I thought I'd read this 33 years ago for my GCSE English Lit project on Orwell, but it didn't seem at all familiar. I know I read Burmese Days, maybe it was Keep The Aspidistra Flying. I've always preferred Orwell's essays and reportage to his novels though, and even Animal Farm and 1984 I don't think I've read since I was a teenager. It was much more nostalgic than I expected, not overly-sentimental, harking back to a simpler, Edwardian England of certainty and continuity rather than the late 1930's world of travelling salesmen, mock tudor bars and mechanised warfare Orwell bemoans.
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