Last week I talked about my love for Post Office and then trailed off into something. This week I’d like to preach about other great books that I enjoy. I thought about twenty different topics while coming up with the one for last week. I can remember at least five. Not sure that I will get there by the end, but we can hope.
Lets start with a cliché book that most of us were forced to read in school, but I actually enjoyed. Not in school, but years later. I have this weird thing where if you tell me to read something… Well I’m not… I mean by force. By all means keep suggesting titles. I do check those out. I had the same problem in gym. I’ll run a fucking mile when I want to run a fucking mile. Put the stop watch away already damn….The book is called Animal Farm by George Orwell.
Even though I’m really into history. That isn’t why I like the book. Strip that all away. Stripe away that it is about government, countries, and all that political shit. Do you still like the book? That is why I love this book. I like all the political stuff and find all of it more fascinating than I have time to get into right now, but most of all I love the simplicity of the story. I am overwhelmed with wonder at the way George Orwell’s story about a farm could be so powerful on the surface. Which is why I didn’t like this book in school.
In school we lost this. We lost the simplicity of the story because they wanted to teach us something. The deeper meaning of it all. But that’s the fucking thing about Animal Farm. The story is so simple that it natural teaches you something. It sticks with you and when you look back on it as you grow older… As you grow older it is like a bomb going off in your head.
Now that I am so removed from school. Now that I have been in the world. Lived in this world. Animal Farm speaks louder to me than ever before. Each character is someone we know. I work with a Clover, I’m bossed around by a Napoleon, I happily champion for a Snowball, we all know a Squealer, and I am Boxer. At my job I am the work horse. At work if they want something done they call me in. I knock it out and I move on. And like Boxer I am often left behind.
I am treated as though I am stupid. As though Ambrose couldn’t get it. Here go throw another case or go do this. I carry people on my back. I help everyone around me for the greater good. So that everyone can have an easier time at work. I can do it so why not? Because it isn’t fair. That isn’t how life should work. Everyone should be pulling their own weight when it comes to the job. Problem is that often this doesn’t happen. Once established as a Boxer always going to be a Boxer. No matter how hard I try to break free from this role. I am what I am. We all have our place in this fucked up farm.
Okay now insert all that political under tone and what you have is a great fucking book. A book that as a writer I hold above me as a bench mark. Can I write something this fucking good. No, but I’m going to try until I do. Because the world needs a work horse and if I have to make a fucking windmill to do it. I’ll make a fucking windmill to do.