Fifty Orwell Essays

asking, what is man? what are his needs? how can he best express himself?

  one would discover that merely having the power to avoid work and live

  one's life from birth to death in electric light and to the tune of

  tinned music is not a reason for doing so. Man needs warmth, society,

  leisure, comfort and security: he also needs solitude, creative work and

  the sense of wonder. If he recognised this he could use the products of

  science and industrialism eclectically, applying always the same test:

  does this make me more human or less human? He would then learn that the

  highest happiness does not lie in relaxing, resting, playing poker,

  drinking and making love simultaneously. And the instinctive horror which

  all sensitive people feel at the progressive mechanisation of life would

  be seen not to be a mere sentimental archaism, but to be fully justified.

  For man only stays human by preserving large patches of simplicity in his

  life, while the tendency of many modern inventions-in particular the

  film, the radio and the aeroplane-is to weaken his consciousness, dull

  his curiosity, and, in general, drive him nearer to the animals.

  POLITICS AND THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

  Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the

  English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we

  cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is

  decadent, and our language--so the argument runs--must inevitably share

  in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse

  of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to

  electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the

  half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an

  instrument which we shape for our own purposes.

  Now, it is clear that the decline of a language must ultimately have

  political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence

  of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause,

  reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an

  intensified form, and so on indefinitely. A man may take to drink because

  he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely

  because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the

  English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are

  foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to

  have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible.

  Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which

  spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take

  the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more

  clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step towards political

  regeneration: so that the fight against bad English is not frivolous and

  is not the exclusive concern of professional writers. I will come back to

  this presently, and I hope that by that time the meaning of what I have

  said here will have become clearer. Meanwhile, here are five specimens of

  the English language as it is now habitually written.

  These five passages have not been picked out because they are especially

  bad--I could have quoted far worse if I had chosen--but because they

  illustrate various of the mental vices from which we now suffer. They are

  a little below the average, but are fairly representative samples. I

  number them so that I can refer back to them when necessary:

  (1) I am not, indeed, sure whether it is not true to say that the Milton

  who once seemed not unlike a seventeenth-century Shelley had not become,

  out of an experience ever more bitter in each year, more alien (sic) to

  the founder of that Jesuit sect which nothing could induce him to

  tolerate.

  PROFESSOR HAROLD LASKI (Essay in FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION)

  (2) Above all, we cannot play ducks and drakes with a native battery of

  idioms which prescribes such egregious collocations of vocables as the

  Basic PUT UP WITH for TOLERATE or PUT AT A LOSS for BEWILDER.

  PROFESSOR LANCELOT HOGBEN (INTERGLOSSA)

  (3) On the one side we have the free personality; by definition it is not

  neurotic, for it has neither conflict nor dream. Its desires, such as

  they are, are transparent, for they are just what institutional approval

  keeps in the forefront of consciousness; another institutional pattern

  would alter their number and intensity; there is little in them that is

  natural, irreducible, or culturally dangerous. But ON THE OTHER SIDE, the

  social bond itself is nothing but the mutual reflection of these

  self-secure integrities. Recall the definition of love. Is not this the

  very picture of a small academic? Where is there a place in this hall of

  mirrors for either personality or fraternity?

  Essay on psychology in POLITICS (New York)

  (4) All the "best people" from the gentlemen's clubs, and all the frantic

  fascist captains, united in common hatred of Socialism and bestial horror

  of the rising tide of the mass revolutionary movement, have turned to

  acts of provocation, to foul incendiarism, to medieval legends of

  poisoned wells, to legalize their own destruction of proletarian

  organizations, and rouse the agitated petty-bourgeoisie to chauvinistic

  fervor on behalf of the fight against the revolutionary way out of the

  crisis.

  Communist pamphlet

  (5) If a new spirit is to be infused into this old country, there is one

  thorny and contentious reform which must be tackled, and that is the

  humanization and galvanization of the B.B.C. Timidity here will bespeak

  canker and atrophy of the soul. The heart of Britain may lee sound and of

  strong beat, for instance, but the British lion's roar at present is like

  that of Bottom in Shakespeare's MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM--as gentle as any

  sucking dove. A virile new Britain cannot continue indefinitely to be

  traduced in the eyes, or rather ears, of the world by the effete languors

  of Langham Place, brazenly masquerading as "standard English." When the

  Voice of Britain is heard at nine o'clock, better far and infinitely less

  ludicrous to hear aitches honestly dropped than the present priggish,

  inflated, inhibited, school-ma'am-ish arch braying of blameless bashful

  mewing maidens.

  Letter in TRIBUNE

  Each of these passages has faults of its own, but quite apart from

  avoidable ugliness, two qualities are common to all of them. The first is

  staleness of imagery; the other is lack of precision. The writer either

  has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something

  else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything

  or not. 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

&n
bsp; like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house. I list below, with notes

  and examples, various of the tricks by means of which the work of

  prose-construction is habitually dodged:

  DYING METAPHORS. A newly-invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a

  visual image, while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically

  "dead" (e.g., IRON RESOLUTION) has in effect reverted to being an

  ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in

  between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors

  which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save

  people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves. Examples are:

  RING THE CHANGES ON, TAKE UP THE CUDGELS FOR, TOE THE LINE, RIDE

  ROUGHSHOD OVER, STAND SHOULDER TO SHOULDER WITH, PLAY INTO THE HANDS OF,

  AN AXE TO GRIND, GRIST TO THE MILL, FISHING IN TROUBLED WATERS, ON THE

  ORDER OF THE DAY, ACHILLES' HEEL, SWAN SONG, HOTBED. Many of these are

  used without knowledge of their meaning (what is a "rift," for

  instance?), and incompatible metaphors are frequently mixed, a sure sign

  that the writer is not interested in what he is saying. Some metaphors

  now current have been twisted out of their original meaning without those

  who use them even being aware of the fact. For example, TOE THE LINE is

  sometimes written TOW THE LINE. Another example is THE HAMMER AND THE

  ANVIL, now always used with the implication that the anvil gets the worst

  of it. In real life it is always the anvil that breaks the hammer, never

  the other way about: a writer who stopped to think what he was saying

  would be aware of this, and would avoid perverting the original phrase.

  OPERATORS, or VERBAL FALSE LIMBS. These save the trouble of picking out

  appropriate verbs and nouns, and at the same time pad each sentence with

  extra syllables which give it an appearance of symmetry. Characteristic

  phrases are: RENDER INOPERATIVE, MILITATE AGAINST, PROVE UNACCEPTABLE,

  MAKE CONTACT WITH, BE SUBJECTED TO, GIVE RISE TO, GIVE GROUNDS FOR,

  HAVING THE EFFECT OF, PLAY A LEADING PART (R?LE) IN, MAKE ITSELF FELT,

  TAKE EFFECT, EXHIBIT A TENDENCY TO, SERVE THE PURPOSE OF, etc., etc. The

  keynote is the elimination of simple verbs. Instead of being a single

  word, such as BREAK, STOP, SPOIL, MEND, KILL, a verb becomes a PHRASE,

  made up of a noun or adjective tacked on to some general-purposes verb as

  PROVE, SERVE, FORM, PLAY, RENDER. In addition, the passive voice is

  wherever possible used in preference to the active, and noun

  constructions are used instead of gerunds (BY EXAMINATION OF instead of

  BY EXAMINING). The range of verbs is further cut down by means of the

  '-IZE' AND 'DE-' formations, and banal statements are given an appearance

  of profundity by means of the NOT 'UN-' formation. Simple conjunctions and

  prepositions are replaced by such phrases as WITH RESPECT TO, HAVING

  REGARD TO, THE FACT THAT, BY DINT OF, IN VIEW OF, IN THE INTERESTS OF, ON

  THE HYPOTHESIS THAT; and the ends of sentences are saved from anti-climax

  by such resounding commonplaces as GREATLY TO BE DESIRED, CANNOT BE LEFT

  OUT OF ACCOUNT, A DEVELOPMENT TO BE EXPECTED IN THE NEAR FUTURE,

  DESERVING OF SERIOUS CONSIDERATION, BROUGHT TO A SATISFACTORY CONCLUSION,

  and so on and so forth.

  PRETENTIOUS DICTION. Words like PHENOMENON, ELEMENT, INDIVIDUAL (as

  noun), OBJECTIVE, CATEGORICAL, EFFECTIVE, VIRTUAL, BASIS, PRIMARY,

  PROMOTE, CONSTITUTE, EXHIBIT, EXPLOIT, UTILIZE, ELIMINATE, LIQUIDATE, are

  used to dress up simple statements and give an air of scientific

  impartiality to biased judgments. Adjectives like EPOCH-MAKING, EPIC,

  HISTORIC, UNFORGETTABLE, TRIUMPHANT, AGE-OLD, INEVITABLE, INEXORABLE,

  VERITABLE, are used to dignify the sordid processes of international

  politics, while writing that aims at glorifying war usually takes on an

  archaic color, its characteristic words being: REALM, THRONE, CHARIOT,

  MAILED FIST, TRIDENT, SWORD, SHIELD, BUCKLER, BANNER, JACKBOOT, CLARION.

  Foreign words and expressions such as CUL DE SAC, ANCIEN R?GIME, DEUS EX

  MACHINA, MUTATIS MUTANDIS, STATUS QUO, GLEICHSCHALTUNG, WELTANSCHAUUNG,

  are used to give an air of culture and elegance. Except for the useful

  abbreviations I.E., E.G., and ETC., there is no real need for any of the

  hundreds of foreign phrases now current in English. Bad writers, and

  especially scientific, political and sociological writers, are nearly

  always haunted by the notion that Latin or Greek words are grander than

  Saxon ones, and unnecessary words like EXPEDITE, AMELIORATE, PREDICT,

  EXTRANEOUS, DERACINATED, CLANDESTINE, SUB-AQUEOUS and hundreds of others

  constantly gain ground from their Anglo-Saxon opposite numbers. [Note 1,

  below] The jargon peculiar to Marxist writing (HYENA, HANGMAN, CANNIBAL,

  PETTY BOURGEOIS, THESE GENTRY, LACKEY, FLUNKEY, MAD DOG, WHITE GUARD,

  etc.) consists largely of words and phrases translated from Russian,

  German or French; but the normal way of coining a new word is to use a

  Latin or Greek root with the appropriate affix and, where necessary, the

  '-ize' formation. It is often easier to make up words of this kind

  (DE-REGIONALIZE, IMPERMISSIBLE, EXTRAMARITAL, NON-FRAGMENTARY and so

  forth) than to think up the English words that will cover one's meaning.

  The result, in general, is an increase in slovenliness and vagueness.

  [Note: 1. An interesting illustration of this is the way in which the

  English flower names which were in use till very recently are being

  ousted by Greek ones, SNAPDRAGON becoming ANTIRRHINUM, FORGET-ME-NOT

  becoming MYOSOTIS, etc. It is hard to see any practical reason for this

  change of fashion: it is probably due to an instinctive turning-away

  from the more homely word and a vague feeling that the Greek word is

  scientific. (Author's footnote.)]

  MEANINGLESS WORDS. In certain kinds of writing, particularly in art

  criticism and literary criticism, it is normal to come across long

  passages which are almost completely lacking in meaning. [Note, below]

  Words like ROMANTIC, PLASTIC, VALUES, HUMAN, DEAD, SENTIMENTAL, NATURAL,

  VITALITY, as used in art criticism, are strictly meaningless, in the

  sense that they not only do not point to any discoverable object, but

  are hardly even expected to do so by the reader. When one critic writes,

  "The outstanding feature of Mr. X's work is its living quality," while

  another writes, "The immediately striking thing about Mr. X's work is

  its peculiar deadness," the reader accepts this as a simple difference

  of opinion If words like BLACK and WHITE were involved, instead of the

  jargon words DEAD and LIVING, he would see at once that language was

  being used in an improper way. Many political words are similarly

  abused. 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 almos
t

  universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising

  it: consequently the defenders of every kind of r?gime 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. That is, the person who uses them has his

  own private definition, but allows his hearer to think he means

  something quite different. Statements like MARSHAL P?TAIN WAS A TRUE

  PATRIOT, THE SOVIET PRESS IS THE FREEST IN THE WORLD, THE CATHOLIC

  CHURCH IS OPPOSED TO PERSECUTION, are almost always made with intent to

  deceive. Other words used in variable meanings, in most cases more or

  less dishonestly, are: CLASS, TOTALITARIAN, SCIENCE, PROGRESSIVE,

  REACTIONARY BOURGEOIS, EQUALITY.

  [Note: Example: "Comfort's catholicity of perception and image, strangely

  Whitmanesque in range, almost the exact opposite in aesthetic compulsion,

  continues to evoke that trembling atmospheric accumulative hinting at a

  cruel, an inexorably serene timelessness...Wrey Gardiner scores by

  aiming at simple bulls-eyes with precision. Only they are not so simple,

  and through this contented sadness runs more than the surface bittersweet

  of resignation." (POETRY QUARTERLY.) (Author's footnote.)]

  Now that I have made this catalogue of swindles and perversions, let me

  give another example of the kind of writing that they lead to. This time

  it must of its nature be an imaginary one. I am going to translate a

  passage of good English into modern English of the worst sort. Here is a

  well-known verse from ECCLESIASTES:

  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, nor yet riches

  to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and

  chance happeneth.

  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.

  This is a parody, but not a very gross one. Exhibit (3), above, for

  instance, contains several patches of the same kind of English. It will

  be seen that I have not made a full translation. The beginning and ending

  of the sentence follow the original meaning fairly closely, but in the

  middle the concrete illustrations--race, battle, bread--dissolve into the

  vague phrase "success or failure in competitive activities." This had to

  be so, because no modern writer of the kind I am discussing--no one

  capable of using phrases like "objective consideration of contemporary

  phenomena"--would ever tabulate his thoughts in that precise and detailed

  way. The whole tendency of modern prose is away from concreteness. Now

  analyze these two sentences a little more closely. The first contains 49

  words but only 60 syllables, and all its words are those of everyday

  life. The second contains 38 words of 90 syllables: 18 of its words are

  from Latin roots, and one from Greek. The first sentence contains six

  vivid images, and only one phrase ("time and chance") that could be

  called vague. The second contains not a single fresh, arresting phrase,

  and in spite of its 90 syllables it gives only a shortened version of the

  meaning contained in the first. Yet without a doubt it is the second kind

  of sentence that is gaining ground in modern English. I do not want to

  exaggerate. This kind of writing is not yet universal, and outcrops of

  simplicity will occur here and there in the worst-written page. Still, if

  you or I were told to write a few lines on the uncertainty of human

  fortunes, we should probably come much nearer to my imaginary sentence

  than to the one from ECCLESIASTES.