by Sam Devenport
(obviously)
The one aspect of Brave New World that manages to strike me on a consistent basis is the population's choice in deity. This itself is of course a somewhat inaccurate phrasing: few, if any, of the individuals in Brave New World are gifted with the opportunity of choice in serious matters. What I mean, instead, is the God and the subsequent religion (though the specifics of the latter are left rather unacknowledged), the ones that have been imposed, assumedly, by the architects that designed and constructed the crooked world illustrated in the book.
Fairly early on in Brave New World, Aldous Huxley gives an unavoidably dubious explanation of history, describing the elaborate developments that eventually lead to the destruction of society and the reemergence of an entirely different one, and in doing so confirms what references to familiar characters and contexts might have already suggested: that his world, the world depicted in his book, is in fact the same as ours if only many years later. This was a reassuring development, lending a little clarity to what I felt was insofar an extended romp through the possibilities of the mind to conjure unsettling fantasy. It also helps to clarify the frequent allusions to "Ford", who apparently serves as god for all individuals. Soon we realize that this "Ford" is in fact Henry Ford, the founder and creator of the Ford motor company made infamous in the early 20th century for its phenomenal performance in business.
Of course it feels at first ridiculous, almost comical-for us, Henry Ford was nothing more than a corporate mogul, and a somewhat unlettered and ignorant one at that. Admittedly, his accomplishments are commendable, even revolutionary, but for many his significance fails to transcend the smudge of black on the page of a textbook. What becomes soon enough apparent is how pertinent the individual Henry Ford is to the individuals in Brave New World. The most notable quality was Ford's knack for ultra-efficiency: he pioneered the assembly line, for instance, a supreme example of production efficiency in history. It is this same sensitivity to efficiency that serves as the foundation of society in Brave New World. The result, of course, is a quiet dystopia, one that is, by all conventional standards, frighteningly flawless, but in reality aggressively banal and oppressive. In the lives of the characters in the novel, there is little uncertainty and thus very little room for diversity. Existence is preconceived and inflexibly executed. There is little suffering, little pain and little insecurity and little doubt. And though this might at first feel idealistic, there is a nagging doubt that there might be some aspect of living, some ineffable quality of life that is lost or neglected in this seemingly perfect process.