It is a mark of Orwell’s talent that this, his first novel—though certainly lacking compared to his later work—would probably be considered a worthy effort by a lesser-known mature writer. I very much enjoyed it. His portrait of the racist, weak-minded, washed-up men who composed the British Empire is perfectly devastating. Indeed, this literary takedown is so witheringly effective that, for me, it made up for the book’s flaws—its somewhat belabored descriptions, for example, or its contrived and melodramatic plot. One can clearly see his genius for using literature to achieve political ends.
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I also want to note a curious phenomenon that occurs whenever I read Orwell. For some reason, I identify with him so strongly that I even identify with his flaws or shortcomings. It is as if I am, myself, writing the book as I read it. This is very odd, since I am, to the best of my knowledge, not particularly similar to him in any relevant way. (He was my height, though.) This strange sensation also overtakes me when I read Bertrand Russell—whom I resemble even less. Can anybody enlighten me on why this might happen, or shall I go and see a doctor?

La primera novela de George Orwell es una obra excelente acerca del colonialismo inglés en Birmania.

La historia transcurre en el pueblo de Kyauktada, donde el submagistrado local, U Po Kyin, urde numerosas intrigas para perjudicar a sus rivales y ascender socialmente en un mundo dominado por los blancos. Su nuevo objetivo es destruir la buena reputación del doctor Veraswami, un hombre honrado y bondadoso que confía ciegamente en los ingleses y los considera superiores en todos los aspectos.

El señor Flory, representante de una empresa maderera, es buen amigo del doctor y miembro de un selecto club social formado exclusivamente por ingleses, de modo que cuenta con la posibilidad de proteger a Veraswami de las maquinaciones de U Po Kyin, pero para lograrlo debe enfrentar la férrea oposición de los demás y proponer al doctor como primer socio nativo del club.

En Kyauktada Flory ha llevado una vida disoluta y decadente, hasta que aparece Elizabeth Lackersteen, una joven inglesa, huérfana y sin fortuna, que se instala con sus tíos a la espera de conseguir un buen partido con el que casarse. Flory se enamora perdidamente de ella, aunque pronto se revela como una muchacha "esnob, estúpida y cruel", que odia a los birmanos tanto como el resto de la comunidad inglesa allí afincada, y que no entiende la amargura con la que Flory sobrelleva su solitaria existencia en ese pueblo de clima sofocante y tradiciones primitivas. Lo cierto es que Flory ya no encaja en ninguna parte; respeta lo suficiente a los nativos para ser considerado por sus compatriotas un vil defensor de los negros a los que ellos desprecian, y tampoco pertenece a la población explotada con la que simpatiza.

La novela describe con detalle las costumbres, la idiosincrasia, el clima y el paisaje birmanos. Habla de la corrupción de las autoridades, del racismo y el sometimiento de la población oprimida por los ingleses. La trama se enreda hasta desembocar en un final amargo, en el que no hay lugar para la esperanza, el cambio ni la redención.

Another great George Orwell novel.

Not quite as good as Coming Up for Air or A Clergyman's Daughter, but definitely better than Keep the Aspidistra Flying.

I really enjoyed it, which is odd considering it is unremittingly bleak throughout.

The book brilliantly evokes colonial life in Burma in the early 20th century and is clearly rooted in George Orwell's personal experience as a policeman in the country.

It must have been very cathartic for George Orwell to write this novel, and get so much of his unease and disgust with colonialism off his chest. That he manages to also tell a powerful love story about a repressed unhappy man who gets involved with a machiavellian Burmese magistrate only adds to the splendour of this book.

Burmanski dani, Orvelova druga knjiga, kao i sve ostale, povlači iskustva iz njegovog života i pažljivo plete priču koja ovoga puta kritikuje englesku kolonijalnu vlast, rasnu netrpeljivost i viševekovno ekspolatisanje resursa i ljudi. Prvobitno je objavljena u SAD, ipak je trebalo hrabrosti pričati o tome u trenutku kada englesko carstvo konačno kreće da se ljulja i polako odumire.

Priča prati Florija, engleskog trgovca drvnom građom u izmišljenom burmanskom mestu Kjauktada. Flori se oseća zarobljeno u sistemu čiji je deo i u čijem održavanju aktivno učestvuje. Ipak, on nije neki čovek od akcije, ne voli sukob, već svoju tugu ublažava velikim količinama džina i jednom Burmankom. Pošto je carstvo pri kraju, engleski klub u Kjauktadi, gde je rasizam u svom punom sjaju, mora da otvori svoja vrata za jednoga Burmanca dok Flori pokušava da izbalansira pokušaj borbe protiv sistema i, na momente, patetičnu ljubav prema engleskinji Elizabeti.

Iako se bavi teškim temama, Burmanski dani i dalje uspeva angažuje čitaoca da se nada da Florijeva borba nije uzaludna i da bolje sutra postoji.

Degenerates about two-thirds of the way through into a maudlin love story-----stopped me cold.

I’m on a bit of a George Orwell kick at the moment. Until a few months ago, my experience of Orwell’s writing was limited to the truly brilliant 1984. I’m not sure why I’d not read anything else he wrote, particularly given that I’ve read 1984 multiple times. In any event, a walking tour in Paris which took in the street where Orwell (then just plain Eric Blair) lived and which is evoked in the first scene in Down and Out in Paris and London led me to read that particular work and now I can’t get enough of his writing.

First published in the United States in 1934 – Orwell’s British publisher Gollanncz having turned it down fearing libel suits - Burmese Days was inspired by Orwell’s time as a member of the Imperial Police in Burma in the 1920s, when Burma was a province of British India. The novel is set in the fictional town of Kyauktada, which is squarely based on Katha, a town located 150 miles north of Mandalay, where Orwell was posted in late 1926*. It's a fierce and articulate indictment of imperialism in general and of the mindset of the British Indian colonisers in particular - equal in passion to EM Forster’s A Passage to India, if rather less so in subtlety.

Orwell’s main character is John Flory, a timber merchant. An outsider in the small British community in Kyauktada, the lonely Flory despises the attitudes and preoccupations of his fellow members of the local “whites only” club, but rarely has the courage to openly speak his mind. His only real friend is Dr Veraswami, the highest ranking “native” official in the town and an ardent supporter of the British Empire, whose downfall is being plotted by the corrupt U Po Kyin. Flory, whose unsightly birthmark symbolises all that isolates him from his fellow colonialists, is torn between loyalty to his friend and the desire to avoid conflict.

In my view, the main weakness of the work is in the omniscient third person narration. At times detached and ironic, it is at other times – particularly in the first part of the novel – indistinguishable from Flory’s (and presumably Orwell’s) voice. While this contributes to the lack of subtlety of the narrative, at least you’re not going to die wondering what the author really thought. And it’s a relatively minor defect in what is otherwise a powerful satire. Orwell’s prose is wonderful and his evocation of time and place is superb. In addition, his characters are memorable. The characterisation of Flory in particular – who is not particularly likeable – is very well-achieved. In his portrayal, there’s a sense of a man who is much better than his surroundings and his lack of personal moral courage allow him to be. Flory’s love interest, Elizabeth, is thoroughly unlikeable. However, even she is still portrayed with sympathy and the reason for her shallowness is understandable.

This is a novel which may particularly appeal to anyone who has had experience of living in a colonial society. As a child, I lived in a place which started out as a French penal colony and which is still effectively under French rule. I remember just how shocking it was to the local whites with whom my parents mixed that they made friends with and socialised with “natives”. This was in the mid-1960s. Things may have changed, but somehow I doubt that they’ve changed very much. The colonial mindset is very hard to shift.

I listened to an audiobook edition narrated by English actor Allan Corduner. He was particularly good with the male voices. However, his voices for the two young female characters left much to be desired. Although they are not sympathetic characters, this doesn’t justify making them sound approximately four times their age.

*According to this article, efforts are currently being made to preserve the house in which Orwell lived in Katha.

A great “anti-imperialist” work. Listening to the audiobook about a decade after I read the paperback, I was struck again by Orwell’s mastery in denouncing the Raj while telling a story that is entertaining and heartbreaking in equal parts. It’s not surprising that with a first novel this good, with his “down and out in London and Paris” years and his volunteer stint in the front lines of the Spanish Civil War, his later novel were great classics.

I think his criticism is super effective for a few reasons. Firstly, Orwell served as a Police Officer in Burma (in the novel he varies between describing things as being typical of India or of Burma) and his descriptions of the setting are magnificent. The fictional town of Kyauktada is based on Kathar, where Orwell lived (there are interesting features about the town here and there ). Secondly, he uses satire and humour instead of railing at the system. There are even a few laugh-aloud moments in the story. Thirdly, though Burmese Days is full of politically incorrect words (“smelly natives” and “gangs of Scots and Jews” come to mind), Orwell seems to have made it a point to avoid stereotyping – the main character, Flory, a white man, loves Burma, while the cunning native U Po Kyin is as far removed from a naïve and manipulated simpleton as anyone could be.

Flory, with all his flaws, is one of the all-time great characters of fiction. The other characters are equally compelling – especially his love-interest, Elizabeth, who learns just the right Hindi phrases for her life in Burma (“idhar aao”, come here, and “jaldi”, quick) and a certain cavalry officer who make a brief appearance in the story.

I can vouch for the fact that club membership remains insanely valued in India, and I have definitely seen the phrase “the steel frame” being used to describe the administrative system of the Raj in a complimentary way. I was shocked to learn rather late in life that the average life expectancy at the time of independence in India was like 33 years (it was 67 in the UK). Given Orwell’s inside view of how much steel there was in the frame, it shouldn’t be surprising. But try telling that to the brown sahibs.

Orwell (his real name was Eric Blair) was justifiably worried about being sued for libel when his book came out. Burmese Days set off the tradition of funny-sad anti-Raj novels written by Brits. Its successors include J.G. Farrell’s wonderful trilogy and William Boyd’s A Good Man in Africa, among books I have read and greatly admired. I still have to read Anthony Burgess’ Malay Trilogy.

The Singapore Grip
The Siege of Krishnapur
Troubles
A Good Man in Africa
The Malayan Trilogy: "Time for a Tiger", "Enemy in the Blanket", "Beds

A solid 3.5.

This was the first novel by Orwell based on his experiences as a policeman in Burma during the 1920s. The characters are all unlikeable and caricatures of English people at that time of colonial imperialism. The native people are also not see in a good light. Only the Indian doctor, Veraswami and Flory’s dog Flo are decent characters in terms of behavior.

Orwell’s anti imperialism comes through clearly. Flory the timber merchant has a love hate relationship with the country. The last 10 years living a life he hates and of drunkenness and debauchery.

All the characters are alienated from society. Flory is trapped amongst people he despises in a remote foreign culture with the Club the centre of their lives. Any views or opinions he has he is unable to voice and so n the alcohol fueled oppressive atmosphere he must stay silent with gritted teeth. This day to day existence makes him depressed and miserable.

Elizabeth then arrives at the town as a penniless English girl who he falls in love. She is also a nasty woman who is trapped with her drunken Uncle and Aunt. She must marry or return to England in poverty. However, Flory is self conscious about a birthmark on his face and the courtship goes awry. His Burmese mistress, the handsome rotten to the core Verall as well as the local Burmese corrupt magistrate U Po Kyin all result in a perhaps inevitable end for Flory and his dog Flo.

A book which is a bitter indictment of the British Empire. The racism, oppression and evils of evil imperialism shine through as well as the helplessness of the oppressors and the oppressed.

What a depressing book. Being an Englishman enforcing British rule in Burma is a dreary, painful, soul-crushing existence. Our 'hero', Mr. Flory is quite dismayed with his lot in life, finding his only pleasure in his chats with an educated Burman named Dr. Veraswami. Unfortunately, a local conniving pulchritudinous evil power-grubbing type, U Po Kyin has it out for Veraswami, and Flory along with him. Flory's lot in life seems to be looking up when young Elizabeth comes to stay with her aunt and uncle, and Flory attempts to woo her, but the machinations of U Po Kyin along with Elizabeth's vapid nature and cruel fate seek to deny him this pleasure. The other secondary characters, other Europeans, are a nasty, racist, horrid lot who revel in the mistreatment of the 'natives' while simultaneously basking in their praise and idolatry of the white men.
It's obvious that Orwell, who spent time in British India, knows his subject and disdains his fellow Europeans. His alter ego, Flory, enjoys the local customs and the richness of the Burmese culture, but is vilified for this by his fellow men as well as Elizabeth. There is little hope for the future of these people or the state of British rule, and the result of reading this book is distaste and revulsion, not for the native men, but for their slavers. Which is probably Orwell's point. One takes little comfort in the fact that these days have past, knowing that this kind of thing is still going on in various countries around the world, but not at the hands of the British. Small favor, that.

I found this book hard work. Not because of George Orwell's style, which is plain and elegant, but because of the repellant cast of characters. The only decent person was the unfortunate doctor.

At the same time, I don't believe that Orwell was exaggerating the awfulness of the people. The book filled me with shame and disgust at the attitudes and moral bankruptcy of the supposedly superior white men and women.

Given their attitudes towards the people of Burma, it was hardly surprising that they also saw nothing wrong with going out and killing birds and animals for no good reason. The description of Flory and Elizabeth's shooting expedition will stay with me for a long time. The only good thing about it was that the people of the village acquired some meat to eat.

So for me, it was a powerful but deeply unpleasant read. But then, you don't come to Orwell for something cosy!

In George Orwell's essay "Why I Write," he says that his first published work of fiction, Burmese Days (1934), is the kind of book that he aspired to write at the age of sixteen when a passage from Milton's Paradise Lost sent "shivers down [his] backbone." Specifically, Orwell says that he wanted to write "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." Well alrighty, then; Go 16-year old Orwell!! I'm not sure that I agree with Orwell's implication that one finds the same kind of descriptions, similes, and "purple passages" in PL to which he aspired; however, I do agree with him in saying that he achieves his teen-aged aspiration in Burmese Days. This isn't the best book I've ever read; it isn't even on my top 10 list, a telltale sign being that I am not gushing on and on about it to whomever will listen like I do with any work by Sebald, but Burmese Days certainly kept me interested and thinking the entire time I was reading it.

Before I get into a discussion of the book itself, let me just say in an aside that one of the nice things about reading Orwell's non-fiction writing in The Collected Essays, Journalism, & Letters (Nonpareil Books – go to www.godine.com for more information or to purchase – comeon, it's an independent publisher – GO!!) from the time he is working on a particular fictional work is that, as I read the result of his efforts, I also am reading about the effort itself. As a writer and as an instructor of English composition, of course, I know that there is no such thing as a perfect first draft or really that any work is really ever finished, for that matter; deadlines are the only thing that really makes a writer stop. Reading through Orwell's correspondence during 1933 and '34, one sees Orwell vacillate between love and hate for this novel—typical of most writers, he is fairly pleased with what he just wrote and hates what he wrote last week. Additionally, any artist trying to get his work out to the public will appreciate Orwell's frustration as he attempts to jump through the various (and namely political) hoops of the publishing world to get his work published (or not published for fear of libel, as was the case with the one British publisher who was the first one to hold Burmese Days only to pass on it).

As for the novel itself, as I was reading Burmese Days, I kept thinking of E. M. Forster's A Passage To India (1924), for Orwell's work takes a similar look at the British attitude towards India during the British Raj. Both Forster and Orwell knew firsthand about the attitude of the English towards the Indians—the way they constantly compared cultures and sneered, covertly and openly, at the natives for allowing themselves to be governed by the Empire while there was also a constant nervousness lest the native culture overtake the Brits in some form. Although it's been years since I read A Passage, I seem to remember the Indian Dr. Aziz as the more developed character than is Dr. Veraswami in Orwell's book, but both characters serve the same function—as evidence of an intelligent man who can see the laudable aspects as well as the imperfections of both cultures as well as of the political situation of colonization. It is because of their intelligence and objective view, however, that both Dr. Aziz and Dr. Veraswami are most at risk of becoming the victim when the two cultures clash.

Another book this brought to mind is one I read the summer before last called The Missionary by Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan), which is set in early seventeenth-century India rather than the early twentieth century setting of Burmese Days. The heroine in The Missionary is much stronger and more likeable than the heroine in either Forster's or Orwell's novel (dare I suggest this may be because a woman wrote The Missionary?). I think the similarities between Orwell and Owenson are not as strong, although again both works examine the aspects of cultural intolerance (with the focus in The Missionary being more on religious intolerance) that are often present with imperial rule. However, I think the reason that I remembered Owenson's book while reading Orwell was because of the futility of the love affairs in both works. Both authors give hints to the reader that the affair is doomed from the beginning. Ultimately, we root for the hero, Flory, to finally win Elizabeth because he wants her more than because we think love will win, for it's difficult to imagine Elizabeth is capable of the kind of love Flory envisions. But what struck me as I read this doomed love affair is how sometimes we fall in love with an image of a person that somehow gets into our heads rather than the real person. Orwell writes this of Flory's thoughts of Elizabeth:

For somehow, he had never been able to talk to her as he longed to talk. To talk, simply to talk! It sounds so little, and how much it is! When you have existed to the brink of middle age in bitter loneliness, among people to whom your true opinion on every subject on earth is blasphemy, the need to talk is the greatest of all needs. Yet with Elizabeth serious talk seemed impossible. It was as though there had been a spell upon them that made all their conversation lapse into banality: gramophone records, dogs, tennis racquets—all that desolating Club-chatter. She seemed not to want to talk of anything but that. He had only to touch upon a subject of any conceivable interest to hear the evasion, the 'I shan't play' , coming into her voice. … Later, no doubt, she would understand him and give him the companionship he needed. Perhaps it was only that he had not won her confidence yet.


I like that passage for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I think this is the way those who justify imperial rule think about the colonial subjects. If only they would see the benefits of being in love with Empire, of having another culture usurp theirs—it would be a match made in heaven—if only …

Of course, politics notwithstanding, each of these books work as a good summer read for the plot and the characters alone. Owenson creates a strong female character at a time when strong female characters were not a matter of course, Orwell creates a great villain in U Po Kyin, or "The Crocodile" as Dr. Veraswami calls him, and with all three books, you get to travel to far away lands without spending a fortune on fuel. Happy Reading and Bon Voyage!

George Orwell spent five years in Burma (now Myanmar) as an imperial policeman. He eventually became disillusioned enough by his experiences to resign from his job. The decision cost him dearly,he would fall on hard times after that.

This book has parallels with E.M.Forster's A Passage to India and seems to be influenced by it. Both books take a look at racial attitudes,an Englisman's friendship with an Indian doctor and feature an English girl who goes off to the colonies to get married and breaks it off.

I first encountered George Orwell with an essay from this book,Shooting an Elephant,back in high school. It lacked context,however.

Years later,I read the whole thing. It is a pessimistic book,it does not have a happy ending. It wasn't an easy book to get published.
It was rejected several times for fear of controversy that it was based on real people,which it seems that it was.

Orwell denounces imperial bigotry,not an easy thing to do in those days. It is not a page turning story. Its significance lies in the boldness of its themes.

It describes the dark side of the British Raj.In the imperial view,"natives were natives,interesting no doubt...but finally an inferior people".