Orwell’s Roses by Rebecca Solnit
My search for beauty on a February afternoon darkened by a lowering ceiling of threat against freedom led me to my library. Luckily, I live in a gayborhood, so there is a wonderful dedicated aisle centering the written expression of LGBTQ voices. I allowed my fingers to explore the spines of this extensive local collection and tuck a couple under my arm for accompaniment before I turned to wander.
I meander the labyrynth of shelves wondering, what can I do in this time that seems to be closing in on us? What is my part of the work in resisting the accelerating impingement of actual authoritarianism? Why does it seem many people didn’t believe what is happening right now was possible? What do I need to know now?
In a pause, my gaze settles on a pink and red hardcover revealing the name of a favorite author, one whose work makes me want to put my pen down and stop trying to write, though I know she wouldn’t get behind that at all. What a strange book to stumble across in such a moment of existential anxiety when it seems so many people believe knowing all the dangers Orwell warned us about could inoculate us from them: Orwell’s Roses.
A wandering, climbing rose of a book itself, Rebecca Solnit’s exploration of the tension between the universal human desire for freedom and beauty and an opposing presence of institutional control winds through the structures of George Orwell’s work, his life and its rich context, and multiple takes on one of the many plants the author cultivated in the gardens of his life: roses.
This vining collection of brief essays, neatly clustered into organized sprays, inspires a reader towards the necessity of beauty, perhaps especially in the shadow of looming spectre, and a reminder that our human family has been here before.
An Orwell quote opens Ta-Nehisi Coates’ recent genius The Message which I’ve been putting off writing to you about.
“In a peaceful age I might have written ornate or merely descriptive books, and might have remained almost unaware of my political loyalties. As it is I have been forced into becoming a sort of pamphleteer.”
Among my many amusements in reading Roses was noticing how many people are named “Rose” in the stories. I didn’t know that Orwell was a pen name, nor that the author died young of TB.
In concluding the book, I am a degree rejuvenated. I don’t know if my ideas are pamphlet-worthy, but I’m inspired to keep trying, to continue resisting, and to look for and embrace beauty where I can find it. I hope you can too.
Solnit is on our side. Our current situation recently pushed her into launching a newsletter she’d been considering, but holding out on, for some time. You can subscribe to her thoughts on solidarity at https://www.meditationsinanemergency.com/
