Rob Fletcher's story about 1984

As Robin and Margaret Fletcher eased their battered van into gear and began their journey back down a road pitted with cavernous potholes, they traded a look of grave concern. For they had just dropped the tall gaunt figure of Eric Blair off at a crumbling cottage at the edge of the world. A writer apparently, Blair was determined to exist in this isolated outpost on the Island of Jura. But how, the Fletchers wondered, would this frail and cadaverous southern intellectual cope with the harsh reality of Hebridean life? The year was 1946 and their passenger was better known by his nom de plume, George Orwell. Little did my grandparents realise, but he was about to embark on arguably the greatest work of fiction of the 20th century, the totalitarian nightmare, 'Nineteen Eighty-Four'. Sixty-three years later, sitting in the very same farmhouse, the shadow of Orwell and his achievements still looms large. Indeed, grainy pictures of the author himself adorn the Spartan walls and, while the peaceful setting could hardly feel further removed from his dystopian vision, the legacy of Orwell’s brief sojourn is palpable and has had a huge influence on the lives of the Fletcher family, including myself. My parents inherited the cottage when I was only 10 and I initially failed to grasp the true significance of either the writer or his work. Yet as I spent more time on Jura, I was amazed to find a string of people appearing to peer in the window of our lonely abode. These pilgrims, who would brave rain, wind and midges aplenty as they trudged up the seven miles of the same rutted track that my grandparents’ van had once taken, clearly saw Orwell as some sort of literary saint. While some of the visitors have been rude and invasive – barging into the house unannounced and unwelcome – others, such as the Japanese professor who arrived with only a tailcoat and patent leather shoes to ward off a storm, have earned their share of whatever meagre resources I can muster from a fridge-less building that is two hours from a shop. While I’d read the book on numerous occasions, it was this string of visitors and discussions about Orwell that made me truly appreciate the difference he had made to the lives of people all over the world. And without a doubt, 'Nineteen Eighty-Four' has since made a huge impact on my life too, partially through absorbing its bleak indictment of a totalitarian state and partially because the book acted as a gateway to the rest of his writing – I have since earned an MA in history, courtesy of my knowledge of Orwell’s work. However, quite uniquely, it is also thanks to its association with Jura that I have since shared a cup of tea and a roll-up round Orwell’s erstwhile table with characters as diverse as the eccentric professor, as well as journalists and writers such as Will Self.