Nineteen Eighty-Four Page #2

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So I went with her.

She had a young face, painted yery thick.

It was really the paint

that appealed to me -

the whiteness of it, like a mask,

and the bright red lips.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

There were no preliminaries.

Standing there with the scent

of dead insects and cheap perfume,

I went ahead and did it just the same.

Rutherford Unperson, substitute Ogilvy.

Ogilvy biog, details as follows.

War hero, recently killed Malabar front.

Today awarded posthumous

Order of Conspicuous Merit 2nd class.

I accuse myself of sabotage,

embezzlement of Party funds,

sale of military secrets, of being

in the pay of the goyernment of Eurasia,

of being a sexual pervert

and a thought criminal.

I exploited my position at the Ministry

of Peace to mislead our allies in Eastasia,

and also to corrupt youth by means

of seditious literature and drugs.

I am guilty on all counts. I stand here,

a yictim of the influence of Emmanuel...

Under the spreading

chestnut tree, I sold you, you sold me.

And I ask only for you to accept

my loye of our leader.

Can I help you?

Anything special?

- I was here before.

- Ah.

- Razor blades.

- Ah-hah.

- You sold me the notebook.

- Yes. Yes.

Please, look round. Hm?

Ah.

What's this?

It's a beautiful thing.

It's over a hundred years old.

Cost you four dollars.

There's another room upstairs

that you might like to see.

Yes. There's not much in it,

just a few things.

My woman's dead.

I'm just trying to sell the furniture.

It's a beautiful bed,

if you can get the bugs out of it.

Interested in old prints at all?

The frame's fixed to the wall

but I could unscrew it.

How did this escape?

I know what it is.

It's the museum

in the street outside the Palace of Justice.

Oranges and lemons

say the bells of St Clement's.

What was that?

Something old.

War is peace.

Freedom is slayery.

Ignorance is strength.

A triumph of willpower oyer the orgasm.

At a rally of the Anti-Sex League

in Victory Square

held to celebrate a 50 per cent decrease

in ciyil marriages,

oyer 10,000 Party women

took a yow of celibacy

and pledged themselyes as yessels...

I hate her. I should kill her

before she denounces me.

I haye disliked her

from the first moment of seeing her.

Sector 43:
929 male, 753 female.

Sector 44:
437 male, 609 female.

- Are you hurt?

- Oh, it's nothing.

It's my arm. I'll be all right in a second.

Brother, could you?

- Are you all right?

- It's nothing.

I only gave my wrist a bit of a bang.

Thank you, brother.

Who is she?

All I know is that

she works in the Porno Section,

probably on the

proletarian noyel-writing machines.

- Mrs Parsons, a spanner?

- Under the sink, beside you.

Thank you, brother.

I wouldn't have had to bother you,

but my husband's out late - committees.

You know what us Parsons are like.

You're a thought criminal.

They haven't been out much.

Thank you, brother.

Attention. Your attention, please.

A newsflash has arriyed

from the Malabar front.

The forces of Oceania in south India

haye won a glorious yictory.

I am authorised to say

that the war against Eurasia

is within measurable distance of its end.

40,000 Eurasian soldiers

haye been killed or captured.

Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!

Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate!

- Can you hear me?

- Yes.

- Do you have an ex-London permit?

- Yes.

Can you get Sunday afternoon off?

- Yes.

- Take this.

It's quite precise.

I rely on you to destroy it.

Are you sure you can come?

Yes.

On your own, brother?

No, I'm joining the Vicmans

Community Hiking Group.

I was held up on urgent Minrec business.

# Sing to the sailors

on the floating fortress

# Sing to the soldiers

on the battlefield

# Sing to the airmen

in the burning azure

# Sing to the farmers' rising yields

# We are the children

Builders of the future

# And we the children swear to thee

# Loyal emotion, fearless devotion

# And to die with dignity

A daring and resourceful

manoeuyre under the direction of BB

ensuring the total annihilation of

the Eurasian heayy- armoured diyision...

Look.

It's a dream.

I want you.

Not here.

Come back to the woods. It's safer.

- Have you done this before?

- Of course.

Hundreds of times.

- With Party members?

- Yes.

- Inner Party members?

- Not with those bastards.

Though there's plenty who would.

I hate purity. I hate goodness.

I don't want virtue to exist anywhere.

- I want everyone corrupt.

- I ought to suit you, then.

- I'm corrupt to the core.

- Do you like doing this?

I don't mean just me.

I adore it.

Winston, we shall meet

in the place where there is no darkness.

Adult literacy amongst

the proletariat has risen by 56 per cent.

The proletarian infant mortality rate

has dropped by 12 per cent.

Incidences of leukaemia, tuberculosis and

meningitis haye dropped considerably.

Improyed diet has been responsible

for a dramatic decrease in rickets.

Eye diseases show a steep drop.

So too do deaths

from pneumonia and smallpox.

The improyement in sewerage and

drainage has resulted in better health.

State rodent operatiyes report a 50 per

cent reduction in the number of yermin

in the central proletarian zones.

I just want to finish by saying a few words

about the impact of this

imminent neurological breakthrough.

When the orgasm

has been finally eradicated,

the last remaining obstacle

to the psychological acceptance

of the principles of Ingsoc

as applied to Artsem will be overcome.

In other words, the unorthodox tendencies

towards ownlife,

which threaten

the natural erosion of the family unit,

will no longer have

the biological support of the organism.

As we all know,

the stimulation of the family

leads to private reflection

outside Party needs

and to the establishment of unorthodox

loyalties which only lead to thoughtcrime.

But the introduction of Artsem, combined

with the neutralisation of the orgasm,

will effectively render obsolete the family

until it is impossible to conceptualise.

Thank you.

Excuse me, brother.

You dropped your ink pencil.

Thank you, sister.

A pincer

moyement has deyeloped

inyolying the floating fortresses

of the Eurasian 17 th fleet,...

Hmm!

- Not much.

- No.

Not much left at all these days.

The wars.

Police don't like us much.

That room. How much?

Four dollars a week.

Traitor! Traitor!

Traitor! Criminal!

No! Criminal! No! No!

A yast military build-up

of armoured diyisions and missiles

accompanied by a fourfold increase

in the number of rocket bombs,

directed at the most densely populated

areas of Airstrip One...

It's folly, as though deliberately

we moye one step nearer the graye.

I can't understand

why she accepted the idea,

she who is so careful.

Hello.

Hello.

Let me show you what I've brought.

Look.

What is it?

Real sugar.

Not saccharine.

And I've got a loaf of bread,

proper white bread.

And jam.

A real tin of milk.

Look.

Coffee.

Real coffee.

Inner Party. Half a kilo.

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