Is there any doubt? The most important 20th Century man of letters in English - fiction, essays, journalism, belles lettres, name it - the weight, relevance, passion, and scope of his work is unparalleled, unrivaled - and accessible even to schoolchildren - most of whom, in America, read Animal Farm before graduating Junior High.
In this Orwellian nightmare we sojourn, Big Brother is watching us by way of the NSA, Interpol, CIA, Mossad, or whoever, and whatever option from the arsonal of methods at their disposal the intelligence community may choose to employ to make short work of our effete and generally furtive attempts at a semblance of privacy, and the derivative, "doublespeak" (descended or referring to Oceania's "newspeak") is the talk of the town in a day when our public officials do not lie to us but rather "mispeak".
Like Thoreau, whom he much parallels in the heart of that incomparable masterpiece, Homage To Catalonia, he died young (1903-1950) - but packed a staggering measure of life into an ourvre as essential as it is substantial - and real, in the deepest sense of the word.
Another big plus is that these books are solid as and built like Big Ben itself, for many hours of enjoyment and/or insight, hopefully both, by the legendary publishing house, Secker & Warburg, in 1980. By that hour, I would assume, they had come to the realization that Orwell had been their greatest find.