Recently, I re-read George Orwell’s 1984. I had read it when I was a lot younger and not as consciously or intentionally feminist, which was especially clear when I finished it after nearly 2 months and hated it.
Where Winston (our protagonist) had seemed dull, now he seemed deliberately callous. I was miserable for Katherine, his wife, and despised the way Winston describes and speaks to Julia. He states: “I wanted to rape you and then murder you afterwards.” Worst of all, I couldn’t decide if this was intentional or not. Is Winston an anti-hero portraying (a decidedly male) humanity? Or does Orwell just believe that an average man would fantasise about raping a woman who threatens his position? And if the former, why did I struggle to get through it when I love political commentary so much? I felt stupid, and like I just wasn’t smart enough to understand what everyone else did.
Of course, I could see 1984’s value and its relevance today: a totalitarian state, constant surveillance, smaller vocabularies that limit our experiences. That’s all extremely pertinent in today’s world. So why couldn’t I get past my own dogmatic feminism and appreciate the rest of the novel?
Possibly, it was the intimate style of narration that contributed to my reaction to Winston’s misogyny. I have never had such a visceral reaction to Steinbeck’s work, for example, which bears certain similarities to Orwell’s; both are often social commentary, and contain flawed, redeemable male characters often with unfavourable attitudes towards women. 1984 uses a close third-person perspective, meaning, as readers, we feel much closer to Winston’s thoughts and fantasies than in Steinbeck’s work, which uses an omniscient third-person perspective.
I haven’t come to any real conclusions about Orwell’s portrayal of women. More generally, my takeaway has been this: I am free to dislike 1984, and I probably won’t be reading it again. At least not anytime soon. I don’t believe that there is ‘moral capital’ gained from making myself uncomfortable by reading the thoughts of a misogynist. There may be insights to be gained from 1984 and books like it, but I am not more intelligent for having put my ‘dogmatic’ feminism aside. I read for entertainment, to understand culture, not to force myself to empathise with or try to understand the fantasies of someone (fictional or not) who dehumanises women.
So in a way, yes, misogyny did ruin 1984 for me. But it might not for everyone.
I am not trying to imply that there is no value in studying books that do contain misogynistic characters (intentional or not) or that 1984 is a terrible, overtly anti-women novel that feminists can’t enjoy. Nuance is important. 1984 can be a fascinating commentary on political systems and succeed as a philosophical warning, while containing deeply misogynistic undertones that can, and should, be critiqued. Also, it’s important to note that many authors create purposely unreliable narrators or include misogynistic characters to comment on the mistreatment of women specifically. In some ways, we could even gain insight into the minds of misogynists via misogynistic protagonists, something we need even more with the rise of alt-right and incel culture among young men. Portraying misogyny is necessary because it is a facet of human experience, and reading the work of misogynists can still improve our understanding of the world.
But ultimately, misogyny, especially when violent, and particularly when reading for pleasure, is a good and valid enough reason to dislike something.