The British public already knew Orwell as the socially conscious author of Down and Out in London and Parisa nonfiction study of poverty, homelessness, unemployment, and subsistence living on poorly-paying menial jobs, and Burmese Daysa novel of British colonialism. The narrator does not want to shoot the elephant, but feels compelled to by a crowd of indigenous residents, before whom he does not wish to appear indecisive or cowardly. Both sides feel hatred, distrust, and resentment. The situation is universally degrading.
Forty-nine of us, forty-eight men and one woman, lay on the green waiting for the spike to open. We were too tired to talk much. We just sprawled about exhaustedly, with home-made cigarettes sticking out of our scrubby faces.
Overhead the chestnut branches were covered with blossom, and beyond that great woolly clouds floated almost motionless in a clear sky.
Littered on the grass, we seemed dingy, urban riff-raff. We defiled the scene, like sardine-tins and paper bags on the seashore. What talk there was ran on the Tramp Major of this spike.
He was a devil, everyone agreed, a tartar, a tyrant, a bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog. You couldn't call your soul your own when he was about, and many a tramp had he kicked out in the middle of the night for giving a back answer. When You, came to be searched, he fair held you upside down and shook you.
If you were caught with tobacco there was bell to. Pay, and if you went in with money which is against the law God help you. I had eightpence on me. You'd get seven days for going into the spike with eightpence! Then we set about smuggling our matches and tobacco, for it is forbidden to take these into nearly all spikes, and one is supposed to surrender them at the gate.
We hid them in our socks, except for the twenty or so per cent who had no socks, and had to carry the tobacco in their boots, even under their very toes. We stuffed our ankles with contraband until anyone seeing us might have imagined an outbreak of elephantiasis.
But is an unwritten law that even the sternest Tramp Majors do not search below the knee, and in the end only one man was caught. This was Scotty, a little hairy tramp with a bastard accent sired by cockney out of Glasgow.
His tin of cigarette ends fell out of his sock at the wrong moment, and was impounded. At six, the gates swung open and we shuffled in. An official at the gate entered our names and other particulars in the register and took our bundles away from us.
The woman was sent off to the workhouse, and we others into the spike.
It was a gloomy, chilly, limewashed place, consisting only of a bathroom and dining-room and about a hundred narrow stone cells. The terrible Tramp Major met us at the door and herded us into the bathroom to be stripped and searched.
He was a gruff, soldierly man of forty, who gave the tramps no more ceremony than sheep at the dipping-pond, shoving them this way and that and shouting oaths in their faces.Critical Analysis of “Shooting an Elephant” by George Orwell Essay Sample.
In George Orwell’s essay “Shooting an Elephant,” the author’s character develops from the pressure to make a decision and the horrifying results which follow. Blair hated the school and many years later wrote an essay "Such, Such Were the Joys", published posthumously, based on his time there.
At St Cyprian's, Blair first met Cyril Connolly, . These notes were contributed by members of the GradeSaver community. We are thankful of their contributions and encourage you to make your own. In many of George Orwell’s more autobiographical essays (“Such, Such were the Joys”, “Shooting an Elephant”, “A Hanging”) some details are.
George Orwell, best known for his novels Animal Farm and , was also an accomplished and experienced essayist.
Among his most powerful essays is the autobiographical essay "Shooting an Elephant," which Orwell based on his experience as a police officer in colonial Burma. Shooting An Elephant.
An essay by George Orwell, first published in the literary magazine New Writing in In Moulmein, in Lower Burma, I was hated by large numbers of people – the only time in my life that I have been important enough for this to happen to me.
That it an analysis and a comparison of shooting an elephant and such such were the joys by george orwell holds no records of such an analysis ever being performed on its public comment system; the agency claims that Latest breaking news.
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