Another step in my quest to
read all of Orwell’s novels (not because I love him or because they’re many,
but because I have, well, his “complete novels”).
Orwell himself seems to have
disliked A Clergyman’s Daughter,
written at a time of financial difficulties and little literary inspiration. Oddly
enough, I didn’t dislike it – compared to the dullness of Keep the Aspidistra Flying this was a welcome journey of
self-discovery, and I did enjoy the writing (except for the chapter set in
Trafalgar Square, the only one the author apparently found worth something).
This is not to say that I
particularly liked the book though – I kept on thinking how (literally)
miserable the hop pickers were compared to the peach pickers of Grapes of Wrath, and attacks on Christianity
(despite my remarkable distance from it!) normally bore me to death, as in this
case.
No comments:
Post a Comment