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George Orwell is unique in his ability to reveal various social problems without ever ceasing to be thoroughly entertaining. He not only exposes poverty but reveals the eccentric characters that inhabit it. And since he lived in this shabby wilderness of a hotel, he was part of this tattered, diverse and downtrodden community. I can’t help wonder what they thought of him. His handsome looks, those probing, deep gazing eyes of his. Someone who never quite seems at home or out of place. An ability to be both inside and outside any situation at the same time. I read once about tough times he had in his youth at a boarding school. A total hellcat of a headmistress. A youth without joy, a scholarship student who was expected to perform for the reputation and good name of the institution. A situation guaranteed to produce a confident exterior , yet a secret and guarded interior. His inner self was often inaccessible to others. Which is probably key to his writing style. This small morsel has me hungering for more.

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