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Illustrated portrait of R.

A character in Down and Out in Paris and London

R.

An Englishman in the narrator's Paris quarter who drinks four litres of wine a day and talks about antique furniture.

What they want in Orwell's account

Nothing past the next drink, in Orwell's telling. The one journey the book credits him with, as far as the Azores, was made because the wine there is cheaper than anywhere else in Europe.

The book

Cover of Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell
Down and Out in Paris and LondonGeorge Orwell, 1933

Orwell's first book: seventeen-hour days in a Paris hotel kitchen, then a month on the road in England.

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At a glance

In the book
R., an Englishman in the narrator's quarter; the book gives him an initial and no name
The year
Six months in Putney with his parents, six months in France
Intake
Four litres of wine a day, six on Saturdays
Manner
Gentle, domesticated, never quarrelsome, never sober

Who they are in the book

Spoiler-free

George Orwell lists R. among the eccentrics of the rue du Coq d'Or, the Paris slum street where the narrator lodges, and gives him an initial rather than a name. He is English, and he divides his year in half: six months in Putney with his parents, six months in France. Apart from the narrator himself, he is the only Englishman in the quarter.

During the French half of the year he drinks four litres of wine a day, and six on Saturdays. Orwell calls him a gentle, domesticated creature, never rowdy or quarrelsome, and never sober.

How the book draws them

Appearance, manner, and tone — as the book sketches them, in our words.

  • The routineHe lies in bed until midday. From then until midnight he is in his corner of the bistro, drinking quietly and methodically.
  • The subjectWhile he drinks he talks, in what Orwell calls a refined, womanish voice, about antique furniture. The book records no other topic.
  • The AzoresHe had once travelled as far as the Azores, for the single stated reason that the wine there is cheaper than anywhere in Europe.
  • Saturday nightOn the Saturday evening Orwell describes in full, with the bistro packed, everyone singing, a man dancing with a wooden phallus and Charlie declaiming poetry, the one glimpse of R. is of a cadaverous, silent figure sitting in his corner quietly boozing.
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