The prospect of flying West again, and for a whole week, was very inviting. Anyhow, it was of absolutely no importance. And even then, how inadequately! A cheap week-end in New York–had it been with Jean-Jacques Habibullah or Bokanovsky Jones? She couldn’t remember. Added to which, she had only been to America once before. No, decidedly she couldn’t face the North Pole again. Nothing to do, and the hotel too hopelessly old-fashioned–no television laid on in the bedrooms, no scent organ, only the most putrid synthetic music, and not more than twenty-five Escalator-Squash Courts for over two hundred guests. The trouble was that she knew the North Pole, had been there with George Edzel only last summer, and what was more, found it pretty grim. So odd, indeed, that in the course of the succeeding weeks she had wondered more than once whether she shouldn’t change her mind about the New Mexico holiday, and go instead to the North Pole with Benito Hoover. ODD, ODD, odd, was Lenina’s verdict on Bernard Marx.

Chapter 8 and 9 brave new world summary