Am i too old to have imaginary conversations with dead authors?
No matter what you think, I want to have a conversation with George Orwell and ask him all sorts of questions about the world I inhabit right now and his thoughts on Inuit in general. I would tell him, as little I know of the history of Inuit and the political meanderings we have been treading. From the philosophy of the western world to the philosophies of my Inuit ancestors, because philosophy is just a fancy word for worldly thoughts of people.
So, I imagine, I am smoking a cigarette with a pint of beer out on a patio with nineteen eighty four and animal farm by my side and I am listening to Neil Young on the stereo, because for some reason, I suspect that Orwell would like Neil Young. Anyways, it's my imagination. Imagine I am a chain smoking Inuk, with a du Marier always dangling from my lips and always talking through the corners of my mouth. As more beers I drink, the more I loose my inhibition to be polite, so I become much easier and not so awestruck to talk to Orwell.
"So, why did you have a pen name? Isn't your real name Eric Arthur Blair? And what are the benefits of having a pen name?"
He just shrugs and asks me why I am interested in him.
I tell him, and point to the books on the table, "I never had the chance to read your books until I was in my twenties, which is probably a good thing, because I approached them in a cautious way, because people kept telling me they're classics. To me classics are way over rated, each generation should choose there own classics. The books you wrote did have an effect on me though, I thought animal farm is very relevant to my current Inuit society, because we have been lead to believe certain things are acceptable, like extinguishing aboriginal rights, that one form of government is better, albeit if it is democratic or not."
"those are some great insights" he would tell me.
"thanks" i say, "that means a lot coming from you, Mr. Orwell."
"No problem, Tommy."
I'd say "can you call me Eskimo dude from now on, please, Mr. Orwell?"
"ok Eskimo dude."
"i have also been thinking", i blurt out, "that literature of any language is very important to the well being of a society because it asserts a sort of an intellectual property on a human experience that is unique. You see, Inuit have been left very little room to leave their thoughts. I have also been wondering how you approach literature?"
Orwell goes: "Literature is a way of expressing human emotions using different ideas to convey the immensity of human differences but to connect those differences and make them similarities. As i have wrote in one of my essays 'When one reads any strongly individual piece of writing, one has the impression of seeing a face somewhere behind the page. It is not necessarily the actual face of the writer.' i think that is how people should approach literature."
"thank you very much Mr. Orwell, i'll challenge you to a beer chugging contest."
Orwell happily accepts the challenge but learns very quickly that he cannot beat the Inuk who prefers to be called Eskimo dude in such a challenge!