Today I am supposed to blog about two George Orwell short stories entitled “Shooting an Elephant” and “A Hanging.”  When reading these stories something stirred in me, but I am not exactly sure what it was.  I am unable to identify it.  Mr. Orwell appears to be extremely self-centered.  He talks about how he hated, being hated yet not once does he mention one kindness that he offered to the people of Burma while he was stationed there.  I puzzled about his intention to the people.  Even though he said that he hated imperialism and was against their oppressors.  He speaks as if he is the victim in the situation and he is the one being oppressed by an empiralist  government.  Its possible that he feels this way because he as been stationed in a place that he hates.  He just doesn’t want to be there. 

Yet I liked reading these short stories because his wring makes me feel that I am right there within the story.  For instance in the hanging, I felt like I was also walking along side the prisoner as he was going to the gallows.  I felt a little cheated that Orwell did not concentrate on telling us about the poor man’s crime.  I wanted to make sure that he was guilty of death and the government was justified putting him to death.  I needed to know that the prisoner had committed a crime, like the murder of an innocent person and deserved what was happening to him.  Knowing this would have satisfied my sense of justice and I would have not felt sorry for this poor native.  

Orwell’s writing is brillant.  He descibes the scenery of his writing in so much detail that I drew a picture in my head of what it must have been like to walk through the soggy streets witht he man due to be executed.  Or to watch the elephant as it swayed back and forth under its massive weight, deciding if it would charge again or lay down and take it fate.  This was such excitement  Orwell is capable of giving a reader what they want.