Books > Humor And Entertainment > Product: 219767

Animal Farm: 1984

Product Description

Imported from USA

From the Inside Flap
--------------------

ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL
BUT SOME ANIMALS ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS

George Orwell's classic satire of the Russian Revolution is the account of the bold struggle, initiated by the animals,
that transforms Mr. Jones's Manor Farm into Animal Farm--a wholly democratic society built on the credo that All Animals
Are Created Equal. Out of their cleverness, the pigs Napoleon, Squealer, and Snowball emerge as leaders of the new
community in a subtle evolution that proves disastrous. The climax is the brutal betrayal of the faithful horse Boxer,
when totalitarian rule is re-established with the bloodstained postscript to the founding slogan: But Some Animals Are
More Equal Than Others.

WAR IS PEACE. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY. IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.

In 1984, London is a grim city where Big Brother is always watching you and the Thought Police can practically read your
mind. Winston is a man in grave danger for the simple reason that his memory still functions. Drawn into a forbidden
love affair, Winston finds the courage to join a secret revolutionary organization called The Brotherhood, dedicated to
the destruction of the Party. Together with his beloved Julia, he hazards his life in a deadly match against the powers
that be.

Read more ( javascript:void(0) )

From the Back Cover
-------------------

"The two novels that you now hold in your hands have become 'modern classics'. . . taught in many schools as examples of
moral weight and political prescience . . . read for pleasure, excitement and instruction." -- from the Introduction by
Christopher Hitchens

PRAISE FOR ANIMAL FARM

"A wise, compassionate, and illuminating fable." -- The New York Times

"Absolutely first-rate . . . comparable to Voltaire and Swift." -- The New Yorker

"There are no replacements for a George Orwell, just as there are no replacements for a Bernard Shaw or a Mark Twain. .
. . he pricked, provoked and badgered lazy minds, delighted those who enjoyed watching an orginal intelligence at work."
-- Time

PRAISE FOR 1984

"1984 is a profound, terrifying, and wholly fascinating book. It is a fantasy of the political future, and like any such
fantasy, serves its author as a magnifying device for an examination of the present." -- Lionel Trilling 1949

"The most solid, the most brilliant, thing George Orwell has done." -- V.S. Pritchett

Read more ( javascript:void(0) )

About the Author
----------------

GEORGE ORWELL (1903–1950) was born in India and served with the Imperial Police in Burma before joining the Republican
Army in the Spanish Civil War. Orwell was the author of six novels as well as numerous essays and nonfiction works.

CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS is the author of four collections of essays.

Read more ( javascript:void(0) )

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
--------------------------------------------------------

MR. JONES, OF THE Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the
popholes. With the ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard, kicked off his
boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer from the barrel in the scullery, and made his way up to bed,
where Mrs. Jones was already snoring.

As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a fluttering all through the farm buildings. Word
had gone round during the day that old Major, the prize Middle White boar, had had a strange dream on the previous night
and wished to communicate it to the other animals. It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon
as Mr. Jones was safely out of the way. Old Major (so he was always called, though the name under which he had been
exhibited was Willingdon Beauty) was so highly regarded on the farm that everyone was quite ready to lose an hour's
sleep in order to hear what he had to say.

At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was already ensconced on his bed of straw, under a
lantern which hung from a beam. He was twelve years old and had lately grown rather stout, but he was still a
majestic-looking pig, with a wise and benevolent appearance in spite of the fact that his tushes had never been cut.
Before long the other animals began to arrive and make themselves comfortable after their different fashions. First came
the three dogs, Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher, and then the pigs, who settled down in the straw immediately in front of
the platform. The hens perched themselves on the windowsills, the pigeons fluttered up to the rafters, the sheep and
cows lay down behind the pigs and began to chew the cud. The two cart-horses, Boxer and Clover, came in together,
walking very slowly and setting down their vast hairy hoofs with great care lest there should be some small animal
concealed in the straw. Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had never quite got her figure
back after her fourth foal. Boxer was an enormous beast, nearly eighteen hands high, and as strong as any two ordinary
horses put together. A white stripe down his nose gave him a somewhat stupid appearance, and in fact he was not of
first-rate intelligence, but he was universally respected for his steadiness of character and tremendous powers of work.
After the horses came Muriel, the white goat, and Benjamin, the donkey. Benjamin was the oldest animal on the farm, and
the worst tempered. He seldom talked, and when he did, it was usually to make some cynical remark-for instance, he would
say that God had given him a tail to keep the flies off, but that he would sooner have had no tail and no flies. Alone
among the animals on the farm he never laughed. If asked why, he would say that he saw nothing to laugh at.
Nevertheless, without openly admitting it, he was devoted to Boxer; the two of them usually spent their Sundays together
in the small paddock beyond the orchard, grazing side by side and never speaking.

The two horses had just lain down when a brood of ducklings, which had lost their mother, filed into the barn, cheeping
feebly and wandering from side to side to find some place where they would not be trodden on. Clover made a sort of wall
round them with her great foreleg, and the ducklings nestled down inside it and promptly fell asleep. At the last moment
Mollie, the foolish, pretty white mare who drew Mr. Jones's trap, came mincing daintily in, chewing at a lump of sugar.
She took a place near the front and began flirting her white mane, hoping to draw attention to the red ribbons it was
plaited with. Last of all came the cat, who looked round, as usual, for the warmest place, and finally squeezed herself
in between Boxer and Clover; there she purred contentedly throughout Major's speech without listening to a word of what
he was saying.

All the animals were now present except Moses, the tame raven, who slept on a perch behind the back door. When Major
saw that they had all made themselves comfortable and were waiting attentively, he cleared his throat and began:

"Comrades, you have heard already about the strange dream that I had last night. But I will come to the dream later. I
have something else to say first. I do not think, comrades, that I shall be with you for many months longer, and before
I die, I feel it my duty to pass on to you such wisdom as I have acquired. I have had a long life, I have had much time
for thought as I lay alone in my stall, and I think I may say that I understand the nature of life on this earth as well
as any animal now living. It is about this that I wish to speak to you.

"Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face it: our lives are miserable, laborious, and short.
We are born, we are given just so much food as will keep the breath in our bodies, and those of us who are capable of it
are forced to work to the last atom of our strength; and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end we are
slaughtered with hideous cruelty. No animal in England knows the meaning of happiness or leisure after he is a year old.
No animal in England is free. The life of an animal is misery and slavery: that is the plain truth.

"But is this simply part of the order of nature? Is it because this land of ours is so poor that it cannot afford a
decent life to those who dwell upon it? No, comrades, a thousand times no! The soil of England is fertile, its climate
is good, it is capable of affording food in abundance to an enormously greater number of animals than now inhabit it.
This single farm of ours would support a dozen horses, twenty cows, hundreds of sheep-and all of them living in a
comfort and a dignity that are now almost beyond our imagining. Why then do we continue in this miserable condition?
Because nearly the whole of the produce of our labour is stolen from us by human beings. There, comrades, is the answer
to all our problems. It is summed up in a single word-Man. Man is the only real enemy we have. Remove Man from the
scene, and the root cause of hunger and overwork is abolished for ever.

"Man is the only creature that consumes without producing. He does not give milk, he does not lay eggs, he is too weak
to pull the plough, he cannot run fast enough to catch rabbits. Yet he is lord of all the animals. He sets them to work,
he gives back to them the bare minimum that will prevent them from starving, and the rest he keeps for himself. Our
labour tills the soil, our dung fertilises it, and yet there is not one of us that owns more than his bare skin. You
cows that I see before me, how many thousands of gallons of milk have you given during this last year? And what has
happened to that milk which should have been breeding up sturdy calves? Every drop of it has gone down the throats of
our enemies. And you hens, how many eggs have you laid in this last year, and how many of those eggs ever hatched into
chickens? The rest have all gone to market to bring in money for Jones and his men. And you, Clover, where are those
four foals you bore, who should have been the support and pleasure of your old age? Each was sold at a year old-you will
never see one of them again. In return for your four confinements and all your labour in the fields, what have you ever
had except your bare rations and a stall?

"And even the miserable lives we lead are not allowed to reach their natural span. For myself I do not grumble, for I
am one of the lucky ones. I am twelve years old and have had over four hundred children. Such is the natural life of a
pig. But no animal escapes the cruel knife in the end. You young porkers who are sitting in front of me, every one of
you will scream your lives out at the block within a year. To that horror we all must come-cows, pigs, hens, sheep,
everyone. Even the horses and the dogs have no better fate. You, Boxer, the very day that those great muscles of yours
lose their power, Jones will sell you to the knacker, who will cut your throat and boil you down for the foxhounds. As
for the dogs, when they grow old and toothless, Jones ties a brick round their necks and drowns them in the nearest
pond.

"Is it not crystal clear, then, comrades, that all the evils of this life of ours spring from the tyranny of human
beings? Only get rid of Man, and the produce of our labour would be our own. Almost overnight we could become rich and
free. What then must we do? Why, work night and day, body and soul, for the overthrow of the human race! That is my
message to you, comrades: Rebellion! I do not know when that Rebellion will come, it might be in a week or in a hundred
years, but I know, as surely as I see this straw beneath my feet, that sooner or later justice will be done. Fix your
eyes on that, comrades, throughout the short remainder of your lives! And above all, pass on this message of mine to
those who come after you, so that future generations shall carry on the struggle until it is victorious.

"And remember, comrades, your resolution must never falter. No argument must lead you astray. Never listen when they
tell you that Man and the animals have a common interest, that the prosperity of the one is the prosperity of the
others. It is all lies. Man serves the interests of no creature except himself. And among us animals let there be
perfect unity, perfect comradeship in the struggle. All men are enemies. All animals are comrades."

At this moment there was a tremendous uproar. While Major was speaking four large rats had crept out of their holes and
were sitting on their hindquarters, listening to him. The dogs had suddenly caught sight of them, and it was only by a
swift dash for their holes that the rats saved their lives. Major raised his trotter for silence.

"Comrades," he said, "here is a point that must be settled. The wild creatures, such as rats and rabbits-are they our
friends or our enemies? Let us put it to the vote. I propose this question to the meeting: Are rats comrades?"

The vote was taken at once, and it wa...

Read more ( javascript:void(0) )

Shop the largest choice of Humor And Entertainment online in the UAE. Browse thousands of great deals on george orwell products with fast, free delivery.