Keep the Aspidistra Flying by George Orwell

Keep the Aspidistra Flying Reviews

• 
  Petra loves Miami art everywhere instead of trees

  Essentially this is every art student's dilemma, or at least it was back in my day, to sell out and deal with the Man or be true to our art and starve in an attic. Whether to find one's place within the system or try to forge a unique life outside of it. One thing we had in common was pot plants. An aspidistra in Orwell's case, another kind of pot plant for me.
  
  As the story works itself out Gordon discovers two more things, things we had in common - we were really rather average poets and artists, and the answer to all the problems caused by following one's (mediocre) calling and being permanently broke, was the Man himself, aka Filthy Lucre. After all, there is a limit to how much cash you can borrow and still feel yourself an independent soul. Also, at least for a man, including Gordon much to his chagrin, it's much harder to get laid if you haven't a bean to your name.
  
  So what did we all do? We sold out. Are we happy with our decision and our lives, did we even stay as artists? Probably most of us look back on our youth, well misspent as artists are wont to do, fondly, but are now solid citizens of society. We have morphed into the Man ourselves and don't call it 'selling out' but making a living.
  
  It's not a bad read, amusing in parts, but Gordon is such a tiresome creature and it was all a bit, in a not-too-distant historical sense, been there, done that, grew up.
  
  Not Orwell's best book, but still pretty good.
  
  Rewritten Jan 29, 2017
• 
  Ahmad Sharabiani

  Keep the Aspidistra Flying, George Orwell
  
  Keep the Aspidistra Flying, first published in 1936, is a socially critical novel by George Orwell. It is set in 1930's London. The main theme is Gordon Comstock's romantic ambition to defy worship of the money-god and status, and the dismal life that results.
  
  The aspidistra is a hardy, long-living plant that is used as a house plant in England, and which can grow to an impressive, even unwieldy size.
  
  It was especially popular in the Victorian era, in large part because it could tolerate not only weak sunlight but also the poor indoor air quality that resulted from the use of oil lamps and, later, coal gas lamps.
  
  They had fallen out of favor by the 20th century, following the advent of electric lighting. Their use had been so widespread among the middle class that they had become a music hall joke appearing in songs such as "Biggest Aspidistra in the World," of which Gracie Fields made a recording.
  
  عنوانهای چاپ شده در ایران: «همه جا پای پول در میان است»؛ «درخت زندگی»؛ «پول و دیگر هیچ (تسلیم)»؛ نویسنده: جورج اورول؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش روز یازدهم ماه می سال 1984میلادی
  
  عنوان: درخت زندگی؛ نویسنده: جورج اورول؛ مترجم: منصور اقتداری؛ تهران، کاوش، 1363؛ در 322ص؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان بریتانیا - سده 20م
  
  عنوان: همه جا پای پول در میان است؛ نویسنده: جورج اورول؛ مترجم: رضا فاطمی؛ مشخصات نشر تهران، انتشارات مجید، 1391، در 304ص، شابک9789644530401؛ چاپ دوم 1392؛ چاپ سوم 1394؛
  
  عنوان: پول و دیگر هیچ (تسلیم)؛ نویسنده: جورج اورول؛ مترجم: همایون حنیفه وند مقدم؛ ویراستار سید مجتبی طهوری؛ زنجان، هلال نقره ای، 1396، در278ص؛ شابک 9786009987924؛ چاپ دیگر تهران، موسسه انتشاراتی پر، 1396؛ در288ص؛ شابک 9786008137597؛ چاپ دیگر قم ، پدیده دانش؛ 1396؛ در288ص؛ شابک 9786006052588؛ چاپ دیگر قم، آسمان علم، 1396؛ در288ص؛ شابک9786006549484؛ چاپ دیگر تهران، یاران خرد؛ 1396؛ در 336ص؛ شابک9786009724963؛
  
  نخستین بار با عنوان: «درخت زندگی»؛ با ترجمه جناب «منصور اقتداری»، توسط انتشارات کاوش، در سال 1363هجری خورشیدی، و در322ص منتشر شد، همچنین نشر کوشش در همان سال، همین کتاب را با عنوان «تسلیم»، با ترجمه جناب «همایون حنیفه وند مقدم»، در240ص منتشر کرده است
  
  ترجمه عنوان اصلی کتاب: «به آسپیدیستراها رسیدگی کن» است، و یک رمان اجتماعی است، که در سال 1936میلادی، توسط «جورج اورول» نگاشته شده است؛ درون‌مایه ی اصلی داستان، درباره ی بلندپروازی «گوردون کامستاک»، برای به چالش کشیدن «پولخدایی»، یا همان خداوندگاری پول، و جایگاه و مقام و زندگی ملال آورش، پس از آن است؛ «گودرون کاستاک» احساس می‌کند، جنگی به وقوع پیوسته است؛ او شغل تبلیغات برای یک شرکت، به نام «نیو آبلیون»، را که در آن بسیار زبردست، و ماهر بوده را، ترک کرده، و به جای آن، به یک حرفه ی کم درآمد، مشغول شده است، اما اکنون، می‌تواند به دلمشغولی مورد علاقه خویش، یعنی شاعری، مشغول شود؛ او از یک خانواده ی ثروتمند است، که ثروت به ارث رسیده‌ را، با ولخرجی، به هدر داده‌ اند؛ «گوردون»، از اینکه برای زنده ماندن، باید کار کند، خشمگین است، و زیر فشار استرس، و درماندگی خودخواسته‌ ی خویش، بسیار عصبی، و ناراحت است؛ «گوردون» به زندگی حقیرانه‌ ی خویش، در یک اتاق کوچک، در «لندن»، ادامه می‌دهد؛ و در یک فروشگاه کتاب نیز، به سرپرستی یک «اسکاتلندی»، به نام «مک کچنی»، کار می‌کند؛ و در همین حال تنها اثر چاپ شده‌ اش، با عنوان «موش‌ها»، روی قفسه ی کتاب‌فروشی‌ها، خاک می‌خورد؛ «گوردون کاستاک»، از غلبه و تسلط پول (که او دوست میدارد آن را «پول خدایی» بنامد) بر روابط اجتماعی، بسیار ناراحت است؛ و احساس می‌کند که زنان، اگر او ثروتمند بود، بیشتر به او ابراز علاقه می‌کردند
  
  نقل از فصل نخست کتاب: (ساعت دو و نیم بود؛ «گوردون کومستاک» بیست و نه ساله، آخرین عضو خانواده «کومستاک»، که نسبت به سنش، پیرتر به نظر میرسید، در دفتر کار کوچکی، که در پشت کتابفروشی آقای «مک کچنی» واقع بود، خودش را روی میز ولو کرده بود، و با انگشت شست خود، پاکت سیگار را، که چهار پنی بیشتر نمیارزید، باز و بسته میکرد
  
  دینگ دانگ، ساعت یادبود «پرنس والز»، که در طرف دیگر خیابان بود، باز هم سکوت را شکست؛ «گوردون» با اندکی تلاش، صاف نشست، و پاکت سیگارش را، در جیب بغلش گذاشت؛ خیلی دلش میخواست سیگاری دود کند؛ اما فقط چهار نخ سیگار، برایش باقی مانده بود؛ آن روز چهارشنبه بود، و او تا جمعه، پولی به دست نمیآورد؛ تصور اینکه، آنشب و فردای آنشب، بدون سیگار بماند، برایش وحشتناک بود
  
  در حالیکه، از فکر ساعات بی سیگاری فردا، کسل و بی حوصله بود، از جا بلند شد، و به سمت در رفت؛ اندامی کوچک، با استخوان بندی ظریف و حرکاتی عصبی داشت؛ آرنج آستین سمت راست کتش، نخ نما شده بود، و دگمه وسطش افتاده بود، شلوار فلانل حاضریش، لکه دار و از ریخت افتاده بود؛ حتا از بالا که نگاه میکردی، میشد فهمید، که زیره ی کفشهایش، نیاز به تعویض دارند؛
  
  زمانی که از جایش بلند میشد، پولهای خرد درون جیب شلوارش، جرینگ جرینگ صدا کردند؛ دقیقا مقدار پولی را که در جیبش بود، میدانست؛ پنج پنس و نیم بود، ــ یک سکه سه پنی به علاوه دو و نیم پنس ــ؛ مکثی کرد، سکه سه پنی بی ارزش را بیرون آورد، و به آن نگاه کرد؛ واقعا چیز بیمصرفی بود؛ از طرف دیگر، چقدر احمقانه بود، که یک سکه سه پنی را، دیروز بخشیده بود؛ زمانی که داشت سیگار میخرید؛ دخترک فروشنده، با صدایی مثل جیرجیرک، از او پرسیده بود: «اگر یک بلیت سه پنی به شما بدهم، اشکالی دارد؟» و او گفته بود: «نه اصلاً اشکالی ندارد» و آن را از او گرفته بود؛ واقعا احمق بود؛
  
  وقتی به یاد آورد، که تنها دارایی او در این دنیا دو پنس و نیم بود، قلبش به درد آمد؛ به علاوه یک بلیت سه پنی، که نمیشد خرج کرد؛ چون چطور ممکن بود، با یک بلیت سه پنی چیزی خرید؟ آن که سکه نیست، فقط پاسخ یک معما است؛ وقتی آن را از جیبت بیرون میآوری، بسیار احمق به نظر میرسی؛ تو میپرسی «قیمتش چقدر است؟» و دختر فروشنده پاسخ میدهد «سه پنس»، و شما جیب خود را جستجو میکنی، و آن سه پنی مضحک کوچک را، که مانند یک گوهر درخشان، به انتهای انگشت شما چسبیده، از جیب خارج میکنی؛ دختر فروشنده، بینی خود را بالا میکشد؛ او به سرعت درمییابد، که این سه پنس آخرین دارایی شما، در دنیاست؛ او به سرعت، نگاهی به سکه میاندازد؛ به این فکر میکند، که آیا هنوز تکه ای از دسر کریسمس، به آن چسبیده است، یا نه؛ و شما، در حالیکه سر خود را، رو به بالا گرفته اید، از مغازه بیرون میآیید، و دیگر هرگز نمیتوانید به آنجا برگردید؛ نه، بنابراین نباید آخرین پنسهای خود را خرج کرد؛ تا جمعه فقط دو پنس و نیم باقی مانده
  
  آن ساعت، ساعت تنهایی بعد از ناهار بود، که انتظار نمیرفت، هیچ مشتری ای به آنجا مراجعه کند؛ او با هفت هزار کتاب تنها بود؛ اتاق تاریک و کوچک که بوی خاک، و کاغذهای کهنه را، میداد؛ دفتر کار او، مملو بود از کتابهایی، که اکثرا کهنه، و غیرقابل فروش بودند؛ روی قفسه های بالایی، نزدیک سقف، دایره المعارفهایی قدیمی، مانند تابوتها در قبرستان عمومی، کنار هم گذاشته شده بودند؛ «گوردون» پرده های آبی پر از گرد و خاک را، که اتاق دیگری را، از آنجا مجزا میکردند، کنار زد؛ این اتاق که روشنتر بود، محل امانت دادن کتاب، به مشتریان بود؛ کتابهایی که امانت گرفتن آنها، نیاز به ودیعه نداشت، و بیشتر از دو پنی نمیارزیدند؛ البته به جز رمانهایی که در آنجا بودند، کتابهای دیگری دیده نمیشد، و عجب رمانهایی! اما به هرحال آن هم برای خود موضوعیتی داشت.)؛ پایان نقل
  
  تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 04/10/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 21/07/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
• 
  Lori

  It's a tiresome book with a bitter, complaining main character with artistic ambitions. The snapshot capture of the time and place made it worth reading.
  
  
  "The most difficult times were the 1800s, when many Victorian homes began to have indoor lighting powered by gas. Gas lights produced toxic fumes that induced headache and nausea, blackened ceilings, discolored curtains, corroded metals and left a layer of soot on every flat surface. Flowers and most houseplants wilted. Only two particularly hardy plants managed to survive the dismal environment of a Victorian home—the Kentia palm and the aspidistra. These two plants, especially the aspidistra, became a mainstay of every Victorian parlour, drawing room, lobby and upscale ballroom."
  
  https://www.amusingplanet.com/2019/04...
• 
  Luís

  The novel is like "1984", a thesis novel. The author sets out to portray to us in great detail the monotony and smallness of Gordon's life and shows us page after page to what extent money governs every moment of the life of his "hero", despite his desperate attempt to extricate himself from the system. Suppose a form of boredom sometimes accompanies reading. In that case, insidious anguish seizes the reader when he realises how poverty eats away at Gordon from within, at the risk of robbing him of his soul.
  The reader quickly grasps the irony of the situation. By choosing to fight against money, Gordon paradoxically gets into a slump where lack of funds dictates his choices and defines him as a social, penniless friend with Ravelston and a chaste lover with Rosemary. At first glance, the novel's title, to say the least opaque, takes on its whole meaning: the aspidistra is a perennial plant, an integral part of every London household. It symbolises a form of normality, of belonging to society. Gordon's hatred of the aspidistra, which in his eyes represents the system he refuses to be a part of, illustrates all the author's chilling irony perfectly.
• 
  Fergus, Quondam Happy Face

  This is an earlier work of Orwell, and so shares with others in its category a rueful, biting cynicism and incipient depression. Not at all among the more buoyant of his books - as are by comparison, Animal Farm and 1984.
  
  By buoyant I mean that Orwell was, later on, fast becoming a household name in the leftward-drifting West, so that buoyed up by fame and fortune, he wrote with more confident acuity!
  
  And now he had money to burn, the want thereof having inspired the early and more dismal work Aspidistra.
  
  Added to that, his Leftist stance made him a sorta evangelist. The Daemon Knows... So booksellers are now the NEW evangelists.
  
  The book first stared up at me in 1976 from my old school buddy Allan's coffee table down in Kingston, Ontario. Almost like the bottle label to the too-large Alice, it said Read Me! Read Me! And so I did, though much later. But with such a title, how could I forget about it? Again, the daemon - the READING daemon.
  
  Do any of you readers know that familiar devil?
  
  Well, anyway, Orwell, as the novel thinly veils his own story, worked odd jobs to make ends meet (like so many of the jobless in the Thirties). One job was selling books (read my Kindle highlights). So he learned The Big Sell of the Literary Trade - long before it became an attractive crowd-pleaser on GoodReads.
  
  In his best-selling Isabel Dalhousie series of cozy mysteries, the writer McCall Smith has Isabel treat literary outsiders, such as Orwell and Auden, with the same hushed reverence that - in my childhood - was associated with places of worship.
  
  Pariahs are suddenly IN, their books and reviews as valuable to our more sophisticated generation - as paintings by Van Gogh and Picasso, painters of an outré mindset, were to high-class early 20th century Parisian snobs.
  
  Speaks VOLUMES of us, if you ask me!
  
  Art and literature are the new barrier-busters...
  
  And so books, too, have gone the way of all flesh...
  
  And have fallen into the dark demesne of the Almighty Buck.
• 
  Ariel

  Oh, Orwell, thank you.
  
  It's no secret that Animal Farm is one of my favourite books. Not only because it is a genius piece of the literary canon, but also because it the book that helped me crash down the wall between seeing classics as enemy and seeing their immense merit. It's been a long while since I read Animal Farm, (it was back in 2011), and while I enjoyed 1984 and some of Orwell's essays, I admit to not knowing if he'd be able to blow me away as strongly as he did with Animal Farm.
  
  I stand corrected. Keep the Aspidistra Flying can stand proudly beside Animal Farm.
  
  This book's main theme was money. Orwell is all about his grander ideas, and here the idea was clear: can a person stand against the "money-god"? Money is inescapable, it is necessary in all things. Desirable? Perhaps not. But necessary. Our main character, Gordon, decides to pledge war against money, to try and live against it and without it, and we see where that takes him.
  
  Orwell is politics, is social change, and this was a fantastic commentary on the position that money plays within and around our lives. The limitations and possibilities that it creates. It was very depressing at parts, very frustrating at parts, but always intelligent and important. Something very peculiar, that you won't find in Animal Farm of 1984, was a satisfying ending. So bask in it! Cause you won't see it too often from Orwell! It also had legitimate plot twists and moments that had me dying to keep reading.
  
  I read this book with my good friend Barry, and I want to thank him for being so great. We've had great discussion about this book, he's put up with my ramblings, and he's allowed Keep the Aspidistra Flying to have a similar effect on me that Animal Farm did: I can't wait to pick up more classics.
• 
  Annelies

  What is more important in life: to hold on your principles and by this lead a dreadful life, or to leave your principles, and by that get a richer life? Actually this is the basic question in this book. To know what Gordon choses, You should read the book. It's worth it.
• 
  Patricia

  Dear George Orwell,
  
  It's not you, it's me. It had to happen, really, this bit of faultering in the crush I've had on you. Sure, I've known you for years, but as you know, I've been completely smitten with you since last summer when I read your first published novel, Down and Out in Paris and London. I grew more smitten while reading An Age Like This, 1920- 1940, your early correspondance, reviews, and essays, and I remained so while reading your 2nd published novel, Burmese Days. But now the new car smell has faded a bit from my crush (sorry George, I know how Socialists detest it when emotions are fetishized and commodified). It's just that this latest book of yours that I've read, your 4th published novel Keep the Aspidistra Flying (1936, GB; 1956, US) has turned me from you a bit. I know that I'm probably making a mistake; others tell me how great you are--critic Lionel Trilling is quoted on the back leaf of my Harcourt edition as saying that Keep ... is "A remarkable novel ... a summa of all the criticisms of a commercial civilization that have ever been made," and the San Francisco Chronicle calls it "Both humorous and poignant." And to an extent, I agree--especially with Trilling's "summa" statement.
  
  The story is simple enough: Gordon Comstock, a decent poet of little success, has declared war on money. He is determined that he will live in a constant state of poverty, battling throughout the book to avoid succumbing to the ownership of what is, to him, the symbol of the drudge of middle class life: the aspidistra, a spindly-leafed member of the lily family, prized for its ability to withstand poor soil, little light, and minimal care. And I have to say that establishing this plant as Comstock's nemesis is a fabulously Orwellian statement about what it means to achieve enough "success" to land oneself in the middling rank. If it were only that to consider, George, I'd still be all about you.
  
  So what's my problem? you ask. Why am I giving you the "it's not you, it's me" speech? My problem is that your main character annoys me tremendously. Yes, Gordon Comstock shares some similarities to John Flory, the protagonist in Burmese Days. Both men step outside their immediate social group to take an objective look at that group. Both make attempts, albeit misguided and rather unsuccessful attemps, to avoid being manipulated by those close to them. But Flory is a much more sympathetic and likable character whose main flaw, one could argue, is blind romantic optimism. Perhaps in some ways, George, you see Comstock as Flory taken to the next step, the place one goes after blind romantic optimism has failed. To me, however, Comstock comes off as a whiney, self-destructive man having a major pout. He is determined that everyone around him be as repulsed by him as he is by the system that prizes the bastion of mediocrity that is the aspidistra.
  
  In all honesty, George, I think the problem, as is so often the case when a romance takes a downward turn, is that Comstock reminds me of a past relationship, he reminds me of a friend in my real world, the one outside of the pages, who wanted to issue a similar indictment against society. I know it's bad form to compare our situation with one past, but it's true, I've seen it before, the way Comstock relishes his smugness as he sits in his pious filth only to realize that he is the only one who understands the joke. The problem is that neither my friend in the past relationship nor Comstock seem to understand that society as a whole doesn't take much notice when one man refuses to conform to its dictates. At most that refusal may get him tossed in jail for some fairly innocuous reason, but there's no real improvement in the social soil. As with my friend, when Comstock realizes this, he becomes disenchanted with his perfect society of one and must decide which is worse, to slog though life in embittered solitude or to join the rest of the group by opening the curtains to the front window so all can see that the aspidistra is thriving.
  
  George, I guess what I'm saying is that I just need a little time and space. I know we've spent some amazing time together, and I'm sure that in time, I'll come to my senses and be back in touch. Until then, I wish you well and hope someone new finds you for the amazing guy you are.
  
  All my best,
  
  Patricia
  
• 
  Steven Godin

  
  Apparently Orwell himself didn't think much of this, and kept Keep the Aspidistra Flying from being reprinted in his lifetime. The mixed reviews come as no surprise then. While it isn't a bad novel, the plot does feel a bit puny, and the message he is trying to send out is delivered without any real drive and potency. Even the metaphors don't really stand up. It's something - unlike 1984 or my fave Down and Out in Paris and London - that's not going to hang around in my head for too long. Also, I don't know how on earth the novel can be seen as satire, because for me it isn't. Just too depressing and straight-faced. The contradicting second-rate poet Gordon Comstock - a character I didn't particularly like - makes the decision to quit his advertising agency to take up a dead-end job in a small bookshop. Basically he is sick to death of the blighting consumerism on society. Just about getting by with his uncomplaining girlfriend Rosemary, leads to an unexpected pregnancy and he is suddenly faced with the choice of whether to conform or to compound in regards to his hardship way of life. It's safe to say that Comstock incorporates some of the difficulties Orwell experienced himself. The person trying to live morally in a capitalist society for example. When it comes to the actual subject of finances, then I'd say Gordon is more on the side of wanting to simply shun adult life and responsibilities than he is bothered by the money-god and capitalism. He sees his own self-inflicted poverty easier to take rather than have it thrust upon him by outer forces. Orwell’s own life of poverty does mean Gordon’s is written with authenticity, but, I'd simply take Orwell all day long writing about himself rather than a fictitious version. Like I've said before - apart from 1984 - I much prefer his non-fiction/essays. 2.7 stars.
• 
  MJ Nicholls

  The reader’s response to Gordon Comstock’s behaviour will depend upon whether the reader has ever tried to live a “self-sufficient” life free from bourgeois respectability, or seriously pursued an artistic vocation with stubborn single-mindedness. Orwell’s novel is pretty one-track plot-wise—what happens when a person renounces money and its interminable grip?—but Comstock’s obsessive pursuit is a societal conundrum of universal proportions and makes for a frustrating and bone-deep trip to the depths. In my own case, my mother abandoned college ambitions to support her parents, and my two siblings have ditched artistic ambitions in favour of reasonably stable and well-paid occupations—as the third child, with this history of “selling out to the man,” I felt a strong need to have convictions as an artist manqué, privations being part of the plan on the road to obscurity. Comstock’s artistic drive is not strong enough to triumph over his money worries, suggesting his desire to write poetry is nothing but an excuse for rebelling against a predetermined bourgeois society (more horrible in the 1930s than it will ever be again). As with all Orwell’s fiction: it burrows into your conscience and lays eggs there.
• 
  Barry Pierce

  I buddy read this book with my bestie, Ariel Bissett. We spent more time on Voxer than actually reading this novel most nights but in our defense we spent most of that time gushing about Orwell.
  
  I think this is my favorite Orwell. I knew that from the very first chapter and oh what a chapter that is. I think it may be one of the best opening chapters to a novel that I've ever read, in fact, it's one of the best chapters that I've ever read.
  
  This novel tells us the story of Gordon Comstock, a man that completely rejects capitalism so much that he gives up his job at a large advertising agency to work in a quaint little bookshop. He hates money. He just wants to be a poet. However, his selfless, money-hating, and sometimes irritating attitude does not help his life in any way. Gordon is still an incredibly interesting protagonist though and I felt that this glimpse into life was just perfect, perfect!
  
  I really just want to run around the streets with copies of this book and throw it at people's faces shouting "OH MY GOD READ THIS". I would obviously be arrested for these actions so I'm going to do it here, OH MY GOD READ THIS. If you've only read the famous Orwells, Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four, then I highly suggest you read his lesser-known but (in my opinion) better works. This novel is a great entry point into the books that really made Orwell great. Once you're hooked though, you'll never look back!
• 
  Mohamed Bayomi

  كعادة جورج أورويل متبصر ومتجاوز للزمان و المكان ، فبالرغم ان الرواية تتناول المجتمع البريطاني ثلاثينات القرن الماضي ،تحديدا الطبقة الوسطى باعلاها ووسطها وادناها ،الا ان هذا لا يقف عائق امام عالمية الرواية او تجاوزها لحدود الزمن
  اما ان تخدم الهة المال او تتدهور ، لا توجد قاعدة أخرى
  عبادة المال عقيدة حتمية لانسان حضارتنا ، لا مفر ، فالقيم اثنين فقط ، الاولى اصنع المال والثانية لا تخسر وظيفتك ، قائمة اهدافك واختياراتك محدودة جدا ، فقط اثنتين ، ان تكون اله للمال او عب�� للمال ، الفقر في الطبقة الوسطى هو ليس ابدا مشكلة يومية بقدر ما هو مشكلة اخلاقية ، تلك الحقيقة التى كان جوردون بطل الرواية واعي لها ، الا انه قد اختار الحرية ، رافضا كل الاعيب الحضارة لكي تضع القيد حول عنقه ، ان تربطه بالمال ، رفض ان يكون اله او عبد في عالم التجارة ، اختار ان يعيش ناسك و ان يكفر بعبادة المال ، ان يتدهور حد التلاشي ، صمد لمدة عامين ، الا كما المثل المصري ، ياما في الجراب يا حاوي ، فجراب المال لا تنتهي الاعيبه ، ادرك اخيرا انه ان لم يتراجع الان سيتراجع مستقبلا ، اتخذ قراره و باع روحه ، ووضع قيده ، وعاد الى الحظيرة
  سوف يشمر عن ساعديه للعمل ، سيبيع روحه وسيتمسك بوظيفته
• 
  Margarita Garova

  „Имаше чувството, че ако истински презираш парите, можеш да живееш като птичка божия. Забравяше, че птичките не плащат наем. Гладуващ в таванска стая поет – гладуващ, но някак поносимо – така се виждаше той.“
  
  Гордън идва от род на дребнобуржоазни неудачници и самият той върви с бързи крачки към същата съдба. А иначе е умен и способен млад мъж, умел с думите, и има всички шансове да се издигне като съставител на рекламни текстове. Само че Гордън презира света на парите и капитализма, който превръща човека в роботизиран чиновник. Гордън не иска да участва в надпреварата. Гордън иска да живее спокойно, дори ако това означава малко над линията на мизерията. Гордън просто не желае „да го закачат“.
  В символ на неговата война със златния телец и еснафския животец се превръща аспидистрата – fleur du mal, непретенциозно саксийно цвете, което приличните, нормални, задомени хора слагат на первазите си, решителен белег, че са додрапали до средния социален слой.
  
  Само че да живееш в доброволна бедност съвсем не означава да живееш спокойно. Особено ако си от материала, от който е направен Гордън – литературно тщеславие, прилична начетеност и много добро познаване на начина, по който живеят заможните хора. Това води до бедност от особен тип – не безпросветната мизерия, в която се раждат, живеят и умират поколения работници от фабриките. В отредената им изначално бедност те успяват да извлекат някаква евтина радост. Гордън обаче не успява да понесе достойно самоналожената сиромашия – липсите го озлобяват до степен на мизантропия, започва да деградира физически, превръща се в дразнещ мрънкач, който отблъсква всеки жест на добронамереност и любов. Неговият враг – богът на парите, се оказва удобно извинение за отказ от всяка безплатна радост в живота. Лесно е да се каже обаче, че Гордън е дразнещ и точка. Феноменът, който представлява, е много правдиво уловен и далеч не е толкова рядък.
  
  Приятелят и покровител Рейвълстоун с неговата социална вина от това, че на този свят има бедни, а той е богат, много напомня на днешната естетика, лицемерно романтизираща бедността. Нещо, към което само човек, който е абсолютно не-беден, би могъл да се стреми.
  
  „Аспидистрата“ е пропита от жлъч книга, изключително остра, социална и хаплива, и това е добре да се знае, ако сте настроени на по-нежна вълна. Да кажем, че ако Мишел Уелбек беше живял през 30-те години на 20 век, когато излиза романа, може би щеше да напише нещо много подобно. На мен такива книги са ми от любимите, защото има феномени, които няма как да покажеш деликатно, без да оголиш зъби. Остротата обаче не пречи на чувствителната трактовка не само на битовите, но и на социалните и психологически измерения на бедността и различните й нюанси.
  
  Попаднах на мнения, че в този роман Оруел се подигравал с дивия капитализъм в най-капиталистическата страна в Европа – Англия. Но според мен е точно обратното – това е книга за неизбежното приемане на реалностите. Самият Оруел го признава – ако искаш да живееш извън правилата на обществото, си или престъпник, или отшелник-светец.
  
  „Всяко интелигентно шестнайсетгодишно момче е социалист. На тая възраст човек не забелязва острието на кукичката, стърчащо изпод апетитната стръв.“
  „Първото следствие от мизерията е, че тя убива способността за мислене.“
  „А бедният не знае как да харчи дори когато се случи да има пари.“
• 
  Jan-Maat

  A novel of London life and the search for integrity in the 1930s. It conjures up the oppressive atmosphere resulting from self inflicted poverty and features the shabbier side of life to the extent that the one brief excursion that the hero and his girlfriend make out of London feels like the explosive escape from a crushing environment.
  
  The story follows a young man who gives up a comfortable job in advertising to work on a not very good poem about how rubbish and tawdry modern life and its amusements are. It is slightly unsatisfying as a novel I think because it can't resolve the problem that it sets up in a satisfactory way, but maybe you might shrug and find that is simply realistic.
• 
  Paul

  3.5 stars rounded up
  One of Orwell’s earlier novels and one he didn’t really like, as he declined to have it reprinted in his lifetime. There are elements of Orwell’s life in this, rather than his personality. This is a biting satire written and set in the mid-1930s. The satire covers what might be called the “rat-race” and the god of money. It is a bitter demolition of lower middle class values as Orwell perceived them. The prose is great, but it is difficult to read, mainly because of the main protagonist Gordon Comstock, who is really not at all likeable, and very irritating. Orwell does seem in his early work to have the ability to write unsympathetic male characters.
  Comstock leaves a good job as an advertising copywriter because of his principles and his desire to make war on the good of money, failing to realise if you are in poverty money becomes much more important. He takes a low paid job in a bookshop and lives in a bedsitting room and struggles to make ends meet. He does have friends. Ravelston is an upper class socialist who publishes a magazine and sometimes publishes Comstock’s rather awful poetry. Ravelston always offers extra support to Comstock in terms of loans, gifts or food, but Comstock’s pride and principles mean he resentfully refuses. There is also Rosemary, Comstock’s girlfriend, whom he treats very badly, feeling resentment towards her as well and not willing to contemplate her paying her own way when they go out. Comstock, despite professing socialism is unable to leave his middle class values behind when it comes to his relationships with women, although he continues to pressurize Rosemary to sleep with him. When he does sell a poem and has a little money he insists on taking his friends out, gets very drunk, assaults Rosemary and gets arrested. He loses his job and ends up in an even lower paid job. The ending is interesting as for me it has a double edge. Is it redemptive? Or is it an indication that there is no escape from the god of money. Orwell writes Comstock’s angst well:
  “Before, he had fought against the money code, and yet he had clung to his wretched remnant of decency. But now it was precisely from decency that he wanted to escape. He wanted to go down, deep down, into some world where decency no longer mattered; to cut the strings of his self-respect, to submerge himself—to sink, as Rosemary had said. It was all bound up in his mind with the thought of being under ground. He liked to think of the lost people, the under-ground people: tramps, beggars, criminals, prostitutes… He liked to think that beneath the world of money there is that great sluttish underworld where failure and success have no meaning; a sort of kingdom of ghosts where all are equal. That was where he wished to be, down in the ghost kingdom, below ambition. It comforted him somehow to think of the smoke-dim slums of South London sprawling on and on, a huge graceless wilderness where you could lose yourself forever”
  Orwell in real life wrote mostly reportage and this is the best way to read him, the early novels were experiments. Comstock does nothing with his principles and seems apolitical. As Orwell says:
  “There will be no revolution in England while there are aspidistras in the windows.”
  Comstock is an angry young man before his time, but vents his anger on those that care for him rather than the capitalist system. Orwell also makes the point that poverty is in no way romantic, a point he makes much more eloquently in his reportage. An aspidistra by the way is a hardy, long-lived house plant, much beloved in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century in middle class British homes. Orwell is using it to symbolize a certain middle class set of attitudes. He does the satire very effectively, so effectively and makes Comstock so unlikeable that the novel is difficult to read.
  
• 
  Mark

  If you have seen the updates you may already realize that I was not overly-keen on Gordon Comstock. Nevertheless the liking or disliking of the hero or heroine of a novel evidently does not in itself negate the quality of the writing and it is certainly true that this novel is a really powerful description of the blanching effect of poverty on the colour of life, of the crippling struggle that the poor underwent between the wars and the pitiful descriptions of scrimping and saving and the sinking sense of worth they brought were bleak and therefore very effective.
  
  There was also real humour here though and Orwell's descriptions of the Comstock family and the demise of their shortlived wealth was really rich, if you'll pardon the inappropriate irony, in imagery as indeed was a great deal of the narrative. This sounds like a dreadful cliche but it is true that with just a few words and a swift pencil sketch he very ably conjures up in the reader's mind the character before you.
  So dire poverty leading to a crushing of expectation and hope, faithful friends, all climaxing in a sort of happy ending...what is there not to like ? Well, Gordon Comstock is unbelievable and I mean that in the sense of not real and his girlfriend's blind fidelity is cloyingly insipid.
  
  The reasons for his declared intention to step out of money and society is never really explained and not really ever lived out. He behaves like the grungy 13 year old who leaves his room in a mess, puts big childishly drawn pictures reading ' Do Not enter ' and ' No grown ups allowed ' on the door but then moans and gripes when his tea isn't ready. Rosemary and his wealthy mate Ravelston nobly stick by him but their fidelity just didn't ring true. His continual rejection of their offers of help and support, his petulant bleatings about how Rosemary's actions towards him were all based on his lack or possession of money, his continual abuse of his poverty-stricken sister's adoration and generosity served only to make him more loathsome and horrendously lacking in self-knowledge.
  
  Orwell has written a powerful description of poverty and its accruing horrors but it is Julia, the sister, who really undergoes this. Comstock, Orwell imagines, always has the safety net of his previous ' Good job' to return to; in the 1930's this seems unlikely. If Ravelston, Julia, his previous employer and most of all Rosemary really loved him they ought to have shaken the pretentious little arse and made him grow up.
  
  Had Comstock been more believable this would have been a four star edging upwards but his character just didn't ring true; he came across as a device which Orwell could use so as to berate society, poverty and the rest. The nigh on saintliness of the three other main protagonists was also out of place in a realistic novel. Their turning of the other cheek or turning a blind eye to Comstock's stupidity and never forcing him to seriously address what he was doing or why, was laziness on the part of Orwell cos had they done so, Orwell himself would have had to find an explanation and I am not sure he had one.
• 
  Pink

  I bloody love Orwell. He's not a perfect author and couldn't keep politics or social commentary out of his fiction, but that's part of his appeal. Yes, he banged on constantly about poverty, or war and far too often revealed his lecharous side. I forgive it all. Orwell had something he wanted to say and he found a way to say it. I don't agree with everything, I'm not blown away by his writing, but I am sad that I've now read all of his stories.
• 
  E. G.

  A Note on the Text
  
  --Keep the Aspidistra Flying
• 
  Malacorda

  Un racconto molto psicologico ma al tempo stesso molto concreto. L'evoluzione psicologica qui narrata ha una vaga somiglianza con quella che si trova ne La cura di Hesse - per lo meno nelle tribolazioni iniziali e nel senso di sollievo del finale - solo che qui c'è molta più immediatezza. C'è anche la dimostrazione pratica di una morale per nulla trascurabile: una scelta fatta perché "bisogna" fare così o perché tutti fanno così è una cosa che non vale niente; una scelta fatta perché la si è sentita e riflettuta e decisa, allora vale tutto. A parte questo, non giudica cosa è giusto o sbagliato, cosa è buono o cattivo: critica, ma senza sputare sentenze.
  
  Sin dall'inizio della lettura sono andata chiedendomi: com'è che quando si parla del romanzo della normalità, della borghesità e anche della mediocrità, tutti esaltano Stoner con trionfali squilli di trombe e invece questo non viene mai - dico mai - nominato?
  
  Se La fattoria degli animali è una racconto non solo invecchiato ma del tutto superato, e se anche 1984 può apparire per certi aspetti invecchiato malino, questo romanzo è stupefacente per la sua attualità e modernità. Di più: quella capacità di preveggenza che di solito si attribuisce a Orwell con riferimento a 1984 - anche se poi andando a vedere nel dettaglio concreto del romanzo non si sa bene a che cosa la si debba riferire - dicevo, quella capacità di preveggenza si manifesta invece qui in modo strabiliante, quasi da novello Nostradamus: nel 1935 Orwell scrive questo romanzo e fa immaginare al suo protagonista (e suo alter ego) gli aerei che sorvolano Londra per bombardarla. Da stare nel 1935 Orwell critica il capitalismo, il consumismo sfrenato e fine a sé stesso e senza via d'uscita, le pubblicità truffaldine e invadenti, l'onnipotenza del dio denaro e il senso di vuoto di milioni di esistenze, critica tutto questo proprio come se lo stesse guardando da stare nel ventunesimo secolo.
  
  "C'è qualche cosa di terribile in Londra la sera; la freddezza, l'essere anonimi, l'isolamento. Sette milioni di persone che, in perenne andirivieni, evitano ogni contatto, appena consapevoli dell'esistenza l'uno dell'altro, come pesci nella vasca di un acquario."
  
  "Chilometri e chilometri di case modeste, solitarie, tutte ad appartamentini e camere in affitto; non focolari, non comunità, ma semplicemente fasci di vite senza senso trascinate da una specie di caos sonnolento in lenta deriva verso la tomba! Vedeva passare uomini come cadaveri deambulanti."
  
  Parlando di un cartellone pubblicitario: "Osserva per un momento la faccia di quel tizio che sembra guardarci con espressione beota. Puoi vedere tutta la nostra civiltà scritta su quella faccia. L'imbecillità, la vacuità, la desolazione della nostra civiltà!"
  
  Nel corso del racconto, di pagina in pagina, di episodio in episodio, la pianta dell'aspidistra viene eletta a simbolo supremo, rappresentante assoluta del borghese e dell'uomo mediocre, e il protagonista la eleva al grado di suo nemico non solo in senso figurato ma anche in senso reale; la vede ad ogni finestra, su ogni davanzale e gli pare letteralmente di vedere un vessillo che sventola. Io di aspidistra non ne ho mai vista una, suppongo che se uno volesse fare una sorta di traduzione ragionata la si potrebbe sostituire con il ficus beniamino: non c'è appartamento, salottino, pianerottolo, ufficio, sala d'attesa, studio dentistico, hall di ingresso in cui il ficus non faccia bella mostra di sé; e se da un lato lo si può associare a un lodevole intento di ingentilire e perfezionare un ambiente, dall'altro non è poi così assurdo associarlo a un vago senso di abbandono e/o polverosità.
  
  Il protagonista è una figura reale, completa e complessa: a tratti insopportabile, a tratti commovente, a volte è irragionevole e altre volte è impossibile non condividerne i punti di vista. E' ovvio di come si tratti di un personaggio fortemente autobiografico, ed è altrettanto ovvio di come sia il frutto di una penna capace di eccellente elaborazione che non si accontenterebbe di spiattellare lì un qualche cliché tanto per compiacersi della creazione letteraria.
  
  La descrizione dei bassifondi e anche di tutta Londra in generale, per quanto l'epoca sia ben differente, è molto dickesiana, e questo è un aspetto che rende ulteriormente piacevole la lettura.
  
  Lettura consigliatissima e che meriterebbe ben maggiore popolarità.
  
  Edit: e aggiungiamola pure, un'immagine di questa aspidistra, dopo tutto un po' di visibilità se l'è meritata.
  
• 
  Rowena

  Wow, what a tiresome book! The reason I even gave it three stars is because it's an Orwell book and, as such, he doesn't disappoint us with his wit, satire and irony. However, the story itself was lacking.Orwell must have been in a very misanthropic mood when he wrote this.
  
  The main character, Gordon, is so depressing and unlikeable; he ties everything to money (for example, it took him an hour to shave one morning because he didn't have enough money). I just got so sick and tired of hearing about how poor he was and how people treated him due to his lack of money (I believe most of the cases were delusion on his part).The fact that he has such an understanding girlfriend is beyond me.
  
  Gordon declares war on money. I think his declaration is misguided as he lives in London and needs money to survive. Also, he hopes to be a famous poet one day so he would get paid from that. I just didn't get his reasoning for declaring war on the 'money god.'
  
  So, in summary, I didn't waste my time reading this book but it's definitely not one I would choose to read again.
• 
  Renée Paule

  "The mistake you make, don't you see, is in thinking one can live in a corrupt society without being corrupt oneself. After all, what do you achieve by refusing to make money? You're trying to behave as though one could stand right outside our economic system. But one can't. One's got to change the system, or one changes nothing."
  
  I thoroughly enjoyed this little book. If you like Orwell you will love Keep the Aspidistra Flying.
• 
  Sarah (Presto agitato)

  Girl problems, money problems, houseplant problems. Things are not going Gordon’s way. Money has become Gordon Comstock’s all-consuming idée fixe (followed closely by aspidistras). Gordon, who comes from “one of those depressing families, so common among the middle-middle classes, in which nothing ever happens,” refuses to be a slave to the “money-god.” He gives up a relatively well paying but soulless job at an advertising agency, a job that furthers the evils of the capitalism that he deplores. He instead deliberately seeks out a position in a bookshop with low pay and no hope of advancement while he struggles at writing his poetry.
  
  At first this decision may appear noble and idealistic, but Gordon rapidly ceases to be a sympathetic character as he mooches money off of his long-suffering and far from wealthy sister and complains nonstop to everyone who will listen about both the evils of money and how difficult it is for him not to have money. As he points out, he isn’t poor enough to experience actual hardship (unlike many in the 1930s), but is poor enough that everything from socializing with friends to courting his girlfriend to writing poetry to having a cup of tea without having to hide it from the landlady is nearly impossible.
  
  His lack of money, which is at least partially self-inflicted, becomes Gordon’s excuse for all that he has failed to achieve in his life. His endless whining is so pervasive that you want to shake him. Gordon is hardly the most charming of protagonists, but his tragic fall and relationship with his saintly girlfriend, Rosemary, are still compelling, largely due to Orwell’s vivid characterizations.
  
  Keep the Aspidistra Flying is not nearly as aggressively political as Orwell’s more famous works. The novel is more concerned with interpersonal relationships, but still addresses the larger issues of capitalism, socialism, and class division in a darkly humorous manner.
• 
  Carlo Mascellani

  Scegliere il proprio sogno e condurre una vita spesso sofferta o sceglier la rassicurante prospettiva di una vita standardizzata, già tracciata, nella quale la personalità sbiadisce sino a svanire e solo rimane un sentore profondamente impersonale? Un Orwell cantore della libertà personale, delle seducenti lusinghe che la vita borghese esterna, di un conflitto che vede ognuno di noi impegnato a comprendere (e scegliere) chi realmente vuol essere. Un libro per chi sogna di scrivere, per chi sogna di poter sognare, per chi, semplicemente, sogna.
• 
  Julie

  "The Primrose Quarterly was one of those poisonous literary papers in which the fashionable Nancy Boy and the professional Roman Catholic walk bras dessous, bras dessous. It was also by a long way the most influential literary paper in England. You were a made man once you had a poem in it."
  
  Gordon is a principled poet. We follow him through his coming of age, first employment, first love and gradual downfall. At times, his pride and his war on money become tiresome. Overall though, the descriptive language, quirky well-drawn characters, and the exploration on settling for the financial reward for a 'good job' versus pursuing dreams through the arts, which doesn't pay a living wage are interesting.
  
  I felt very badly for Gordon's long-suffering sister, Julia who works in a dingy bakery and makes sacrifices for Gordon's education and continues to fund him afterwards from her meager savings. She is suppressed, so that he might soar. Sadly, he does not reach great heights, rather he sinks through his own "mad perverseness" before coming to the realization of what he must do to survive.
  
  Gordon observes that his relatives "seemed to want to see every young man in England nailed down in the coffin of a 'good job.'" Gordon wants to "get out of the money world." He has no real plan and cannot answer the question of how he is going to make a living.
  
  "Vaguely he looked forward to some sort of moneyless anchorite existence. He had a feeling that if you genuinely despise money you can keep going somehow like the birds of the air."
  
  However, birds don't need money for rent or food. After seven months of trying to live on his writing alone he learns that "the first effect of poverty is that you lose thought." He has written practically nothing during these desperate months.
  
  Finally, he succumbs to getting a job writing ads for things such as deodorant. He does well for a while, and even earns a raise. However, he wrestles with his conscience as he believes he is "writing lies to tickle the money out of fool's pockets." He decides that he must get out of his current situation and get "some kind of job, not a 'good job' but a job that would keep his body without wholly buying his soul."
  
  Later, after much suffering through life events and tortured thinking, Gordon philosophizes about how others view the 'money-code.' He declares that the way the lower middle class "interpreted it was not merely cynical and hoggish. They had their standards, their inviolable points of honor. They kept themselves respectable, kept the aspidistra [the tree of life] flying."
  
  Gordon comes to the final conclusion that "he is merely repeating the destiny of every human being. Everyone rebels against the money-code and everyone sooner or later surrenders."
• 
  Nood-Lesse

  La bizzarra sensazione di essere appena diventato adulto
  
  Dopo aver messo il libro in lettura ho chiesto a cinque persone diverse se sapessero che cosa fosse un’aspidistra e nessuna di esse ha saputo rispondermi. Che parola aspra, pare una professione rettilea. Nemmeno io sapevo di che cosa si trattasse e a fine lettura, quando ne ho cercato l’immagine su Google, sono rimasto assai sorpreso
  
  
  
  Io questa pianta la conoscevo ma ne ignoravo il nome, ed è vero che quarant’anni fa era assai diffusa anche qui da noi (*1). George Orwell la identifica come simbolo borghese degli anni ’30 del 900. A proposito di quegli anni scrive
  
  Pensano, ancora! Non importa. Ma a che cosa pensano? Ai quattrini, accidenti, ai quattrini pensano! Affitto, conti arretrati, bolletta della luce e del gas, tasse, rette scolastiche, abbonamento ferroviario, scarpe per i bambini. E alla polizza d’assicurazione sulla vita, pensano, e al salario della domestica. E, mio Dio, guai se la moglie dovesse restare incinta un’altra volta!
  “Pensano al fitto, ai conti, a gas e luce, Alle rate, alle tasse ed al carbone, Allo stipendio della serva pensano, Alle rette scolastiche, alle scarpe.“
  
  A me ha fatto pensare ad un altro monologo famoso scritto cinquant’anni dopo da un altro scrittore anglofono e probabilmente ispirato da quello Orwelliano
  
  Scegli il mutuo da pagare, la lavatrice, la macchina; scegli di startene seduto su un divano a guardare i giochini alla televisione, a distruggerti il cervello e l’anima, a riempirti la pancia di porcherie che ti avvelenano. Scegli di marcire in un ospizio, cacandoti e pisciandoti sotto, cazzo, per la gioia di quegli stronzi egoisti e fottuti che hai messo al mondo. Scegli la vita.
  
  Orwell chiama Welsh, Welsh chiama Boyle: rispondi Boyle
  
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8tq4...
  
  Dagli anni trenta del ‘900 agli anni venti del nuovo millennio: vivere integrati nella società che ci ospita ha sempre causato contrasti e nevrosi severe. Orwell racconta di Gordon Comstock, uno scrittore trentenne che ha dichiarato guerra al dio quattrino, che decide di vivere in uno stato di indigenza rinunciando al proprio lavoro di pubblicitario per non sottostare alla spirale che impone di lavorare di più per guadagnare di più ed essere allo stesso tempo sfruttati maggiormente. Gordon è amico di Philip Ravelston il direttore della rivista alterativa “Anticristo”; costui è un personaggio paradigmatico e ricorrente in tutte le forme di protesta sociale: il ricco che si vergogna della propria ricchezza e la usa finanziando la lotta a fianco del povero (altro personaggio paradigmatico) che invidia la diseguaglianza che sta combattendo, che odia il privilegiato ma in segreto adora il privilegio. Gordon viene da una famiglia borghese caduta in disgrazia, lui non ha desideri di rivalsa, si impone invece di rinunciare al superfluo e inizia un percorso di abbruttimento che lo porterà a vivere in una stamberga e a lavorare come commesso in una libreria che vende volumetti a prezzo fisso. In questo quadro ha rilevanza il fatto che Gordon si senta uno scrittore alle prese con il capolavoro che lo rivelerà al mondo intero: “Piaceri londinesi“ e che sia fidanzato con una donna che non gliela dà (a sentir lui perché è privo di quattrini). I quattrini (il traduttore usa sempre questo sinonimo) amati e odiati come le aspidistre sui davanzali delle finestre borghesi, sono il simbolo del capitalismo che Comstock e Ravelston (il marxista) combattono in modo diverso. La parte del romanzo che mi ha divertito di più è stata quella in cui Gordon ricevuto un anticipo di cinquanta dollari da parte di una rivista letteraria californiana e convertiteli in valuta, li sperpera in una sola nottata come non sarebbe riuscito a fare neppure Pinocchio. Il finale del romanzo ricorda un po’ quello scritto da Carlo Collodi, ma ha una sua coerenza. Ora guarderò con occhi diversi un’aspidistra se mai mi capiterà di vederla come mi capitava spesso quando ero piccolo e non sospettavo che i simboli della borghesia fossero penetrati fin dentro casa mia.
  
  (*1)
  
  https://passioneinverde.edagricole.it...
  
• 
  Kim

  
  According to
  Gordon Bowker, this is one of the novels Orwell wanted his literary executor to suppress after his death. That’s a clear indication of how Orwell felt about the novel and it’s fair to say that it’s not his strongest work. However, it still has a lot going for it, in particular black humour, sharp satire and a window into Orwell’s own life.
  
  Having recently read Bowker’s
  biography of Orwell, I particularly appreciated the autobiographical elements of the novel, which otherwise would have been lost on me. The novel is Orwell at his most autobiographical. The main protagonist, Gordon Comstock, has a similar “lower upper middle class” background to Orwell. Like Orwell, Gordon rejects the values of his family and social class, turning against what he describes as “the money-god”. He forsakes a hated “good job” in order to pursue a writing career, just as Orwell gave up a career in the Imperial Police Force in Burma to become a writer. Gordon works in a secondhand bookstore - as did Orwell - and his descent into poverty is based on Orwell’s experiences living among the unemployed and the destitute.
  
  For me, one of the major weaknesses of the work is that Gordon’s rage against middle class values becomes rather tedious (although to be fair, that may have been part of the point Orwell wanted to make). Another is that it’s hard to believe that Gordon’s long-suffering girlfriend, Rosemary, would persist in her devotion to someone so determinedly unattractive. On balance, though, the strengths of the work outweigh the weaknesses. When you get down to it, Orwell’s wonderful prose makes everything he wrote worth reading.
  
  I listened to an audiobook edition narrated by Richard E Grant. His narration could not be faulted and I’d probably listen to him reading the bus timetable.
  
• 
  Nigeyb

  Prior to reading this I had just read
  Coming Up for Air (1939) and
  The Clergyman's Daughter (1935)
  
  I adored
  Coming Up for Air.
  The Clergyman's Daughter was also very good
  
  My expectations were therefore fairly high for
  Keep the Aspidistra Flying (1936)
  
  Sadly it's not as good as either of the aforementioned books. Protagonist Gordon Comstock is tedious and implausible and constantly bemoans the consequences of his decisions. The ending was predictable and, whilst anything by Orwell is well worth reading, this is not up there with his best work.
  
  3/5
  
  
• 
  Mahdi Lotfi

  کتاب درخت زندگی به پستی و بلندی های زندگی انسان می پردازد. جرج اورول از نویسندگان مشهور انگلیسی است و این کتاب از جمله چندین کتاب وی است که در سال های 1948 برای اولین بار به چاپ رسید.
• 
  Matīss

  Jūs noteikti esat redzējuši to čali, kas brauc ar divriteni un grūž sprunguli spieķos. Šis romāns ir par viņu. Gordons Komstoks ir īsts mizantropijas un pasīvās agresijas korifejs. Viņš riteņa spieķos spēj iegrūst arī visas savas piecas ekstremitātes un arī galvu piedevām. Taču attaisnojumus viņš atrast māk, viņš ir profesionāls upuris, turklāt ar dzejnieka misiju, tāpēc viņa pretmietpilsoniskās tirādes ir bauda lasīt, jo runā viņš skarbi, rupji un nežēlīgi, tomēr spēcīgā un, nebaidos teikt, skaistā valodā.
  Lai arī dzīvē tik krass notikumu pavērsiens kā romāna beigās ir gana iespējams, tomēr grāmatās parasti uz to notiek laicīga lasītāja gatavināšana un uzvedināšana, tāpēc šis pagrieziens man likās mazliet par strauju un tam noticēju ar nelielu piespiešanos.
  Interesants pēcvārds. Izrādās, ka šī izdevuma lasītājiem ir laimējies, jo tas ir tulkots no izdevuma, kas ir pēc atjaunots pēc iespējas tuvāk sākotnējam romāna variantam, pirmo izdevumu krietni pakorektēja (lasi - pacenzēja), turklāt ar prasību - lai nemainītos rakstu zīmju skaits. Teksta salikums jau bijis gatavs un neies tak jāties vēlreiz. Orvels, protams, bija milzu sajūsmā.
  Tiem, kam patīk dusmās mest grāmatas pret sienu, šī būs pašā laikā.
• 
  Chris_P

  Our civilization is founded on greed and fear, but in the lives of common men the greed and fear are mysteriously transmuted into something nobler.

  
  This is the story of a thirty-year-old man with issues. That's as simple a description as it gets. Simple is no good in this case though. Indeed, Orwell delivers a complex novel not so much in a literary sense, as in a psychological one. Gordon is an anti-hero whose issues revolve around money. Money is the key word here. If I had to describe him without getting too much into his character, I'd say he is one lucky son of a bitch who keeps kicking his luck away. He quits his very good job only because he doesn't want to be a slave to money. He keeps risking losing his girlfriend who loves him despite all his whims and his ill-tempered manners toward her that always have to do with his not having enough money. He also constantly tests the patience of his only friend, a loaded marxist who has a different kind of money complex. Yet, his former boss is always willing to give him back the job, his girlfriend is always understanding and never gives him a hard time about his reluctance to make money, and his friend never seems to be able to get mad at him. So big is their loyalty that one can only wonder about their motives. Afterall it's not easy banging your heart against some mad bugger's wall.
  
  With the pretence of willing to make money out of his poetry, Gordon has decided to hit bottom. He actually craves to bury himself deep in the mud of poverty. Because it's either that or he is a cog in the machine of capitalism. And that's where my objection is. I wanted Orwell to assume a stance. Instead, he seems to support the aforementioned dilemma. Maybe it was my idea but that was how I perceived it. Admittedly, he is spot on, concerning the way commercialism works and what it can do to the psyche of someone who has "seen the Matrix". However, he seems to let his well-known pessimism take over which would be alright if only he, as an author, gave at least a glimmer of hope in the light of a big idea. But no such thing occurs. That said, it's still a very moving novel that goes deep into the characters' minds while describing a reality that's ever-present one way or the other.