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OFFICIAL ORWELL ESSAYS TIER LIST
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Some Thoughts on the Common Toad
S TIER
Why I Write
Shooting an Elephant
The Lion and the Unicorn
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My Country Right or Left
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In Defence of English Cooking (love it. This is the essay that made me want to take a proper stab at Orwell in the first place)
How the Poor Die
Such, Such Were the Joys
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A TIER
The Spike
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Boys Weeklies
Charles Dickens
Some Notes on Salvador Dali
In Defence of P.G. Wodehouse
Notes on Nationalism
Books v. Cigarettes
Politics and the English Language
Confessions of a Book Reviewer
Lear, Tolstoy and the Fool
Bookshop Memories
B TIER
Hanging
Marrakech
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Rudyard Kipling
Looking Back on the Spanish War
Raffles and Miss Blandish
Antisemitism in Britain
Good Bad Books
Nonsense Poetry
The Prevention of Literature
Decline of the English Murder
A Good Word for the Vicar of Bray
Writers and Leviathan
Reflections on Gandhi
Arthur Koestler
C TIER
Wells, Hitler and the World State
The Art of Donald McGill
The Sporting Spirit
SSSSSSS+ TIER
Some Thoughts on the Common Toad
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For a few days after getting into the water the toad concentrates on building up his strength by eating small insects. Presently he has swollen to his normal size again, and then he goes through a phase of intense sexiness. All he knows, at least if he is a male toad, is that he wants to get his arms round something, and if you offer him a stick, or even your finger, he will cling to it with surprising strength and take a long time to discover that it is not a female toad.
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There must be some hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of birds living inside the four- mile radius, and it is rather a pleasing thought that none of them pays a halfpenny of rent.
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I have always suspected that if our economic and political problems are ever really solved, life will become simpler instead of more complex, and that the sort of pleasure one gets from finding the first primrose will loom larger than the sort of pleasure one gets from eating an ice to the tune of a Wurlitzer.
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S TIER
Why I Write
Shooting an Elephant
The Lion and the Unicorn
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England is not the jewelled isle of Shakespeare’s much- quoted message, nor is it the inferno depicted by Dr Goebbels. More than either it resembles a family, a rather stuffy Victorian family, with not many black sheep in it but with all its cupboards bursting with skeletons.
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England is perhaps the only great country whose intellectuals are ashamed of their own nationality. In left- wing circles it is always felt that there is something slightly disgraceful in being an Englishman and that it is a duty to snigger at every English institution, from horse racing to suet puddings. It is a strange fact, but it is unquestionably true that almost any English intellectual would feel more ashamed of standing to attention during ‘God save the King’ than of stealing from a poor box.
My Country Right or Left
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I have often laughed to think of the recruiting poster, ‘What did you do in the Great War, daddy?’ (a child is asking this question of its shame-stricken father), and of all the men who must have been lured into the army by just that poster and afterwards despised by their children for not being Conscientious Objectors.
In Defence of English Cooking (love it. This is the essay that made me want to take a proper stab at Orwell in the first place)
How the Poor Die
Such, Such Were the Joys
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For people like me, the ambitious middle class, the examination- passers, only a bleak, laborious kind of success was possible. You clambered upwards on a ladder of scholarships into the Civil Service or the Indian Civil Service, or possibly you became a barrister. And if at any point you ‘slacked’ or ‘went off’ and missed one of the rungs of the ladder, you became ‘a little office boy at forty pounds a year’. But even if you climbed to the highest niche that was open to you, you could still only be an underling, a hanger- on of the people who really counted.
A TIER
The Spike
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His body might be in the spike, but his spirit soared far away, in the pure aether of the middle classes.
Boys Weeklies
Charles Dickens
Some Notes on Salvador Dali
In Defence of P.G. Wodehouse
Notes on Nationalism
Books v. Cigarettes
Politics and the English Language
Confessions of a Book Reviewer
Lear, Tolstoy and the Fool
Bookshop Memories
B TIER
Hanging
Marrakech
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Gazelles are almost the only animals that look good to eat when they are still alive, in fact, one can hardly look at their hindquarters without thinking of mint sauce.
Rudyard Kipling
Looking Back on the Spanish War
Raffles and Miss Blandish
Antisemitism in Britain
Good Bad Books
Nonsense Poetry
The Prevention of Literature
Decline of the English Murder
A Good Word for the Vicar of Bray
Writers and Leviathan
Reflections on Gandhi
Arthur Koestler
C TIER
Wells, Hitler and the World State
The Art of Donald McGill
The Sporting Spirit