Down and Out

Yesterday I bought a used copy of George Orwell's Down and Out in London and Paris. Sadly, one thing that is not cheap in Thailand is books in English. Goods and areas designed for locals are cheaper, of course, while those for tourists are more expensive. And I don't think many locals are interested in books in English. I paid 160 bhat, about five dollars, which would be a mediocre buy at a used bookstore in America.

But what a book! Orwell is funny, humane without preaching, and cruel at the right moments (talking about a friend with whom he travelled for a month: "He had the regular character of a tramp - abject, envious, a jackal's character. Nevertheless, he was a good fellow..."). You hear about compassion being essential to literature, but I think cruelty is just as important. It's what makes Flaubert and Flannery O'Connor great. It's why Biggie will always be infinitely better than Tupac.

Question: What book would you most like to have written?

Answer: Down and Out. I could say Lolita or Moby Dick, but what would be the point? I couldn't write those books and still be me. In fact, I can't wrap my mind around how a human can write a novel, even a bad one. They're so long, and what, you just make it all up? Next time you're reading a novel and reach the end of a page, try pausing and thinking how you would continue the story. When I do this my mind goes completely blank. I can't think of anything at all. But someone like me could, I think, write something like Down and Out. I would have to be very lucky to ever make something a third as good, but the idea of it, the approach, makes sense to me.