The ability to speak does not make one intelligent. Drawing out your point and padding your book with page-long paragraphs does not make it better, it just makes it dull. There's better flow in the fucking Bible, which I would argue has the opposite problem than Orwell's books.
Instead of attacking your argument, downvoting you, or telling you "You're wrong!" I'll instead take a different approach...
The wordiness isn't just about padding out the descriptions for events and character motivations, feelings, etc., it's about setting a mood and luring the reader into the atmosphere. We call it world-building.
The prose is structured in a way to flow like the melody of classical music. You wouldn't cut off all of the slow parts of a popular piece just to get to the loud or fast parts, because the loud and fast parts need the slow build in order to be appreciated. It's the whole journey that makes the experience worthwhile. It has its strides, its pauses, and the crescendo effect.
The idea is to hook you, so that you follow the melody of the prose so you understand what the outcome of the scenario is in those two paragraphs; you're drawn into how contemptible and disgusting the whole thing is, but you also want to know how it ends. It's about patiently soaking in all of the details.
Orwell was attempting to setup just how believably exaggerated the situation was, but at the same time give people the harrowing image of how easy it is to be roped into authoritarian propaganda that has the throng willing to kill thousands in one second, and then willing switch enemies in the next.
A few simple sentences like, "Eurasia was no longer the enemy. The thousands persecuted now free of guilt's yoke. Eastasia had been announced as our new foes, and no one batted an eye at the proclamation."
Same thing, written differently, and with far less emotional impact.
Now you may think that brevity is the virtue of grabbing one's attention, but the melodic structure of Orwell's prose is what draws you into the world. You can envision the stage, the lighting, the banners, the jeering, the anger, and even the little man with an imposing will making the announcement to people. Simplifying all of that strips away the mood, the atmosphere, the emotion, and in turn, the impact that it has on the reader.
It's not just about length, it's about setting up the scene, making you engaged in what's happening, and then giving you the payoff by eliciting the details.
The entire book is written that way, and it serves a HUGE purpose leading up to Winston's torture and reconditioning at the Ministry of Truth and Ministry of Love, where we get excruciating details of WHY he changed the way he felt about Big Brother, Julia, and the society in which he lived. Those details were absolutely essential for understanding his psyche and his pain.
All of this is foreshadowed with all of the other minutiae that Orwell paints with exquisite precision throughout the previous chapters of the book. It all helps the reader to accept the payoff in the end: that Big Brother wins.
And when you understand how it all works, it makes it easier to accept Winston's decisions and his place in that totalitarian society.
I doubt this will change your mind about the book, but hopefully it helps lay out the process of why some things are written the way they are.
The ability to speak does not make one intelligent. Drawing out your point and padding your book with page-long paragraphs does not make it better, it just makes it dull. There's better flow in the fucking Bible, which I would argue has the opposite problem than Orwell's books.
Instead of attacking your argument, downvoting you, or telling you "You're wrong!" I'll instead take a different approach...
The wordiness isn't just about padding out the descriptions for events and character motivations, feelings, etc., it's about setting a mood and luring the reader into the atmosphere. We call it world-building.
The prose is structured in a way to flow like the melody of classical music. You wouldn't cut off all of the slow parts of a popular piece just to get to the loud or fast parts, because the loud and fast parts need the slow build in order to be appreciated. It's the whole journey that makes the experience worthwhile. It has its strides, its pauses, and the crescendo effect.
The idea is to hook you, so that you follow the melody of the prose so you understand what the outcome of the scenario is in those two paragraphs; you're drawn into how contemptible and disgusting the whole thing is, but you also want to know how it ends. It's about patiently soaking in all of the details.
Orwell was attempting to setup just how believably exaggerated the situation was, but at the same time give people the harrowing image of how easy it is to be roped into authoritarian propaganda that has the throng willing to kill thousands in one second, and then willing switch enemies in the next.
A few simple sentences like, "Eurasia was no longer the enemy. The thousands persecuted now free of guilt's yoke. Eastasia had been announced as our new foes, and no one batted an eye at the proclamation."
Same thing, written differently, and with far less emotional impact.
Now you may think that brevity is the virtue of grabbing one's attention, but the melodic structure of Orwell's prose is what draws you into the world. You can envision the stage, the lighting, the banners, the jeering, the anger, and even the little man with an imposing will making the announcement to people. Simplifying all of that strips away the mood, the atmosphere, the emotion, and in turn, the impact that it has on the reader.
It's not just about length, it's about setting up the scene, making you engaged in what's happening, and then giving you the payoff by eliciting the details.
The entire book is written that way, and it serves a HUGE purpose leading up to Winston's torture and reconditioning at the Ministry of Truth and Ministry of Love, where we get excruciating details of WHY he changed the way he felt about Big Brother, Julia, and the society in which he lived. Those details were absolutely essential for understanding his psyche and his pain.
All of this is foreshadowed with all of the other minutiae that Orwell paints with exquisite precision throughout the previous chapters of the book. It all helps the reader to accept the payoff in the end: that Big Brother wins.
And when you understand how it all works, it makes it easier to accept Winston's decisions and his place in that totalitarian society.
I doubt this will change your mind about the book, but hopefully it helps lay out the process of why some things are written the way they are.