(Adapted and republished from my old Jack of Kent site, May 2010.)
You will like her.
She was born in 1875 and grew up in Burma in the port of Moulmein, where her French family had conducted business since the British annexation in 1826.
The Limouzins were a well-regarded family with wide commercial interests; they even had a street named after them. One family member remembered that the head of the family “lived like a prince”.
She had striking eyes and thick wavy hair – and highly independent.
According to one author, Ms. Limouzin was certainly a “more lively, unconventional, widely-read and in every way a more interesting person” than the dullard she ended up marrying.
She insisted on a separate bedroom to the dullard. When seen together she seemed to others to be faintly dismissive of him. The evidence suggests she only married him on the rebound.
When she brought her young family to England – the dullard husband was sent off to work in India for years and so played no real part in his children’s upbringing – she mixed with Suffragettes and attended public meetings. She often took her children with her: she was remembered by her daughter as being a mother “for outings”.
The house was full of fanciful objects, and she had a passion for art and photography.
In essence, Ms. Limouzin was a bohemian at the turn of the twentieth century, and one devoted to her young children.
As such, she was one of many; but the reason we know so much about her is because her son happened to grow up to be famous.
You can see him as the baby in the photograph above.
Her son was called Eric, but he became better known as “George Orwell”.
And when one looks at George Orwell from his mother’s perspective, a great deal seems to make sense.
One is no longer trying to explain why the Eton schoolboy decided not to go to university but went to Burma and then Paris instead.
After all, from his mother’s side Orwell was Franco-Burmese in the first place.
One can also perhaps see where his independence of mind and unreadiness to conform came from.
(Indeed even at Eton he was distinctive. He was known as “the college atheist” and he read books which surprised his teachers and friends. Regarding Orwell just as a typical Etonian is misconceived.)
But the British obsession with class, and the sexist assumption that the paternal side is more significant, tend to dominate Orwell scholarship and almost all his biographies.
For example, one biography of Orwell spends six pages lovingly detailing the family and class background of Orwell’s father, including mentioning distant and titled relatives of whom Orwell was probably unaware.
The biography then deals with Orwell’s mother in a couple of sentences.
One rather thinks it should be the other way round.
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