Showing posts with label dramatic irony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dramatic irony. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Imaginaaaaation

"'Five hundred repetitions once a week from thirteen to seventeen,' said Bernard wearily, as though to himself.

"'What did you say?'

"'I said that progress was lovely.'" - p. 100

That was irony, right? Let me consult the list to figure out what kind.

Oops. That's not the list; that is Facebook. Let me try again.

I think it's dramatic. Bernard and the audience both understand that Bernard is expressing exasperation with his society, but Lenina is in her somacoma thing, so she... goes with it. I suppose the effect of that on the work is that we understand that the system is indeed flawed. It's generally dangerous when the masses go about their lives without ever questioning the state of things. In a broader sense, I guess that's why Sci-Fi is valuable. It proves to us that it's important not to be apathetic about things, even though that's generally the easier route. It makes us understand the value of paying attention and caring and saves us the trouble of learning the lesson the hard way. It's the same reason we have to learn about history, except it's more exciting because we get to make stuff up. <--preposition


Furthermore, I read this chapter right before I went to bed last night, and my last note in my reading journal reads, "106 - Iceland? uncivilized world?" Bernard is for real getting sent to Iceland because he upset the D.H.C. guy? And I forget what was going on with the uncivilized world business. It seemed like there was some isolated region in which things had remained the same as they were before the time of Ford, but I don't remember why it was being mentioned, so I'm hoping for clarification in chapter seven.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Little did he know....

"We returned to our college on a Sunday afternoon: the peasants were dancing, and everyone we met appeared gay and happy. My own spirits were high, and I bounded along with feelings of unbridled joy and hilarity." - p. 46

And then... there is a chapter break.

That isn't suspense, precisely. That's more of a "little did he know" situation.


That's not the precise clip I wanted; there's one where Harold Crick's literary professor/consultant flips out on him because he mentions that his narrator voice said, "Little did he know...."

Actually, he says this: "Little did he know. That means there's something he doesn't know, which means there's something you don't know, did you know that? "

What Victor doesn't know at this point is that his happy-skippy times are about to be disrupted. The reader can tell, though, from the placement of the chapter break. It's almost like dramatic irony, except that the audience doesn't actually know something bad is coming. Victor could continue to lead a perfectly content life from that point onward. That would make for some seriously dull reading, though.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Does it matter?

"He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother." - p. 370

I presume this is dramatic irony. It's sort of the kicker, though. Here's why:

The audience senses that Winston's love of Big Brother is not, in fact, a "victory." They have grown to know Winston's character and to identify with his hatred of Big Brother. No one wants him to fall into that terrible conformity. Everybody loves a rebel.

But we just don't know for certain. It's a liiiittle bit ambiguous. If you chose to take as such, you could argue that perhaps Winston loves Big Brother because Big Brother is worthy of Winston's love. More likely, it's a social commentary on the importance of questioning and whatnot.


It's kinda like Inception. Nobody's really sure what's real. Does Winston--the Winston we know to be the true Winston--really love Big Brother? Did Oceania really conquer the whole of Africa? Does the top ever stop turning? Does it even matter?

(I can't embed the video, but it's right here.)