When I first read Nineteen Eighty-Four two years ago, I gave it just two stars. This time, it hit much harder — and I ended up at a solid four. I think I was more focused this time around, more engaged with Orwell’s world and its place in modern literature. Maybe I just wasn’t ready for it before, but rereading it after Brave New World gave me a new appreciation for its lasting impact.
The novel is structured in three parts: the introduction to Oceania and Winston Smith’s quiet rebellion; his relationship with Julia and their attempt to join the resistance; and finally, his capture, torture, and reconditioning. Winston works in the Ministry of Truth, rewriting history so the Party is always right. Something in him knows this is wrong, even if he can’t quite express it. His relationship with Julia, who rebels more out of instinct than ideology, briefly makes him feel human again — but it’s a fragile hope in a world designed to crush it.
The writing is accessible, even thrilling at times. It’s bleak, yes, but it’s also a fast-paced and psychologically sharp. Winston’s transformation from quiet dissenter to broken believer is one of the most haunting character arcs in literature. The ending, of course, is devastating: nothing changes, and that’s the point. Orwell wanted readers to feel the despair of a world where truth itself has been conquered.
I could take or leave Newspeak as a concept. The appendix, which I actually think should be read first, is interesting but perhaps overdone — it contains more detail on Newspeak than the novel itself. Still, the idea is fascinating: a language designed to limit thought. While we tend to make our own language ever more complex, Newspeak is the opposite extreme, a weaponized simplicity.
Reading this in the context of post-World War II fears makes Orwell’s insight even more chilling. His warnings about propaganda and doublespeak feel painfully relevant today. We still see leaders twist language, deny facts, and rewrite history to suit their narrative (*cough* Trump *cough*). The Party’s slogan — “Who controls the past controls the future” — has never felt more accurate. And it isn’t confined to one side — modern culture often punishes dissent in subtler ways, whether through “canceling,” social pressure, or the expectation to conform to the loudest voices in the room.
I didn’t pick up 1984 this time because it’s timely; it’s always timely. Orwell’s vision is as much about human nature as it is about politics. It’s a bleak story, yes, but also a necessary one — a reminder of how fragile truth and freedom can be.
