Each Week A book 每週一書－－(1984 )By 喬治·奧威爾 George Orwell, 1903-1950

《一九八四》和《動物農場》是奧威爾的傳世之作，堪稱世界文壇上最著名的政治諷喻小說。他在小說中他創造的“老大哥”、“雙重思想”、“新話”等詞彙都已收入權威的英語詞典，甚至由他的姓衍生了一個形容詞“奧威爾式”不斷出現在報導國際新聞的記者筆下，足見其作品在英語國家影響之深遠。“多一個人看奧威爾，就多了一份自由的保障”，有評家如是說。

喬治·奧威爾（喬治·奧威爾，1903年6月25日〜1950年1月21日），原名埃里克·阿瑟·布萊爾（埃里克·亞瑟Blair)，英國記者、小說家、散文家和評論家。其代表作有《動物莊園》和《1984》。有人說：“多一個人讀喬治·奧威爾的書，就會多一個人反對專制。”在奧威爾短暫的一生里，他以敏銳的洞察力和犀利的文筆審視和記錄著他所生活的那個時代，甚至作出了許多超越時代的預言。因此，他被稱為“一代人的冷峻良知”。1928年1月回國後，奧威爾深入到社會底層，四處漂泊流落。在巴黎、倫敦兩地，當過洗盤子的雜工，住過貧民窟，常常混跡在流浪漢和乞丐之中。次年，寫下了關於這段經歷的紀實性作品《巴黎倫敦落魄記》（Down並在巴黎和倫敦， 1933），真切地描述了生活在社會底層的人民的苦難。正是在為這部作品署名時，他用了“喬治·奧威爾”這一筆名。喬治·奧威爾。有人說：“多一個人讀喬治·奧威爾的書，就會多一個人反對專制。”在奧威爾短暫的一生里，他以敏銳的洞察力和犀利的文筆審視和記錄著他所生活的那個時代，甚至作出了許多超越時代的預言。因此，他被稱為“一代人的冷峻良知”。1936年7月，西班牙內戰爆發。同年年底，奧威爾與新婚妻子一同奔赴西班牙，投身於保衛共和政府的戰鬥。奧威爾在前線擔任少尉，喉部曾受重傷。他為記述西班牙內戰而寫的《向卡特洛尼亞致敬》（Homage加泰羅尼亞，1938）一書，後來成為關於這場內戰的一部權威性文獻。

西班牙左翼共和政府的內部分裂，致使戰爭失利，而奧威爾差一點喪身在共和政府內部黨派之爭的傾軋中。這個慘痛的經驗對他影響巨大。他曾說自己“從1930年起就是一個社會主義者了”，而這時候，他又開始考慮“捍衛民主社會主義”的問題了。這個思想出發點，一直影響到他後期的影響最廣的兩部名作——《動物農場》和《1984》的創作。

1950年1月，奧威爾病逝，終年46歲。

Nineteen Eighty-Four, sometimes published as 1984, is a dystopian novel by George Orwell published in 1948. The novel is set in Airstrip One (formerly known as Great Britain), a province of the superstate Oceania in a world of perpetual war, omnipresent government surveillance, and public manipulation, dictated by a political system euphemistically named English Socialism (or Ingsoc in the government's invented language, Newspeak) under the control of a privileged Inner Party elite that persecutes all individualism and independent thinking as "thoughtcrimes". The tyranny is epitomized by Big Brother, the quasi-divine Party leader who enjoys an intense cult of personality, but who may not even exist. Big Brother and the Party justify their oppressive rule in the name of a supposed greater good.[1] The protagonist of the novel, Winston Smith, is a member of the Outer Party who works for the Ministry of Truth (or Minitrue), which is responsible for propaganda and historical revisionism. His job is to rewrite past newspaper articles so that the historical record always supports the current party line.Smith is a diligent and skillful worker, but he secretly hates the Party and dreams of rebellion against Big Brother.

As literary political fiction and dystopian science-fiction, Nineteen Eighty-Four is a classic novel in content, plot, and style. Many of its terms and concepts, such as Big Brother, doublethink, thoughtcrime, Newspeak, Room 101, Telescreen, 2 + 2 = 5, and memory hole, have entered everyday use since its publication in 1949. Moreover, Nineteen Eighty-Four popularised the adjective Orwellian, which describes official deception, secret surveillance, and manipulation of the past by a totalitarian or authoritarian state. In 2005, the novel was chosen by TIME magazine as one of the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to 2005.[5] It was awarded a place on both lists of Modern Library 100 Best Novels, reaching number 13 on the editor's list, and 6 on the readers' list.[6] In 2003, the novel was listed at number 8 on the BBC's survey The Big Read.

《一九八四》（英語：Nineteen Eighty-Four），英國作家喬治·歐威爾創作的一部政治諷刺小說，小說創作於1948年，出版於1949年。書中講述了一個令人感到窒息和恐怖的，以追逐權力為最終目標的假想的未來極權主義社會，通過對這個社會中一個普通人溫斯頓·史密斯的生活描寫，投射出了現實生活中極權主義的本質。它與1932年英國赫胥黎著作的《美麗新世界》，以及俄國葉夫根尼·薩米爾欽的《我們》併稱反烏托邦的三部代表作，通常也被認為是政治小說文學的代表作。

《一九八四》已經被翻譯成至少62種語言，而它對英語本身亦產生了意義深遠的影響。書中的術語和小說作者已經成為討論隱私和國家安全問題時的常用語。例如，「歐威爾式的」（Orwellian）形容一個令人想到小說中的極權主義社會的行為或組織，而「老大哥在看著你」（BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU，小說中隨處可見的標語）則意指任何被認為是侵犯隱私的監視行為。《一九八四》曾在某些時期內被視為危險和具有煽動性的，並因此被許多國家（不單是有時被視為採取「極權主義」的國家）列為禁書。本書被美國時代雜誌評為1923年至今最好的100本英文小說之一，此外還在1956年、1984年改編成電影上映小說書評

1984 is possibly the definitive dystopian novel, set in a world beyond our imagining. A world where totalitarianism really is total, all power split into three roughly equal groups--Eastasia, Eurasia, and Oceania. 1984 is set in Oceania, which includes the United Kingdom, where the story is set, known as Airstrip One.

Winston Smith is a middle-aged, unhealthy character, based loosely on Orwell's own frail body, an underling of the ruling oligarchy, The Party. The Party has taken early 20th century totalitarianism to new depths, with each person subjected to 24 hour surveillance, where people's very thoughts are controlled to ensure purity of the oligarchical system in place. Figurehead of the system is the omnipresent and omnipotent Big Brother.

But Winston believes there is another way.

1984 joins Winston as he sets about another day, where his job is to change history by changing old newspaper records to match with the new truth as decided by the Party.

"He who controls the past, controls the future" is a Party slogan to live by and it gives Winston his job, but Winston cannot see it like that. Barely old enough to recall a time when things were different, he sets out to expose the Party for the cynically fraudulent organisation that it is. He is joined by Julia, a beautiful young woman much in contrast with Winston physically, but equally sickened by the excesses of her rulers.

You will meet many recognisable characters, themes, and words which have become part of our everyday life as you read 1984. Where did Big Brother first appear? Certainly not on Australian TV! Written in Orwell's inimitable journalistic style, 1984 is a tribute to a man who saw the true dangers of historian Lord Acton's (1834-1902) statement: "Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely." -- Submitted by The Atheist.


As Winston said, even if you are a minority of one it does not make you wrong.--Submitted by Anonymous.


Winston Smith lives in a world very unlike the world of his forefathers. There have been atomic wars just thirty years in the past and some of his memories seem clouded as Winston is filled with doubt, almost as if the events did not happen at all. Winston feels he must put these thoughts down on paper or they will be forgotten forever. However,such a task is forbidden by the state controlled government. Winston decides to write his journal anyway. What transpires next in the novel is at the heart of what makes men able to exist with some degree of hope for the future. Winston's world is a very hopeless, unfriendly place.--Submitted by Tom Hickman.

Orwell provides compelling reasons for the people of the 21st century to, much as we did in the 60's, question authority. Winston holds these thoughts dear but because of how society has been allowed to evolve he must be careful with even his own thoughts. You'll go with him as he meets Julia and as, against all odds, develops a relationship. Surprises abound in this unique and, at the time it was written, futuristic look at a world that has allowed itself to be taken over by an entity that we know even today as Big Brother. You'll find yourself asking how this man who wrote the novel in 1948 could possibly have such foresight into what would evolve into the world as we know it today. Similarities between life as we know it and life as Orwell foresaw abound. The book will cause you to look around yourself and question the policies of our government and the policies of global governments and how they impact our daily life. Definitely a compelling read !--Submitted by Anonymous. 

“<1984>過去<美麗新世界>到來”

書評人：止庵

我第一次讀奧威爾的《1984》，迄今已經24年了，其間讀過不止一遍。每當有人問對我影響最大的書時，我總是舉出這本，因為覺得在中國從未受到足夠重視，而它理應受到這種重視。記得一次朋友聚會，有位老先生非常興奮地談論《往事並不如煙》。當時我說，在您感興趣的那個方向上，走到頭是100%，《往事並不如煙》大概寫了1%，藉此我們可以想到5%。我告訴您有一本書，早已寫到了100%，就是奧威爾的《1984》。您一輩子都想不透的，它早已替您解決了。有關這個問題，真是不能再說有什麼《1984》未曾揭示過的東西了。

我讀《1984》，覺得最重要的不是具體寫到什麼，儘管那些描寫驚心動魄。關鍵是它從本質上揭示了一切。《1984》的歷史意義在於，當人們虛幻地以為看到了世界的希望時，奧威爾指出，那是一條極其危險的路。這本書涉及科學問題，而科學進步的速度和程度是包括奧威爾在內的所有人都難以想像的。如果只是盯著書中“電幕”一類東西，那麼現實中沒有“電幕”時，對人的監控就真的不存在了麼。而現代科學技術早已把“電幕”完善到了無法察覺和不留任何死角。

《1984》出版後引起很大轟動。赫胥黎卻給作者寫信說，《1984》所寫其實是發生在我的《美麗新世界》之前的事情。這很有意思。赫胥黎說，真正的極權國家是要講效率的。達到這種效率並非通過強製手段，而是人人自覺自願使然。《美麗新世界》中，人們幸福地追求著效率，或者說追求著幸福的效率。《1984》不過是把“舊世界”寫到極致了，之後還有一個“美麗新世界”。我強調《1984》，是因為我們缺少這一課，應該補上，不然至少思想方面會有很大漏洞。但是如果僅僅出於現實的考慮，《1984》未必非讀不可。《美麗新世界》就不同了，它所描寫的是正逐漸出現在我們面前的事情。

在我看來，我們正處在“1984”和“美麗新世界”之間。而且大家從不同地方、不同國度和不同體制下共同地在往這個方向努力。“1984”是一種局部選擇，卻有可能對整個人類造成威脅，而“美麗新世界”則是“陽光普照大地”。在《1984》中，溫斯頓之所以是溫斯頓，是因為他有思想，儘管從來沒有誰給過他思考的權利，只是他自己偷偷保留了一點而已。最終他把這種權利放棄了，把思想放棄了，“他戰勝了自己。他熱愛老大哥。”這正是奧勃良所要求的。這其實是他們之間達成的一種共識：溫斯頓心甘情願地不再思想。於是一個人的思想融入了一群人的思想，而一群人的思想根本不是思想。思想只有在“我”的意義上才成立。隨著科學技術的進步，人們越來越易於實現自己的物質願望，因此像溫斯頓那樣對社會不滿的人越來越少。在《美麗新世界》中，根本沒有思想這回事。

如果要在《美麗新世界》和《1984》之間加以比較，我會說《美麗新世界》更深刻。我不認為“1984”有可能100%實現，因為畢竟過分違背人類本性；但是裹挾其中，還是感到孤獨無助。然而“美麗新世界”完全讓人無可奈何。對“美麗新世界”我們似乎只能接受，因為一個人能夠抵禦痛苦，但卻不能抵禦幸福。書中約翰說道：“我要的不是這樣的舒服。我需要上帝！詩！真正的冒險！自由！善！甚至是罪惡！”總統答道：“實際上你是在要求受苦受難的權利。”有誰把受苦受難當成一種權利呢。

包括扎米亞京的《我們》、《美麗新世界》和《1984》在內的“反烏托邦三部曲”，有著共同的一點，即所描寫的都是秩序的世界。秩序之外什麼都不允許存在。但只有在《美麗新世界》中，秩序與人的願望達成了一致，雖然它是在更高層次上泯滅人性。“美麗新世界”是真正終結“1984”的。“1984”不是靠溫斯頓偷偷摸摸寫點什麼就可以動搖的，它終結於“美麗新世界”。這就是赫胥黎那句話的真正意義：你的《1984》終將過去，我的《美麗新世界》定會取而代之。　

漫談“1984”

書評人：老白

《1984》的偉大是不用任何廢話的，因為它本身就是一個偉大的預言。甚至有人稱這本書為“社會政治幻想小說”。

和我對《動物莊園》的評價一樣，中國人喜歡《1984》是不言而喻的，因為他們有著非常切身的體會。以至於我總是懷疑，《1984》能夠在中國出版，都是一件令人難以捉摸的事情。

我讀的《1984》是中國致公出版社2001出版的版本，在這本書的封三，有王小波關於本書的推薦：

1980年，我在大學裡讀到了喬治.奧威爾的《1984》，這是一個終身難忘的經歷。這本書和赫胥黎的《美麗新世界》、扎米亞金的《我們》並稱“反面烏托邦三部曲”，但是對我來說，它已經不是烏托邦，而是歷史了。

一部書可以被人們看作預言，同時又看作是歷史，這本書一定掌握了一種亙古不變的精神，否則，怎麼能如此放之四海而皆準？

劉韌認為《1984》的偉大在於思想。的確，這本書中隨便找幾句話，就夠我們咀嚼一輩子的了，例如：

誰控制過去，誰就控制未來。

思想犯罪不會招來死亡，思想犯罪本身就是死亡。

他們不到覺悟的時候，他們就不會造反，他們不造反，他們就不會覺悟。

不過，在我看這本書的同時，除了恐懼之外，還有迷茫。

奧威爾在書中借助戈爾德斯坦因的書寫道：

這個世界上永遠存在三種人，上等人、中等人、下等人。他們扮演的角色是上等人捍衛自己的權利和地位；中等人希望和上等人交換位置，下等人渾渾噩噩，但是是被利用的廣大群體。正如書中主人公溫斯頓在日記中寫道：如果有希望的話，它在群眾身上。

不過，奧威爾似乎又悲觀的意識到：人類的歷史就是三種人地位的變換，周而復始，無窮無盡。

同樣是在戈爾德斯坦因的書中，奧威爾說：

統治集團只有在四種情況下才會喪失權力：或者是被外部力量所征服；或者是統治無能，群眾起來造反；或者是讓一個強大而不滿的中等人集團出現；或者是自己喪失了統治的信心和意志。這四個原因並不單個起作用，在某種程度上總是同時存在。統治階級如能防止這四個原因的產生就能永久當權。最終的決定性因素是統治階級本身的精神狀態。

當然，造成我的迷茫還包括這邊書的灰色結尾。

然而，最終讓我想清楚的一件事是：這本書並不是戰鬥的宣言，它只是讓你更清楚地明白一些道理。最簡單的結論是，沒有人願意生活在恐懼之中、沒有人願意生活在貧困之中，只要他們能夠認識到，造反可以在一定時間內解決問題，他們會覺悟的。只要他們認識到，統治集團是需要監督和批判的，他們就能維護、保證自己擁有的一點可憐權利。

如果，今天有人願意模仿奧威爾寫一部新的小說，把戈爾德斯坦因的書換成《1984》，那麼這部小說的結尾是灰色的、還是光明的呢？

作品分析

關於《1984》詳細書評參見下方。這裡只提一點，許多人誤以為、或刻意認為該書針對的是蘇聯，甚至有人以為這是一部神奇的預言。實際上此書的高妙之處就在於它同時寓言了三種現實社會——二次大戰後的資本主義英國、二戰中和之前的納粹德國、斯大林主義的蘇聯，而它的反資本主義傾向也是極其鮮明的，與反極權傾向緊密地結合起來。

《1984》和《動物莊園》的中文版最早由中國著名翻譯家董樂山和傅惟慈先生貢獻出來（20世紀80年代始），名著名譯相得益彰。

“1984”（英文：十九Eighty-Four）是英國作家喬治·奧威爾創作的一部政治諷刺小說，初版於1949年，與1932年英國赫胥黎著作的《美麗新世界》，以及俄國葉夫根尼·扎米亞京的《我們》並稱反烏托邦的三部代表作，通常也被認為是硬科幻文學的代表作。在這部作品中，奧維爾深刻分析了極權主義社會，並且刻畫了一個令人感到窒息和恐怖的，以追逐權力為最終目標的假想的未來社會，通過對這個社會中一個普通人生活的細緻刻畫，投射出了現實生活中極權主義的本質。

《1984》已經被翻譯成至少62種語言，而它對英語本身亦產生了意義深遠的影響。書中的術語和小說作者已經成為討論隱私和國家安全問題時的常用語。例如，“奧威爾式的”形容一個令人想到小說中的極權主義社會的行為或組織，而“老大哥在看著你”（小說中不時見到的標語）則意指任何被認為是侵犯隱私的監視行為。成就與影響

《1984》被廣泛認為是奧威爾的代表作，不僅文中的思想在西方社會產生了很大的反響，其中的語言也得到了廣泛的認可。這部小說被翻譯成至少62種語言，奧威爾在本文創造的一些新詞，例如“犯罪思想”（thoughtcrime）、“新語”（newspeak）、“雙想”（doublethink）、“老大哥”（Big Brother）、犯罪停止（crimestop）等已收進詞典。在已故作家王小波先生的《白銀時代》裡成為某種象徵。

《1984》曾在一段時期內被視為危險和具有煽動性的，並因此被許多國家（不單是有時被視為採取“極權主義”的國家）列為禁書。本書被美國時代雜誌評為1923年至今最好的100本英文小說之一，此外還在1984年改編成電影上映。著名日本作家村上春樹在21世紀出版的暢銷小說《1Q84》即向該書致敬，體現了《1984》的巨大影響力。

《1984》是一部傑出的政治寓言小說，也是一部幻想小說。作品刻畫了人類在極權主義社會的生存狀態，彷彿一個永不退色的警世標籤，警醒世人提防這種預想中的黑暗成為現實。歷經幾十年，其生命力日益強大，被譽為20世紀影響最為深遠的文學經典之一。

這部作品被譯為60餘種文字，並獲得包括美國時代周刊  “1923年至今最好的100本英文小說”在內的多項獎項。7作者簡介

由於歷史上東西方的對峙，喬治·奧威爾的作品經常被視為反蘇和反共的代名詞，因而在蘇聯、東歐等一些社會主義國家遭到封殺。而根據2007年9月4日英國國家檔案館解密的資料，因早年的社會主義活動，奧威爾被軍情五處和倫敦警察廳特別科監視。他創造出的“人人平等，有的人比別人更平等”、“極權國家”、“老大哥”等詞語在全世界流行，較大程度上瓦解了社會主義陣營的道德優勢。

他被稱之為“20世紀冬季的良心”“一代人的冷峻良心”（V·S·普里切特）等，他前半生作為社會主義者（而且說他是激進社會主義者也不為過）抨擊蘇聯的官僚專權和狹隘民族主義，主張無產階級民主和革命的國際主義，同情並且部分地接近於列寧 — 托洛茨基派的共產主義者。在《向加泰羅尼亞致敬》中他按自己理解為西班牙馬克思主義統一工人黨做了一定辯護（這個革命黨派遭到斯大林派第三國際的迫害，在當時惟有托洛茨基領導的第四國際作為政黨敢於為之辯護），對此，國際資產階級文壇一直有很大非議。 

Title:      Nineteen eighty-four
Author:     George Orwell (pseudonym of Eric Blair) (1903-1950)



PART ONE



Chapter 1



It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
Winston Smith, His chin nuzzled into His breast in an effort to escape the
vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions,
though not quickly enough to precaution prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering
along with him.

The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it to
colored poster, too large for indoor display, Had Been tacked to the wall.
It depicted simply an enormous face, blackberries than a meter wide: the face of a
man of about forty-five, with a heavy black mustache and ruggedly handsome
features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even
at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric
current was cut off During daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive
in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston,
who was thirty-nine and had a varicose ulcer above His right ankle, went
slowly, resting several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the
lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was
Which One of Those pictures are so contrived That the eyes follow you about
when you finish a move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.

Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures Which had
something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an
oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror Which formed part of the surface
of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank
somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable. The instrument
(The telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of
shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail
figure, the meagreness of His body Merely emphasized by the blue overalls
Which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, His Face
naturally sanguine, His skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor
blades and the cold of the winter That had just ended.

Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world Looked cold. Down in
the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into
spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there
Seemed to be no color in anything, except the posters were plastered That
everywhere. The black-moustachio'd face gazed down from every commanding
corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER
IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes Looked deep into
Winston's own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner,
flapped fitfully in the wind, Alternately covering and uncovering the
single word Ingsoc. In the distance to a helicopter skimmed down between
the roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again
with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people's
windows. The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police
mattered.

Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away
about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The
telescreen received and Transmitted simultaneously. Any sound That Winston
made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it,
Moreover, so long as he Remained Within the field of vision Which the metal
plaque commanded to, he Could be seen as well as heard. There was of course
no way of knowing Whether you were being watched at any Given Moment. How
Often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual
wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable That they watched everybody all
the time. But at any rate they Could plug in your wire Whenever they wanted
to. You had to live - did live, from habit That Became instinct - in the
That assumption every sound you made was overheard, and, except in
darkness, every movement scrutinized.

Winston kept His back turned to the telescreen. It was safer; though, as he
Knew well, even in the back can be revealing. A kilometer away the Ministry of
Truth, His place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape.
This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste - this was London, chief
city ​​of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of
Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory That Should tell him
Whether London had Always Been quite like this. These were always there
vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, Their sides shored up with
baulks of timber, Their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs
with corrugated iron, Their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions?
And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the
willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the
bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies
of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he Could not
remember: nothing Remained of His childhood except a series of bright-lit
tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible.

The Ministry of Truth - Minitrue, in Newspeak [Newspeak was the official
language of Oceania. For an account of Its structure and etymology see
Appendix.] - Was startlingly different from any other object in sight. It
was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring
up, terrace after terrace, 300 meters into the air. From where Winston
stood it was just possible to read, picked out in white face on ITS
elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party:


  WAR IS PEACE
  FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
  IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH


The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above
ground level, and Corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London
there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. I know
completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture from the roof That
of Victory Mansions Could you see all four of them simultaneously. They
were the homes of the four Ministries between Which The entire apparatus
of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, Which itself Concerned
with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of
Peace, Which Concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, Which
maintained law and order. And the Ministry of Plenty, Which Was responsible
for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv,
and Miniplenty.

The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows
in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor
Within half a kilometer of it. It was a place impossible to enter except
on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of
barbed-wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even
the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced
guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons.

Winston turned round abruptly. He had His features into the September
expression of quiet optimism Which was it Advisable to wear When facing
the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving
the Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed His lunch in the
canteen, and he was aware That there was no food in the kitchen except
a hunk of dark-colored bread Which had got to be saved for tomorrow's
Bs. He Took down from the shelf a bottle of colorless liquid
with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It Gave off a sickly, oily
smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful,
nerved Himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medicine.

Instantly His face turned scarlet and the water ran out of His Eyes. The
stuff was like nitric acid, and Moreover, in swallowing it one had the
sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The
next moment, However, the burning in His belly died down and the world
Began to look cheerful blackberries. He Took a cigarette from a crumpled packet
marked VICTORY CIGARETTES and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the
tobacco fell out on to the floor. With the next he was successful blackberries.
He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table stood That
to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he Took out a
penholder, a bottle of ink, and a thick, quarto-sized blank book with a
red back and a marbled cover.

For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual
position. Instead of being Placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where
It could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the
window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in Which Winston
was now sitting, and Which, When the flats were built, had probably Been
intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well
back, Winston was Able To Remain outside the range of the telescreen, so
to as sight went. He Could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed
In His present position he Could not be seen. It was partly the unusual
geography of the room Suggested That had to him the thing That he was now
about to do.

But it had Also Been Suggested by the book That he had just taken out of
the drawer. It was a peculiarly beautiful book. Its smooth creamy paper,
a little yellowed by age, was of a kind That had not Been manufactured for
at least forty years past. Could he guess, However, That the book was much
older than that. He had seen it lying in the window of a frowsy little
junk-shop in a slummy quarter of the town (just what quarter he did not
now remember) and Had Been stricken immediately by an overwhelming desire
to possess it. Party members were supposed not to go into ordinary shops
('Dealing on the free market', it was called), but the rule was not
strictly kept, Because there were various things,: such as shoelaces and
razor blades, Which it was impossible to get hold of in any other way. He
Given had a quick glance up and down the street and then had slipped inside
and bought the book for two dollars fifty. At the time he was not conscious
Particular of wanting it for any purpose. He had the carried it guiltily home
In His briefcase. Even with nothing written in it, it was a Compromising
possession.

The Thing That he was about to do was to open a diary. This was not illegal
(Nothing was illegal, since there were no longer any laws), but if detected
it was reasonably Certain That it would be punished by death, or at least
by twenty-five years in a forced-labor camp. Winston fitted a nib into
the penholder and sucked it to get the grease off. The pen was an archaic
instrument, seldom used even for signatures, and he had procured one,
furtively and with some difficulty, simply Because Of That feeling in the
beautiful creamy paper deserved to be written on with a real nib instead
of being scratched with an ink-pencil. Actually he was not used to writing
by hand. Apart from very short notes, it was usual to dictate everything
into the speak-write Which was of course impossible for His present
purpose. He dipped the pen into the ink and then faltered for just a
second. A tremor had gone through His bowels. To mark the paper was the
decisive act. In small clumsy letters he wrote:


   April 4th, 1984.


He sat back. A sense of complete helplessness had Descended upon him. To
begin with, he did not know with any certainty That this was 1984. It
must be round about that date, since he was fairly sure That was His Age
thirty-nine, and he Believed That he Had Been born in 1944 or 1945; but
it was never possible nowadays to pin down any dates Within a year or two.

For whom, it suddenly occurred to him to wonder, was he writing this diary?
For the future, for the unborn. His mind hovered for a moment round the
doubtful date on the page, and then fetched up with a bump against the
Newspeak word doublethink. For the first time the magnitude of what he had
Undertaken came home to him. How could you communicate with the future? It
of Its nature was impossible. Either the future would resemble the present,
in which case it would not listen to him: or it would be different from it,
and his predicament would be meaningless.

For some time he sat gazing stupidly at the paper. The telescreen had
changed over to strident military music. It was curious That Seemed he
Merely not to have lost the power of expressing Himself, but even to have
forgotten what it was That he had originally intended to say. For weeks
past he Had Been making ready for this moment, and it had never crossed
His Mind That anything would be needed except courage. The actual writing
would be easy. All he had to do was to transfer to paper the interminable
restless monologue That Had Been running inside His head, literally for
years. At this moment, However, even the monologue had dried up. Moreover
His varicose ulcer had Begun itching unbearably. He dared not scratch it,
Because if he did know it always Became inflamed. The seconds were ticking
mode. He was conscious of nothing except the blankness of the page in front
of him, the itching of the skin above His ankle, the blaring of the music,
and a slight booziness Caused by the gin.

Suddenly he Began writing in sheer panic, only Imperfectly aware of what
he was setting down. His small but childish handwriting straggled up and
down the page, shedding first ITS capital letters and finally even the ITS
full stops: