Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)

Brave New World is certainly strange and uncomfortable in many ways, and can thus be hard to truly grasp and appreciate, but it proposes such a unique and interesting iteration of the dystopian society that it is hard not to be enthralled by it. The book presents the reader with a world that, while twisted and oppressive, appears utopian in nature; its citizens are happy, many diseases have been eradicated, everybody serves a purpose and feels fulfilled by their work, and technology has reached a point of incredible advancement. In a similar manner to books like The Giver, Brave New World subverts that perception of its setting as utopian by gradually exposing its flaws through the musings of rebellious characters like Bernard Marx and the presence of the Savage Reservations, in which life possesses more meaning not just in spite of but because it fails to mimic the perfection of modern society. What I find most interesting about Brave New World is how, even as it begins to portray society as more dystopian than it is utopian, it still manages to leave the reader feeling that the lives of those living in said dystopia might not really be that bad, and that the superficial quality of happiness in society does not matter when it means that the vast majority of citizens feel satisfied, even if that satisfaction is somewhat hollow. Brave New World raises many interesting questions about what it means to truly be fulfilled and find contentment in life, and whether or not natural evils, like disease and hunger, make the best parts of life feel more resonant or meaningful. It is a fascinating book and a classic for a reason, and it's easy to recommend to those who enjoy reading dystopian or science fiction novels.… (more)

Fred Fordham's 2022 graphic novel is extremely faithful to its source in Huxley's Brave New World. It pulls none of the punches in the original book, and is thus at least as likely to be a target for suppression. Fordham admirably adapts the book to the sequential art medium, and includes no scripted third-person narration at all.

The book still retains its profound intertextuality, not only as a reply to H. G. Wells, but in its extensive use of Shakespeare (from the title onward) to exemplify the pre-Fordian "savage" mentality. Readers without grounding in the works of the Bard of Avon are likely to be lost by some of the more important conversations in the later part of the book.

As a piece of cautionary futurism, the story has lost none of its acuity nearly a century later. The centerpiece of Fordian civilization is the human transcendence of viviparity, and today's superstitious appeals to "fetal personhood" seem like a Gordian knot begging for that sword, especially as fertility declines. The extinction of the family is a mere corollary of mass ectogenesis.

The graphic novel illustrates the society well, but the absence of exposition about Fordianism perhaps makes some of Huxley's insights more subtle. I was struck in the theological discussion between John the Savage and Mustapha Mond by the importance of mortality and solitude to metaphysical realization (204), and it put me in mind of Hayy ibn Yaqzan. This allusion in turn connects to the reward/punishment of island exile for nonconfoming alphas, as well as Huxley's own later Island.

Fordham has chosen to depict a variety of phenotypes in Huxley's future managed civilization. Helmholtz Watson, for example, is black, while his fellow alpha Bernard Marx is white. This choice presumably makes it easier for today's denizens of multiracial liberal societies to identify with the culture being shown. But it is not clear how such variety would be maintained in light of the motives and tools toward standardization of the humans produced for the five castes.

I became interested in this book after I heard about Fordham's forthcoming adaptation of Le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea. On the basis of his work with the Huxley text, I will look forward to that.… (more)