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.