I loved Orwell’s writing style and how couldn’t you? This book is a reflection of the lives of the poor in both Paris and in London. The first half is set in Paris and, inter alia, it describes life in the kitchens of some of the busiest hotels in Paris and specifically what the role of the plongeur is (basically a dogsbody who does all the worst jobs you can imagine in a restaurant kitchen in a prestigious hotel). In places this came across hugely Zola-esque in that it reminded me of some of the incredibly moving scenes of poverty as experienced by those lost souls working in mines in the north of France in Zola's classic novel "Germinal" which for me is Zola’s best book. At one point the descriptions of life in the hotels were so reminiscent of life in the mines that I made a note on the side of the page and sure enough on the next page Orwell made a direct reference to Zola. Orwell went to experience life as a poor person in both Paris and London although I don’t think all the experiences mentioned in this book are completely autobiographical although I do know that he did experience some of the nightmarish scenarios the book describes. The book then switches to London and this is more of a description of the “Spikes” or other homes where homeless people were allowed to live for tuppence a day. The descriptions of what these homeless tramps had to endure makes you appreciate your warm duvet and the luxury of having a room to yourself. The book also reminded me of the classic Hunger by Knut Hamson. :) Here are some of the interesting points orwell raises:
•tThe way the tramps would bathe in the mornings at these spikes was unreal. Often they would have to share 2 bathtubs between 50 dirty tramps in the morning. They would have 2 slimy roller towels amongst the 50 poor souls. The smell of dirty feet was nauseating and the bath would leave a black residue after the water had been washed out which was disgusting. Half the tramps wouldn’t bathe saying that warm showers weakened your system.
•tOrwell’s vivid writing style was incredible in places: “their scrubby faces split in 2 by enormous yawns. The room stank of ennui”.
•tAt the time that the book was published (1933) there were millions of bugs south of the river but not as many on the north side. The bugs evidentally hadn’t figured out how to cross the river. ;)

Fedele testimone dell'esperienza che Orwell condusse a Parigi e Londra sul finire degli anni venti, quest'opera fornisce un colpo d'occhio straordinario sul complesso mondo della povertà, sulle sue particolarità e contraddizioni, su di un universo che spesso sfiorano con lo sguardo senza saperlo anche cogliere con il cuore. Sarcastico, cinico, bellissimo.

Faithful witness to the experience that Orwell led to Paris and London in the late 1920s, this work provides an extraordinary glimpse into the complex world of poverty, its particularities and contradictions, on a universe that often touches the eye. without even knowing how to grasp it with the heart. Sarcastic, cynical, beautiful.

Maestralno! Ostavio nam je delo o istrazivanju zivota prosjaka, tako fantasticno napisano i to sa dozom distance kao da je usao u telo nekog drugog ljudskog bica kako bi ucestvovao u socijalnom eksperimentu. I kakav suptilni prikaz mentaliteta ( i razlika ) kod Francuza i Engleza. Bas mi se dopada nas prevod naslova knjige, potpuno pogadja sustinu, mnogo mi je bolji nego engleski naziv ( Down and out in Paris and London).

“Boris mi je u jednom pismu dao adresu u ulici Mars belih mantila. U pismu je samo rekao da se “stvari ne odvijaju preterano lose”.”

“Rob, rekao je Markus Katon, mora da radi kad god ne spava. Nije bitno da li je taj rad potreban ili nije, on mora da radi, jer je rad sam po sebi dobar - bar za robove. Ovaj stav i dan-danas vazi, pa je zato i toliko beskorisnog rintanja na svetu.”

“Zvezde su besplatna predstava;nista ne kosta da malo paris oci.”

“Namece se pitanje zasto su prosjaci prezreni? Jer zaista su prezreni, globalno. Mislim da je to samo zato sto ne uspevaju da zarade za pristojan zivot. Nikoga u sustini ne zanima da li je posao koristan ili beskoristan, produktivan ili parazitski, trazi se samo da bude unosan. Sta uopste znaci sve danasnje price o energiji, efikasnosti, drustvenoj korisnosti i ostalom, nego: “Zaradi pare, zaradi ih legalno i zaradi ih mnogo.” Novac je postao vrhunski test vrline. Na tom testu prosjaci padaju, i zato su prezreni.”

“Ali postoje tri posebna zla koja se moraju naglasiti. Prvo zlo je glad, sudbina koju dele gotovo sve skitnice. Drugo veliko zlo zivota skitnice je potpuno odsecenost od kontakta sa zenama. Trece veliko zlo u zivotu skitnice je prinudna dokolica. Zakoni o skitnji su udesili da skitnica, ako ne hoda drumom, cami u celiji, ili pak lezi na zemlji i ceka da se otvori prihvatiliste.”

داستان این کتاب واقعی بود؟
باور نکردنی به نظر میاد!

برای اولین بار توی زندگی م، کتابم چرب شد؛ و الان فکر می کنم که اون لکه ی چربی، با فضای قسمت پاریس کتاب، کاملاً متناسبه. جورج اورول توی این کتاب از مدتی می گه که هیچ پولی نداشته و به پست ترین شغل ها و وضعیت زندگی تن داده تا بالاخره کار درست و حسابی ای پیدا کنه.

مسافرخونه های پر از ساس، لباس هایی که گرو گذاشته، روزهای متوالی که غذا نخورده یا خواب درستی نداشته، هتلی که آشپزخونه ش دستشویی یا آب گرم نداشته، رفقایی که زندگی های عجیب و غریب و طرز فکرهای خاص خودشون رو داشتن...

خیلی عجیب، دردناک، ماجراجویانه و هیجان انگیز بود.

a few days ago, my dad and I had a conversation on what you can call antisemitic and what you can't. we had this conversation when I asked if George Orwell hated Jewish people or not. this question didn't come out of the blue, in less than 20 pages I had already read twice about Jews being disgusting and the worst people in the world, only there to take away from you your money and dignity.

I am Jewish, and I am fucking tired of reading about this. My dad - who isn't Jewish - said I couldn't call GO antisemitic because antisemitism didn't exist back then, which I disagree with, but alright, let's not call GO antisemitic, but this book in particular is. this book is full of hate towards Jewish people. it's full of it, and I can't stand it anymore.

• “A Jew, mon ami, a veritable Jew! And he hasn't even the decency to be ashamed of it.”
• “Have I ever told you, mon ami, that in the old Russian Army it was considered bad form to spit on a Jew? Yes, we thought a Russian officer's spittle was too precious to be wasted on Jews . . .”
• The shopman was a red-haired Jew, an extraordinary disagreeable man, who used to fall into furious rages at the sight of a client. He always preferred to exchange rather than buy, and he had a trick of thrusting some useless article into one's hand and then pretending that one had accepted it. It would have been a pleasure to flatten the Jew's nose, if only one could have afforded it.

I read this right after finishing A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway; both are set in Paris in the 1920s, so I'm eager to compare the two and damn there's a lot to say. I feel like Orwell was much more genuine and really saw the greater scope of events and tried to show "the big through the small". So by showing his experiences in Paris and London he managed to showcase the universal reality of what it's like to be poor and destitute and what the reasons for poverty are.

n  It is a feeling of relief, almost of pleasure, at knowing yourself at last genuinely down and out. You have talked so often of going to the dogs - and well, here are the dogs, and you have reached them, and you can stand it. It takes off a lot fof anxiety.

I am trying to describe the people in our quarter, not for the mere curiosity, but because they are all part of the story. Poverty is what I am writing about, and I had my first contact with poverty in this slum.n

Before getting deeper into the analysis, I need to tell you how funny this book is. I've read some of Orwell's nonfiction but this is by far his most personal account. Usually, Orwell is very stingy with sarcasm and humour, but this time around we were really on the same page.

He met so many different and interesting people in Paris and the comic relief was quite high in most of these encounters. In one scene George talks about Fureux and how he always got stupidly drunk on the weekends and started singing The Marseillaise. Due to his patriotic fever, the other fellows in the bar started to tease him and shout "down with France" to get him all reved up. The whole scene in itself is quite hilarious but then George solves the scene in the funniest way possible by telling the reader that "In the morning he [Fureux] reappeared, quiet and civil, and bought a copy of L'Humanité" (a magazin that is quite left and not patriotic at all). I was hollering!

I really enjoyed that George included snippets of the french language in this because it added a great deal to the atmosphere and made it so easy to picture Paris with its hotels and people in the 1920s. Overall George spoke some great truths in this novel.

He was just so brutally honest about money and I found it admirable. It got me thinking about how much the times (and the currencies) have changed. ;) Some of the realities of the 1920s are impossible to even think about today.

n  Six francs is a shilling, and you can live on a shilling a day in Paris if you know how. But it is a complicated business.

Eighteen hours a day, seven days a week. Such hours, though not usual, are nothing extraordinary in Paris.n

I loved how honest he was about being ashamed of being poor. And how he tried to hide it from the laundress, the hoteliers and basically everybody. He talked about how little he had to eat, that he could only wash himself once a month and was wearing practically the same clothes everyday because he sold the rest of his stuff. It is quite crazy to think about.

Also, the idea that in the 20s a little chamber in a hotel was far cheaper than renting an appartment seems unreal to contemporary readers. He talks about the horrendous experiences he had with the people with whom he had to share his chambers with and how some of them "had the indecency to bring a woman in here, while I was there on the floor. The low animal!" Oh poor George!

Boris, a friend of George's who used to work in a hotel became George's closest companion on their hunt for a job, and he was also one of my favorite people in this account. He was quite a good sport and always remained optimistic throughout their streak of bad luck . Also, his humour was top-notch:

n  'But what about the suitcase?'
'Oh, that? We shall have to abandon it. The miserable thing only cost twenty francs. Besides, one always abandons something in a retreat. Look at Napoleon at the Beresina! He abandoned his whole army.'n

I mean HOW GREAT IS THAT QUOTE. I'm getting serious Oscar Wilde-vibes from it.

The only thing that I wondered about was George's sex life. Yeah, okay, that is a little weird but George seemed to live sex-less. He had no problem with talking about women and when one of his friends got laid but he himself didn't seem to be too interested in that. He was clearly averted to some homesexual approaches that he had to deal with but of a woman? no word.

In his London episode, he talks about the evils of a tramp's life and how the sexless life affects a lot of men who are poor and that they turn to homosexuality and some even rape woman to satisfy their needs. This, of course, is a very backwards and old-fashioned view on life with which I don't agree. I was appalled throughout by George's dislike for homosexuality and his need to find excuses for sexual abuse, but it was interesting nonetheless, to get this first-hand account of the past.

I was also quite shocked to see at how much wine they drank. And that people of their profession (dishwashers etc.) drank wine like water. It quite reminded me of Hemingway and his alcoholism. People at that time were really crazy in some ways.

I also enjoyed his commentary on the quite strict hierarchy existing in a hotel, and how he as a dishwasher was basically on the bottom—people who did the most strenous word, made the least money. He analysed the different forces that come into play in regards to money and power and how it influences society.

At the end of his Paris adventures he dedicates a whole chapter to the "social significance of a plongeur's life". He is brutally honest and speaks freely on how stupid this way of employment is:

n  No doubt hotels and restaurants must exist, but there is no need that they should enslave hundreds of people. [...] Essentially, a 'smart' hotel is a place where a hundred people toil like devils in order that two hundred may pay through the nose for things they do not really want.

Fear of the mob is superstitious fear. It is based on the idea that there is some mysterious, fundamental difference between rich and poor, as though they were two different races, [...] but in reality there is no such difference.

To sum up. A plongeur 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.n

A little fun fact regarding waiters: George says that in some hotels/ restaurants waiters get sooo many tips that they actually pay the patron for their employment and they get paid no wages, they manage to live (quite excessively) off tips. That's crazy to think about!

I won't talk too much about his London adventures because for me, it was all about Paris and the revelations George had there. His London episode was fun to learn about nonetheless. I had this odd realization that poverty (in a way) prevents loneliness. George was never alone at any time. He always found people (strangers basically) who shared his condition and always took him in, tried to make him one of their own. I find that quite fascinating.

I also really appreciated the times in which he compared Paris to London and how he had to accomodate certain aspects of his destitute life:

n  In Paris, if you had no money and could not find a public bench, you would sit on the pavement. Heaven knows what sitting on the pavement would lead to in London - prison, probably.

I suppose they were 'nancy boys'. They looked the same type as the apache boys one sees in Paris.n

One of the most interesting London chapter was the one in which he talked about beggars and why people hate them and don't think it's a real job.

n  It is taken for granted that a beggar does not 'earn' his living, as a bricklayer or a literary critic 'earns' his. [...] If one could earn even ten pounds a week at begging, it would become a respectable profession immediately.n

A chapter I found very charming and in which I could highly relate to George was the chapter in which he basically made a glossary of London slang, defining the words he wasn't familiar with before. It is just such a George Orwell thing to do and I loved it.

n  My story ends here. It is a fairly trivial story, and I can only hope that it has been interesting in the same way as a travel diary is interesting. [...] At present I do not feel that I have seen more than the fringe of poverty. [...] I shall never again think that all tramps are drunken scoundrels, nor expect a beggar to be grateful when I give him a penny, nor be surprised if men out of work lack energy, nor subscribe to the Salvation Army, nor pawn my clothes, nor refuse a handbill, nor enjoy a meal at a smart restaurant. That is a beginning.n

It is, George, it is. Down and Out in Paris and London is by far my favorite piece of nonfiction by Orwell. It's rich in social commentary and criticism and I'd highly recommend it to everyone looking for a raw and honest account of poverty in Europe's capitals in the 1920s.

کتاب آس و پاس ها در پاریس و لندن ، روایت بسیار ساده ای ایست از زندگی افرادی بی سر پناه و طبیعتا بدون پول و بی کار ، افرادی که از جامعه طرد
شده و دولت هم بدون هیچ گونه حمایتی آنها را رها کرده است.
در این کتاب با افرادی طرف هستیم که کل دارایی آنها معمولا در جیب لباس آنهاست ، افرادی که روز مره زندگی می کنند ، به مدد دولت و سیاستهای احمقانه اش عملا هیچ هدفی به غیر از سیر شدن و بستری برای خواب ندارند ، افرادی که روزگار معنای زندگی را از آنها گرفته و آنها را پوچ و بی هدف به امان خود رها کرده .
مهمترین ویژگی کتاب موفقیت کامل نویسنده در مجسم ساختن زندگی روزمره این افراد بوده ، امری که توسط مترجم کتاب ، جناب آقای دارالشفایی با چیرگ ومهارت به مخاطب انتقال پیدا کرده ، به گونه ای که خواننده کتاب هم همراه و هم گام قهرمانان کتاب پیاده روی و یا ولگردی می کند و آن زمانی هم که آنها غذایی می خورند و به جایی برای خواب پناه می برند ، او هم نفسی به آرامش می کشد و از اینکه روزی دیگر برای آنها بدون فاجعه ای سپری شد احساس رضایت می کند .
در پایان کتاب آس و پاس ها نوشته جناب اورول ، اثری ایست ساده و دوست داشتنی که خواننده را با مصیبت زندگی قشرخیابانگرد جامعه اندکی آشنا می کند .

Orwell's first published work, giving a slightly fictionalised account of his experiences of poverty in Paris and London.

His time in London is made into an extraordinary and vital social document, preserving and bearing witness to the painful and shocking history of the tramps. I never realised that these men and women were so called because they were forced by the law that prevented them from staying in one place for more than one night to walk from town to town every day, with the reward of a meagre meal of buttered bread and tea and a comfortless dorm if they were lucky. Orwell derides this senseless expenditure of effort, suggesting work that tramps could do instead.

The young man's horror at the waste, boredom and uselessness of poverty is captivatingly illustrated by this tense, sparely written account of his struggles for food and shelter in two of the great cities of the world, celebrated elsewhere for their cultural wealth, beauty, style and romantic ambience. I was astonished by the weird, inhuman travails to which the poor of both cities were put, and by the extremities of filth and degradation that so disgusted Orwell.

.."یک آدم تحصیل‌کرده فکر می‌کند بدیل اوضاع کنونی یک آرمان‌شهر تیره و تار مارکسیستی است، و بنابراین ترجیح می‌دهد اوضاع همین‌طور که هست بماند."...

Poverty is no a sin. Honest work is nothing to be ashamed of. Obviously. Let’s agree to disagree - Orwell seems to say.

In this part-autobiographical story he depicts how life looked like in Parisian slums and London poorhouses in late twenties XX century. In Paris Orwell used to live in rented rooms, dirty and buggy hovels, for over one year. He had earned some money giving English lessons and writing to the local newspapers but when the money had run out he needed to find a work. And it was then when he first experienced poverty, discovered how it is to be hungry, eating only bread with margarine. All of sudden he couldn’t afford on sending clothes to laundry, had to cut off his smoking , was even forced to pawning his overcoats in the pawn shop and so on, so on. Paris in that days was a place full of refugees from all the world, especially Russia. And here on the scene enters Boris, one of the closest Orwell’s friend in this time. His parents got killed in the Revolution, his passion are war and soldiers. Boris likes one café because of the statue of Napoleon’s marshal standing nearby and is ready get out metro at Cambronne station instead of Commerce, though Commerce was nearer; he liked the association with General Cambronne, who was called on to surrender at Waterloo, and answered simply, 'merde. Yes, Boris is not an ordinary man. Definitely. And he has a dream to become a maitre d’hotel one day.

So that our protagonists find employment in the hotel and Orwell is starting to work as a plongeur. According to him it was humiliating, grueling and completely useless job, a kind of contemporary slavery. The kitchen was like nothing I had ever seen or imagined-a stifling, low-ceilinged inferno of a cellar, red-lit from the fires, and deafening with oaths and the clanging of pots and pans. We can see them, people working as plonguers, spending all days in hot undergrounds, working and swearing each others, then returning homes, and in spare time drinking themselves up. And so day after day, year after year. As if they came down from Chaim Soutine’s portraits – that‘s how I see them. The work is weary, they get paid to stay them alive, no dreams, no prospects. But there were bright sides too. Food they were given to was really lousy but nobody seemed to care about it. PATRON was not mean about drink; he allowed us two litres of wine a day each, knowing that if a PLONGEUR is not given two litres he will steal three. Orwell really feels sympathy for all that poor wretches, points out the ways to ease their plight but provoked beyond endurance decides back to England.

But before he will do it let’s hear Boris once again. Tomorrow we shall find something, mon ami, we both have brains-a man with brains can't starve. Despite all that crap and misery Boris seems to be an incurable optimist. When he must slip away unseen and leave his suitcase states lightly one always abandons something in a retreat. Look at Napoleon at the Beresina!He abandoned his whole army. Just brilliant. I smieszno i straszno as our Russian friends would say.

When Orwell arrived in London where he was to look after one disabled man it found out that his new employers have gone abroad and he must manage on his own for one month. So that begins odyssey from one poorhouse to other, from one lodging-house to other. A wide range of that ones. We sleep with him in all that dirty and stinky places, experience doubtful and reluctant charity and meet all bunch of social outcasts – his companions in misery. One of them is Bozo who’s considering himself as a free man with or without money, and being forced to sell his razor only states Sold my razor without having a shave first: Of all the-fools!. Another time we are the witnesses a fight between two tramps because one said bullshit while the other heard bolshevik. I can’t help but personally really like that pun.

So what’s the point? Look around, Orwell seems to tell us, there’s always something you can improve, someone who needs help. I shall never again think that all tramps are drunken scoundrels, nor expect a beggar to be grateful when I give him a penny, nor subscribe to the Salvation Army, nor pawn my clothes, nor refuse a handbill, nor enjoy a meal at a smart restaurant. That is a beginning.
And how about you ?

Quite a harrowing book,with its depiction of stark poverty,menial work and the constant struggle for the basic necessities of life .

I found it hard to read,but it was very moving as well. Orwell also did a similar job in another book,The Road to Wigan Pier. That too,was very bleak and compassionate.

Orwell knew about hardship.He had given up his job in the imperial police,and things were not too bright for him financially. He actually became a dishwasher for a while. He lived that life,he could talk about it with authenticity.

It's been some years since I read it,it stays in memory.But I'd find it difficult to read again,it's too raw and realistic.

ياإلهي أي نوعية من البشر تسطيع أن تكتب عن البؤس بهذه الخفة ؟ رأسي كان يركض في كل الإتجاهات دماغي تحول إلى فرن .

حسنًا لم أفكر بهذه الرواية أبدًا , ولم تكن في هاجسي .
حينما كتب فيصل الرويس " أعرف واحد:أول رواية نصح زوجته بقرأتها كانت "متشرداً في باريس ولندن" لجورج أورويل . وبعد تسع سنوات مازال يشعر بالندم على ذلك. ‎:) "
لم أطق أن أنتظر أكثر لأعرف مالذي يدفع رجلًا بأن يندم تسع سنوات لأنه فقط نصح زوجته برواية ؟

لك أن تهديه لصاحبك الذي ضجرت منه لأنه لايكف عن المفاخرة في المطاعم الفاخرة التي يقصدها . ولي أن أجد مواساتي بالتفكير فيها حينما أكون منهمكة .
أنصحك أنا كذلك أن تنصح بها عشيقتك أو صديقتك التي تبعد عنها ولاتسكن معها , لكن لاأعتقد أنها مناسبة لزوجتك .

تعبه وهذه الرواية هي المسؤولة . ربما حينما أستيقظ أكتب جيدًا عنها .