I’m finally getting around to re-reading Orwell’s 1984.  When I read it in 1977, 1984 seemed so far away.  (Teenage years have that effect–we could never get there fast enough.)  Eventually, 1984 rolled around, and Orwell’s world didn’t come to pass.  A year or two ago I began thinking maybe Orwell had it right, but he was just off by 20 years, so I decided to re-read the book.  I dug through my stuff at home a couple Christmases ago and found the book.

Two nights ago, I began reading.  I’m amazed at the difference a few years of experience and retrospective makes in how I view this novel.  We’re not there yet, but I can see so much of it taking shape that it’s scary.