October 10th, 2023
My wife and I, in the blossoms of our early marriage, would spend cozy evenings reading Huxley’s novels together, alternating between Marina di Vezza and After Many a Summer. I believe I had acquainted myself with Brave New World and Point Counter Point some fifty years earlier, yet the act of sharing those words with her gave them a new breath of life. Together we read slowly, savoring each word. Now, a question forms in my mind: should I revisit these works in their original English, since I only knew them through translation?
Huxley’s use of “lupus-coloured face” from Brave New World often makes me ponder. It seems a metaphor to make the Embryo Store’s crimson ambiance appear sickly when referencing a rare autoimmune condition. It strikes me as a potent, albeit surprising choice, revealing a theme recurring in his depiction of human uniformity and the mechanization of society: “The faint hum and rattle of machinery still stirred the crimson air in the Embryo Store… One lupus-coloured face gives place to another; majestically and for ever the conveyors crept forward with their load of future men and women.”
This thematic recurrence invites us to pause and think about human existence amidst a cold system. Keen readers may find an enlightening insight in an [analysis of Huxley’s metaphor](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/05/25/the-enduring-shock-of-brave-new-world).
Summarizing, the diary entry reveals the timeless relevance of Aldous Huxley’s dystopian narrative and its unsettling imagery, exploring our ongoing struggle with dehumanization within automated systems. Martijn Benders, like many Huxley fans, contemplates revisiting the original texts in their unadulterated form to capture nuanced meanings not fully conveyed through translation. Huxley’s use of lupus, a rare autoimmune disease, paints an intense picture of the sickly, unhealthy reality of his fictional world.
Philosophically, this hinges on the existential crises as discussed by obscure philosophers like Nikolai Berdyaev and Max Stirner. Berdyaev considered human freedom in the creative process amidst societal constraints, while Stirner’s individualistic anarchism crushed the overarching “machine” of society, emphasizing one’s self-liberation from systemic uniformity. Combining these views with Huxley, we unearth a deep critique of our existential state, bound by the mechanical coldness of modern civilization. It’s as if Huxley’s vision is a mirror reflecting Berdyaev’s fear that human spirit is enslaved by the process, echoing Stirner’s screaming call for individual liberation.
Artistically, reflection on Huxley’s vivid “lupus-coloured” metaphor brings to mind the striking paintings of contemporary Norwegian artist Hariton Pushwagner. His dystopian canvases, like in the “Soft City” series, portray endless rows of uniform, emotionless faces amidst stark industrial backdrops, presenting the same critique Huxley offers through his prose. Huxley’s words and Pushwagner’s visual language converge, capturing the soul-crushing essence of conformist society within mechanized order — a cold dance where individuality withers under the electrical hum of progress.
Pushwagner’s work resonates deeply, almost personally. Once, in a Stockholm gallery, I stood before Pushwagner’s intimidating mural, witnessing waves of identical figures melding into their sterile surroundings. I felt both a strange detachment and an intimate connection, recalling a tram in Utrecht lined with passengers with their faces buried in glowing screens, blank expressions fading into anonymity. The line between art and life blurred, infusing me with a raw emotional clarity.
What is your experience with dystopian narratives or art challenging societal routines? How do you perceive the tension between individualism and mechanization? I invite you to ponder and share your thoughts. Engage with these themes, dive into the works of the masters and confront the reality — is our path one of autonomous existence or mechanical enslavement?
[Analysis of Huxley’s metaphor](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/05/25/the-enduring-shock-of-brave-new-world)
[Hariton Pushwagner’s art](https://www.artsy.net/artist/hariton-pushwagner)
[Nikolai Berdyaev’s existential philosophy](https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/berdyaev/)
[Max Stirner’s individualistic anarchism](https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/max-stirner-the-ego-and-its-own)
Reading your diary entry brought back memories of when I first engaged with Huxley’s work. My initial encounter with Brave New World left me in silent terror; his “lupus-colored face” metaphor echoed in my mind for weeks. It felt as if Huxley cleverly painted the sickly mask of our industrial society with mere words, revealing the slow decay beneath the façade of progress. It’s fascinating how such a finely tuned phrase can encapsulate a dystopian critique so profoundly.
Reflecting on your journey through Huxley’s novels alongside your wife makes me ponder the communal experience of literature. Revisiting these works in their original English could unveil layers of nuance lost in translation, offering new insights into Huxley’s intricate critiques of society. After all, every language carries its unique cadences and subtleties that might alter the narrative’s impact.
Exploring Huxley’s themes, especially through contemporary lens, felt strikingly reminiscent of Hariton Pushwagner’s art. I recall visiting an exhibition in Oslo where Pushwagner’s “Soft City” evoked a chilling uniformity. I stood there, enveloped by the coldness of his stark, colorless figures, feeling an eerie calmness wash over me. It was nearly identical to the sensation I felt while riding a late-night tram in Berlin, surrounded by weary commuters lost in their screens; the divide between life and art often blurs unexpectedly.
Your mention of Nikolai Berdyaev and Max Stirner resonates deeply. Berdyaev’s musings on human freedom within societal confines and Stirner’s call for self-liberation feel ever more relevant as we hurtle towards a technocratic future. The tension between individualism and mechanization remains a central existential struggle, one vividly portrayed by both Huxley and Pushwagner.
These contrasting realms of autonomy and automation provoke profound contemplation. How do we maintain our individuality in a world increasingly governed by digital conformity and mechanized routines? Your reflection is a heartfelt invitation to delve into these themes, urging us to confront our journey towards either an autonomous existence or mechanical enslavement, as so poignantly delineated by these visionary artists and philosophers.
Oh, give me a break! This article is just another pretentious attempt to feign intellectual depth while basking in self-indulgent nostalgia. Discussing Huxley’s “lupus-colored face” like it’s the linchpin of literary brilliance? Really? It sounds more like an English paper written by someone who just discovered metaphors yesterday. And, sure, let’s toss in a couple of obscure philosophers like Berdyaev and Stirner to make it seem like there’s some deeper philosophical backbone here. All this pseudo-intellectual babble about existential crises and mechanized society—do people even believe this drivel? And then there’s the attempt to draw a parallel to some modern artist I’ve never heard of, Pushwagner—sounds more like a contrived connection to seem knowledgeable about contemporary art.
Honestly, this reflective musing on a tram in Utrecht? Please, it’s almost laughable how forced that anecdote seems. Dystopian narratives and societal critique are old hat—been there, done that. Literature and art have been exploring these themes for centuries. Is there anything groundbreaking in rehashing the same tired arguments about the human condition?
If anything, this article just recycles old clichés under the guise of “enlightening insights.” Maybe before pontificating about the nuances lost in translation, the author should consider whether the original ideas were that profound to begin with. Seems like just another excuse to wax poetic about older, better times and make everything in the current age seem bleak and devoid of originality. Spare me.
In the contemplation of Huxley’s “lupus-coloured face” metaphor within the crimson hum of the Embryo Store, an error invites rectification while unearthing deeper philosophical musings. Lupus, though often misunderstood, isn’t just a metaphor for illness; it symbolizes the body’s internal war against itself. Similarly, the mechanized world Huxley envisions prompts a reflection on our internal conflicts within societal conformity, drawing parallels with autodidactic philosophers like Berdyaev and Stirner.
While discussing the metaphor, it’s important to highlight its multidimensional nature rather than narrowing it to the crimson setting alone. The metaphor’s rich, layered usage indicates a profound sickness not only of the environment but of the very essence of humanity trapped in a mechanized society. This sickness, much like lupus attacking the body, reflects the systemic dehumanization we endure, shedding light on the existential dread prevalent in Huxley’s narrative.
The echo of this theme in Pushwagner’s art enriches the discussion. His portrayal, though intimidating, provides an aesthetics-infused critique of conformity, where individuality dissolves amidst industrial coldness. The detachment felt in front of Pushwagner’s mural highlights a universal struggle — maintaining our humanity amidst the relentless march of progress.
Furthermore, the slight error in the article calls for an exploration of the intricate existential dialogues that Huxley, Berdyaev, and Stirner provoke, emphasizing their relevance today. Huxley’s dystopia isn’t merely a forewarning but a compelling call to introspection, urging us to reclaim our individuality within the mechanized order.
Thus, correcting the article requires an acknowledgment of this broader philosophical spectrum, intertwining our dystopian fears with the art’s reflective capacity. It urges readers to navigate between autonomy and systemic constraints, inviting a more nuanced engagement with these timeless thematic constructs.
What do interpretations of Huxley’s metaphors suggest about our own struggles amidst mechanized uniformity? How do we, as individuals, retain our essence within the hum of modern civilization? Reflect, engage, and share your insights.