Never let it be said that George Orwell did not lead an interesting life. Although he was afforded world renown but a few years before his untimely death with the publication of his great dystopian novel, 1984, and the brilliant allegory, Animal Farm, his other works are largely unread by the wider public. Among his biographical works lies this grimy but lively
account of the time he experienced
poverty first hand when he was an unknown and penniless writer.
Orwell's struggle with poverty began in 1928 when he moved to Paris to concentrate on his writing. The previous year he had resigned his commission and a promising career in the Indian Imperial Police, a career he despised along with the distasteful trappings of imperialism. He returned to England from Burma, very much to the disproval of his family, a disproval that was exacerbated by his declaration that he wanted to become a writer. Without his family's support he moved to Paris to teach himself to write.Orwell certainly learnt a good deal of his craft in Paris, but not to the tune of any financial success. Ironically it was Orwell's
destitution that was responsible for his first publishing success.
With no money Orwell was forced to take up menial work as a plongeur, a dishwasher and quite the lowest rung on the very carefully observed social ladder of the Parisian restaurant. His description of the working
conditions in which a plongeur worked are truly remarkable and are brightly illuminated with all of Orwell's considerable eloquence. The horrendous conditions he describes include the stifling heat of the ovens in windowless kitchens, the utter filth and lack of general hygiene, the constant bullying by hierarchy and race, the seventeen hour days and of course the pathetically low pay that kept all the low in their inescapable places. Besides the power of his own prose in describing his poverty Orwell illustrated very clearly how the impoverished are kept in their place without hope of escape by a combination of numbing fatigue and wages that permit survival on a daily basis but no more.
Orwell recounts how he finally called on some help and was sent five pounds by a friend to pay his fare back to England. The same friend promised him a job teaching in London. With a steady income Orwell could devote more of his time to writing. However, on arriving back in London Orwell's friend informed him that the job was unavailable for a further month. With no money and not wishing to be a financial burden on friends or family, Orwell took to the streets. Once again he is forced to pawn his clothes, going about in little more than dirty rags.
Here Orwell describes the experience shared by the unseen thousands of London's disenfranchised and destitute, the filthy underbelly of the capital's lost. He spent his days moving from hostel to spike, an overnight only lodging for the homeless with rules so draconian one is reminded of prison. With little alternative Orwell was at least dry and fed a little bread in theses spikes, but the conditions were quite fearful. Fifity unwashed, hungry, forlorn and often diseased men did not make for charming bedfellows. Orwell, being of a fastidious nature, found the constant filth of destitution the heaviest cross to bear. Such close proximity did have its reward for Orwell who was able to get to learn a considerable amount about the nature and spirit of the London tramp. He speaks tellingly about his fellows in rather ambivalent terms. With a certain disdain for the abjectness of their condition, he is nonetheless aware that man is easily driven to lose hope and virtue when his belly is empty.
It has been written that Down and Out in Paris and London had no immediate effect on his readership's conscience, but it's 1933 publication marked the beginning of his "water dripping on stone" influence. The beginnings of Orwell's voice. His account of poverty and destitution is a masterpiece in its description of the particulars of his tramping experience whilst illustrating the wider and ever present causes of poverty.The visceral reality of Orwell's life at the time makes his account genuine. He was never a writer playing at being poor. For a time he was very poor. This experience combined with Orwell's unique prose and fiercely (though not perfectly) egalitarian conscience made and makes Down and Out a book with as much insight into poverty and the conditions of poverty as any other I've read. Held against the same issues in modernity, Orwell's relevance has never been more apparent.
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