A few weeks ago, I finished Aldous Huxley's dystopian novel, Brave New World. I decided to start reading another one of his books this week. It is very different from his previous novel- almost exactly opposite, in fact. In this novel called Island, the main character, John, is given a third option beside being exiled or participating in an "experiment" after he is caught by the government. In the novel, he is able to go to a utopian island where everything about society seems perfect. I know what you're probably thinking. This "perfect society" never seems to quite work out, does it? But somehow, this book seems different. There's nothing, at least on the outside, that would indicate that anything unusual is going on. In Huxley's original novel, society has progressed- and yet they seem to have taken a step backward. People in that society lived short lives, filled with a fake sense of happiness. They took drugs to escape the real world, and shortened their lives as a result. And they didn't have to think on their own, save for the seven world controllers.The constant indoctrination and violent drug use in the "Brave New World" is replaced with knowledge and learning in this island.
"World controller" seems like a big title, but in reality, even they have to follow the rules of the society they have set up. Mustapha Mond, the Resident World Controller for Europe, is one of the few people who actually knows what's going on. And he refuses to do anything about it. Mustapha Mond is actually very similar to Captain Beatty from Fahrenheit 451. Mond is well versed in literature from Cicero to Shakespeare and knows much about art and science. Himself a scientist, he knows that the world could be a place of freedom. He makes the argument, however, that such a world is not the best possible outcome. Instead, he is part of a massive organization that forces everyone to lose their individuality for a greater, utilitarian, ideal.
There are a few places in this fictitious world that have not yet been colonized by the World State, and this remote island is one of them. They live life completely separate from the rest of the modern world, and limit the use of technology. At first glance, the whole concept seems a bit simplistic, but by looking at the book under greater scrutiny, it is clear that Huxley put a lot of thought into his ideas. (If only he could have put the same degree of thought into his writing as well...)
I have not progressed very far through this book yet, but I suspect that there is something more sinister going on here in this seemingly utopian society. If everything is perfect throughout the book, there would be no way for a plot to exist. Unless, of course, the author just got lazy and didn't include much plot at all. I doubt that Huxley would do that, judging from his other famous novel. I think I'll have to read on to find out more about the story.
The great thing about mathematics is that if you use the same equation, you'll get out the same answer every time. It doesn't matter how many times it's used, or who is trying to use it. Well, from my recent literary exploits, I can confidently say that this is definitely not true in writing. Wait, I think I'm getting ahead of myself here. This week, I started reading Anthony Horowitz's new novel called Russian Roulette. It, for the most part, is the (fictional) autobiography of a man named Yassen Gregorovich, one who grew up with a miserable childhood and went on to become one of the most infamous criminals in the world. Seeing as the folks at Goodreads have already written a summary, I'll save you the trouble of reading another one here. When you first meet Yassen, he seems like an innocent little boy from a tiny village who has no idea how mean the world can be (His name is actually Yasha. It's a long story). When the existence of a covert biological weapons factory in the secluded Russian village of Estrov is leaked, the authorities are adamant that there should be no survivors. According to the official story, the village never existed. It was completely uninhabited. And there was no factory of any kind. Luckily, Horowitz saves you from the technical details and gives you a stunning first person narrative of the only known living survivor.
"Never tell anyone you came from Estrov. Never use that word again" (Horowitz 48).
Out of all the reviews you can read on the internet, the Guardian puts it the best. Their anonymous reviewer suggests that "Russian Roulette is a mystery, just like it's protagonist". This line essentially sums up everything that one can conclude when first picking up the book. Yassen is a person of so many contradictions that it is hard to decide who he truly is. Oh, but I forgot... I was going to tell you why the same ingredients can make very different characters. If you've ever read the original series of novels, you might recognize that their protagonist, Alex Rider, is remarkably similar to the elusive, yet haunting antagonist, Yassen Gregorovich. Both of them see their parents killed before they turn 15. Both of them have family members who are part of secret government schemes. Both witness the deaths of their family members, and both of them come to realize the terrible nature of the world after a horrible incident occurs. How did one of them become a hero and the other become the only antagonist to live for every book in the series? If you haven't read any of the books, you can think of it like Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. They came from very similar situations, yet managed to receive their circumstances completely differently. After Yassen's best friend, Leo, dies of the biological weapons plant's disease after coming to Moscow he recounts that "In a way, I think I am writing this to Leo. I have decided to keep a record of my life because I suspect my life will be short...But I sometimes think of him and I would like him to understand what it was that made me what I am. After all, living as a boy of fourteen in a Russian village, it had never been my intention to become a contract killer" (Horowitz 70). The first thing that struck me about these lines was how humane he seems. After all, he makes money killing people! In these rare moments of insight, we are able to learn more about Yassen's character.
The train station where Yassen first arrives in Moscow
At the point I'm at in the book, Yassen is like a little time bomb waiting to explode. He has seen every thing taken away from him, and now he wants to get even with the society that has left him nothing. When he is captured by the authorities, he writes, "I made my first escape attempt that same day. I knew I couldn't stay here. I wasn't going to play any more of their sadistic games and I certainly wasn't going the swallow their food..." (Horowitz 165).
Afraid. Confused. Miserable.
Yassen has found himself in a world that cares little about the victims of the destruction of his village. In fact, it's nowhere to be found on any map. There is nobody who cares about his existence (save for the thieves that take his money). In fact, within a few short months, Yassen is robbed penniless and starved to weakness and kidnapped by a malevolent and corrupt business tycoon. I know you might be tempted to roll your eyes and dismiss this as another sad tale that ends badly- but this isn't that kind of story. You actually know from the start that the protagonist (or shall we call him the antagonist?) will live until the end of the book. And he will have changed. For the worse. Much worse.
That is where the uniqueness of this book comes in. We've all read books where bad characters reform themselves and the good ones die of sad deaths- but how many times do you see the very person you're rooting for throughout the story turn rotten on you? What a horrible trick, Mr. Horowitz. We've all seen our share of books and even more books that tell you not to read them. But this ingenious narrative certainly takes the cake.
The book trailer (first chapter only) is above.
This trailer is in no way representative of the book,
I don't particularly like the section on the blogging packet where you have to write the one book that you are reading. It makes the assumption that you are going to pick up one book, read it all the way through, and then start another one. And I tend to read about four books at the same time.
While I was reading Brave New World, I also started a drastically different book by Anthony Horowitz. Many of you might know Horowitz for his Alex Rider series- but his new novel, "Russian Roulette" is written for an older (high school) audience. This new prequel in the series diverges from the typical plot structure; it is mostly written in the first person, and rather than focusing on the child espionage agent himself, it details the life of Yassen Gregorovich.
Yassen is an interesting individual. He is a ruthless contract killer who was a primary and secondary antagonist for much of the original series. Yet, he comes off as strangely humane. The story begins as Gregorovich opens his laptop the day before the first book in the series, Stormbreaker. He inserts a flash drive- with multi-layer encryption of course- and begins to read his personal diary. It already sounds so strange that the most elite assassin in the world would keep a diary. But it keeps getting stranger. Yassen's personal tale begins with his life in a small Russian village where he witnesses his father, mother, and best friend getting killed by an outbreak at a biological weapons factory. Determined to keep the incident out of the news, the Soviet authorities attempt to destroy the village and all of its inhabitants. Yassen manages to escape with his friend Leo, who death is detailed by a dreadfully grim description.
Eventually, Yassen has to find his way in the city of Moscow. He is quickly robbed and tricked by a gang of local thieves, and feels that he has no hope left in the world.
I'm only about half way through the book, but I can easily understand why Horowitz took so long to write this novel compared to the original books. It's much deeper emotionally and plot-wise, along with its much higher level diction and syntax. In fact, the first person narration is so much better than his usual utilitarian style that I wonder why he didn't write all of his books this way. You can see the contrast within the first two chapters. The first is written in his traditional style with fast paced sentences, mounting suspense, and more allusions than you could possibly imagine. The second chapter is from the mind of Yassen Gregorovich, which gives it a sentimental and nostalgic tone. Here are two excerpts:
Chapter 1: "[The Guard] was quite a bit older than Yassen, probably an ex-convict recruited from a local prison. And he was scared. He tried to make light of it. 'I won't do that again!' he said. 'No,' Yassen replied. 'You won't'. The Beretta was already in his hand. He shot the man in the chest, propelling him backward into the darkness and the sea below. It had been necessary to set an example. There would be no further clumsiness that night." (Horowitz 11)
Chapter 2: "The real nightmare was behind me. It was almost impossible to think of my village and the people who had lived there. Mr. Vladimov smoking his cigarettes until the stubs turned his fingers black. Mrs. Bek, who ran the village shop and put up with everyone's complaints when there was nothing on the shelves. The twins, Irina and Olga, so alike that we could never tell them apart but was always arguing at each others throats. My grandmother. My parents. My friends. They had all gone as if they had never existed, and nothing would remain of them, not even their names. Never tell anyone you came from Estrov. Never use that word again." (Horowitz 48).
I'm not sure how the rest of the book will turn out, seeing as this is the first time Horowitz is trying out this new style. But so far, it's looking like it will be pretty interesting.
