Chapter 6: Classics? Or Not?
Blake Austin.
Seventeen years old.
Medium high height.
Lean body.
Olive skin.
Black hair.
Dark eyes.
In case you are wondering, that's me. Blake Austin.
My Father's sur-name wasn't Austin. It was Williams. David Williams. Once I asked him why he chose Austin for my sur-name. He said that Austin is a sur-name of a famous author. Some of her works were considered 'Classics'.
Were. Not anymore.
I've read some of the dystopian novels of your age, stored safely and properly in a hidden chamber of my Father's closet. No one knows. Not a single soul.
From those novels, I got to know that some people, of your age, thought a Future Dictator would destroy every kind of literature to make the fellow servants unable to think like a scholar.
Little did they know what would actually happen.
They didn't destroy the literary works, nor did they replace them...
They changed them. The OneGov changed the precious works of the Past. They analyzed every word, every sentence, every paragraph and changed the parts they thought went against them.
No one knows. That the books are not original... without the Leaders.
As my Mother is a Leader, my Dad knows too. And from my Dad, me. He has some very old and original versions of 'classic' novels... a whole bookshelf. with other literary works. Poetry, Fiction, Fantasy, Dystopia.
"Who gave you these books?" I remember asking once I finished a book called The Hunger Games.
My Father said, this book was very famous.
You may not recognise it. Maybe your time is far, far behind. But don't worry. Suzanne Collins will be born when the time will come and she will, one day, start writing about the life of Katniss, Peeta and lovely Prim. I will not talk about Gale... for some reasons, (maybe unknown reasons) I hate him. No. I dislike him. Hate is such a strong word.
Anyways, back to the topic. I was younger then. Classics seemed boring. Dystopia seemed exciting. So, I settled in reading dystopias.
"Many of them, I inherited from my Father, your Grandpa. Some of them, I bought from Black Market," my Father replied, handing me Catching Fire, the next book of the series.
"What is Black Market?" my little self asked.
"You'll know once you grow up."
Contended with the reply, I started surfing through the life of young Ms. Everdeen.
So, yeah. I am one of the very, very, very few persons who have tasted the real works of literature.
Those days have become old.
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