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Homage to Catalonia, 1938
- Lady Ronit
- Feb 2
- 2 min read
George Orwell’s memoirs from the guerra civil española were the last book about armed conflict I read this year. They were the final straw, I admit, to the point that I gave up even reading newspapers. How much can one take?
Boredom on the front, children in uniforms falling asleep in the cold because it’s cheaper to place an orphan in the army than in an orphanage. Fascists, anarchists, POUM, and communism. Above all, a lack of weapons, insufficient food, and inadequate equipment. Totalitarianism and deserters, stray bullets, and outdated armament. Mausers from 1896 and the floating air of revolutionary solidarity. Equality, temporary and fleeting, as typical of a group isolated from the rest of society.
I was most intrigued by the scenes involving child soldiers and the fleeting equality that briefly reigned in Spain. At first, George Orwell sees himself as an equal, but the narrative ends with him hiding from repression under the guise of a bourgeois. Shortly after the egalitarian phase of the war, the old, sweet divisions return. Once again, the safest way to move around is in a fine suit and hat. Money regains its power to command respect.
Interestingly, during the guerra civil española, the number of prostitutes decreased, which surprises me greatly because wartime usually sees a rise in demand for quick money and fleeting intimacy. Yet, in a communist world, this couldn’t function—how would equality look under such a transactional system?
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