George Orwell "The Prevention of Literature"
It would probably not be beyond human ingenuity to write books by
machinery. But a sort of mechanizing process can already be seen at work
in the film and radio, in publicity and propaganda, and in the lower
reaches of journalism. The Disney films, for instance, are produced by
what is essentially a factory process, the work being done partly
mechanically and partly by teams of artists who have to subordinate their
individual style. Radio features are commonly written by tired hacks to
whom the subject and the manner of treatment are dictated beforehand:
even so, what they write is merely a kind of raw material to be chopped
into shape by producers and censors. So also with the innumerable books
and pamphlets commissioned by government departments. Even more
machine-like is the production of short stories, serials, and poems for
the very cheap magazines. Papers such as the WRITER abound with
advertisements of literary schools, all of them offering you ready-made
plots at a few shillings a time. Some, together with the plot, supply the
opening and closing sentences of each chapter. Others furnish you with a
sort of algebraical formula by the use of which you can construct plots
for yourself. Others have packs of cards marked with characters and
situations, which have only to be shuffled and dealt in order to produce
ingenious stories automatically. It is probably in some such way that the
literature of a totalitarian society would be produced, if literature
were still felt to be necessary. Imagination--even consciousness, so far
as possible--would be eliminated from the process of writing. Books
would be planned in their broad lines by bureaucrats, and would pass
through so many hands that when finished they would be no more an
individual product than a Ford car at the end of the assembly line. It
goes without saying that anything so produced would be rubbish; but
anything that was not rubbish would endanger the structure of the state.
As for the surviving literature of the past, it would have to be
suppressed or at least elaborately rewritten.
Tas ir tieši tas, ko tajās rakstnieku darbnīcās dara - taisa shēmas, kā rakstīt literatūru. Jāatzīst, dažiem jauniem rakstniekiem forma nav saprotama, bet to var iemācīties, neveidojot varoņu portfolio un ko tik vēl nē.
machinery. But a sort of mechanizing process can already be seen at work
in the film and radio, in publicity and propaganda, and in the lower
reaches of journalism. The Disney films, for instance, are produced by
what is essentially a factory process, the work being done partly
mechanically and partly by teams of artists who have to subordinate their
individual style. Radio features are commonly written by tired hacks to
whom the subject and the manner of treatment are dictated beforehand:
even so, what they write is merely a kind of raw material to be chopped
into shape by producers and censors. So also with the innumerable books
and pamphlets commissioned by government departments. Even more
machine-like is the production of short stories, serials, and poems for
the very cheap magazines. Papers such as the WRITER abound with
advertisements of literary schools, all of them offering you ready-made
plots at a few shillings a time. Some, together with the plot, supply the
opening and closing sentences of each chapter. Others furnish you with a
sort of algebraical formula by the use of which you can construct plots
for yourself. Others have packs of cards marked with characters and
situations, which have only to be shuffled and dealt in order to produce
ingenious stories automatically. It is probably in some such way that the
literature of a totalitarian society would be produced, if literature
were still felt to be necessary. Imagination--even consciousness, so far
as possible--would be eliminated from the process of writing. Books
would be planned in their broad lines by bureaucrats, and would pass
through so many hands that when finished they would be no more an
individual product than a Ford car at the end of the assembly line. It
goes without saying that anything so produced would be rubbish; but
anything that was not rubbish would endanger the structure of the state.
As for the surviving literature of the past, it would have to be
suppressed or at least elaborately rewritten.
Tas ir tieši tas, ko tajās rakstnieku darbnīcās dara - taisa shēmas, kā rakstīt literatūru. Jāatzīst, dažiem jauniem rakstniekiem forma nav saprotama, bet to var iemācīties, neveidojot varoņu portfolio un ko tik vēl nē.