (the dreaded) Room 101!  

 Of course in the modern world now the TV Reality show, Big
Brother is watched with keen interest by millions. This is one of the
legacies of Orwell's book; although not exactly what the author had in
mind.        

The concept of Big Brother is concisely and powerfully explained in the book, 1984:  

‘At the apex of the pyramid comes Big Brother. Big Brother is
infallible and all-powerful. Every success, every achievement, every
victory, every scientific development, all knowledge, all wisdom, all
happiness, all virtue, are held to issue directly from his leadership
and inspiration. Nobody has ever seen Big Brother. He is a face on the
hoardings, a voice on the telescreen. We may be reasonably sure that
he will never die, and there is already considerable uncertainty as to
when he was born. Big Brother is the guise in which the Party chooses
to exhibit itself to the world...’

It is a journey of rather warped discovery for Winston, the protagonist
of the novel; the work lucidly and imaginatively traces his
beleaguered life, his exhilarating affair with the lady, Julia, and
his fascination with O'Brien who turns out to be something of a
nightmare.

 In the book, the powers that be pull out all the stops with their
relentless propaganda to ensure that the people at large are always
hoodwinked and deceived. Winston, though wary enough is in no way
deceived; as this pellucid passage shows:      

‘He looked around the canteen. A low-celeinged, crowded room, its
walls grimy from the contact of innumerable bodies; battered metal
tables and chairs, placed so close together that you sat with elbows
touching; bent spoons, dented trays, coarse white mugs; all surfaces
greasy, grime in every crack; and a sourish, composite smell of bad
gin and bad coffee and metallic stew and dirty clothes...

‘…there had never been quite enough to eat, one had never had socks or
underclothes that were not full of holes, furniture had always been
battered and rickety, rooms underheated, tube trains crowded, houses
falling to pieces, bread dark-coloured, tea a rarity, coffee
filthy-tasting, cigarettes insufficient...one's heart sickened at the
discomfort and dirt and scarcity, the interminable winters, the
stickiness of one's socks, the lifts that never worked, the cold
water, the gritty soap, the cigarettes that came to pieces, the food
with its strange evil tastes?...’

This might remind us of what often happens here in Africa: with many national and provincial/State governments anxious to convince the denizens that life "has never been so good" for them, despite a preponderance of evidence to the
contrary. As life gets harsher, much more difficult, with even basic
facilities thin on the ground, the spin-doctors are always ready with
jejune statistics to "prove" how much better life is for the common
man and woman. Tosh.  

In the book, 1984, Winston is tortured in despicable fashion to ensure that he toes the line, and is finally "brainwashed" to regard the Party as the be-all and end-all.

There is an ambience of inevitability mixed with inconsolable melancholy as the book peters to an end, and we read: "It was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He (Winston) had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother."