“Dull-eyed he gazed at the wall of books. He hated the whole lot of them. Old and new, highbrow and lowbrow, snooty and chirpy. The mere sight of them brought home to him his own sterility. For here he was supposedly a ‘writer’, and he couldn’t even write. It wasn’t merely a question of notContinue reading “RKS British Literature: A Frustrated Writer Blames Lack of Creativity on Lack of Money (George Orwell)”
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