On Demons and Corruption: Why I Write by George Orwell

George Orwell’s Why I Write, is a collection of four essays.

The first essay, “Why I Write,” is about Orwell’s background and his reasons for writing, those that first inspired him and those that kept him motivated to continue as he developed. Orwell argues there are four reasons why a person becomes a writer: 1) Sheer egoism; 2) aesthetic enthusiasm; 3) historical impulse; and 4) political purpose. He notes that most writers have more than one reason and they may at times change their purposes depending on circumstance. He also makes the crucial point that is so necessary in the United States today, which is, “no book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude” (5). How many times have we heard people on social media telling artists, athletes, and whomever, to “stay in their lane” and “leave politics out of it.” We all know that’s a farcical argument and an impossibility.

I also appreciate that Orwell makes his own purpose in writing quite clear: “Every line of serious work that I have written since 1936 has been written, directly or indirectly, against totalitarianism and for democratic Socialism, as I understand it” (8). Imagine a popular writer in the U.S. coming out today to describe themselves and their writing as democratic Socialism.

A final favorite bit comes near the end of the essay, where Orwell writes, “all writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand” (10). Were truer words ever spoken!?

The second essay, “The Lion and the Unicorn: Socialism and the English Genius,” is a three-part polemic on World War II, the dangerous appeal of Fascism, and what it would take to get the English people to rally in defense of their nation, in defense of democracy, and in support of those nations that had already been occupied by the German army.

In Part 1: “England Your England,” Orwell writes about patriotism and the falsehood that all people everywhere are the same. He tries to define what it is to be English as opposed to European or American. He writes about the misguided trust English people place in “the law,” the distinctions between classes, and the fact that English pride is a funny sort, where the English tend to remember their tragedies and losses more than their triumphs. He also writes about the concentration of property and wealth, and how these invite fascism by causing the powerful few to look to political solutions that might protect their station (superiority). It’s a stunningly contemporary view, if one compares it to the situation in the United States right now, and terrifying for its lingering accuracy.

In Part 2: “Shopkeepers at War,” Orwell writes, “what this war demonstrated is that capitalism—that is, an economic system in which land, factories, mines and transport are owned privately and operated solely for profit—does not work. It cannot deliver the goods.” Having laid out why England is susceptible to a fascist movement in Part 1, he here makes the case for democratic socialism as patriotism and as the only rational option. His argument is that if you are the state, and the state owns everything, then you are the owner. He provides other examples of those who might be unconvinced, who might think their plight is so poor in England that they “should be no worse under Hitler,” and then rebuts these with actual comparative examples of what worse looks like, what freedom looks like, and etc.

In Part 3: “The English Revolution,” Orwell explains that the war to save Europe from fascism must also result in an English revolution, a change of system entirely, if England is going to continue. Orwell again lays out all the dangers of the nation sticking its head in the sand, then ends on a note of optimism, that he believes English people are progressive by nature and that they will push the system forward. That the nation will persist. He provides five strategies to make this happen, through democratic socialism, and explains each briefly.

The third essay in the collection is “The Hanging,” which recounts an event Orwell witnessed in Burma. A prisoner is hanged, and Orwell expertly details the mood before, during, and after the event. It’s a short, chilling expose about humanity and the absurdities we will accept as normal or good.

Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.

George Orwell, “Politics and the English Language”

The final essay is one of my favorites, and one which I’ve assigned to my students many times: “Politics and the English Language.” At first glance, based on the title and first few paragraphs, where Orwell provides examples of “bad” writing,” one might expect this to be an essay about “proper” grammar and punctuation, but it turns out to be a thoughtful look at the way language and thought are connected. It’s an argument for writing well, but not the way we might normally think of this. Instead of focusing on spelling and punctuation, Orwell suggests we think in terms of brevity and precision. Say only what we really mean, and as directly as possible. Don’t convolute. Don’t overcomplicate. Don’t be vague amidst abstractions. He provides questions for writers to ask themselves as they’re reviewing their work: 1) What am I trying to say? 2) What words will express it? 3) What image or idiom will make it clearer? 4) Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And if the writer can resolve these, they might ask themselves two more: 5) Could I put it more shortly? 6) Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly?

He returns, in this essay, to the idea of politics, and reminds us that everything is political. Thought and language (and actions) are political. So, we must be careful in our writing to express exactly what we mean, no more and no less, to avoid corruption. Corrupt language, he notes, can cause corrupt thought. The examples he gives will ring alarmingly true today.

Why I Write is book 7 completed for my 2023 TBR Pile Challenge.

14 Comments on “On Demons and Corruption: Why I Write by George Orwell

  1. I am part of a group of former law clerks who have been meeting monthly for the last several years for a quasi-book discussion with our Judge who is 90. If it is too long, people don’t make it so we have been reading short stories mostly (although I did get a core group to read Rebecca last fall) but it sounds like any of these essays would be a good choice. I will get this from the library and consider. It seems like every lawyer thinks he or she has a novel waiting to burst forth.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I think lawyers might appreciate what Orwell has to say about the power of language!

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  2. There’s a quote by Hermann Göring (yes, that one) in an interview in his cell that I think might fit into what is a way to look at current situations as well as your description of the second essay:

    “Why, of course, the people don’t want war. Why would some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best that he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece? Naturally, the common people don’t want war; neither in Russia nor in England nor in America, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy or a fascist dictatorship or a Parliament or a Communist dictatorship.
    […]
    [T]he people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same way in any country.”

    These tactics, so to say, can be used to both fight and, unfortunately, create the very same problem, though it is vital to be aware of the abundantly used ones around oneself.
    It might be a good time as any to re-read Orwell’s works I feel…

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  3. 1. You have impossibly made me love him more.
    2. I need to figure out how to get back in a classroom with you. 🙂
    (I logged in via wordpress, didn’t remember my user name was Joz, which you ma not know. Signing, Susan Joslyn.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Well, of course! Good to hear from you. I’m on sabbatical in the fall. In the spring, I think my only lit class is Southeast Asian lit, and I will probably be teaching the English degree capstone again (that’s classified as an independent study.)

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  7. I don’t know when I’ve last read an essay, but these sound like they may be of interest. (Although perhaps disheartening at times.) Added to the list!

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