A Life in Letters

by George Orwell

  5 July 1938

  New Hostel

  Preston Hall

  Aylesford, Kent

  Dear Jack,

  You know I have to go abroad for the winter, probably for about 6 months starting about end of August. Well, would you like to have our cottage rent free & in return look after the animals? I'll tell you all the facts & you can work out the pros & cons for yourself.

  i. The doctors say I must live somewhere further south. That means giving up the cottage when we come back at latest. But I don't want to scrap the livestock, because we have now worked the flock of fowls up to about 30, which can be worked up to about 100 next year, & it would also mean selling the henhouses, which cost a lot but which you don't get much for if you sell them. We have therefore the choice of getting someone to inhabit the cottage, or of paying someone to look after the animals, which plus storage of furniture works out at about the same expense as keeping on the rent of the cottage.

  ii. You know what our cottage is like. It's bloody awful. Still it's more or less livable. There is one room with a double bed & one with a single, & I fancy there is enough linen etc. to do for 2 people & a kid. When there is sudden rain in winter the kitchen tends to flood, otherwise the house is passably dry. The living room fire, you may remember, smokes, but I think the chimney will have been seen to before we leave--anyway it doesn't need anything very drastic doing to it. There is water laid on, but no hot, of course. There is a Calor Gas stove, which is expensive (the gas, I mean), but there is also a little oil oven that can be resuscitated. As to produce, there won't be many vegetables, as of course Eileen alone couldn't cope with all of the garden, but at any rate there will be potatoes enough to see you through the winter. There'll also be milk, about a quart a day, as the goat has just kidded. A lot of people are prejudiced against goats' milk but really it's no different from cow & is said to be good for kids.

  iii. As to the looking after animals. This means feeding etc. about 30 fowls & feeding & milking the goats. I'll leave careful instructions about food etc. & arrange for the corn merchant to deliver supplies & send the bill on to me. You could also sell the eggs (the butcher who calls twice a week buys any quantity) & put the money aside for us. There won't be many eggs at first, as most of the birds are young pullets hatched this year, but by early spring they should be laying about 100 a week.

  Let me know would you whether you would like to take this on. It would suit us, & for you at any rate I dare say it would be a quiet place to work in.1

  All the best to Mary & Peter.

  Yours

  Eric Blair

  [XI, 461, p. 171; handwritten]

  1.They did take the cottage

  From Morocco to the BBC

  1938 - 1941

  It was thought that the climate of North Africa would be beneficial for Orwell's health. That, however, was chiefly illusory although the relative rest probably helped him. He still managed to grow a few vegetables and keep one or two hens and goats. His time in Morocco was plagued by anxiety that he had borrowed more than he could easily repay although, unbeknownst to him, the novelist L.H. Myers had advanced the cost, PS300, as a gift. Orwell harped on this 'debt' on many occasions and eventually repaid what he thought he owed to an intermediary, Dorothy Plowman.

  Whilst in Morocco, the Orwells spent a few days in the Atlas Mountains and he wrote Coming Up for Air, the typescript of which he delivered to Leonard Moore, his agent, for Gollancz immediately on his return to England on 30 March 1939. On 28 June 1939, Orwell's father died of cancer and Orwell wrote movingly about wandering the seafront at Southwold pondering what to do with the pennies that had weighted down his father's eyes at his death. He eventually threw them into the sea.

  The outbreak of war on 3 September 1939 began a period of great frustration for him. He could obtain no work to advance the Allied cause and was far too unfit for the Army. Eileen was engaged at first in (ironically) a Whitehall Censorship Office. Even more ironic was that later one of her notebooks used to record censored mail was used by Orwell to record his earnings so that he could declare them to the Inland Revenue. He reviewed books, plays and films and in May 1940, after Dunkirk, he joined what would become the Home Guard, serving actively as a Sergeant. The photograph included in this volume of Orwell with the Home Guard shows the composition of his section. On the right is his publisher, Fredric Warburg. He had served as a lieutenant at Passchendaele. Other's in Orwell's section included two wholesale grocers, the owner of a large garage and his son, a Selfridge's van-driver, Denzil Jacobs (a chartered accountant who later served as an RAF navigator) and his father, both of whom visited Orwell in University College Hospital in 1949. Denzil Jacobs told the editor that to Orwell, 'commitment was everything'.

  Orwell's The Lion and the Unicorn was published on 19 February 1941. He made a few broadcasts for the BBC including four for its Overseas Service. Then, on 18 August 1941, he was appointed a Talks Assistant in the BBC Overseas Service at PS640 per annum. After attending a short training course (called rather unfairly 'The Liars' School' - it was, in fact, very straightforward and practical), he began two years of hard, intensive work. Although he would come to regard these as 'two wasted years', they were, in fact, more valuable than he realised. By now, Eileen had moved from the soul-destroying Censorship Department to more enjoyable work in the Ministry of Food, working on such programmes as 'The Kitchen Front', advising the population on how to make the most and best of such food as was available at a time of severe rationing.

  From Orwell's letter to his mother, 25 February 1912

  Eileen* to Orwell's mother, Ida*

  15 September 1938

  Majestic Hotel

  Marrakech

  Dearest Mrs Blair,

  I think Eric sent postcards today, explaining that I'd been 'upset' as he says. We could both be said to have been upset, partly I expect by the climate & partly by the horror we conceived for this country. My additional achievement was some kind of fever, possibly from food poisoning but more probably from mosquitoes--Eric has eaten the same things but hasn't been bitten to any extent whereas I look as though I were made of brioches.

  The journey until we left Tangier was so pleasant that we were spoilt. It's true that we went to Gib by mistake & then got held up at Tangier because the boats to Casablanca were full, but Gib was quite interesting & Tangier enchanting. Eric's stuff for seasickness worked even on the crossing from Gib. to Tangier, which was rough (he walked round the boat with a seraphic smile watching people being sick & insisted on my going into the 'Ladies' Cabin' to report on the disasters there), & the Continental Hotel in Tangier was very good indeed. If we could have come here by sea as we intended we should probably like Morocco better but we had to come by train which meant having breakfast at 5 a.m., going through endless agonies to satisfy police & customs authorities of all nations before getting into the train at all & then having more police & customs interrogations a) before the train left the International Zone, b) before entering the Spanish zone & c) before entering the French zone. The Spaniards were very pleasant & careless which was as well because at the last minute a man came round & collected the French newspapers that most people had & that were not allowed in Spanish territory. We had in our suitcases a collection of about 20 newspapers, Fascist & antiFascist. The French were in character, absolutely refusing to believe that we were not coming to Morocco to break the law. However, they agreed to let the Morocco police do the arresting & we got as far as the junction where we were to change into a train with a restaurant car. By this time it should have been 11 a.m. & was 11.45. Everyone fled across the station surrounded by hordes of Arab porters, aged 10-70, & the train started before we were well in it. Our junior porter, who was about 3' 6 '', had not unnaturally put the two cases he was carrying down on the platform so that he could catch us to get his tip (he said they were in the dining-car), but to establish this took us hours & to get the cases at Casablanca took two days. Then we came to Marrakech, again
leaving at 7 a.m., & went to the Hotel Continental which had been recommended to us & which may have been quite good once. Lately it has changed hands & is obviously a brothel. I haven't much direct knowledge of brothels but as they offer a special service they can probably all afford to be dirty & without any other conveniences. However we stayed for one day, partly because Eric didn't notice anything odd about it until he tried to live in it & partly because my temperature was by that time going up about one degree an hour & I only wanted to lie down, which was easy enough, & to get drinks, which were brought me by a limitless variety of street Arabs who looked murderous but were very kind. Eric of course ate out & this is very expensive in Morocco so we moved here as soon as possible. This is the second most expensive hotel in Marrakech but it's much cheaper to have full pension here (95 fr. a day for two)1 than to go to restaurants.

  Sunday.

  Eric made me go to bed at that point, & since then we've been busy. He has written to you this morning while I unpacked, so you'll know about Mme Vellat & the villa in prospect. I think the villa will be fun from our point of view. It's entirely isolated except for a few Arabs who live in the outbuildings to tend the orange grove that surrounds it. We're going to buy enough furniture to camp with. As it will be the cheapest French furniture obtainable the aesthetic effect may be unfortunate, but we hope to get some decent rugs as we want them to take home. There is a large sitting room, two bedrooms, a bathroom & a kitchen. No provision for cooking but we'll have some little pots with charcoal in them & a Primus. The country is practically desert but may look different after the rains. Anyway we can have a goat & Eric will really get the benefit of the climate. In Marrakech itself he couldn't. The European quarter is intolerable with a second-rate respectability, & very expensive. The native quarter is 'picturesque' but the smells are only rivalled by the noises. Eric was so depressed that I thought we should have to come home but he is now quite excited about the villa & I think will be happy there. According to Dr. Diot (who was recommended by a friend of my brother's in Paris) the climate is ideal for him, or will be in a few weeks when it's cooler. And the villa has a sort of observatory on its roof which will be good to work in.

  The second bedroom is of course Avril's when she wants it. If she went to Tangier by sea the fare would be about PS12 return. At Tangier one can stay at the Continental for 10/- a day all in. The fare from Tangier to Marrakech by train is 155 fr. second class. Unfortunately the train gets into Casablanca at 3 p.m. or so & the next one to Marrakech leaves at 8 & takes all night. It would be better to stay one night at Casablanca, which I suppose would cost another 10/- altogether, & get the morning train here. It only takes 4 hours & one sees the country such as it is. We loathed it but that was largely because we were sentenced to live in it for six months. As one approaches Marrakech camels become more & more common until they're as ordinary as donkeys, & the native villages are extraordinary collections of little thatched huts about 5 feet square (but generally round), sometimes surrounded by a kind of hedge of dead wood or possibly a mud wall. We don't know what the walls are for; they aren't strong enough or high enough to keep anything out. Marrakech itself was largely built of mud & has enormous mud ramparts. The earth dries a reddish colour which is very beautiful in earth but unfortunate when approximately reproduced in paint by the French, who like to call Marrakech 'la rouge'. Some of the native products are lovely, especially the earthenware pots & jugs they use.

  Dr. Diot hasn't really examined Eric yet but intends to. He is not particularly sympathetic but he must be a good doctor & through him we'll be able to know that the chest really is reacting properly.

  Please give my love to Mr Blair & Avril. I do hope Mr Blair is getting out & that Avril will get out as far as Morocco. It's said to be a wonderful light here for photography. From her point of view it might have been more interesting to stay in Marrakech but one can walk one way (about 3 miles) in cooler weather & a taxi will cost about 2/6 I think. She might be able to hire a car if she liked to do her International driving test before coming. Anyway there are buses from Marrakech to all the other places.

  With love

  Eileen.

  [XI, 481, pp. 198-200; handwritten]

  1.At a rate of exchange of 170 francs to the pound, about 11s 2d (about PS22 at current values).

  Eileen* to Marjorie Dakin*

  27 September 1938

  Chez Mme Vellat

  rue Edmond Doutte Medina

  Marrakech

  French Morocco

  My dear Marjorie,

  We've just had our first letter--from Mrs Blair. It was full of good news. I'm so glad you have a well family & that Marx appreciates his good fortune.1 I only hope he behaves as they say.

  Yesterday we were rather hysterically writing semi-business letters in the hope that they'd be delivered before war broke out. Today the papers are somewhat calmer, but it's maddening to see none except those published in Morocco (we can get others but 4 to 8 days late & those at the moment might as well be years old). The extraordinary thing is that no one here seems interested. We were in a cafe when the evening paper arrived yesterday & only one other person bought one & he didn't open it. Yet there are many young Frenchmen here who would be mobilised for service in France I suppose. The general idea is that Morocco would be very safe, anyway inland. The Arabs don't seem ripe to make trouble & if they did make it the poor wretches would have 15,000 regular troops to contend with in Marrakech alone, complete with artillery & all. So long as we're allowed to stay here, & that will probably be as long as we have any money, we probably have a better chance than most of keeping alive. Though what we should be keeping alive for God knows. It seems very unlikely that Eric will publish another book after the outbreak of war. I was rather cheered to hear about Humphrey's* dugout.2 Eric has been on the point of constructing one for two years, though the plans received rather a check after he did construct one in Spain & it fell down on his & his companions' heads two days later, not under any kind of bombardment but just from the force of gravity. But the dugout has generally been by way of light relief; his specialities are concentration camps & the famine.

  He buried some potatoes against the famine & they might have been very useful if they hadn't gone mouldy at once. To my surprise he does intend to stay here whatever happens. In theory this seems too reasonable & even comfortable to be in character; in practice perhaps it wouldn't be so comfortable. Anyway I am thankful we got here. If we'd been in England I suppose he must have been in jail by now & I've had the most solemn warnings against this from all the doctors though they don't tell me how I could prevent it. Whatever the solution I do still desperately hope that there won't be war, which I'm sure would be much worse for the Czechs. After all political oppression, though it gets so much publicity, can make miserable only a small proportion of a whole nation because a political regime, especially a dictatorship, has to be popular. We keep seeing & being exasperated by pictures of London crowds 'demonstrating' when we don't know what they're demonstrating for, & there are occasional references to 'extremists' who are arrested but whether the extremists are Communists demonstrating against Chamberlain's moderation or Fascists or socialists or pacifists we don't know. Eric, who retains an extraordinary political simplicity in spite of everything, wants to hear what he calls the voice of the people. He thinks this might stop a war, but I'm sure that the voice would only say that it didn't want a war but of course would have to fight if the Government declared war. It's very odd to feel that Chamberlain is our only hope, but I do believe he doesn't want war either at the moment & certainly the man has courage.3 But it's fantastic & horrifying to think that you may all be trying on gas masks at this moment.4

  You'll probably have heard that we don't like Marrakech. It's interesting, but at first anyway seemed dreadful to live in. There are beautiful arches with vile smells coming out of them & adorable children covered in ringworm & flies. I found an open space to watch the sunset from & too late realised that
part of the ground to the west of us was a graveyard; I really couldn't bear Eric's conversation about the view as dominated by invisible worms & we had to go away without seeing the sunset. On the whole, however, I get acclimatised & I thought Eric was moving in the same direction, but he says he isn't. But when we have our villa (we move in on the 15th) he is going to be happy. He is even buying things for the house, including a copper tray four feet across that will dominate us for the rest of our lives. We also have two doves. Here they live in a cage but at the villa they are to go free. One can't have any tame animals because on the whole they have dreadful lives here & six months' spoiling would only make the future worse for them. Otherwise we'd have some donkeys--you can buy a donkey for 100 francs.5

  I expect you can't read a word of this. We only have one table & Eric is typing diary notes on it. He sends his love to everyone, including Marx. So do I.

  Eileen.

  If there is a war I don't know what Bristol,6 or indeed anywhere, will be like. But if at any time you wanted some place more remote for the children it's quite possible that the cottage will be empty. I don't know what the Commons would do but we've suggested to my brother that the cottage might anyway be kept in statu quo. It could be almost as safe as anywhere in England, & comparatively self-supporting, so we thought someone might be glad of it. Of course the Commons may all stay. Someone at my brother's house (24 Croom's Hill, S.E.10) will know. My brother himself would be mobilised at once I suppose as he's in the RAMC.7

  [At top of letter] There's no actual news yet about E's health. The doctor says we must allow 3 or 4 weeks for 'acclimatisation' before expecting much.

  [XI, 487, pp. 205-7; handwritten]

  1.Marx, the Orwells' black poodle, was being cared for by Marjorie and her husband, Humphrey Dakin.

  2.An air-raid shelter dug into the back garden. Such a shelter - not much more than a corrugated steel shell covered by earth - was introduced in November 1938 by the Home Secretary, Sir John Anderson, and was named after him. Over two million were erected, or dug out. They were free to those earning PS250 a year or less and cost PS7 for those earning more. Though subjected to a fair amount of ridicule, and inclined to flood, they probably saved lives.