This letter was set up in type but, according to Orwell’s marginal note on the galley slip, ‘withdrawn because Tribune altered attitude in following week’.
[26?] June 1945
POLISH TRIAL
I read with some disappointment your comment on the trial of the sixteen Poles in Moscow,1 in which you seemed to imply that they had behaved in a discreditable manner and deserved punishment.
Early in the proceedings I formed the opinion that the accused were technically guilty: only, just what were they guilty of? Apparently it was merely of doing what everyone thinks it right to do when his country is occupied by a foreign power—that is, of trying to keep a military force in being, of maintaining communication with the outside world, of committing acts of sabotage and occasionally killing people. In other words, they were accused of trying to preserve the independence of their country against an unelected puppet government, and of remaining obedient to a government which at that time was recognised by the whole world except the U.S.S.R. The Germans during their period of occupation could have brought exactly the same indictment against them, and they would have been equally guilty.
It will not do to say that the efforts of the Poles to remain independent ‘objectively’ aided the Nazis, and leave it at that. Many actions which Left-wingers do not disapprove of have ‘objectively’ aided the Germans. How about E.A.M., for instance? 2 They also tried to keep their military force in being, and they, too, killed Allied soldiers—British in this case—and they were not even acting under the orders of a government which was recognised by anyone as legal. But what of it? We do not disapprove of their action, and if sixteen E.A.M. leaders were now brought to London and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment we should rightly protest.
To be anti-Polish and pro-Greek is only possible if one sets up a double standard of political morality, one for the U.S.S.R. and the other for the rest of the world. Before these sixteen Poles went to Moscow they were described in the Press as political delegates, and it was stated that they had been summoned there to take part in discussions on the formation of a new government. After their arrest all mention of their status as political delegates was dropped from the British Press—an example of the kind of censorship that is necessary if this double standard is to be made acceptable to the big public. Any well-informed person is aware of similar instances. To name just one: at this moment speakers up and down the country are justifying the Russian purges on the ground that Russia ‘had no quislings,’ at the same time as any mention of the considerable numbers of Russian troops, including several generals, who changed sides and fought for the Germans is being suppressed by cautious editors. This kind of whitewashing may be due to a number of different motives, some of them respectable ones, but its effect on the Socialist movement can be deadly if it is long continued.
When I wrote in your columns I repeatedly said that if one criticises this or that Russian action one is not obliged to put on airs of moral superiority. Their behaviour is not worse than that of capitalist governments, and its actual results may often be better. Nor is it likely that we shall alter the behaviour of the rulers of the U.S.S.R. by telling them that we disapprove of them. The whole point is the effect of the Russian mythos on the Socialist movement here. At present we are all but openly applying the double standard of morality. With one side of our mouths we cry out that mass deportations, concentration camps, forced labour and suppression of freedom of speech are appalling crimes, while with the other we proclaim that these things are perfectly all right if done by the U.S.S.R. or its satellite states: and where necessary we make this plausible by doctoring the news and cutting out unpalatable facts. One cannot possibly build up a healthy Socialist movement if one is obliged to condone no matter what crime when the U.S.S.R. commits it. No one knows better than I do that it is unpopular to say anything anti-Russian at this moment. But what of it? I am only 42, and I can remember the time when it was as dangerous to say anything pro-Russian as it is to say anything anti-Russian now. Indeed, I am old enough to have seen working class audiences booing and jeering at speakers who had used the word Socialism. These fashions pass away, but they can’t be depended on to do so unless thinking people are willing to raise their voices against the fallacy of the moment. It is only because over the past hundred years small groups and lonely individuals have been willing to face unpopularity that the Socialist movement exists at all.
George Orwell
[XVII, 2685, pp. 193–5]
1.The British had called for a meeting of the leaders of the Polish underground to discuss the implementation of the Yalta decisions on the formation of a Polish Government of National Unity. The preliminary meeting was to be held in Moscow and a further meeting was planned for London. However, when the Poles reached Moscow they were put on trial.
2.E.A.M. (Ethnikon Apeleftherotikon Metopon), the National Liberation Front, was formed in Greece in 1941 after the German invasion. It started as a true resistance movement with nearly the whole population as members. By early 1942 it was discovered that it was in fact a Communist-organised movement. A national guerrilla army was then formed to fight the Germans, but found itself also fighting the E.A.M. When the British returned to Greece in 1945, they also found themselves fighting the E.A.M.
To C. E. de Salis
29 June 1945
27B Canonbury Square
Islington
London N 1
Dear Sir,
Your letter was sent on to me by the Observer. I am very sorry I made the bad slip of speaking of the scuttling of the ship in Lord Jim.1 Of course I meant to say abandonment of the ship, and would probably have corrected this if I had sent the article in early enough to see a proof.
With regard to the other points in your letter. The rest of Lord Jim seems to me absurd, not because a young man who had behaved in that way would not seek redemption, but because the actual incidents of Jim’s life among the Malays are of a kind I find incredible. Conrad could describe life in the Far East from a sailor’s angle, with the emphasis on jungle scenery and the life of seaport towns, but if one has actually lived in one of those countries his descriptions of life inland are not convincing. As a whole, Lord Jim seems to me to be a very distinguished version of the type of book in which the hero is expelled from his club for cheating at cards and goes off to Central Africa to shoot big game. Even the Dorothy Lamour figure2 comes in. When I made that remark about people who could have adventures and also appreciate them, I thought of T. E. Lawrence, whom you mention, but after all how common or typical are such people? Marlow himself seems to me quite incredible. A person like that would not be a sea captain. Conrad himself was perhaps rather like that, but then the point is that he left the sea and took to writing. That way of writing a book also seems to me unsatisfactory, because one is so often brought up by the thought, ‘No one could possibly talk like this, or at such length.’
The Observer article rather deformed what I meant to say about Conrad, because as so often happens they had to cut out about 300 words from lack of space. I had written a paragraph or two in elaborating the point that with his Polish background Conrad had a remarkable understanding of the atmosphere of revolutionary movements—an understanding which very few Englishmen would have, and certainly no Englishman with anything resembling Conrad’s political outlook. I especially praised The Secret Agent, and suggested that this book, which now seems quite difficult to get hold of, should be reprinted.
Yours truly
George Orwell
[XVII, 2690, pp. 200–1; typewritten]
1.This was in a review by Orwell published on 24 June 1945 (XVII, 2683, pp. 90–1).
2.Dorothy Lamour (Dorothy Kaumeyer, 1914–96) was first dressed by Hollywood in a sarong-like garment in The Jungle Princess, 1936, and came to typify exotic beauty, and especially so dressed in the ‘Road’ films to the point of self-parody. The film Typhoon, 1940, in which she appeared, had nothing to do with Conrad’s novel of that title. Orwell very briefly revi
ewed her Moon over Burma, 5 July 1941 (XII, 828, p. 522), but devoted more attention to an elephant and a cobra than to Miss Lamour.
‘Orwell and the Stinkers’: A Correspondence
29 June 1945
Tribune
On 29 June 1945, Tribune published a short review by Subramaniam 1 of Million: Second Collection,2 edited by John Singer. This briefly summarised the contents and recommended the collection, but devoted half its length to an essay by J. E. Miller, ‘George Orwell and Our Times,’ which was said to deserve a separate paragraph:
This article, which is as provocative as any of Orwell’s, is analytical, stimulating and almost brilliant. Mr. Miller, however, fails in one respect. He does not give enough importance to the fact that Orwell is one of the few writers who give political writing a literary form. Instead, he seems to be primarily concerned as to how far George Orwell has correlated his beliefs with correct Socialist behaviour and submits a long indictment with several counts.
A lively correspondence followed, and Tribune clearly played it for all it was worth. Twice letters were given headings as provocative as the argument: ‘Orwell and the Stinkers’ and ‘More Views on Stinkers’. The first letter, from Paul Potts,3 was published on 6 July 1945:
When reviewing Million last week Subramaniam mentioned an article on George Orwell by J. E. Miller. In this article Miller reiterates an old libel on Orwell, current at the time The Road To Wigan Pier first appeared, that Orwell said somewhere in that book that working-class folks stank. What he did say was that as a schoolboy at Eton he was brought up to believe they did. This error has been pointed out to Mr. Miller, who persists in circulating it. May one remind him that the particular version of socialism that he advocates is in no way aided by a mean untruth?
Further letters are included in XVII, pp. 202–3, and Orwell’s letter to the Editor of Million is to be found in The Lost Orwell, pp. 107–8. This is an extract from Orwell’s response in Tribune:
[…] what I was discussing in this chapter of Wigan Pier was the theory taught to us as children that the working classes are, as it were, smelly by nature. We were taught that the ‘lower classes’ (as it was usual to call them) had a different smell from ourselves, and that it was a nasty smell; we were taught just the same about Jews, Negroes and various other categories of human beings. In the book, I explained elaborately how I was taught this, how I accepted it, and how and why I afterwards got rid of it. Mr. Miller ignores all this and simply picks out isolated sentences which seem to support his thesis, a method by which anybody can be made to say anything.4
[XVII, 2691, pp. 201–205]
1.Unidentified.
2.Million ran for three issues. It was undated; they are assigned to 1943–45. It was published in Glasgow and carried one of two subtitles: ‘New Left Writing’ or ‘The People’s Review’.
3.For Paul Potts, see 1.7.46, n. 5.
4.Orwell wrote, ‘That was what we were taught—the lower classes smell’ (V, p. 119); the italics are in the original. He then discussed this proposition on the following four pages. It was Somerset Maugham who unequivocally stated that the working man stank. Orwell quoted a dozen lines from Maugham’s On a Chinese Screen, the only book, Orwell said, he knew in which this issue ‘is set forth without humbug’. Maugham wrote, and Orwell quoted, ‘I do not blame the working man because he stinks, but stink he does.’ Orwell concluded his discussion by saying, ‘Actually people who have access to a bath will generally use it. But the essential thing is that middle-class people believe that the working class are dirty’ (V, p. 122).
To Leonard Moore*
3 July 1945
27B Canonbury Square
Islington N 1
Dear Mr Moore,
I had a talk with Warburg about the contract position. He is quite satisfied with my assurance that I will bring him all my future work, subject to books of a special nature (eg. that Britain in Pictures book)1 being allowed to go elsewhere. He is not pressing for a hard and fast contract, but he would no doubt prefer to have one when the other business is settled.
The real trouble is with Gollancz. The contract to bring him my next two novels is still extant, and as he refused to regard Animal Farm as working off one of these, it looks as if he wants to keep to it. At the same time I frankly would prefer not to give or offer him any more books if we can get out of it. I have no quarrel with him personally, he has treated me generously and published my work when no one else would, but it is obviously unsatisfactory to be tied to a publisher who accepts or refuses books partly on political grounds and whose own political views are constantly changing. When I wrote Animal Farm for instance, I knew in advance that it would be a very difficult book to find a publisher for, and having to submit it to Gollancz simply meant that much time wasted. This might happen over and over again, and judging by some of the things he has published during the past year or two, I doubt whether I could now write anything that Gollancz would approve of. For instance, I recently started a novel2. Considering how much work I have to do elsewhere I don’t expect to finish it till some time in 1947, but I am pretty sure Gollancz would refuse it when the time comes, unless by that time his views have altered again. He might say that so far as novels go he does not mind what views they express, but it is a bad arrangement to take novels to one publisher and non-fiction to another. For example, that Spanish war book, which is about the best I have written, would probably have sold more if published by Gollancz, as by that time I was becoming known to the Gollancz public. With Warburg these difficulties don’t arise. He is less interested in propaganda and in any case his views are near enough to mine to prevent serious disagreement. From Gollancz’s own point of view I do not imagine I am a good proposition either. Having me on his list means that from time to time he will publish a book which neither he nor his friends can disapprove° of. It seems to me that if he will agree it would be better to scrap the contract. If he won’t agree I will keep to the strict letter, ie. as regards two more novels, and I have no doubt I can make this all right with Warburg. Perhaps you could approach Gollancz about this. You can quote this paragraph if you wish.
I saw W. J. Turner the other day and asked him about the Britain in Pictures book. He said Edmund Blunden 3 is writing the companion volume and the two will be published simultaneously. I said that as they had had the Ms a year I thought I ought to have some money. The agreed advance was £50 and I suggested they should give me £25 now. He said there would be no objection to this and I told him you would write to him, which you have perhaps done already.
Hamish Hamilton wrote to say Harper’s would like to see something more of mine. I told him about the book of essays, and perhaps if the Dial Press people turn it down it might be worth showing it to Harpers,° though I shouldn’t think it is much in their line.
Yours sincerely
Eric Blair
[XVII, 2694, pp. 207–8; typewritten]
1.The English People: see the penultimate paragraph. Turner was the general editor of the series.
2.Nineteen Eighty-Four.
3.Edmund Blunden (1896–1974; CBE), poet, editor, man of letters. He contributed to broadcasts to India for Orwell on English literature. His English Villages (1941) is No. 11 in the Britain in Pictures series.
To Lydia Jackson*
1 August 1945
Dear Lydia,
Of course use the cottage second half of August. Even if I did manage to go down there some time, it wouldn’t be then.
I am still trying to take that cottage in the Hebrides. I don’t know if it will materialise, but if it does, I shall send the Wallington furniture there. That wouldn’t be until early next year, however.
I am frightfully busy, but I am glad to say I have got a good nurse who looks after Richard and cooks my meals as well. Richard is extremely well although he is teething rapidly. He is now 14½ months and weighs about 26 pounds. He can stand up without support but doesn’t actually walk yet, and I don’t want to hurry him as I
am afraid he may be too heavy for his legs. He isn’t talking yet, ie. he utters word-like sounds, but no actual words. He doesn’t seem to have taken any harm from the many changes in his short life. When you are back, come over and see us both. I am nearly always at home in the afternoons. Richard has his tea about half past four and I have a high tea about seven.
My love to Pat.
Yours
Eric
[XVII, 2712, p. 236; typewritten]
Gleb Struve had written to Orwell on 28 August 1945, saying he had found Animal Farm ‘delightful, even though I do not necessarily agree with what one of the reviewers described as your “Trotskyist prejudices.” ’ He was teaching in the Russian section of a Summer School at Oxford and students were queuing for the book. He had been very amused ‘by the pudeur’ of those reviewers who had praised the book but had avoided mentioning its real target. He wished to translate Animal Farm, not for the benefit of Russian émigrés, but for Russians abroad who could read the truth about their country only when outside it. He asked Orwell whether he had severed his connection with Tribune; he missed his articles. His own book, on Soviet literature, was soon to be published in French with a special preface emphasising the fact that there was no freedom of expression in the Soviet Union.
To Gleb Struve*
1 September 1945
27B Canonbury Square
Islington N 1
Dear Mr Struve,
Many thanks for your letter of August 28th.
I will keep in mind your suggestion about translating Animal Farm, and naturally, if it could be in any way arranged, I should be highly honoured if it were you who made the translation. The thing is that I don’t know what the procedure is. Are books in Russian published in this country, ie. from non-official sources? At about the same time as your letter a Pole wrote wanting to do the book into Polish. I can’t, of course, encourage him to do so unless I can see a way of getting the book into print and recompensing him for his work, and ditto with yourself. If there is any way of arranging this that would allow a reasonable fee to the translators, I would be most happy to do it, as naturally I am anxious that the book should find its way into other languages. If translations into the Slav languages were made, I shouldn’t want any money out of them myself.1
George Orwell: A Life in Letters Page 35