Dystopia 2021

“Dignity? How can there be dignity if we care so little for the dignity of others?”

—Julian


In December 1983, it was a common thing to speculate about how similar (and different) the world was from that anticipated (proposed?) by George Orwell’s classic dystopia, 1984.

A few days ago I picked up P.D. James’ 1992 novel for the first time in 15 or 20 years and was surprised to rediscover that the first entry in Theo’s diary was for this coming Friday:

Friday 1 January 2021  Early this morning, 1 January 2021, three minutes after midnight, the last human being born on earth was killed in a pub brawl in a suburb of Buenos Aires, aged twenty-five years, two months and twelve days. . . .

I had forgotten that in The Children of Men (1992) the events all occur in 2021. The premise (no spoilers if you haven’t read it) is that human fertility declines so that no one is born after 1995. The implications are frightening, as the aging population comes to trade freedom for security (in the normal way) as it faces the coming disintegration of the social order.

Boris Johnson is not the Warden of England, and the disaster James speculated about is not upon us, but the cautions James weaves into this “hopeful dystopia” are ones we may benefit from in this, the age of the latest pandemic.

Recommended (again).*

*I have no opinion about the 2006 movie, which (in any case) is set in 2027, not 2021.

2019 Reading

The only planBy this stage of my life, I have more-or-less hit my stride, and this last year I read just about the normal number of books, clocking in about two a week.

I was surprised that almost 40% fell into the nonfiction category (typically biography or memoir), but with  smattering of other sub-genres. The rest were novels.

On the non-fiction side,  I particularly enjoyed

Garrett M. Graff, The Only Plane in the Sky: An Oral History of 9/11 (2019) was an excellent account of that day, and reminded me of much which I had known and forgotten.

Stephen L. Carter, Invisible (2018), and Condoleezza Rice, Extraordinary, Ordinary People (2010) explored each author’s family history and shed some light on the black experience in America. Both books are well worth your time, as is Albert Woodfox, Solitary (2019) [post], which tells a rather different story. All three are enlightening.

Two old favorites came out with new offerings: Bill Bryson, The Body: A Guide for Occupants, and Malcolm Gladwell, Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know about the People We Don’t Know, were both published in 2019. The Body has many quality instances of Brysonian snark, but Talking to Strangers is the more arresting book, and will bear re-reading, I think.

Antonin Scalia died in 2016, but some of his writings and speeches were collected in Scalia Speaks: Reflections on Law, Faith, and Life Well Lived (2017) [post], and On Faith: Lessons from an American Believer (2019) . Through these pieces, the justice is revealed as a man of deep thoughts, precise words and strong opinions. For those of certain political persuasions who know him as the Prince of Darkness of American jurisprudence, there will be much here to explain Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s famous comment that they were “best buddies.” Indeed she wrote a forward to Scalia Speaks. There is some overlap between the two books, but each is worth reading.

John Lewis Gaddis, The Cold War (2005), Warren Zanes, Petty (2015), Karen Swallow Prior, On Reading Well (2018), and C. John Collins, Reading Genesis Well (2018) [post] were good reading and good education.

Virgil WanderOn the fiction side, I “discovered” (like Columbus “discovered” America) three authors and began investigating their other books:

Leif Enger — Virgil Wander (2018), Peace Like a River (2001) — two standalone novels (with the Empress movie theater in common), that are beautifully written. I am looking forward to picking up So Brave, Young, and Handsome (2008), and hope that I do not have to wait too many years for a fourth.

H.S. Cross — Grievous (2019), Wilberforce (2015) — each about an English boys school, and each lush and dense with moral ambiguity and spiritual pondering. Not for everyone, perhaps, but two which I will reread thoughtfully.

Amor Towles — A Gentleman in Moscow (2016), Rules of Civility (2011) — two marvelous books, and ones I am embarrassed to have missed in their publication years.

Old friends published in 2019 and did not disappoint, including Peter Heller, The River [post] [review], Alastair Reynolds, Shadow Captain, Richard Russo, Chances Are . . . , and Neal Stephenson, Fall. I had anticipated several of these [post] and also William Gibson, Agency, which will come out in a couple of weeks.

Once again the labor of other old friends (including Wendell Berry, C.S. Lewis, Evelyn Waugh, Charles Williams and Herman Wouk), were greatly enjoyed.

As the Preacher say, “ Of making many books there is no end,” and to that I reply, “. . . and thank God for that!” The complete list is in the sidebar.