Down and Out in Paris and London – George Orwell
This book is about George Orwell’s observations on poverty. The author lived in Paris in 1928 and 1929. This part of the book describes how he struggled for food, his hard time in finding a job, his job as a dishwasher working hours in a hotel in Paris, and the caste system in a hotel. The other part of the book describes his experience living in various spikes in London. The book is not a fiction. Perhaps for this reason, there are no engaging characters in the book. This makes the reading a bit dull. The book is a report of the author’s down and out experiences in Paris and London. The reading is a bit dry, but the author has written a few inspirational passages. I have extracted them below:
Poverty frees them from ordinary standards of behaviour, just as money frees people from work.
You discover the boredom which is inseparable from poverty; the times when you have nothing to do and, being underfed, can interest yourself in nothing.
When you are approaching poverty, you make one discovery which outweighs some of the others. You discover boredom and mean complications and the beginnings of hunger, but you also discover the great redeeming feature of poverty: the fact that it annihilates the future. Within certain limits, it is actually true that the less money you have, the less you worry.
It was a great relief to remember that I had after all one influential friend to fall back on.
Everything else went as badly as possible.
Hunger reduces one to an utterly spineless, brainless condition, more like the after-effects of influenza than anything else. Complete inertia is my chief memory of hunger.
I was horribly disappointed, for I had allowed my belly to expect food, a great mistake when one is hungry.
Fate seemed to be playing a series of extraordinarily unamusing jokes.
Smartness, as it is called, means, in effect, merely that the staff work more and the customers pay more; no one benefits except the proprietor. A slave should be working when he is not sleeping. It does not matter whether his work is needed or not, he must work, because work in itself is good – for salves, at least. It is saver to keep them too busy to think.
To sum up. A plongeur (dishwasher) is a slave, and a wasted slave, doing stupid and largely unnecessary work. He is kept at work, ultimately, because of a vague feeling that he would be dangerous if he had leisure. And educated people, who should be on his side, acquiesce in the process, because they know nothing about him and consequently are afraid of him. I say this of the plongeur because it is his case I have been considering; it would apply equally to numberless other types of worker.
You are past redemption.
Once I did a cartoon of a boa constrictor marked Capital swallowing a rabbit marked Labour.
If you set yourself to it, you can live the same life, rich or poor. You can still keep on with your books and your ideas. You just got to say to yourself, “I’m a free man in here” – he tapped his forehead – “and you’re all right.”
There are three especial evils that need insisting upon. The first is hunger, which is the almost general fate of tramps. The second great evil of a tramp’s life is that he is entirely cut off from contact with women. The other great evil of a tramp’s life is enforced idleness. The problem is how to turn the tramp from a bored, half-alive vagrant into a self-respecting human being. This can only be done by finding him work – not work for the sake of working, but work of which he can enjoy the benefit. The produce of the farm or garden could be used for feeding the tramps. A scheme which fed them decently, and made them produce at least a part of their own food, would be worth trying.
https://youtu.be/R03hRZDpvsc