Down and Out in 2024: An Analysis of George Orwell's first book ‘Down and Out in Paris and London’
The literary works of George Orwell are revered for tackling severe issues in a witty and digestible manner; I can confirm that his first book, ‘Down and Out in Paris and London’, is no exception. Like Animal and 1984, the message conveyed is so profound and pertinent to today's society that I felt obligated to share my interpretation. I have divided my findings into three parts: The Poor Man, The Wealthy Man and All Men. Please consider this an interpretation of the work of George Orwell and not my opinion (I will save that for the end).
The Poor Man
Poverty is a mental condition; the physical consequences of poverty are real, but true poverty occurs when the condition infests the mind.
When Orwell was in Paris, he lost his employment as an English teacher and pawned his items for money. He lived in a dirty apartment and went days without eating. In London, he owned one set of frumpy old clothes and frequented homeless lodges, sleeping in bed sheets that had not been washed in weeks. He smoked tobacco from discarded cigarette buds and lived on a diet of tea, toast and margarine. Of course, these experiences are not pleasant. Still, they are PHYSICAL conditions, onboarded by the senses, that are only allowed to infiltrate the sanctity of the mind at the behest of the individual. Orwell even states that poverty, for some, can be a liberating experience:
“It is a feeling of relief, almost of pleasure, at knowing yourself at last genuinely down and out. You have talked so often of going to the dogs — and well, here are the dogs, and you have reached them, and you can stand it. It takes off a lot of anxiety.”
“Poverty frees them from ordinary standards of behaviour, just as money frees people from work.”
The fear of losing money, and thus status, can cause more harm than poverty itself. We fear the consequences and the social scrutiny linked to having no money, but when we reach the point of no return, many of us stop caring. When you are penniless and embrace it with a sense of acceptance and not shame, you can be freer than any member of the middle class. Yes, you may experience the physical conditions of poverty, but the constraints of society no longer bind you; there is no point in adhering to society's expectations because the game has eliminated you.
Orwell’s encounters with an Irishman named Paddy living on the streets of London illustrate how the mental burden of poverty far outweighs its physical consequences. Paddy is portrayed as a kind-hearted and generous man but also an ignorant man who refuses to enlighten himself. He possesses a disdain for books and learning, even refusing to enter a library. He is ashamed of being homeless yet resents other homeless people and displays feelings of jealousy towards the employed. Paddy is a labourer trapped in poverty's jaws, but his mind keeps him there. The condition is definitively hopeless if a man is poor in the mind and body.
Orwell argues that for this reason, the idleness of homelessness is far more crippling for a man of ignorance than a man who possesses intellect and education:
“People are wrong when they think that an unemployed man only worries about losing his wages; on the contrary, an illiterate man, with the work habit in his bones, needs work even more than he needs money. An educated man can put up with enforced idleness, which is one of the worst evils of poverty. But a man like Paddy, with no means of filling up time, is as miserable out of work as a dog on the chain. That is why it is such nonsense to pretend that those who have 'come down in the world' are to be pitied above all others. The man who really merits pity is the man who has been down from the start, and faces poverty with a blank, resourceless mind.”
Poverty is a physical state that is unforgiving, harsh and cruel. Unfortunately, the condition is far more crippling for a man of ignorance and little intelligence because he must endure the mental suffering as well as the physical.
The Wealthy Man
The penniless man has the choice to subscribe to the illusion that he is worthless; the wealthy man has the choice to subscribe to the illusion that he is superior.
Wealthy men believe their position in life is one of merit, despite many being born into rich families and afforded opportunities unavailable to the average citizen. Many live in a state of false superiority, which nurtures a feeling of disgust toward people without money. The experience of the wealthy man is one of pleasure and comfort, but behind the facade is a man in fear. A false sense of superiority, stiffened by money and social status, and the fear of losing his wealth keep him greedy and equally ignorant as Paddy the tramp. The rich man fears losing his position, so much so that he is willing to act in a way that keeps a fellow human being on the fringe of poverty occupied with survival rather than revolution.
The wealthy man has let riches go to his head; he lives in a delusion and superstition that is not real. It is a product of the human mind:
“Fear of the mob is a superstitious fear. It is based on the idea that there is some mysterious, fundamental difference between rich and poor, as though they were two different races, like Negroes and white men. But in reality there is no such difference. The mass of the rich and the poor are differentiated by their incomes and nothing else, and the average millionaire is only the average dishwasher dressed in a new suit. Change places, and handy dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Everyone who has mixed on equal terms with the poor knows this quite well. But the trouble is that intelligent, cultivated people, the very people who might be expected to have liberal opinions, never do mix with the poor. For what do the majority of educated people know about poverty?”
The state of the wealthy man is arguably worse than that of the poor. Sure, his life is more comfortable, but riches create an illusion far stronger than poverty could conjure. Pleasure disguises the truth that all men are the same, and so the wealthy live in fear of the mob, bound by societal convention and the scrutinisation of their rich friends.
During his time working as a PLONGEUR (dishwasher) in a fancy Parisian hotel, Orwell describes the pointless nature of the profession, accrediting its existence to this ‘fear of the mob’ and stating, “a Plonguer is one the slaves of the modern world”.
The life of a dishwasher is a waste: the work consumes one's life, allowing only time for eating, sleeping and working, and yet the kitchen would be unfazed if he were not there. They are paid just enough to keep them alive and have so little time outside of work that they cannot muster the brain power to elevate themselves from this position. Professions of this nature are a societal trap designed to crush social mobility and keep the mob preoccupied but not productive, alive but without energy:
“His (PLONGUERS) work is servile and without art; he is paid just enough to keep him alive; his holiday is the sack. He is cut off from marriage, or, if he marries, his wife must work too”.
“for an idle man cannot be a Plonguer; they have simply been trapped by a routine which makes thought impossible”.
The sad existence of PLONGUERS and similar jobs only exists because wealthy men are willing to pay for the services provided by the PLONGUERS' employers.
All Men
Those with money chase a lifestyle of luxury and so dine in fancy hotels and restaurants but are served a shoddy imitation of it:
“Essentially, a smart hotel is a place where a hundred people toil like devils in order that two hundred may pay through the nose for things they do not really want. If the nonsense were cut out of hotels and restaurants, and the work done with simple efficiency, PLONGUERS might work six or eight hours a day instead of often fifteen.”
“smartness means the staff work more and the customer pays more; no one really benefits except the proprietor.”
The irony in the whole charade is that neither the wealthy man nor the poor man benefits. The wealthy man overpays for an imitation of luxury to uphold a representation of his social standing, while the poor man must work a mind-numbing job that consumes all the waking hours of his life and thus his thoughts. For what sake? To appease the wealthy’s desire for luxury and tame their fear of a mob uprising. The only party that benefits is the establishment providing the charade; similar to the house of a casino, the establishment profits from the extravagance of the rich and the vulnerability of the poor.
Social status is a consequence of false beliefs we have attached to money. The rich are attached to lifestyle and possessions; the homeless and the poor are treated as if they are subhuman; they are seen as the poster children for all that is wrong in society. Many in poverty internalise these stories and start to believe them, experiencing a sense of shame and unworthiness. Money has replaced morality by becoming ‘the grand test of virtue’, as people are not judged on the basis of their character but on a number in a bank account.
In society, there are plenty of useless jobs. The only difference is that the homeless are paid far less and scrutinised far more for their position. Here are a few excerpts that uncover the fact that all men, removed of their societal costumes, are just men:
“People seem to feel that there is some essential difference between beggars and ordinary 'working' men. They are a race apart--outcasts, like criminals and prostitutes. Working men 'work', beggars do not 'work'; they are parasites, worthless in their very nature.”
“I do not think there is anything about a beggar that sets him in a different class from other people, or gives most modern men the right to despise him. Then the question arises, Why are beggars despised?--for they are despised, universally. I believe it is for the simple reason that they fail to earn a decent living.”
“If one could earn even ten pounds a week at begging, it would become a respectable profession immediately. A beggar, looked at realistically, is simply a businessman, getting his living, like other businessmen, in the way that comes to hand. He has not, more than most modem people, sold his honour; he has merely made the mistake of choosing a trade at which it is impossible to grow rich.”
Society is merely an endless play where we are all treated in accordance with what customs we wear. We allow this theatrical display to run our lives and dictate how we think of ourselves and how we treat other people, forgetting the only genuine thing, which is that we are all human beings who have either benefitted or harmed at the hands of fate. At our core, all men are the same:
“The mass of the rich and the poor are differentiated by their incomes and nothing else, and the average millionaire is only the average dishwasher dressed in a new suit.”
The most fascinating person Orwell encountered was Bozo, a homeless man who earned a living by drawing in the centre of London. Bozo had been a scaffolder living in Paris when his wife died. After that, he spent a week drinking, and upon his return to work, he fell from a high scaffold, completely shattering one of his legs.
What made him such an intriguing character was that even though he had lost his wife, he could not walk without a crutch and had spent years living on the streets of London. He was remarkably unfazed by it all. Orwell described him as intelligent and determined not to allow his physical condition to determine his mental condition. Bozo was arguably in a worse position than any of the homeless people mentioned in the book. Nevertheless, he represents the nature of wealth and poverty more than any character in the book; wealth and poverty are mental conditions first, physical conditions second.
Bozo is a testament to the fact that one may endure all the physical ailments of poverty, but one is only truly poor once they allow the fortress of their mind to be infiltrated:
“If you set yourself to it, you can live the same life, rich or poor. You can still keep on with your books and ideas. You just got to say to yourself, ‘I’m a free man in here’- he tapped his forehead- and you’re all right.” Bozo
Conclusion
Am I saying that wealth and poverty do not exist? That wealth does not entail pleasure, and poverty does not entail displeasure? No, wealth and poverty are conditions that do have physical consequences, but they are primarily mental conditions. One can be in physical poverty, but if they are rich in the mind, they will not suffer and are more likely to escape the physical position and enter one that is more aligned with their mental condition. However, if you remain poor in the mind, if you allow your physical condition(inherited or inadvertently acquired) to determine your mental condition, then you will suffer greatly, and there will be no way out. I believe the same can be said for people who are wealthy physically but poor mentally, those who believe physical wealth equates to superiority. These feelings are negative and thus will taint other aspects of their lives and prevent them from treating other humans with kindness. Orwell wrote this book to highlight that we are all human, and we should not let our costumes blind our compassion and humanity. If you have not already, I urge you to read this exceptional book.