“Why do you write?” must have been a question George Orwell was asked countless times in his short life. Indeed, anyone who has seriously tried to write must ask themselves this now and then. It is usually a stressful, solitary and for the most part thankless task, yet for some the drive is constant and impossible to ignore; it always has been and always will be. As George Orwell said:
“I seemed to be making this descriptive effort almost against my will, under a kind of compulsion from outside.”
In the summer of 1946, the now defunct London literary magazine “Gangrel” decided to ask a selection of writers to explain why they write. Perhaps for the first time George Orwell addressed the question in public, giving as always a frank and honest assessment. He looked back over his whole oeuvre of work so far. The essay has become more significant than he might have supposed, because poignantly, George Orwell was to die less than four years later, at the age of 46.
Why I Write therefore reads as a sort of extremely short autobiography of George Orwell, and why he became a writer. He describes a childhood probably familiar to many, with childish attempts to write poems about a tiger, or other aspects of nature. He remembers one “ghastly” short story, and some comic verse, as well as what he was required to write for school. But what interested me about this part of his life, was his description of carrying on a continuous “story” about himself in his head. He maintained that this was like a rather humdrum running commentary of what he was doing, rather than anything creative.
In part this reminded me of an obsessive relative I knew, who would routinely comment on what she was doing (“Now I’m putting the carrots on to boil” kind of thing), but also, I noted with surprise, of myself. For as long as I can remember, if I have needed to speak to a large group of people, I have gone over and over what I would say in my head beforehand, rehearsing and improving it. Perhaps this is not unusual, but I also tend to prepare whatever I am going to write in my head beforehand too. This includes both formal letters, and also long chatty ones to friends, or journals, and so on. I mentioned this once to my husband, who is a writer, but my own “inner running commentary” baffled him. Obviously then, I haven’t hitherto shared it more widely, anticipating a slightly embarrassed hasty retreat from friends and neighbours. Nowadays, it tends to be my reviews for Goodreads which are written in my head, before they find their way to the keyboard. It does though make me wonder whether many of us have a version of George Orwell’s inner monologue, and if it does not have a routine outlet, whether in some this becomes the irresistible urge to write.
Perhaps it also sometimes stems from a tendency to be introverted. George Orwell tells us that he was a lonely child who would make up stories and hold conversations with imaginary people. His own desire to write seems to be linked to his feeling of being as he says “isolated and undervalued”. During the First World War, when he was still a child, George Orwell had two poems published in the local newspaper, and that was the beginning of his publishing career.
George Orwell concludes that by this, he knew he would be a writer from a very young age. Although he tried to abandon the idea in early adulthood, as many do, he knew it was his true calling and that he would eventually “settle down and write books”. When he was in his twenties, he had ambitions of writing as he says:
“enormous naturalistic novels with unhappy endings, full of detailed descriptions and arresting similes, and also full of purple passages in which words were used partly for the sake of their sound”.
We might dispute that George Orwell ever wrote “purple passages”, but he maintains that his first novel, “Burmese Days” (1934), was this kind of book.
He then goes in to identify what he sees as four chief motives for anyone becoming a writer. The first, he frankly admits, is egoism: the desire to be thought clever, to be talked about when alive and remembered after death—even perhaps to get your own back on anyone who might have snubbed your early efforts and aspirations. Any writer who disputes this, he roundly remarks is talking “humbug”. But then George Orwell always speaks his mind, as in:
“Serious writers, I should say, are on the whole more vain and self-centered than journalists, though less interested in money.”
The second is aesthetic enthusiasm: the perception of beauty in the world around the writer, as well as the beauty of language itself: its words and forms. George Orwell maintains that there are very few examples of writing which are entirely free from these aesthetic considerations.
The third is an historical impulse: a desire to see things as they are, to discover the truth, and present it faithfully as a record for the future.
George Orwell’s fourth reason is perhaps the one which has been the most misunderstood. It is that of political purpose—although he immediately qualifies this statement with the words:
“using the word ‘political’ in the widest possible sense.”
By this time, George Orwell had come to realise that his best writing was when he felt passionately about a particular cause. Earlier in this essay, he had identified the Spanish Civil War as the defining event which had shaped the political slant of his writing. Here he asserts that all writers have a desire to push the world in a certain direction, and to change what people believe about society. He goes further:
“No book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.”
These are very particular and specific assertions. George Orwell’s style is minimal and precise. Earlier in 1946, he had written an essay called “Politics and the English Language” in which he heavily criticised the deliberate use of misleading language in politics. He loathed the skewed language of party politics, and had given many examples of meaningless slogans and bombastic rhetoric. Of any writer, he says:
“His subject-matter will be determined by the age he lives in—at least this is true in tumultuous, revolutionary ages like our own—but before he ever begins to write he will have acquired an emotional attitude from which he will never completely escape.”
By this we can see that although George Orwell identified the Spanish Civil War as his personal breakthrough, it is his moral principles and ethical beliefs which underpin any and all of his political affiliations. Even though he was English, and was not involved in Spanish life and culture, he felt so passionately about individuals’ rights and freedoms that he travelled to Spain to fight for the Republicans against Franco’s Nationalists. Yet he had waited 10 years to write this essay, so this is a carefully considered retrospective opinion, looking back over all his life up to that point.
Indeed, throughout his life, George Orwell went through several different political affiliations. He had worked for the British colonial government in Burma and India, but also for a Communist newspaper. He had once described himself as a “Tory-anarchist”, but more often as a democratic socialist. George Orwell liked to provoke arguments by challenging the status quo, but was also very English in his love of traditional values. His political views were extremely complex, but by the time of this essay he states:
“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.”
At the time of the Spanish Civil War, George Orwell had been strongly influenced by the Trotskyist and anarchist critiques of the Soviet regime, and after Spain by the anarchists’ emphasis on individual freedom. One of the key insights in Why I Write is the link he makes between his own efforts to become a successful writer and the broader political scene at the time. The Spanish Civil War, and the rise of Nazism, fascism, and Stalinism, all gave him a clear sense of what he should write about. He returned from Catalonia a staunch anti-Stalinist, and joined the British Independent Labour Party in June 1938.
By the time of this essay, George Orwell’s conception of socialism was of a traditionally planned economy, alongside democracy. His emphasis on “democracy” places a strong emphasis on civil liberties within a socialist economy. To create memes from the observational gems in this essay, quoting them out of context and superimposing a simplistic idea of his political affiliations, is to travesty what George Orwell was trying to do. Both extremes of political persuasions have adopted his phrases in this essay, to support their own jingoism. George Orwell must be turning in his grave.
The year before this essay, his near-perfect satire, the novel “Animal Farm” had been published, resulting in both critical and commercial literary success. Of it he says:
“Animal Farm was the first book in which I tried, with full consciousness of what I was doing, to fuse political purpose and artistic purpose into one whole. I have not written a novel for seven years, but I hope to write another fairly soon. It is bound to be a failure, every book is a failure, but I do know with some clarity what kind of book I want to write.”.
By now he was seriously ill and desperate to get away from London to the island of Jura, Scotland, in order to start work on it. In the event his words proved to be poignant and ironic, since his next book was to be his final one, the hugely influential masterpiece “Nineteen Eighty-Four”. These two novels, often the only ones readers now remember, exemplify what he claims in this essay:
“What I have most wanted to do … is to make political writing into an art.”
George Orwell, the lonely introverted child, admits that for him personally, the first three motives would naturally far outweigh the fourth; that he felt “forced” into political writing, because of the age he lived in. It is difficult to think of anyone less devious and manipulative in his writing than George Orwell. He deplored the hyperbole of political language, and how all its propaganda debased language, promulgating inaccuracies. With his lucid prose and keen eye, the political world of slippery ethics, pamphleteering and broken promises seems a world away.
Whatever your own political persuasion, it is impossible to deny that George Orwell acted on his underlying principles throughout his life. The political scene helped him to sharpen and hone his own writing. He wrote with a purpose, and describes that as a “political purpose”, but it is clearly very different from how we colloquially use that phrase in the 21st century. The cause, or party may have differed for George Orwell according to the time, country or context, but his sense of injustice remained constant. Remember his words:
“My starting point is always a feeling of partisanship, a sense of injustice. When I sit down to write a book, I do not say to myself, ‘I am going to produce a work of art’. I write it because there is some lie that I want to expose, some fact to which I want to draw attention, and my initial concern is to get a hearing.”
These are not the words a politician would say (or only in rare cases). They are the words of a highly principled, honourable person with an overpowering urge to write. It is surprising that George Orwell is principally known for “political” writing, when his passion is clearly to right wrongs, and tailor his writing to his ethical and social principles. Truth and a sense of justice are essential. After all:
“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 or understand.”
Many who aspire to write will read this essay out of curiosity—and find it really rings a bell for them. The political causes or parties George Orwell joined, or even quite literally fought for, were therefore an outward expression of his inner principles. That is what he means by “political purpose”. His life was cruelly cut short. This essay is typically frank, and forthright, seeming to address each reader personally.
We cannot know how George Orwell would feel had he lived for 40 or so more years, and which political cause he would have embraced. But we can be sure that he would always feel passionately committed to writing with a social or “political” purpose, and would never produce what he called “lifeless” prose.
***
“And the more one is conscious of one’s political bias, the more chance one has of acting politically without sacrificing one’s aesthetic and intellectual integrity.”