Keep the Aspidistra Flying by George Orwell

I actually first read this when I was 19 and, for the first time, living in what I considered poverty. It was so liberating to be on my own, living the life of what I considered to be that of a starving artist. This was in 2005 in Decatur, Illinois when the economy wasn't actually so bad.

My friend Tyler gave me the book and said it reminded him of me. For the longest time, I wasn't entirely sure why. Keep the Aspidistra Flying somewhat satirizes a decided starving artist in a late-stage capitalist society. Only our protagonist, Gordon Comstock, is miserably obsessed with money. He is annoying, tacky, and likely not cut out to be a poet.

Gordon couldn't very well write, when distracted by the need for cigarettes he couldn't afford. While it's a relatable situation, I know know that's not why this book reminded Tyler of me. In a way, I do believe when people have an excess money, they endow themselves with a certain level of importance. Why not? On the clock, in terms of dollars, none of us are equally valuable. And many adults lose sight of their value outside of their employment.

Of course, Gordon Comstock needed a job of some kind. Not a good job, as he determined. The money gods couldn't rule him. I haven't thought a lot about money in my own adult life. Does that make me lucky? My early 20s were pretty rough. Productivity was difficult when I couldn't actually afford to survive. Still with money, there's either enough or not enough. If there's, then I should less spend time at my job. Not an especially good job. It seems late stage capitalism here in the states is not so dehumanizing is it was in Britain in the 1930s.

Gordon had a love interest, though. Considering the risk, she wasn't prepared to go all the way with him. She couldn't make him give up his chosen lifestyle for a child, should one be produced. If he wanted to be broke, then he should be broke. Gordon blamed the power of money. He couldn't get laid because he didn't have money.

When I was a teenager, I didn't have a car. I didn't drive. My parents were neither generous or trusting. So I was not very date-able outside of holding hands at school. Of course I was a hopeless romantic. And RANDY. I was like Beavis, freaking out on the bus over the concern that he may never score. My mind was twisted by my obsessive need for romantic affection.

At times I took out my frustration on the idea of money. It seemed like romantic relations were denied to me simply because of my circumstances. And I realize, this pattern of need and blame has applied to so many aspects of my life. That is why this book reminded Tyler of me.