Essentially this is every art student's dilemma, or at least it was back in my day, to sell out and deal with the Man or be true to our art and starve in an attic. Whether to find one's place within the system or try to forge a unique life outside of it. One thing we had in common was pot plants. An aspidistra in Orwell's case, another kind of pot plant for me.

As the story works itself out Gordon discovers two more things, things we had in common - we were really rather average poets and artists, and the answer to all the problems caused by following one's (mediocre) calling and being permanently broke, was the Man himself, aka Filthy Lucre. After all, there is a limit to how much cash you can borrow and still feel yourself an independent soul. Also, at least for a man, including Gordon much to his chagrin, it's much harder to get laid if you haven't a bean to your name.

So what did we all do? We sold out. Are we happy with our decision and our lives, did we even stay as artists? Probably most of us look back on our youth, well misspent as artists are wont to do, fondly, but are now solid citizens of society. We have morphed into the Man ourselves and don't call it 'selling out' but making a living.

It's not a bad read, amusing in parts, but Gordon is such a tiresome creature and it was all a bit, in a not-too-distant historical sense, been there, done that, grew up.

Not Orwell's best book, but still pretty good.

Rewritten Jan 29, 2017

On picking up the book I thought that the Aspidistra was some sort of iconic revolutionary flag, like the Indian “Tricolour” or the “Stars and Stripes,” but it turned out to be a mundane genus of flowering plants in the family Asparagaceae. Aspidistra elatior is common worldwide as a foliage house plant that is very tolerant of neglect. Species of Aspidistra can also be grown in shade outside, where they are generally hardy to sub-zero temperatures. They are perennial herbaceous plants growing from rhizomes. The leaves are either solitary or are grouped in small "tufts" of two to four. Each leaf has a long stalk (petiole) and a blade with many veins. The flowering stem (scape) is usually very short so that the flowers appear low down among the leaves. The fleshy flowers are bell-, urn- or cup-shaped. Aspidistras can withstand deep shade, neglect, dry soil, hot temperatures and polluted indoor air (from burning coal or natural gas) but are sensitive to bright sunlight. As a popular foliage houseplant, Aspidistra elatior became popular in late Victorian Britain and was so common that it became a "symbol of dull middle-class respectability". In this book, according to the protagonist, it is a symbol of the need of the middle class to maintain respectability


There is no aspect of British life described that I could identify with, yet Orwell’s evocative but simple style is so gripping that one cannot simply put the book down. He is a master word-smith, painting vivid descriptions with his pen.

nA nasty raw wind. There was a threatening note in it as it swept over; the first growl of winter’s anger.

In all bookshops there goes on a savage Darwinian struggle in which the works of living men gravitate to eye-level and the works of dead men go up or down – down to Gehenna up to the throne, but always away from any position where they will be noticed. Down in the bottom shelves the ‘classics’, the extinct monsters of the Victorian age, were quietly rotting.

He almost wanted to laugh at them, they were so feeble, so dead-alive, so unappetising. As though anybody could be tempted by those! Like succubi with pimply backsides.

Of all types of human being, only the artist takes it upon him to say that he ‘cannot’ work.

…the sort of dingy, drabby fornication that you can imagine happening between Egyptian mummies after the museum is closed for the night.

All over the darkish drawing-room, aging, discoloured people sat about in couples, discussing symptoms. Their conversation was like the dripping of stalactite to stalagmite. Drip, drip. ‘How is your lumbago?’ saysa stalactite to stalagmite. “I find my Kruschen Salts are doing me good,’ says stalagmite to stalactite, Drip, drip, drip.

Gordon walked up Malkin Hill, rustling instep-deep through the dry drifted leaves. All down the pavement they were strewn, crinkly and golden, like the rustling flakes of some American breakfast cereal, as though the queen of Brobdingnag had upset her packet of Tru-weet Breakfast Crisps won the hillside.

No rich man ever succeeds in disguising himself as a poor man; for money, like murder, will out.

As a rule a dwarf, when malformed, has a full-sized torso and practically no legs. With Mr Cheeseman it was the other way about. His legs were of normal length, but the top half of his body was so short that his buttocks seemed to sprout almost immediately below his shoulder blades. This gave him, in walking, a resemblance to a pair of scissors.

The books were published by special low-class firms and turned out by wretched hacks at the rate of four a year, as mechanically as sausages and with much less skill.n

Orwell seems to have inspired the lyrics of Roger Waters

n  Yes, the war is coming soon. You can’t doubt it when you see the Bovex ads. The electric drills in our streets presage the tattle of machine guns. Only a little while before the aeroplanes come. Zoom – bang! A few tons of TNT to send our civilisation back to hell where it belongs.n

The protagonist’s constant hostility towards the long-suffering aspidistra is very evident in the narrative. While attempting to escape the clutches of Mammon in his masochistic journey, he repeatedly encounters his botanical nemesis like a persistent totem

n  …his eye fell on the aspidistra in its grass-green pot. It was a peculiarly mangy specimen, It had only seven leaves and never seemed to put forth any new ones. Gordon had a sort of secret feud with the aspidistra. Many a time he had furtively attempted to kill it – starving it of water, grinding hot cigarette-ends against its stem, even mixing salt with its earth. But the beastly things are practically immortal> In almost any circumstances they can preserve a wilting, diseased existence. Gordon stood up and deliberately wiped his kerosiny leaves on the aspidistra leaves.n

His animosity does not decrease with time

n  The aspidistra stood in its pot, dull green, ailing, pathetic in its sickly ugliness. As he sat down, he pulled it towards him and looked at it meditatively. “I’ll beat you yet, you b---,” he whispered to the dusty leaves.

It was an aspidistra. It gave him a bit of a twinge to see it. Even here, in this final refuge! Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? But it was a poor weedy specimen – indeed, it was obviously dying.n

The seemingly immortal shrub responds to a change in the weather

n  The aspidistra, it turned out, had not died after all; the withered leaves had dropped off it, but it was putting forth a couple of dull green shoots near its base.n

The protagonist’s antipathy seemingly gets attenuated

nThey had their standards, their inviolable points of honour. They ‘kept themselves respectable’ – kept the aspidistra flying. Besides, they were alive. They were bound up in the bundle of life. They begot children, which is what the saints and the soul-savers never by any chance do.n

As he yields

n  ’I expect we’ll settle down all right, though. With a house of our own and a pram and an aspidistra.n

Finally, an epiphany dawns

n  The aspidistra is the tree of life, he thought suddenly.n

One small but profound phrase

n  Poverty is spiritual halitosisn

There’s so much more to George Orwell than Animal Farm and 1984.

Un uomo in crisi si licenzia da un lavoro sicuro e si fa assumere come commesso in una libreria. Lui è un poeta e ha pubblicato una raccolta di sue poesie ma senza aver avuto il successo che si aspettava. La sua ossessione è una sola: il denaro. Non fa che pensare a quello: un'ossessione che lo porterà quasi ad impazzire e a perdere la sua ragazza.

George Orwell con questo romanzo (meno conosciuto degli altri) ci mostra il protagonista che vuole sganciarsi dagli ideali imposti dalla società borghese inglese del tempo che era legata ai soldi (forse anche oggi è così?). Quello che colpisce è proprio l'attualità dei temi che vengono affrontati: ancora oggi non si pensa ad altro che ad apparire, a quello che pensano gli altri di noi, ad essere rispettabili e mostrare che si vive bene, non dico nel lusso ma nel benessere. Il protagonista, Gordon, si ribella, quindi qua diventa un antieroe rispetto alla massa consumistica e cieca. Lavorava per un'agenzia pubblicitaria dove inventavano degli spot, delle frasi ad effetto per vendere dei prodotti, ma lui non ha retto più e si è licenziato: non riesce a prendere in giro i consumatori con quelle pubblicità truffaldine, ingannevoli, non accetta che si possa vivere solo per avere sempre più denaro e restando vuoti, superficiali. E avverte un forte senso di solitudine di queste vite che vanno avanti e indietro nella città:

"Chilometri e chilometri di case modeste, solitarie, tutte ad appartamentini e camere in affitto; non focolari, non comunità, ma semplicemente fasci di vite senza senso trascinate da una specie di caos sonnolento in lenta deriva verso la tomba! Vedeva passare uomini come cadaveri deambulanti."

كعادة جورج أورويل متبصر ومتجاوز للزمان و المكان ، فبالرغم ان الرواية تتناول المجتمع البريطاني ثلاثينات القرن الماضي ،تحديدا الطبقة الوسطى باعلاها ووسطها وادناها ،الا ان هذا لا يقف عائق امام عالمية الرواية او تجاوزها لحدود الزمن
اما ان تخدم الهة المال او تتدهور ، لا توجد قاعدة أخرى
عبادة المال عقيدة حتمية لانسان حضارتنا ، لا مفر ، فالقيم اثنين فقط ، الاولى اصنع المال والثانية لا تخسر وظيفتك ، قائمة اهدافك واختياراتك محدودة جدا ، فقط اثنتين ، ان تكون اله للمال او عبد للمال ، الفقر في الطبقة الوسطى هو ليس ابدا مشكلة يومية بقدر ما هو مشكلة اخلاقية ، تلك الحقيقة التى كان جوردون بطل الرواية واعي لها ، الا انه قد اختار الحرية ، رافضا كل الاعيب الحضارة لكي تضع القيد حول عنقه ، ان تربطه بالمال ، رفض ان يكون اله او عبد في عالم التجارة ، اختار ان يعيش ناسك و ان يكفر بعبادة المال ، ان يتدهور حد التلاشي ، صمد لمدة عامين ، الا كما المثل المصري ، ياما في الجراب يا حاوي ، فجراب المال لا تنتهي الاعيبه ، ادرك اخيرا انه ان لم يتراجع الان سيتراجع مستقبلا ، اتخذ قراره و باع روحه ، ووضع قيده ، وعاد الى الحظيرة
سوف يشمر عن ساعديه للعمل ، سيبيع روحه وسيتمسك بوظيفته

La bizzarra sensazione di essere appena diventato adulto

Dopo aver messo il libro in lettura ho chiesto a cinque persone diverse se sapessero che cosa fosse un’aspidistra e nessuna di esse ha saputo rispondermi. Che parola aspra, pare una professione rettilea. Nemmeno io sapevo di che cosa si trattasse e a fine lettura, quando ne ho cercato l’immagine su Google, sono rimasto assai sorpreso



Io questa pianta la conoscevo ma ne ignoravo il nome, ed è vero che quarant’anni fa era assai diffusa anche qui da noi (*1). George Orwell la identifica come simbolo borghese degli anni ’30 del 900. A proposito di quegli anni scrive

Pensano, ancora! Non importa. Ma a che cosa pensano? Ai quattrini, accidenti, ai quattrini pensano! Affitto, conti arretrati, bolletta della luce e del gas, tasse, rette scolastiche, abbonamento ferroviario, scarpe per i bambini. E alla polizza d’assicurazione sulla vita, pensano, e al salario della domestica. E, mio Dio, guai se la moglie dovesse restare incinta un’altra volta!
“Pensano al fitto, ai conti, a gas e luce, Alle rate, alle tasse ed al carbone, Allo stipendio della serva pensano, Alle rette scolastiche, alle scarpe.“

A me ha fatto pensare ad un altro monologo famoso scritto cinquant’anni dopo da un altro scrittore anglofono e probabilmente ispirato da quello Orwelliano

Scegli il mutuo da pagare, la lavatrice, la macchina; scegli di startene seduto su un divano a guardare i giochini alla televisione, a distruggerti il cervello e l’anima, a riempirti la pancia di porcherie che ti avvelenano. Scegli di marcire in un ospizio, cacandoti e pisciandoti sotto, cazzo, per la gioia di quegli stronzi egoisti e fottuti che hai messo al mondo. Scegli la vita.

Orwell chiama Welsh, Welsh chiama Boyle: rispondi Boyle
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8tq4...

Dagli anni trenta del ‘900 agli anni venti del nuovo millennio: vivere integrati nella società che ci ospita ha sempre causato contrasti e nevrosi severe. Orwell racconta di Gordon Comstock, uno scrittore trentenne che ha dichiarato guerra al dio quattrino, che decide di vivere in uno stato di indigenza rinunciando al proprio lavoro di pubblicitario per non sottostare alla spirale che impone di lavorare di più per guadagnare di più ed essere allo stesso tempo sfruttati maggiormente. Gordon è amico di Philip Ravelston il direttore della rivista alterativa “Anticristo”; costui è un personaggio paradigmatico e ricorrente in tutte le forme di protesta sociale: il ricco che si vergogna della propria ricchezza e la usa finanziando la lotta a fianco del povero (altro personaggio paradigmatico) che invidia la diseguaglianza che sta combattendo, che odia il privilegiato ma in segreto adora il privilegio. Gordon viene da una famiglia borghese caduta in disgrazia, lui non ha desideri di rivalsa, si impone invece di rinunciare al superfluo e inizia un percorso di abbruttimento che lo porterà a vivere in una stamberga e a lavorare come commesso in una libreria che vende volumetti a prezzo fisso. In questo quadro ha rilevanza il fatto che Gordon si senta uno scrittore alle prese con il capolavoro che lo rivelerà al mondo intero: “Piaceri londinesi“ e che sia fidanzato con una donna che non gliela dà (a sentir lui perché è privo di quattrini). I quattrini (il traduttore usa sempre questo sinonimo) amati e odiati come le aspidistre sui davanzali delle finestre borghesi, sono il simbolo del capitalismo che Comstock e Ravelston (il marxista) combattono in modo diverso. La parte del romanzo che mi ha divertito di più è stata quella in cui Gordon ricevuto un anticipo di cinquanta dollari da parte di una rivista letteraria californiana e convertiteli in valuta, li sperpera in una sola nottata come non sarebbe riuscito a fare neppure Pinocchio. Il finale del romanzo ricorda un po’ quello scritto da Carlo Collodi, ma ha una sua coerenza. Ora guarderò con occhi diversi un’aspidistra se mai mi capiterà di vederla come mi capitava spesso quando ero piccolo e non sospettavo che i simboli della borghesia fossero penetrati fin dentro casa mia.

(*1)
https://passioneinverde.edagricole.it...

Questo romanzo di Orwell è non dico meno conosciuto, ma forse meno letto e apprezzato rispetto agli altri suoi più acclamati. E’ anche, probabilmente, un po’ più “grezzo” e meno rifinito, essendo tra i primi che scritto. Anzi, se non mi sbaglio, è proprio il primo. Però, fondamentalmente, racconta, come gli altri, una sconfitta, un progressivo cedere, un graduale abbandonare e abbandonarsi che disgrega il sé e porta a confondersi con l’omologato, con il comune sentire e, a un certo punto, a uniformarsi, vuoi per paura, vuoi per sfinimento emotivo.

“Fiorirà l’aspidistra” non è, a ben vedere, molto diverso da “1984”, benché più famigliare e quieto sia il contorno. Se in quest’ultimo la resa veniva ottenuta attraverso la fattiva e quotidiana coercizione fisica e morale, nel primo è, paradossalmente, proprio l’amore a tessere, con infinita dolcezza, una rete che imbriglia e comunque cattura. E, infine, piega.

Il pregio fondamentale di Orwell è, a mio modesto avviso, la capacità di indagare con incredibile acume e intelligenza le infinite pastoie del vivere, le trappole tese che riguardano qualunque aspetto della vita e che, volenti o nolenti, ci fanno deragliare da quella immaginaria e immaginifica linea retta, in costante ascesa, che pensavamo di avere di fronte quando eravamo giovani e ci apprestavamo a iniziare il cammino. Orwell non critica mai apertamente, però ci mostra le cose. Ci indica, sereno e consapevole della sua stessa debolezza di uomo, quanto irto e ingannevole sia il percorso.

Dunque, se perdonerete a “Fiorirà l’aspidistra” una certa ripetitività e una qualche (relativa) rozzezza espressiva e se non siete in cerca di effetti speciali sul tipo di “Mission Impossible”, vi gusterete una narrazione interessante e arguta, che porta a galla molte contraddizioni che ci sono congenite.

Novac je magija, mitski kamen mudraca sposoban da menja realnost, da preobrati običan obrok u raskošnu gozbu, otrcani sako u skupi redengot, stari fijaker u luksuzni automobil, skromni stan u buržujski apartman, neuglednog pojedinca u cenjenog građanina... Ali za razliku od alhemijskih supstanci njemu snagu daju ljudi, nema natprirodni izvor moći, samo čovekovo prihvatanje njega kao takvog mu daje taj transformišući potencijal. Zato Orvel karikira na uvodnoj stranici romana Samo nek aspidistre polete novozavetnu Himnu ljubavi iz Prve poslanice Korinćanima u odu novcu, zamenjujući ljubav sa tom rečju.


Glavni lik, Gordon Komstok, predstavlja nesnađenu osobu, Dona Kihota koji proglašava rat novcu i statusnim simbolima. Živi skromno, odbija da radi bolje plaćene poslove i one u sklopu podsticanja kapitalističkog sistema. Njegov socijalistički pogled na svet ide u ekstrem, ali prema sebi, jer nije više degradacija u pitanju, nego i autodestrukcija, pa ga dovodi u teške psihofizičke situacije i stanja. Ne želi da pravi kompromise i srlja iz neprilike u nepriliku, a od samog dna ga čuvaju ljudi kojima je stalo do njega.

Ovde se pored sukobljavanja materijalističkih i antimaterijalističkih načela pomalja drugo važno pitanje, a to je položaj žene. Iako je kroz roman to sporedna putanja, upada u oči lik Julije, Gordonove sestre, žrtvovane od malih nogu da bi se on mogao školovati, inače uvek spremne da mu pomogne. U nekoliko navrata njega hvata griža savesti zbog njenog položaja i zato što joj mnogo toga duguje, zato što je uvek bio pretpostavljen, a ona sporedna. Julija je oličenje i rezultat zastarelih svetonazora i onog lošeg u odnosu prema ženama od najmanjeg uzrasta.

Slika Engleske iz prve polovine dvadesetog veka sa zloslutnim i preciznim opaskama o predstojećem ratu uneta je u knjigu kroz sitne opservacije protagoniste. Odjek prohujale viktorijanske ere se oseti i preovladava pričom kao poslednji trzaj stare epohe. Orvelov socijalni narativ ima blago komični karakter i pomalo pruža notu optimizma.

According to Gordon Bowker, this is one of the novels Orwell wanted his literary executor to suppress after his death. That’s a clear indication of how Orwell felt about the novel and it’s fair to say that it’s not his strongest work. However, it still has a lot going for it, in particular black humour, sharp satire and a window into Orwell’s own life.

Having recently read Bowker’s biography of Orwell, I particularly appreciated the autobiographical elements of the novel, which otherwise would have been lost on me. The novel is Orwell at his most autobiographical. The main protagonist, Gordon Comstock, has a similar “lower upper middle class” background to Orwell. Like Orwell, Gordon rejects the values of his family and social class, turning against what he describes as “the money-god”. He forsakes a hated “good job” in order to pursue a writing career, just as Orwell gave up a career in the Imperial Police Force in Burma to become a writer. Gordon works in a secondhand bookstore - as did Orwell - and his descent into poverty is based on Orwell’s experiences living among the unemployed and the destitute.

For me, one of the major weaknesses of the work is that Gordon’s rage against middle class values becomes rather tedious (although to be fair, that may have been part of the point Orwell wanted to make). Another is that it’s hard to believe that Gordon’s long-suffering girlfriend, Rosemary, would persist in her devotion to someone so determinedly unattractive. On balance, though, the strengths of the work outweigh the weaknesses. When you get down to it, Orwell’s wonderful prose makes everything he wrote worth reading.

I listened to an audiobook edition narrated by Richard E Grant. His narration could not be faulted and I’d probably listen to him reading the bus timetable.

بعد از قریب به یک دهه از خواندن دو اثر مشهور اورول، کماکان بنظرم همان نویسنده‌ی اورریتد و نه چندان عمیقی است که بود. در ادیشن آخر این کتاب هم یک نقاشی زیبا از بیکن آمده که آن هم کاملا بی‌ارتباط با کتاب بنظر می‌رسد. با این وجود، محتوای این کتاب برایم جالب بود ولی طبعا به آنچه می‌خواستم نرسیدم. یکی دو کتابی هم از اورول هست که باز به لحاظ موضوعی برایم جالب است و احتمالا خواهم خواند و احتمالا هم راضی نخواهم بود.
ولی در کل محوریت پول و آرمان‌گرایی ضد سرمایه‌داری و طاقت آوردن بدون پول همیشه برایم جالب است و این کتاب هم اختصاصا موضوعش همین بود؛ نبردی علیه پول. هرچند که در نهایت به همان نتیجه‌ی قابل پیش‌بینی می‌رسد که همه می‌دانند اما با این همه من این کتاب را به سوسیالیست‌های نو سیبیل و یا هرکسی که در این زمینه کله‌اش بوی قرمه سبزی می‌دهد پیشنهاد می‌کنم.
کوتاه اینکه:
روان بود، ترجمه خوب بود، چندتا جمله‌ی خوب داشت، ایده خوب و پرداخت نه چندان خوب و در کل می‌توان گفت که یک معمولیِ آبرومند بود.

Slowly but surely working my way to Orwell's work and I'm have a mighty splendid time doing so. This book had me LOL several times. I can't wait to continue my author exploration of this genius works.

3.5 stars rounded up
One of Orwell’s earlier novels and one he didn’t really like, as he declined to have it reprinted in his lifetime. There are elements of Orwell’s life in this, rather than his personality. This is a biting satire written and set in the mid-1930s. The satire covers what might be called the “rat-race” and the god of money. It is a bitter demolition of lower middle class values as Orwell perceived them. The prose is great, but it is difficult to read, mainly because of the main protagonist Gordon Comstock, who is really not at all likeable, and very irritating. Orwell does seem in his early work to have the ability to write unsympathetic male characters.
Comstock leaves a good job as an advertising copywriter because of his principles and his desire to make war on the good of money, failing to realise if you are in poverty money becomes much more important. He takes a low paid job in a bookshop and lives in a bedsitting room and struggles to make ends meet. He does have friends. Ravelston is an upper class socialist who publishes a magazine and sometimes publishes Comstock’s rather awful poetry. Ravelston always offers extra support to Comstock in terms of loans, gifts or food, but Comstock’s pride and principles mean he resentfully refuses. There is also Rosemary, Comstock’s girlfriend, whom he treats very badly, feeling resentment towards her as well and not willing to contemplate her paying her own way when they go out. Comstock, despite professing socialism is unable to leave his middle class values behind when it comes to his relationships with women, although he continues to pressurize Rosemary to sleep with him. When he does sell a poem and has a little money he insists on taking his friends out, gets very drunk, assaults Rosemary and gets arrested. He loses his job and ends up in an even lower paid job. The ending is interesting as for me it has a double edge. Is it redemptive? Or is it an indication that there is no escape from the god of money. Orwell writes Comstock’s angst well:
“Before, he had fought against the money code, and yet he had clung to his wretched remnant of decency. But now it was precisely from decency that he wanted to escape. He wanted to go down, deep down, into some world where decency no longer mattered; to cut the strings of his self-respect, to submerge himself—to sink, as Rosemary had said. It was all bound up in his mind with the thought of being under ground. He liked to think of the lost people, the under-ground people: tramps, beggars, criminals, prostitutes… He liked to think that beneath the world of money there is that great sluttish underworld where failure and success have no meaning; a sort of kingdom of ghosts where all are equal. That was where he wished to be, down in the ghost kingdom, below ambition. It comforted him somehow to think of the smoke-dim slums of South London sprawling on and on, a huge graceless wilderness where you could lose yourself forever”
Orwell in real life wrote mostly reportage and this is the best way to read him, the early novels were experiments. Comstock does nothing with his principles and seems apolitical. As Orwell says:
“There will be no revolution in England while there are aspidistras in the windows.”
Comstock is an angry young man before his time, but vents his anger on those that care for him rather than the capitalist system. Orwell also makes the point that poverty is in no way romantic, a point he makes much more eloquently in his reportage. An aspidistra by the way is a hardy, long-lived house plant, much beloved in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century in middle class British homes. Orwell is using it to symbolize a certain middle class set of attitudes. He does the satire very effectively, so effectively and makes Comstock so unlikeable that the novel is difficult to read.

Bu kitap hakkında iki satır yorum yazılacak bir kitap değil. Zamanı gelince uzun uzun yorumumu yazıp, buradaki yazıyı da güncellerim. Şimdilik tek söyleyeceğim: Şu ana kadar okuduğum en iyi George Orwell kitabıydı.