A Choice of Control
While reading the poem by Adrienne Rich in A Measure of Restraint , I was immediately reminded of the sample essay prompt we read in class about Huxley’s Brave New World . Huxley had predicted that what we loved would eventually be the cause of our deaths and that is exactly the story of Marie Curie, for she kept “denying/her wounds came from the same source as her power”. In this case, it seems quite fitting to call Marie Curie foolish since she was consumed by her very own obsession with radium. I feel like you could argue that dying because of something you love is not all that bad. In some instances, it is better to die from what you love than from what you hate because at least you die happy, right? When Huxley claimed that we would die from what we loved, I don’t think he wanted to argue that we would have the better option when facing death; rather, he presented the idea that our own foolishness would mark our end. Love is a choice, which means that not loving is also choice...