Orwell is not spinning in his grave

He is, in fact, still alive and mostly well. He is only involving himself with the dead for the purposes of a new book, which will be a return to form, and the literary event of next Summer. The book is called 'Down and Down With The Dead'. Orwell decided that is was all well and good being alive, but that there is a vast, literal underworld that remains in the dark (literal, again,) while the privileged animated classes bustle about in comfortable ignorance above.

Being involved with the dead meant, of course, that he would have to be dead himself for the time being. But spinning in one's grave achieves very little, and Orwell is far too preoccupied with his current opus to bother with post-mortal howls of anguish when his memory is defiled. Besides which, there are always plenty of other writers to do this for him. While he is thus indisposed, I recommend one of them lie down in his grave and rotate in his place. This will surely serve the same purpose ' that is, galvanising the British public against the forces of tyranny.

In fact, as I write, the book itself is nearing completion, and Orwell is making plans to live again, in order that he might auction off the rights to the book and spend time promoting it on television. One unconfirmed rumour suggests that Richard and Judy already have him booked for an exclusive chinwag.

There'll be a great hullabaloo. Scientists will be at a loss to explain the secrets of Orwell's resurrection. Admirers will come from afar to confirm the news with their own eyes - he will be regarded as a kind of Christ figure by swathes of the well read and socially concerned. As he strides through the streets with pipe and paper a great crowd will form around him. And right at the front of the crowd will be Peter Hitchens, the Daily Mail columnist who has spent most of his career trying to find a popular cause with an opening for the position of 'figurehead', and who thinks he is one of the rare few who understand the real significance of 1984. He will heartily clap Orwell on the shoulders, like Aragorn greeting Legolas in Lord of the Rings, and epic music will play, and Hitchens, with the meatiest of warrior smiles, will say:

"Welcome back, George Orwell. Words cannot describe how greatly your country is in need of you. CCTV is rife, and a database of the population's genetic information is rapidly being assembled. Big Brother has become a reality, just as you told us it would. Newspeak is everywhere. You wouldn't believe it, but homosexuals are now called 'gays', 'Conservative' is a dirty word, and I am the only person who uses the term 'racialist' anymore. The Government is brainwashing the younger generations by tearing them from their Christian parents' bosoms and forcing them into University, where they are subjected to a cocktail of drugs, porn and liberal propaganda. I have tried to speak against this, but they won't put me on TV as much as I want them to. TV, by the way, is vile.

And Orwell will calmly remove Hitchens' hands from his shoulders, dust down his jacket and say nothing. He will proceed to the arranged meeting with his agent, and, later that night, celebrate his six figure advance for 'Down and Down With The Dead'. Then he will spin on his feet.