A science fiction masterpiece that feels close to fact
In this age of frozen embryos, over-medicated kids, portable entertainment devices, online social networks and declining historical education, critics warn about the dawn of a "brave new world." Indeed, the phrase has penetrated our cultural consciousness so completely that it exerts potent power, even for those who have never read the novel to which it alludes. Brave New World, the 1932 masterpiece by Aldous Huxley, may be science fiction, but it feels closer to fact. Its dystopian world simultaneously represents who we are and who we fear we might become.

In this future world, babies are born only in test tubes, Henry Ford is worshiped as God, everyone is raised in Government Conditioning Centers and nobody aspires to rise above his or her predestined caste. Babies listen to hypnopaedic lessons in their sleep, brainwashing them into mindless conformity and — since "there is no social stability without individual stability" — to take Soma tablets whenever something unpleasant happens. Soma acts like a mixture of Xanax, Ecstasy, and anti-depressants, easing anyone who takes it into a state of sedated bliss.

But this world is more depressing for what it lacks: passion, family, art. Great literature from the past is outlawed, history is no longer taught, and nobody marries or falls in love ("every one belongs to every one else"). When a "savage" from a state-run reservation is brought back to civilization, people react with awe, in part because many feel twinges of wanting something more — some greater purpose or meaning. Some critics of the book complain that the characters feel like ciphers, but in fact, this perceived flaw in the writing serves only to make Huxley’s point about what humanity stands to lose in the name of "stability."

The audio version gets under the skin so completely that one hears hypnopaedic whispers during sleep. Pharmaceutical and junk food ads start to sound like them, too. With a smooth British accent and relentless cheer, narrator Michael York strikes the perfect tone — soothing as Soma, and equally disturbing for being so.

Copyright © 1932 by Aldous Huxley. All rights reserved.
Copyright 1998, 2003 by BBC Audiobooks America. All rights reserved. Copyright exists on all recordings issued by BBC Audiobooks America. Any unauthorized broadcasting, public performance, copying or re-recording of such recordings in any manner whatsoever, will constitute an infringement of such copyright.