George Orwell: Keep the Aspidistra Flying

I guess most people on here know of Orwell, but for those who don't he was an English-British writer of the first half of the 20th century. Orwell came from a middle class family, went to Eton (where he was taught by Aldous Huxley, author of the other great dystopian novel of the 20th century), spent time working for the colonial authorities in Burma, then became a poverty stricken writer and committed socialist. He is one of the most loveable and admirable literary figures of the 20th century: a man who lived his socialism, working as a miner in the north of England during the Depression, living as a tramp in Paris and London, fighting for the Republicans in the Spanish civil war, refusing to leave England even when the Nazis looked set to invade and so on. Yet, he was never a sanctimonious or bullying leftie- he loved England (even though most on the left hated it) and had the courage to criticise the Soviet Union when other left wing intellectuals were falling over themselves to excuse and justify it.

Keep the Aspidistra Flying is a novel, set in London during the Depression of the 1930s. The central character is Gordon Comstock: an intelligent, 30 year old wanna-be poet with little literary talent whose background is the shabby, genteel English lower middle class. His predicament is recognizable to many of us on here: he loves literature and wants to be left alone to read, write and dream. But money, money, MONEY gets in the way. To his eternal fury he has to earn a living. He once worked in advertising, where he earnt a good income, but felt he was selling his soul. So he quit, ''declared war on money'', got a low paid job in a secondhand bookshop and rented a horrible little room in a boarding house. There are three people in his life: a girlfriend called Rosemary, an upper middle class 'socialist' friend called Ravelston and Gordon's sister Julia (ugly and unmarried). He rails and whignes about his poverty, then gets a poem published and, flushed with money and success, he gets drunk, hits a policeman, loses his job and decides to sink down into the twilight world, to 'drop out' as we'd say today. He gets an even worse job and rents an even worse room in an even worse part of London. There he feels free. In the slums he doesn't have to worry about maintaining respectability or striving for career success. He just drifts in a sort of detached, numb way until his girlfriend announces she is pregnant. She makes it clear to him that he owes her nothing, but he 'surrenders'- the money God has got him after all and he marries and returns to advertising.

Overall, well worth a look. For me it is the weakest of his books (Orwell himself was ashamed of it). Let me get the negatives out of the way first. It is too long and should have been cut by about 50 pages. It sags a bit about a third of the way through and is at times repetitive. The single biggest flaw however is the central character. I accept that you don't have to make your main character likeable, but surely Orwell wants us to sympathise with his struggle? Gordon holds views that most of us would agree with (I hope): he hates the crude, ugly world of advertising, the shallow emptiness of a career persuading people to buy crap they don't need. He feels there is something rotten about modern, urban life and prefers poetry and natural beauty to traffic jams, housing and trashy literature. Why put such sound views into the mouth of this tedious little egotist? Gordon is consumed with self-pity, is whiney and negative, feels little solidarity or sympathy with his fellow bums and treats those in his life appallingly. His girlfriend is lovely: kind, gentle, good-humoured and understanding. But he throws her patience back in her face. He is supposed to be making war on money, yet he talks of nothing else. At one point he even gets drunk and forces himself on her in a filthy alley. His friend Ravelston is the perfect English gentleman and a loyal friend, but again Gordon does nothing but whinge when he is with him and make him feel guilty about his own wealth. Then there is his sister Julia. She is lonely and unwanted, exploited by her boss and wasting away in a dingy flat (Julia is very well drawn and, though she isn't in the novel much, her empty, sad little life moved me much more than Gordon's). But he only visits her when he wants money. When his poem is published instead of repaying her he spends the money in a brothel.

It has many plus points though and many passages to be pondered and re-read. Chapter 3 is worth reading on its own- a funny, perfectly observed depiction of a dull, 'respectable', uninteresting, unhappy family of mediocrities, weaklings and losers who "never did ANYTHING" and even died of boring and uninteresting things. It is also an interesting exploration of the way money, or rather the lack of money, affects things we like to imagine are above income: sex, love, creativity, friendship- even morality. That is the real theme of the book and one that is more than relevant to us today.

A very good review. I had the same feelings about Comstock when I read the book years ago and it must be said that there are facets in his character that can be recognised in Orwell but, although the author's hair-shirt socialism irritates in the opposite manner to which it was intended, he is a very readable if not particularly good novelist. His importance lies in his highlighting the danger that Soviet communism posed and, in this regard, his best work obviously lies in Animal Farm and 1984. If one had to name his finest work, however, it would not be among the novels or the reportage of Down and Out.., Homage to Catalonia, Burmese Days etc., but in his essays that must rank among the finest in the English language.

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Originally Posted by Emil Miller

A very good review. I had the same feelings about Comstock when I read the book years ago and it must be said that there are facets in his character that can be recognised in Orwell but, although the author's hair-shirt socialism irritates in the opposite manner to which it was intended, he is a very readable if not particularly good novelist. His importance lies in his highlighting the danger that Soviet communism posed and, in this regard, his best work obviously lies in Animal Farm and 1984. If one had to name his finest work, however, it would not be among the novels or the reportage of Down and Out.., Homage to Catalonia, Burmese Days etc., but in his essays that must rank among the finest in the English language.

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Yes, I've heard others say this. I think "very readable" is a good way of putting it. There is a solid English decency to Orwell. His prose never sends a shivver through me like Evelyn Waugh's or C S Lewis' does- it's just good. Then again, he never set out to be a great stylist. He was a political animal first and a novelist second; for him the novel was a means of exploring his political interests. I suspect that, even if he'd had it in him to write prose as beautiful as Waugh's, he'd have continued to write as he does. That simple, pared down, lucid style suits his subject matter. His reputation appears to be quite similar to Huxley's i.e a better essayist than novelist (one of the criticism's of Huxley's later stuff is that he, like Orwell, is using the novel as a vehicle for ideas rather than an end in itself, as, say, Lolita is). Actually, looking over his bibliography he wasn't really a novelist at all: I mean apart from 1984 and Aspidistra, all his major works are non-fiction. Even Animal Farm is not really what you'd call a novel. Have you read much of him? Many seem to think Homage to Catalonia was his masterpiece.

You know, C S Lewis thought 1984 was a good novel, but that Animal Farm was far superior- a masterpiece in fact. His reason was that Winston Smith is such a mediocrity: a bland, uninteresting little man, neither good nor bad, that it's hard to care about his fate. Whereas Boxer (?), the great horse, is so noble, brave and loyal that his betrayl and death are felt to be an outrage. That is the problem with Comstock- he's more like Winston than Boxer.

I never found the character dislikeable, perhaps it is more down to the person reading it...

I have almost finished reading this book. I don't think Orwell had anything to be ashamed of with this book - it's a good book. I do not agree that Gordon Comstock has little literary talent. It's just that it is extremely difficult to become a successful poet, or any sort of artist. He does behave like a complete arse, but I suppose that is the point. There is one chapter in particular which I found difficult to read and which stretched my sympathy for him to the limit, but Orwell actually pulls him back from the doing the worst. I suppose the book deals with a problem many of us have to cope with: trying to find something meaningful and worthwhile to do, rather than making money, perhaps doing something that you hate, or that you perceive as useless or even detrimental to society. Nevertheless, making a living is important, especially if you have a family. It's an interesting snapshot of life in mid-30's, urban Britain. It reminds me most of The Road to Wigan Pier.

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Originally Posted by WICKES

Yes, I've heard others say this. I think "very readable" is a good way of putting it. There is a solid English decency to Orwell. His prose never sends a shivver through me like Evelyn Waugh's or C S Lewis' does- it's just good. Then again, he never set out to be a great stylist. He was a political animal first and a novelist second; for him the novel was a means of exploring his political interests. I suspect that, even if he'd had it in him to write prose as beautiful as Waugh's, he'd have continued to write as he does. That simple, pared down, lucid style suits his subject matter. His reputation appears to be quite similar to Huxley's i.e a better essayist than novelist (one of the criticism's of Huxley's later stuff is that he, like Orwell, is using the novel as a vehicle for ideas rather than an end in itself, as, say, Lolita is). Actually, looking over his bibliography he wasn't really a novelist at all: I mean apart from 1984 and Aspidistra, all his major works are non-fiction. Even Animal Farm is not really what you'd call a novel. Have you read much of him? Many seem to think Homage to Catalonia was his masterpiece.

You know, C S Lewis thought 1984 was a good novel, but that Animal Farm was far superior- a masterpiece in fact. His reason was that Winston Smith is such a mediocrity: a bland, uninteresting little man, neither good nor bad, that it's hard to care about his fate. Whereas Boxer (?), the great horse, is so noble, brave and loyal that his betrayl and death are felt to be an outrage. That is the problem with Comstock- he's more like Winston than Boxer.

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Yes I read all of his published work and, whereas his overtly political writing is tinged with preachiness, there are some very amusing moments in the essays that are not often to be found in his other work. The essay about Donald McGill's saucy seaside postcards is really funny as well as being genuine social comment; as is his description of the customers who came into the London bookshop where he once worked. The anthropomorphism used by Orwell in Animal Farm was a very astute move, given the English love of animals, and CS Lewis may well have been right about it being superior to 1984. But, of course, it presupposes a knowledge of the Russian revolution and its subsequent development.

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Originally Posted by kev67

I do not agree that Gordon Comstock has little literary talent. It's just that it is extremely difficult to become a successful poet, or any sort of artist. He does behave like a complete arse, but I suppose that is the point. There is one chapter in particular which I found difficult to read and which stretched my sympathy for him to the limit, but Orwell actually pulls him back from the doing the worst. I suppose the book deals with a problem many of us have to cope with: trying to find something meaningful and worthwhile to do, rather than making money, perhaps doing something that you hate, or that you perceive as useless or even detrimental to society.

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Yes, actually, you are right- it's not that Gordon is talentless (though he's no genius either). I guess Orwell's point is that lack of money even destroys creativity and imagination.

The novel is certainly relevant to us today. I can see why Hitchens wrote a book called 'Why Orwell Matters'. If anything, that longing to find a serious, meaningful creative outlet is even more relevant today than it was in the 1930s. In 1936, lots of people were still living in the countryside, doing the jobs their fathers and grandfathers had done. Or if you were urban working class there was very little room for manouvere, which was comforting in a way. There was no point dreaming of fame and money, so you just made do with the little things in life. Now, the vast majority of the population are like Gordon: sort of vaguely suburban lower middle class, stuck in idiotic, vile office jobs and longing to escape and do something else.

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Originally Posted by Emil Miller

there are some very amusing moments in the essays that are not often to be found in his other work. .

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I remember reading a beautiful description of Dickens- or rather, the image Orwell said formed in his mind when he thought of Dickens

Great review. A film adaptation of this was made with Richard E. Grant (of Withnail and I fame) as Comstock and Helena Bonham Carter as Rosemary. It was quite good to the best of my recollection, though I have always loved Grant. A versatile and brilliant actor.