I have to admit that throughout the first half of animal farm, my thoughts skewed towards doubting the novel’s place in literature. I had no doubt that the writing was well done and the plot lacked holes, but it missed the punch I usually find throughout classics.
But as I neared the last 20 pages I realized that the entire plot was one massive buildup to a magnificent political commentary that even an admittedly dense person when it comes politics (me) could understand.
Once again, it would be wrong of me to lay out the entire plot, that way you would never read it. This book brought so many things to my attention: things I now feel responsible to think about but wish I didn’t have to. But I do feel compelled to tell my take away of the piece, and leave it to ruminate with those who have read Animal Farm.
I think the entire book was a genius way of saying that no political system will ever live up to our standards, due to the insufficiency of human nature. This thought really spoke to me in the end when Orwell stressed the similarity between the pigs and humans.
There were gut-wrenching parts, and hopeful parts, all of which I was happy to be there for. I have never been a person to cry over a piece of fiction, but this one almost brought me to the point of tears.
I truly think the last 20 pages of Animal Farm are pages I will think about often in the next few years. I am even sad the copy I have is due back at the library soon; I might have read it again.
Last night I started a new book: The People In The Trees, by Hanya Yanagihara. Clearly less critically acclaimed, but I think I needed a break from thinking; stay tuned.
I am certain that Animal Farm does deserve its place on the grand list of classics, but I do want to warn my few readers to avoid the book if any of these things apply to them:
You can’t hand the obscure and implausible. It is important to remember that animal farm is a metaphor the length of a novel for government, and its many flaws. Thus, many of the events that occur could never happen.
You think the inclusion of all details is important. The novel itself is less than 200 pages, and therefore can’t include every detail.
You like getting to know a few main characters. This book contains an endless amount of characters, and I find it hard to believe I will truly get to know any of them. That being said, I know that is not the point of the book/metaphor.
This book is extremely promising so far, and I can’t wait to see how it plays out. Read along with me if you want to, or recommend my next book by texting 5134007796.
I promise I will read a horrid book next, just so I can speak badly of any book I read; I realize hate is a common and popular theme on the internet.
So far, Animal Farm has followed its own track through dystopia. It focuses on a micro-dystopia rather than a larger one. While my other dystopian reads have been copacetic, I really have enjoyed getting to know the characters (animals) in this secluded farm.
I heavily respect that I foresee the book staying on the farm, and that is completely fine and enjoyable.
Where I have left off is the minute corruption embarks. This is around page 40.
I don’t mean to gush over this book, but I really liked seeing a dystopian world that was not yet dystopian. The one complaint I have is that the language is strange, but I fully understand this is a classic, and I am a high school student: 3 words synonymous for naivety.
Last night, my insomnia struck: something I have not dealt with for a long time. That being said, I was implausibly productive during the wee hours of the morning. The Perks of Being a Wallflower was finished, and here are my thoughts:
The book maintained my attention throughout, and despite being superfluous at times, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I wish I could sit here at my prehistoric computer for hours, details every little bit, nook, and cranny of the story to you, but that would be counterproductive. I think if I handed out a comprehensive plot of the story, readers would never read this book.
So rather I would like to entice you with all the bits, nooks, and crannies of impeccable craft:
Stephen Chbosky explored the depths of teenage thought, and all the variations of it. He painted a clear journey of the protagonist’s struggles and peaks, and made the mundane interesting. He interjected emotion in whenever possible, which enhances the piece if anything, rather than turning it sappy.
So in the wee hours of the night, I finished the book, enjoyed it, then promptly fell asleep. Though, not before starting Animal Farm, by George Orwell.
Ever since about 50 pages ago, the book has maintained continuity. It has remained consistent with the characters, events, and severity of situations. But there is one thing I find incredibly interesting, and what is honestly keeping me turning pages:
The development of Charlie.
As the main character, Charlie is expected to change in the literary world, but my hot take resides in the fact that Charlie never changes, but takes notes. Throughout the book he has dealt with a slew of unfavorable situations. After the main actions of these situations play out, and apologies are given, Charlie’s friends consistently tell him that he’s, “so stupid sometimes.”
I think these subjectively stupid decisions are what underlines the high school experience in the book, and make it a future classic. In other words, timeless.
Reading in a society of haters, for a lack of better words:
I think about the negative responses I get tied to my reading—most of them relating to me being a nerd—a lot. They tell me I am wasting my time and life. But the IS a kicker: they are all minors, and most immature.
Out of this realization I begin to develop empathy; they will never live in an alternate reality without purchasing a 300 dollar headset. They will never hear the sound of a final page being read, no matter how ridiculous that may sound. They will never taste the sweet pairing of tea/coffee and an amazing book. They will never grasp a masterfully crafted theme—no, none of this.
I feel terrible for these people, really, but I will never need things to be sad about. So let's read a spare page or two for these people: the haters, for a lack of better words.
The perks of being a wallflower...from a wallflower.
From a verified wallflower, reading the Perks of Being a Wallflower, I'm confident that I am qualified to say that the prose are nothing to sneeze at, but the high school experience depiction is immaculate. The only thing that surmounts this aspect of the story is the conveyance of emotions.
I specifically remember a moment about 100 pages ago where the characters experience a completely mundane moment, but the emotion moved me to the point of smiling at the ceiling.
I am currently on page 117, signing off.