The Dystopian Utopia

The Dystopian Utopia

People think they are free when they are happy in their paradise, however, they are more confined.


A perfect society in this world exists. This world only exists inside each individual's mind since there are different definitions for what creates a perfect world. However, one similar quality within everyone's little world is how to maintain its perfect status and how to keep power over it. Although complete perfection is impossible to fulfill, it does not stop people from striving towards it.

An example of a compelling utopian story is narrated by Aldous Huxley in "Brave New World," which shows how a few inconspicuous factors of power, such as burying a whole world's past and suppressing undesirable human emotions, can play an extreme role on the journey to their perfect utopian world.

Mustapha Mond chose to continue the perfect storybook created by previous World Controllers. As a hero of this world, he continues to bury the history of the "old world" in order to "protect" his world from the old ideologies that create unhappiness and ultimately lead to an imbalanced, chaotic society. He takes a major stride towards his own idea of perfection because if he hides the past, he rewrites what people should value and therefore, dictates how the society will run. On the other hand, John's ideal world is on its own. In order to maintain control and keep his values, he whips himself for self-discipline. For instance, the exposure of historic texts from Shakespeare leads John to dive into a deeper understanding of humanitarian values, causing him to crave the miseries in life. He strives for the old ideology that suffering must be endured in order to truly appreciate the values of passion and happiness.

However, Mustapha Mond and previous World Controllers, in order to preserve their status and power, designed the society to where once one is exposed to the humanitarian values of the past, they would be alone in achieving those ideologies. Unfortunately enough, John's ideal world shatters as he ironically lives through his own Shakespearean tragedy, which is only a small story within Mustapha Mond's book. He embodied everything that the society was warned against, "mother, monogamy, [and] romance" and felt too strongly on his own, eventually driving himself to his end. By concealing the people's history, a crucial part of their identity is lost.

Because everyone is in uniform with what is imprinted in their minds, their community influences them to believe what is being taught about their present world, they will eventually hold them as personal values and look upon the old world with aversion. Therefore, once exposed to the knowledge of the past, it becomes extremely difficult to live within a society that holds a completely different set of values. The deeper one dives within the past, the more isolated and insane they will become, feeding into Mustapha Mond's flawless story. In the end, Mustapha Mond not only buries their history, but he also buries the people who dare to seek out the past so no one is able to grasp that power. Thus, proving that exposure to history is too dangerous for those other than the World Controller himself, the one with the most knowledge, the author of all their stories, and therefore, the one who will always prevail to the top.

Power is within emotions. People suffer when experiencing negative emotions, which eventually incites conflict even on a large scale: war, disease, and death. So by eliminating part of their humanity and their freedom to feel all natural emotions, people will no longer be able to pose a threat within Mustapha Mond's "Brave New World." The people within this society are given the opportunity to escape from their issues to a paradise that lies with soma. Although it cuts the time of living, the controllers claim that the ideal life is more time being happy and less time to lose suffering in a prolonged life without soma, in other words, the happy quality of life makes it seem longer than a prolonged time of living that includes suffering. Because it is so easily accessible, people become addicted to the happiness that comes from the other side of the pill. John sees how enslaved everyone is by soma once his mother passes away and says, "Don't you want to be free...?" There is no point in being dissatisfied, so, therefore, Mustapha Mond has control over them like slaves by luring people into the palms of his hands with soma.

The happiness that results from the drug is an illusion of freedom. People think they are free when they are happy in their paradise; however, they are more confined, but by being happy, there is no reason to think otherwise. In fact, by altering the characteristics and qualities within each person in different castes, most people within the society are unable to think of their ideal world and how to feel about specific issues since they have the inability to see them and blindly follow what they are told to do by their predestination. If the source of happiness lies within the hands of the government, people will gravitate towards governmental values in order to obtain it; therefore, by controlling one's emotions, he wins the heart and deceives the mind.

Extreme lengths are measured when maintaining power over a perfect society of "COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, [and] STABILITY." Damage upon humanity spreads like an invisible wildfire within "Brave New World" that only the reader can see. Aldous Huxley tells his story with intentional flaws in the perfect world for his audience to understand that what is seen on the outside, the mask, may seem like a utopian society. However, once uncovered and digging is done, he reveals its true colors and presents itself to be a dystopia.

(All quotes are from "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley)

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13 Of The Best, Most Famous Poems Ever Written

Masterpieces by some of our favorites like as Shakespeare, John Donne, and Homer.

Some of us read poetry for an eager and fast escape from this world. On the other hand, some of us read poetry solely to share it with the ones we love. There are miracles on paper that can easily be forgotten about if we let them be. The following poems are written by some of our favorites such as Shakespeare, John Donne, Homer, and more. It is clear why these have become some of the most famous and unforgettable poems ever written. So grab a pen, and interpret these poems in your own, unique way.

1. “Go and Catch a Falling Star” - John Donne

Go and catch a falling star,

Get with child a mandrake root,

Tell me where all past years are,

Or who cleft the devil's foot,

Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

Or to keep off envy's stinging,

And find

What wind

Serves to advance an honest mind.

If thou be'st born to strange sights,

Things invisible to see,

Ride ten thousand days and nights,

Till age snow white hairs on thee,

Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,

All strange wonders that befell thee,

And swear,

No where

Lives a woman true, and fair.

If thou find'st one, let me know,

Such a pilgrimage were sweet;

Yet do not, I would not go,

Though at next door we might meet;

Though she were true, when you met her,

And last, till you write your letter,

Yet she

Will be

False, ere I come, to two, or three.

2. “Drinking Alone in the Moonlight” - Li Po

Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,

No friends at hand, so I poured alone;

I raised my cup to invite the moon,

Turned to my shadow, and we became three.

Now the moon had never learned about drinking,

And my shadow had merely followed my form,

But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;

To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.

Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;

Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.

Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;

Drunk, then each went off on his own.

But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,

We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.

3. “Sonnet 18” - William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

4. “The World Is Too Much with Us” - William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

5. “She Walks in Beauty” - Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

6. “How Do I Love Thee?”- Elizabeth Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

7. “ Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” -Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

8. The Jabberwocky” - Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;

Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree

And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”

He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

9. “Tears Fall in My Heart” - Paul Verlaine

Tears fall in my heart

Rain falls on the town;

what is this numb hurt

that enters my heart?

Ah,the soft sound of rain

on roofs, on the ground!

To a dulled heart they came,

ah, the song of the rain!

Tears without reason

in the disheartened heart.

What? no trace of treason?

This grief's without reason.

It's far the worst pain

to never know why

without love or disdain

my heart has such pain!

10. “We Wear the Mask” - Paul Lawrence Dunbar

We wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—

This debt we pay to human guile;

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,

And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,

In counting all our tears and sighs?

Nay, let them only see us, while

We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise.

We sing, but oh the clay is vile

Beneath our feet, and long the mile;

But let the world dream otherwise,

We wear the mask!

11. “The Panther” - Rainer Maria Rilke

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,

has grown so weary that it cannot hold

anything else. It seems to him there are

a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,

the movement of his powerful soft strides

is like a ritual dance around a center

in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils

lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,

rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,

plunges into the heart and is gone.

12. “Sea Fever” - John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

13. "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Goodnight" -Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Save these poems for your next coffee shop date or solitude moment. You might be surprised at how much you can find yourself in a poem.

Cover Image Credit: Thought Catalog

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Roxane Gay's 'Hunger' Breaks Down Body Disassociation

Monday February 18th, 2019

In her memoir, Roxane Gay opens readers up to her relationship with her body: disassociation with feeling and experiencing sensation after her childhood trauma.


Hunger is a memoir written by Roxane Gay. It was published on June 13th, 2017 and it is 320 pages long. Hunger is a personal account of Roxane Gay's life, largely consumed by her weight. She addresses her experience of living in a body without control of her size and lacking the discipline that society encourages women to have over their bodies.

She goes through encounters with her body from a childhood shaken by sexual assault, her 20s, which she calls her "lost years", and becoming an established writer. We follow her as the trauma she was subjected to at 12 years old, follows her relationship with her body until adulthood. She ate to cope with her sorrow and to protect herself from being hurt.

She believed that if she shrouded herself with weight, perhaps she would be so intolerable that she would ultimately be free of male dominion over her body. Hunger is the story of being overweight when "the bigger you are, the smaller your world becomes".

Roxane Gay was born in October of 1974 to Haitian immigrants in Omaha, Nebraska. She was sexually assaulted at the age of twelve which contributed to a subsequent overeating disorder. These habits were formed as a way to manage her pain and trauma as well as regain control of her body. She went away to boarding school shortly after the incident, in addition to weight loss camps nearly every summer. As she approached her teenage years, she began to write as an outlet for her frustration and healing. She often made fictional, female characters who were traumatized or taken advantage of.

Currently, Gay is championed as a feminist author, professor, editor, commentator, and activist. She is the author of the New York Times bestseller, Bad Feminist. She writes fictional short stories, autobiography and socio/political commentaries. She is a former writer of World of Wakanda and was one of the first Black women to be a lead writer for Marvel. She is also a contributing opinion writer at the New York Times, the co-founder of PANK magazine, editor of The Rumpus and publisher of Tiny Hardcore Press. She works as an associate professor of English at Purdue University and she is openly bi-sexual.

Her story is deeply personal, making a political statement about expectations of womanhood and gender, sexuality, trauma and hope. We learn how her body has "informed" her feminism and taught her about the greater machines of society demonizing fat bodies and that work so hard to produce unrealistic standards that we hunger for.

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