A Critic's Meta Review: 4/5

Animal Farm by George Orwell (REVIEW)

This used to be my absolute favorite book growing up. There was a period of time during my life when I would literally recommend this book to everyone who had the misfortune of talking to me about my favorite books; a conversation which almost always inevitably turned to me describing the plot of Animal Farm for twenty to thirty minutes while the other participant in the conversation simply stares at me with eyes glazed over like icing on a Krispy Kreme doughnut (I immediately regret both the shameless product placement and the ludicrous spelling of donut, but I must admit that I did quite enjoy watching the machines produce each individual donut at the Krispy Kreme in my neighborhood, and I always respected the fact that they would incentivize kids to do better in school by rewarding us with one free donut for each “A” on our report card - despite also possessing the knowledge that this likely catalyzed the modern childhood obesity epidemic).

In fact, when my younger sister was getting ready to enter that vicious den of merciless wolves known as middle school (to even type those two words in succession makes me shudder), I made her read and write a book report on it. She began reading the book, claimed to be enjoying it, and then called it quits about a third of the way through. When I approached my mother to inform her what had just happened, she responded that she knew, and that I shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on my little sister on account of she’s only twelve and she will reach the point of wanting to read when she gets a little older.

“Nonsense!” I thought, as I was already a freshman in high school and still detested reading.

Except for Orwell, that is (and, soon to be discovered during the following school year, Twain). Perhaps my adolescent adoration for Daddy George™ and his inimitable anti-authoritarian masterpieces reflected itself in my refusal to listen to word one of what any of the administrative officials had to say to me. Maybe it is what led me to avoid participating in the so-called “democratic process” (Woo! Go Biden! Woo! Everything is going to be just swell now...right?!?)

These things manifest themselves in strange ways, though; it could very well be the case that my distrust for anyone I perceive to be an authority figure has resulted in me being unable to hold down a steady job or a steady girlfriend for most of my adult life (either that or I have just had some bad luck on both front - and believe me, being with my ex was the living definition of bad luck). Damn you, Napoleon! Damn you and your unquenchable thirst for power! It is you who turned me into the Snowball that I am.

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