(written by Terry MacNeil, on March 20-22, 2025)

Today, I finished reading Orwell’s Roses – a biography about George Orwell, by Rebecca Solnit. I read the novels Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four in high school, and I read Homage to Catalonia around the time I became an anarcho-communist. But I never got the impression (from what I knew of Orwell) that his life had been interesting. Yeah, Orwell fought in a Marxist (more specifically Trotskyite) unit in the Spanish Civil War – and I considered his experiences in that war (which comprise his book Homage to Catalonia) to be captivating. BUT his time as a soldier in that war was (relatively) brief. And since a large chunk of his life was spent as a writer – any biographer of Orwell is faced with the fact that WHAT HE BELIEVED AND WROTE ABOUT is WAY MORE INTERESTING than the activities he did during HIS ACTUAL DAY-TO-DAY LIFE. Well, when it comes to writing itself – you’re thinking and writing/typing, which in itself is an uninteresting spectacle to behold. Although, Karl Marx sounds like he MIGHT have been an exception – and I’m not saying he was manic-depressive, but I have heard he’d write with an output of physical energy that could be described as “manic”.

I’ve actually read more autobiographies than biographies. Still, I haven’t read many celebrity memoirs – but I’ve read enough of them to have detected the pattern they follow. And the vast majority of these celebrity memoirs is little more than a long list of encounters with other celebrities (from random run-ins to collaborations on shared projects – whether a movie, an album, a fundraiser, a concert, etc). So the celebrity memoir is (typically) little more than non-stop name-dropping of other famous people. I’m assuming that’s the main reason Audrey Hepburn never wrote a memoir – though long ago I did read Barry Paris’ biography of her (a book that followed much the same pattern of a celebrity memoir). The only reason I didn’t find Paris’ biography boring – was because I was (and still am) a fan of (most of) Audrey’s movies.

That said, Orwell’s Roses might be the most enjoyable biography I’ve ever read – mainly because of the frequent digressions by Solnit. First, it must be emphasized that gardening is the way Orwell spent a lot of his time – and a lot of his writing was about gardening. As for me, gardening is one of THE LAST things I’d ever want to do. As for Solnit’s digressions, she would often stop writing about Orwell, and typically spend a few pages writing about other gardeners throughout history (with focus on various commonalities between them). For many of these digressions, Solnit wrote about people (some of whom weren’t gardeners) that had never met (let alone known) Orwell. Other digressions centre not on specific people, but on gardening itself (especially aspects of its commodification). But it must be said – these digressions result in a much richer biography. Through the lens of gardening (even with regard to brutes like Joseph Stalin who loved to show off his gardens, while having zero interest in tending them himself) we are better able to understand why gardening is a passion for so many – with particular emphasis on Orwell’s passion. And because of Solnit’s many digressions, we are able to get a deeper SENSE of Orwell himself (at least with regard to things he left unsaid about himself).

Also, major props to Solnit for FREQUENTLY quoting Marxists (for their historical research) throughout her book (and without feeling the need to be constantly condemning them). Well, she condemns various murderous Stalinists (for good reason). But as an anarchist, I found it refreshing to read a book that in many ways is about socialism – without feeling the need to belittle socialism. Solnit even had praise for Peter Kropotkin and Emma Goldman! Kudos. Ⓐ