Facing Unpleasant Facts: Narrative EssaysEssays by the author of 1984 on topics from “remembrances of working in a bookshop [to] recollections of fighting in the Spanish Civil War” (Publishers Weekly). George Orwell was first and foremost an essayist, producing throughout his life an extraordinary array of short nonfiction that reflected—and illuminated—the fraught times in which he lived. “As soon as he began to write something,” comments George Packer in his foreword, “it was as natural for Orwell to propose, generalize, qualify, argue, judge—in short, to think—as it was for Yeats to versify or Dickens to invent.” Facing Unpleasant Facts charts Orwell’s development as a master of the narrative-essay form and unites such classics as “Shooting an Elephant” with lesser-known journalism and passages from his wartime diary. Whether detailing the horrors of Orwell’s boyhood in an English boarding school or bringing to life the sights, sounds, and smells of the Spanish Civil War, these essays weave together the personal and the political in an unmistakable style that is at once plainspoken and brilliantly complex. “Best known for his late-career classics Animal Farm and 1984, George Orwell—who used his given name, Eric Blair, in the earliest pieces of this collection aimed at the aficionado as well as the general reader—was above all a polemicist of the first rank. Organized chronologically, from 1931 through the late 1940s, these in-your-face writings showcase the power of this literary form.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 53
Page 1
... faces. Overhead the chestnut branches were covered with blossom, and beyond that great woolly clouds floated almost motionless in a clear sky. Littered on the grass, we seemed dingy, urban riff-raff. We defiled the scene, like sardine ...
... faces. Overhead the chestnut branches were covered with blossom, and beyond that great woolly clouds floated almost motionless in a clear sky. Littered on the grass, we seemed dingy, urban riff-raff. We defiled the scene, like sardine ...
Page 2
... faces. But when he came to myself, he looked hard at me, and said: “You are a gentleman?” “I suppose so,” I said. He gave me another long look. “Well, that's bloody bad luck, guv'nor,” he said, “that's bloody bad luck, that is.” And ...
... faces. But when he came to myself, he looked hard at me, and said: “You are a gentleman?” “I suppose so,” I said. He gave me another long look. “Well, that's bloody bad luck, guv'nor,” he said, “that's bloody bad luck, that is.” And ...
Page 4
... faces. I gave one glance at the black scum on top of the water, and decided to go dirty for the day. We hurried into our ... face their existence. After breakfast we had to undress again for the medical inspection, which is a precaution ...
... faces. I gave one glance at the black scum on top of the water, and decided to go dirty for the day. We hurried into our ... face their existence. After breakfast we had to undress again for the medical inspection, which is a precaution ...
Page 6
... face their poverty with blank, resourceless minds. Fixed for ten hours on a comfortless bench, they know no way of occupying themselves, and if they think at all it is to whimper about hard luck and pine for work. They have not the ...
... face their poverty with blank, resourceless minds. Fixed for ten hours on a comfortless bench, they know no way of occupying themselves, and if they think at all it is to whimper about hard luck and pine for work. They have not the ...
Page 15
... face, and at this moment in such a state of agitation over his approaching trial that he could not keep still an instant. He kept pacing up and down the cell like a wild beast, brushing against our knees as we sat on the plank bed, and ...
... face, and at this moment in such a state of agitation over his approaching trial that he could not keep still an instant. He kept pacing up and down the cell like a wild beast, brushing against our knees as we sat on the plank bed, and ...
Contents
1 | |
11 | |
23 | |
29 | |
38 | |
Marrakech | 44 |
My Country Right or Left | 52 |
War time Diary | 59 |
Revenge Is Sour | 184 |
The Case for the Open Fire | 189 |
The Sporting Spirit | 193 |
In Defence of English Cooking | 198 |
A Nice Cup of Tea | 201 |
The Moon Under Water | 205 |
In Front of Your Nose | 209 |
Some Thoughts on the Common Toad | 214 |
England Your England | 109 |
Dear Doktor Goebbels Your British Friends are Feeding Fine | 139 |
Looking Back on the Spanish War | 143 |
As I Please 1 | 167 |
As I Please 2 | 172 |
As I Please 3 | 175 |
As I Please 16 | 180 |
A Good Word for the Vicar of Bray | 219 |
Why I Write | 224 |
How the Poor Die | 232 |
Such Such Were the Joys | 245 |
Notes | 296 |
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Common terms and phrases
actually American army believe bombs bread Britain British Burmese Days cell child Cyprian’s Cyril Connolly Daily Worker doubt early elephant England English essays eyes face fact Fascist feeling fight fire Flip France Fredric Warburg French German hand happened Hitler Homage to Catalonia Home Guard intelligentsia Italian Jews killed kind knew labour later less live London look man’s memory merely Moon Under Water morning Nazis never newspaper night one’s Orwell Orwell’s papers party patriotism perhaps Pétain political prison probably raids remember rifle round Russian Sambo seemed shoot Shooting an Elephant shot side simply soldiers sort Spain Spanish Spanish civil war spike stories talk thing thought tion took Tramp Major turned Vicar of Bray whole words writing