The power of novels

Personally I believe that most people are influenced far more than they would care to admit by novels, serial stories, films and so forth, and that from this point of view the worst books are often the most important, because they are usually the ones that are read earliest in life. It is probable that many people who would consider themselves extremely sophisticated and “advanced” are actually carrying through life an imaginary background which they acquired in childhood…—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 305

<idle musing>
Well, that's the end of the book. When I picked it up at the library book sale a couple of years ago, I didn't think it would suddenly become so relevant. Would that it weren't! Anyway, not sure what book to tackle next. I'm in the middle of a cognitive linguistics book, but those don't lend themselves well to extracts. And, as with most linguistics books, it's long and slow-going (at least for me).

All that to say, there might be a bit of a pause in postings outside of the regular hymns and Tozer for Tuesday while I finish the linguistics book. Or, I might start something else and let the linguistics book rest for a bit while I digest it some. We'll see.
</idle musing>

Not interested!

But their patriotism has nothing whatever to do with power politics or “ideological” warfare. It is more akin to family loyalty, and actually it gives one a valuable clue to the attitude of ordinary people, especially the huge untouched block of the middle class and the better-off working class. These people are patriotic to the middle of their bones, but they do not feel that what happens in foreign countries is any of their business. When England is in danger they rally to its defense as a matter of course but in between times they are not interested.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 294

<idle musing>
I know he's talking about the British of the 1930s–1940s, but I suspect it transfers to just about any country at anytime. I'm pretty sure it's true of the US right now—which explains why Dear Leader™ can get away with all this garbage right now...

Just an
</idle musing>

Is a half a loaf the same as no loaf? (and other fallacious arguments)

An illusion can become a half-truth, a mask can alter the expression of a face. The familiar arguments to the effect that democracy is “just the same as” or “just as bad as” totalitarianism never take account of this fact. All such arguments boil down to saying that half a loaf is the same as no bread. In England such concepts as justice, liberty, and objective truth are still believed in. They may be illusions, but they are very powerful illusions. The belief in them influences conduct, national life is different because of them. In proof of which,look about you. Where are the rubber truncheons, where is the castor oil? The sword is still in the scabbard, and while it stays there corruption cannot go beyond a certain point.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 261

<idle musing>
Well, I would say that in the US, the "illusions" are losing their appeal to far too many and corruption will soon run (even more) rampant. I'm camping in Habakkuk these days—and not just in chapter 3!
</idle musing>

Power worship

Also, the common people are without definite religions belief, and have been so for centuries. The Anglican Church never had a real hold on them, it was simply the preserve of the landed gentry, and the Nonconforrnist sects only influenced minorities. And yet they have retained a deep tinge of Christian feeling, while almost forgetting the name of Christ. The power-worship which is the new religion of Europe, and which has infected the English intelligentsia, has never touched the common people. They have never caught up with power politics.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 256–57

The Power of Patriotism

One cannot see the modern world as it is unless one recognises the overwhelming strength of patriotism, national loyalty. In certain circumstances it can break down, at certain levels of civilisation it does not exist, but as a positive force there is nothing to set beside it. Christianity and international socialism are as weak as straw in comparison with it. Hitler and Mussolini rose to power in their own countries very largely because they could grasp this fact and their opponents could not.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 252 (emphasis original)

Change of heart, or change of economic system?

They are all people with something to lose, or people who long for a hierarchical society and dread the prospect of a world of free and equal human beings. Behind all the ballyhoo that is talked about “godless” Russia and the “materialism” of the working class lies the simple intention of those with money or privileges to cling to them. Ditto, though it contains a partial truth, with all the talk about the worthlessness of social reconstruction not accompanied by a “change of heart.” The pious ones, from the Pope to the yogis of California, are great on the “change of heart,” much more reassuring from their point of view than a change in the economic system.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 207

<idle musing>
Not a whole lot has changed in eighty years, has it? Except maybe the grabbing has become more extreme and obvious as the ethos of the country has changed to greed and self-centeredness/narcissism.
</idle musing>

They swallow the lie—and get indigestion

With the working class it is the other way about. Too ignorant to see through the trick that is being played on them, they easily swallow the promises of fascism, yet sooner or later they always take up the struggle again. They must do so, because in their own bodies they always discover that the promises of fascism cannot be fulfilled. To win over the working class permanently, the fascists would have to raise the general standard of living, which they are unable and probably unwilling to do. The struggle of the working class is like the growth of a plant, the plant is blind and stupid, but it knows enough to keep pushing upwards towards the light, and it will do this in the face of endless discouragements.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 202

<idle musing>
OK, I don't like his demeaning classist outlook, but he does shine the light on an important truth. The "lower class" may empower their overlords, but when the leaders fail—which they inevitably will, because their real goal is power and money—the "lower class" will rise up and rebel. It might take a generation or two, but they will. Cue reference to Hab 3.
</idle musing>

In it for the long haul

In the long run—it is important to remember that it is only in the long run—the working class remains the most reliable enemy of fascism, simply because the working class stands to gain most by a decent reconstruction of society. Unlike other classes or categories, it can’t be permanently bribed.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 201

The power of literature and stories

Nourished for hundreds of years in a literature in which Right invariably triumphs in the last chapter, we believe half-instinctively that evil always defeats itself in the long run. Pacifism, for instance, is founded largely on this belief. Don’t resist evil, and it will somehow destroy itself. But why should it? What evidence is there that it does? And what instance is there of a modern industrialised state collapsing unless conquered tram the outside by military force?—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 200

<idle musing>
Ah, but he is wrong about a state collapsing without being overrun. The most recent example is the Soviet Union. It dramatically collapsed in 1980. And, we are currently seeing the collapse of the US. So, military force isn't necessary. Economic collapse can happen from within.
</idle musing>

On writing history

I know it is the fashion to say that most of recorded history is lies anyway. I am willing to believe that history is for the most part inaccurate and biased, but what is peculiar to our own age is the abandonment of the idea that history could be truthfully written. In the past people deliberately lied, or they unconsciously coloured what they wrote, or they struggled after the truth, well knowing that they must make many mistakes; but in each case they believed that “the facts” existed and were more or less discoverable. And in practice there was always a considerable body of fact which would have been agreed to by almost everyone.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 199 (emphasis original)

Love is hard work!

In this yogi-ridden age, it is too readily assumed that “non-attachment” is not only better than a full acceptance of earthly life, but that the ordinary man only rejects it because it is too difficult: in other words, that the average human being is a failed saint. It is doubtful whether this is true. Many people genuinely do not wish to be saints, and it is probable that some who achieve or aspire to sainthood have never felt much temptation to be human beings. if one could follow it to its psychological roots, one would, I believe, find that the main motive for “non-attachment” is a desire to escape from the pain of living, and above all from love, which, sexual or non-sexual, is hard work.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 176–77

On overlooking the wrongs of those "on our side" (Orwell)

I have little direct evidence about the atrocities in the Spanish civil war. I know that some were committed by the Republicans, and far more (they are still continuing) by the Fascists. But what impressed me then, and has impressed me ever since, is that atrocities are believed in or disbelieved in solely on grounds of political predilection. Everyone believes in the atrocities of the enemy and disbelieves in those of his own side, without ever bothering to examine the evidence. Recently I drew up a table of atrocities during the period between 1918 and the present; there was never a year when atrocities were not occurring somewhere or other, and there was hardly a single case when the Left and the Right believed in the same stories simultaneously. And stranger yet, at any moment the situation can suddenly reverse itself and yesterday’s proved-to-the-hilt atrocity story can become a ridiculous lie, merely because the political landscape has changed.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 191

Useful?

as Gandhi himself says, “in the end deceivers deceive only themselves”; but at any rate the gentleness with which he was nearly always handled was due partly to the feeling that he was useful. The British Conservatives only became really angry with him. when, as in 1942, he was in effect turning his non-violence against a different conqueror.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 172

Worthless phrases

Political Ianguage—and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists—is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. One cannot change this all in a moment, but one can at least change one’s own habits, and from time to time one can even, if one jeers loudly enough, send some worn-out and useless phrase-some jackboot, Achilles’ heel, hate bed, melting pot, acid test, veritable inferno or other lump of verbal refuse—into the dustbin where it belongs.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 171

Telling it like it is(n't)

When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish squirting out ink. In our age there is no such thing as “keeping out of politics.” All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred and schizophrenia. When the general atmosphere is bad, language must suffer.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 167

Orwell predicts the advent of AI—well, sort of…

As I have tried to show, modern writing at its worst does not consist in picking out words for the sake of their meaning and inventing images in order to make the meaning clearer. It consists in gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by someone else, and making the results presentable by sheer humbug. The attraction of this way of writing is that it is easy. It is easier—even quicker, once you have the habit—to say In my opinion it is not are unjustifiable assumption that than to say I think. if you use readymade phrases, you not only don’t have to hunt about for words; you also don’t have to bother with the rhythms of your sentences, since these phrases are generally so arranged as to be more or less euphonious.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 165

Rules for clear writing

A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: What am I trying to say? What words will express it? What image or idiom will make it clearer? Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And he will probably ask himself two more: Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly? But you are not obliged to go to all this trouble. You can shirk it by simply throwing your mind open and letting the ready-made phrases come crowding in. They will construct your sentences for you-—even think your thoughts for you, to a certain extent-—-and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself. It is at this point that the special connection between politics and the debasement of language becomes clear.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 165

Ecclesiastes—a modern version

I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift , nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, not yet riches to men of understanding, not yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.

Here it is in modern English:

Objective consideration of contemporary phenomena compels the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 163

Heaven forbid that you define it!

The word Fascism has now no meaning except in so far as it signifies “something not desirable.” The words democracy, socialism, freedom, patriotic, realistic, justice, have each of them several different meanings which cannot be reconciled with one another. In the case of a word like democracy, not only is there no agreed definition, but the attempt to make one is resisted from all sides. It is almost universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising it: consequently the defenders of every kind of regime claim that it is a democracy, and fear that they might have to stop using the word if it were tied down to any one meaning. Words of this kind are often used in a consciously dishonest way.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 162

<idle musing>
Not a whole lot has changed in 80 years, has it? Take a look around you. Words are thrown around whose meanings are purposefully obscured. Nebulous things that can be used as weapons against whoever or whatever you deem to be the "enemy"—all the while, the real enemy laughs at the deceit you bought into. Wherever you fall in the political spectrum, if you consider someone an enemy, rethink your self-identification as a Christian!
</idle musing>

More on writing clearly (Orwell)

This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose, and especially of any kind of political writing. As soon as certain topics are raised, the concrete melts into the abstract and no one seems able to think of turns of speech that are not hackneyed: prose consists less and less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning, and more and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house.—George Orwell, A Collection of Essays, 159

<idle musing>
Ain't that the truth!
</idle musing>