Down and Out in Paris and London: Chapter 14 Summary & Analysis

As Orwell gets more accustomed to the tenor of his days at Hotel X, he discovers that the restaurant and hotel staff must curse at each other and engage in fights in order to maintain the break-neck pace the work requires. Abuse is a form of motivation. Cooks are particularly vulgar and likewise uniquely skilled. The hotel rises or falls on the cooks’ punctuality, memory, and talent, and the cooks are therefore the proudest members of the staff.

Waiters, on the other hand, need to be servile or give the appearance of servility. They are constantly hovering around the rich—party to their conversations, likes and dislikes, and prejudices—so waiters are, as a result, snobs of the vicarious variety. They live through the people they serve and begin to think of themselves on their level, even though most die poor. Valenti proves this point by recounting to the narrator a splendid meal he served in Nice, telling the story as if he were among the guests instead of serving. Never, Orwell argues, feel sorry for a waiter. They are simply biding their time until they achieve a station far above their compatriots.

Plongeurs are, by nature, different. They are stuck in menial labor because their wages are too low to allow for savings and the time commitment means there’s no time to train for another position. At the same time, the plongeurs are prideful of their resourcefulness and their ability to get the job done no matter what the challenges. They consider themselves soldiers. Everyone taking pride in his/her work makes for a comfortable, efficiently run hotel.

Much of the efficiency is the result of boulot, or the appearance of good service. If one looks beyond the good service, though, the place is incredibly dirty and the staff cares only about the appearance of cleanliness. It’s all they have time for, and actually, making good food means not only touching it, but even licking it. The more one pays for a meal in Paris, the greater the chance the cook and waiter have had their dirty hands all over it. The food, the wine, and the service at Hotel X is all a sham. The meat and vegetables are subpar, the wines cheap, and the cream diluted. Corners are cut whenever possible. Most of the Hotel X guests are clueless Americans. One, from Pittsburgh, eats the same meal every night—Grape Nuts, scrambled eggs, and cocoa. Orwell suggests that perhaps people with such poor taste should be cheated.