A Great Moment in Literary History

In the Utopia course I am taking right now, we are currently looking at the novel We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin.


This book is widely held to be the great-grandpa of dystopic literature.

In the past, I have expressed my general disdain for literature at this point in my life - especially the novel format.

But damn.

When a book like this comes to my attention, it almost makes me think that the literary world isnt a redundantly luxuriant, self-satisfying waste (O NO - LONG WORDS - i had to look each one of those words up that i just put there).

This book is dope as hell.

Absurd, comedic, insightful, written in short segments (so its easy to digest).

equal parts whimsical and harsh

there is a lot of positive adjectives which could be put to use in this situation.


The main point I want to draw attention to right now, is a section from Record 21, which is on page 119 in the version I am reading:

That whole night I heard wings of some kind, and I walked about trying to protect my head with my arms from those wings. Then there was a chair, but not like one of our chairs now - this one was old-fashioned, made of wood. And I'm moving my legs like a horse (right foreleg and left hind leg, left foreleg and right hind leg). Then the chair runs right up to my bed and jumps in. And I make love to the wooden chair. It was uncomfortable. It hurt.

now - you can read into the metaphor all you want
but it is a remarkable moment in literature when a man can have a intimate encounter with a chair

so brilliantly absurd


it makes me feel not so bad about the sensations i get when i am in the fruit section at the grocery store


if you ever come across the book, take a look at it


it has pull