Orwell in Why I Write takes on a heavy assessment on the cultural identities of the English. A nation that operates under a theme of togetherness and feelings of belonging to another. There is unity, there is closeness. There is a lot of sympathy – see how the NHS gives out free services to the ills. There is love. These characters are the fundamentals of a civilised nation.
What makes one so? Through discontent, through the ‘left-wing intellegentsia’ that the people adopt. They are so against the so-called system that everyone is used to be responsible of their own victories. The English make their own food, their own type of art, of music; their own set of liberty. They spend a lot of time in finding their own fondness towards things – precisely why community clubs and societies are more profound in England than anywhere else in Europe. They make time for hobbies: stamp-collecting, gardening, crossword-solving. They construct their own identities. They are private in their communality. The English are essentially their own person, interlacing themselves with the differences of others.
What makes one so? Through struggles, through the many wars they’ve been, from the Civil War to the Industrial Revolution. The internal class wars and the defeat of France in their Battle of Waterloo. They have been forced to maintain and retain their own independence, defending their own ground, claiming a progress worthy of a national pride. They go through wars for peace.
This is love.
‘The beer is bitterer, the coins are heavier, the grass is greener, the advertisements are more blatant. The crowds in the big towns, with their mild knobby faces, their bad teeth and gentle manners, are different from a European crowd. The the vastness of England swallows you up, and you lose for a while your feeling that the whole nation has a single identifiable character. Are there really such things as nations? Are we not forty-six million individuals, all different? And the diversity of it, the chaos!’