1984: A Beautiful Conclusion

I thoroughly enjoyed the ending of 1984, albeit it was not what I initially expected. I wrongly expected of Orwell a more generic finish to the overdone storyline. Angry dissenter causes anarchist eruption in face of evil government and overthrows the evil against all odds. Orwell’s conclusion was not at all this. In fact, following a course of logic concurrent with the novel, the end makes more sense. Angry dissenter dreams about inflicting change, yet is conquered brutally by the omnipotent, tyrannical government. As history will often tell us, oppression so powerful as Ingsoc will extinguish opposition. Thus, Winston and Julia are snubbed even before they have a chance to ignite—even before they finish reading Goldstein’s book.

The violent, politically charged ending of the novel apologizes for the monotonous, monochrome storyline up to this point. Throughout the book, Winston has appealed as Hamlet’s foil, acting rashly on decisions which propel him forwards towards wisdom, insight, and rebellion.  However, this never reaches its climax. Instead, we are left with a character more Hamletine in appearance and in impact, a grand disappointment, when Winston is hauled away. In effect, the development of Winston’s promising character is abruptly halted by his incarceration, leaving me with a sort of lingering disappointment. At least we are given a dramatic twist to charge the otherwise lacking plot and set. We are taken from a grey city clouded by Winston’s uncertainties and unelaborated trysts, and we are plunged into a place “of no darkness” where truths are revealed. Through the finale is graphic and grim, the reality of Orwell’s dystopia is revealed in its full, ugly light, and in parallel, we are given a glimpse into the dystopian societies of today.

I am pleased that Winston, at the end of the book, loves Big Brother. Not because of the stunning political commentary framed by Orwell (though indeed it is impressive) but because of the extermination of tension. Throughout the novel there is an undying, repressive tension in Winston’s thoughts, actions, expectations, and from the Party to the proles. Once Winston surrenders, the tension dies and we can breathe a sort of sigh of relief. Yet I wonder, what does this opinion voice about by own tendencies or dispositions? Does it hint that I am a reluctant power, and would rather succumb to the delicious simplicity of surrender?