A few weeks ago, I started reading 1984 as a change of pace from the Rubus novels I went through. That was when news from Cuba came out on Twitter, and Cubans had taken to the streets.

Our media, which allows claims of Cuba’s “entirely free” health care to go unchallenged, told us they were upset that COVID vaccines were in short supply. But everything has been in short supply. Farmland that could be cultivated with modern techniques is wasted by political bullies who must control everything even when there’s nothing left. Little abuelas are saying they have lived under communism for 60 years and they’re sick of it. The protests sprang up everywhere. Police have ushered hundreds of people off the streets, beating them for protesting or “disappearing” them. World reports some of the details here.

Communists blocked all or most of the country’s Internet access early on, prompting U.S. advocates to talk about deploying special Internet beacons like we did in Puerto Rico a few years ago. Doctors are now speaking up about the sorry condition of state-run hospitals. Health is not a particular care of the state.

This week, Cuba has made it illegal to complain online, so the video last month of a woman crying hysterically over her son bleeding to death under state-run care, wounds caused by police, would be a crime to record and share. Praising the all-knowing, ever-benevolent state is all that’s allowed.

With this going on, I found it difficult to read 1984. The parallels were too strong, the story too dark. It was akin to enduring my mother’s death in a hospital a couple years ago and later trying to watch a Korean TV drama set in a hospice care facility in which characters regularly pass away.

I made it through about 70-90 pages. I heard a professor (I think) say he thought the book felted dated, pulled out of history’s dustbin. I think it describes Cuba perfectly. A country at war with ideological enemies. History constantly rewritten to agree with present claims. Enthusiastic support of our dear leader is required from all. No one is interested in discussing the truth or exploring possibilities. No one wants personal risk or neighborly respect. The state speaks for the people, because the people have no voice of their own.

I don’t find that kind of fear entertaining or enlightening.

I wonder if Cuba has their own version of Newspeak.