A Blair grave, or well Graves

Eric Blair, my favourite class traitor, and Robert Graves, a mythic poet share quite a bit. Public schools. The 20s and 30s. Atypical reactions to truth, women and reviewing.

What if we swapped them.

Imagine Blair with an Oxbridge captaincy in the war, a love of ancient cartoons, and a fascination with femdom vore that crept into his texts.

Imagine Graves with a lower middle class flinch, "too young too old," a Burmese loathing for empire, a commitment to truth-as-text only and simple methodology, and a momentary dalliance with real proletarian revolution leading to sentimental left labourism.

I, for one, anticipate Clergyman's Daughter and Aspidistra being better novels.

Yours,
Sam R.
 
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