Nineteen Eighty-Four is not exactly sunshine and roses. It is forgivable to surmise the author would not be a happy camper. I was glad to know Orwell shared some happiness with his tyke in his final years.
(On the other hand, the great spreader of sweetness and light, P.G. Wodehouse, who I also like, seems to have been pretty quiet and unadventurous in person.)
(satisfied customer since 1997 or so ... digging foxhole in anticipation of "web 0.1 design" outrage ... "works great for me" defense ready ...)
P.S. scan down ALDaily's first column for the tale of Orwell's son. Not literary, but tells the mettle of the man, which is also good to know.