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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
dark
reflective
tense
medium-paced
*slaps cover* this bad boy is a retro hunk of political journalism featuring some sexy descriptions of miners. Vivid, as ever, and really funny.
I love reading Orwell, even if I'm growing out of agreeing with him.
I mean, blah blah blah, loads of prescient mind blowing stuff about the rise of fascism in Europe, quotes which can be applied very aptly to *ahem* certain contemporary political figures:
BUT, the thing that's really on my mind after reading this, is that I thought I detected some queerness in here that I never saw in Orwell before. There are three main really lingering descriptions of beautiful men's bodies that crop up through the book.
What gives me pause is that all three of these lingering descriptions are of men who have less social power than Orwell himself: he describes the bodies of miners, working class British men, and Burmese men. His eye is as much aesthetic as it is political in The Road to Wigan Pier. His argument goes that class disgust is more sensual than theoretical, and as a remedy he presents some vision of the working classes as beautiful.
The sexiness doesn't extend to women, though, the women are just real and heavy and living.
I have zero evidence, but it sure was interesting to re-read George Orwell's repeated vitriol against "beard-wearing juice drinkers", "vegetarians" and "liberal minded ladies in sandals" through a lens of repressed queerness. It's not to say that those things are only things gay people can do, but they do read as queer, both specifically (I know more LGBTQ+ vegans than I can count; and birkenstocks- need I elaborate?) and generally (he singles these out as queer behaviours: odd, effeminate things to do).
After a long discussion in the second half of the book, about how class disgust wasn't founded in real logic but a learned sensual hatred, Orwell finishes filled with much the same sensual hatred, but this time aimed at his oddly-behaving peers. There's no logic to disliking men who drink juice- but Orwell sure wants the reader to know he disapproves of the thing, and he's absolutely not one of them.
For whatever reason, it did read as if there was some intersectionality within the Socialist movement that Orwell wasn't ready to come to terms with.
I love reading Orwell, even if I'm growing out of agreeing with him.
I mean, blah blah blah, loads of prescient mind blowing stuff about the rise of fascism in Europe, quotes which can be applied very aptly to *ahem* certain contemporary political figures:
Experience shows, (vide the careers of Hitler, Napoleon III) that to a political climber it is sometimes an advantage not to be taken too seriously at the beginning of his career.
BUT, the thing that's really on my mind after reading this, is that I thought I detected some queerness in here that I never saw in Orwell before. There are three main really lingering descriptions of beautiful men's bodies that crop up through the book.
They really do look like iron—hammered iron statues—under the smooth coat of coal dust which clings to them from head to foot. It is only when you see miners down the mine and naked that you realise what splendid men they are. Most of them are small (big men are at a disadvantage in that job) but nearly all of them have the most noble bodies; wide shoulders tapering to slender supple waists, and small pronounced buttocks and sinewy thighs, with not an ounce of waste flesh anywhere. In the hotter mines they wear only a pair of thin drawers, clogs and knee-pads; in the hottest mines of all, only the clogs and knee-pads.
What gives me pause is that all three of these lingering descriptions are of men who have less social power than Orwell himself: he describes the bodies of miners, working class British men, and Burmese men. His eye is as much aesthetic as it is political in The Road to Wigan Pier. His argument goes that class disgust is more sensual than theoretical, and as a remedy he presents some vision of the working classes as beautiful.
The sexiness doesn't extend to women, though, the women are just real and heavy and living.
I had time to see everything about her—her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever seen. [...She] understood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul drain-pipe.
I have zero evidence, but it sure was interesting to re-read George Orwell's repeated vitriol against "beard-wearing juice drinkers", "vegetarians" and "liberal minded ladies in sandals" through a lens of repressed queerness. It's not to say that those things are only things gay people can do, but they do read as queer, both specifically (I know more LGBTQ+ vegans than I can count; and birkenstocks- need I elaborate?) and generally (he singles these out as queer behaviours: odd, effeminate things to do).
After a long discussion in the second half of the book, about how class disgust wasn't founded in real logic but a learned sensual hatred, Orwell finishes filled with much the same sensual hatred, but this time aimed at his oddly-behaving peers. There's no logic to disliking men who drink juice- but Orwell sure wants the reader to know he disapproves of the thing, and he's absolutely not one of them.
For whatever reason, it did read as if there was some intersectionality within the Socialist movement that Orwell wasn't ready to come to terms with.
dark
informative
reflective
fast-paced
adventurous
challenging
dark
funny
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
challenging
informative
reflective
medium-paced
What great look into the past and a great analysis of class biasse that still rings today. He also has thoughts on the development of technology that is more relevant today than ever before.
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Incredible book of 2 parts. Starts with an exploration of working class conditions prewar in the north, and ends with a brutal attack on socialists and communists still relevant today. Articulates the failures of our current system and the danger of the rise of fascism.
informative
reflective
slow-paced
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racism
Moderate: Xenophobia
Boek in twee delen. In het eerste deel ontstond er bij toch wat ongemak tijdens het lezen; een relatief welvarende schrijver (zeker niet rijk) die over de aller armste van zijn land schrijft. Ondanks dat er altijd wel een zeker niveau van respect aanwezig was in zijn teksten en hij fantastisch beeldend kan schrijven bleef het vreemd lezen.
Het tweede deel bestond eigenlijk uit een serie van essays over het ‘Brits zijn’, sociale en economische klassen en het Socialisme die ik met heel veel plezier heb gelezen. Deze werkte ook zeer verklarend voor het eerste deel van het boek. Al met al van genoten!
Het tweede deel bestond eigenlijk uit een serie van essays over het ‘Brits zijn’, sociale en economische klassen en het Socialisme die ik met heel veel plezier heb gelezen. Deze werkte ook zeer verklarend voor het eerste deel van het boek. Al met al van genoten!
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced