Sunday, April 18, 2010

Part Three: Section VI

At the Chestnut Tree Café, I sat in my usual corner, glancing up at the poster of Big Brother. A waiter came to fill my glass with some Victory Gin; there was no need to give them any orders since they knew about my habits.

My thoughts wouldn't stop wondering. Almost unconsciously, I traced "2+2=5" in the dust on the table with my finger. I reflected back to the time when I saw Julia on a bitter cold day. We could have had sex if we had wanted to, but my flesh froze with horror at the thought of it. Julia had grown thicker and somehow, she had stiffened. I didn't talk to her, let alone try and kiss her. We admitted that we had betrayed each other, but told each other that we should meet again.

"Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me -"

I heard a voice singing that song from the telescreen. Just like that, my eyes were tearing.

A memory suddenly floated into my mind. I thought of my mother, my sister and all the times I had taken advantage of them. It must have happened almost a month before they disappeared. I had to push the picture out of my mind because I knew it was just a false memory.

I looked up at the portrait of Big Brother. So much had changed since I first started working at the Ministry of Love. It had taken me 40 years to realize the actual smile that was under the dark, cruel mustache. But everything was alright now. The struggle was finished because I, Winston Smith, had finally won the victory over myself. I loved Big Brother. And that was final.

- Winston Smith

Part Three: Section V

I was in Room 101. Maybe I would finally find out, once and for all, what exactly was in this room that O'Brien said everyone knew about. I was tightly strapped upright in a chair. I wasn't able to move anything.

O'Brien walked in with an oblong wire cage with rats in it. I was truly terrified and didn't know what kind of torture he had in store for me. I told him that it was unnecessary, but he didn't listen. I tried to escape from the chair, but it was hopeless. O'Brien had already brought the cage closer. At that point, I was almost unconscious. Everything was black.

There had to be someone who I could transfer my punishment to. Then it came to me. Julia. I told O'Brien that I didn't care if she was hurt. He was satisfied and before I knew it, the cage door had clicked shut and I was safe.

- Winston Smith

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Part Three: Part IV

Why had they given me a pillow, mattress, stool to sit on, a bath, warm water to wash with, new underclothes, clean overalls and new dentures? They were treating me like I was some kind of royalty. And everyone knew I wasn't. I was just Winston.

A few weeks or months have probably passed by now. They had started to feed me at regular intervals and even gave me a packet of cigarettes once. All the dreams that had been occurring in my mind had been happy ones; ones where I was in the Golden County or taking about peaceful things. I wasn't bored anymore and had no desire for conversation. I just wanted to be alone and have enough to eat. That was enough for me. I even started to become proud of my body; something I never expected myself to do. I accepted everything now and I had no intention of going back to the way I was before. I had no more doubts, no more arguments and no more fear.

I didn't know how long they were going to keep me here for; it could be months, or even years in solitary confinement. I did know, though, that I still hated the Party, even though I obeyed them. And even though I knew I was in the wrong, it was just the way I liked it.

Somehow O'Brien had read my mind when I happened to be thinking of Big Brother and my true opinions of him. I admitted that I hated him, and I was sent to Room 101.

"Then the time has come for you to take the last step," O'Brien said. "You must love Big Brother. It is not enough to obey him; you must love him."

- Winston Smith

Part Three: Part III

Apparently O'Brien assisted Goldstein in writing the book. And to think I had to ask him if he had read it already. I should have known of his mysterious ways. He told me that the Party's one and only concern was to have complete power. They didn't care about the good of others, wealth, luxury or happiness; all they wanted was pure power and they would do whatever they could to get it.

O'Brien wanted to create a world of victory after victory and triumph after triumph, but I knew it was impossible. There was no way a civilization would able to endure if it was based on fear, hatred and cruelty. O'Brien wouldn't agree, but I knew he would fail. Something would defeat him. Maybe it would be life. I didn't know for sure, but something would cause him to fail. Sooner or later the Party would see O'Brien for who he truly was and they would tear him to pieces. There would be something in the universe that he could not overcome, no matter how hard he tried.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn't believe my eyes. O'Brien had done this to me. I knew he did, even if he denied it. My own face had changed more than I had changed inside. I was aware of my ugliness, but there was nothing I could do.

Sure, they might have beaten me, but if it was one thing I didn't do, it was betray Julia. I had not stopped loving her; my feeling toward her had remained the same throughout all this chaos.

- Winston Smith

Part Three: Section II

Ever since the moment the Thought Police had arrested me, I had not seen darkness or daylight. I had been beaten several times, every time with something different. Sometimes it was steel rods, at others they were boots. The people who beat me, though, were always five or six men in black uniforms. They even slapped my face and pulled my hair. Now I knew what true torture felt like.

My sole concern was to find out what they wanted me to confess and do it as quickly as possible. And that was what I did. I confessed that I had been in a spy, a religious believer, an admirer of Capitalism and a sexual pervert. I had nothing to be afraid of, though. All I had said was the truth.

O'Brien was directing everything. I didn't know what he was anymore. He was the tormentor, the protector, the inquisitor, and the friend. Apparently the Party didn't care about the stupid crimes we had committed; all they were interested in was the thought behind it. He asked me several questions and told me that if I didn't answer the truth, I would instantly cry out in pain. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but I didn't want to risk anything by taking a chance. O'Brien had stopped my pain and I was truly thankful. I had never loved him more deeply than I did at that moment.

A blinding flash of light hit. As my eyes regained my focus, I, for once, remembered who and where I was. Somewhere, though, I could feel a large path of emptiness. It was almost as if a piece had been taken out of my brain.

"Never again will you be capable of ordinary human feeling. Everything will be dead inside you. Never again will you be capable of love, or friendship, or joy of living, or laughter, or curiosity, or courage, or integrity. You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves" (256).

I asked O'Brien what he did with Julia, but all he told me was that if I had seen here, I would hardly recognize her. All her rebelliousness and what I knew about her was burned out of her. According to him, it was "a perfect conversion." I even asked him about the Brotherhood, but he told me I would never know. For as long as I lived, it would be an unsolved riddle in my mind. Feeling curious, I finally asked what was in Room 101. He didn't answer, assuming I knew. But I didn't. I had no idea.

- Winston Smith

Part Three: Section I

I didn't know where I was for certain, but I thought it was the Ministry of Love. Since I had been arrested, I had not been fed and I was craving food. Before I was brought here, I was taken to another place. It must have been an ordinary prison or a temporary lock-up used by the patrols. For some reason, the ordinary criminals usually ignored the Party prisoners. They called us "the Polits."

I hardly thought of Julia for the first few days that I was there. I didn't know where I was or what time of day it was. But I did realize that this was the place O'Brien was referring to. It was the place where there was no darkness. There was no difference between night and day in this place.

While I was there, I met Ampleforh and even Parsons. Ampleforth stayed there for a while and was then sent away, but Parsons was released. More prisoners came and went mysteriously. No one knew why.

Whenever my physical sensations were a little under control, my terror returned. I thought of Julia for the first time. Somewhere, she was suffering, probably far worse than I was. But in this place, you couldn't feel anything except for pain and the foreknowledge of pain.

O'Brien approached me. And that was when he told me, "You knew this, Winston. Don't deceive yourself. You did know it -- you have always known it."

Maybe I had always known it, but I was definitely not admitting it. Especially to O'Brien.

- Winston Smith

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Part Two: Section X

I woke up in the morning feeling like I had slept for an eternity. Someone was singing outside and Julia woke up at the sound. We both walked towards the window, in hopes of seeing who was singing, and that was when I noticed how beautiful Julia truly was. I had never imagined that the body of 50 year old woman in her characteristic attitude would be that striking.

If there was any form of hope in Oceania, it lay in the proles. The future, of course, did belong to the proles. The proles sang, but the Party did not.

That was when I heard an iron voice behind me; Julia had a feeling that it was coming from behind a picture. The voice told us to remain exactly where we were and to make no movement unless we were ordered to. We didn’t think about running away or to get out of the house before it was too late; all we could do was stand there, gazing into one another’s eyes. The picture had fallen to the floor, uncovering the telescreen that was behind it. We were told not to touch one another, so we obeyed. I could feel Julia’s body shaking. Or maybe it was mine. I had no idea. Something was being dragged across the stones. I could hear a confusion of angry shouts and loud yells of pain. Julia thought it was a good idea to say our goodbyes, and since we had no choice, that was what we had to do.

I heard something crash onto the bed behind my back. There was a room full of men in black uniforms with iron boots on their feet, stampeding as they ascended up the stairs. Someone had picked up the glass paperweight I brought from Mr. Charrington and had smashed it into pieces.

I heard Julia thrashing about on the floor, fighting for breath. I couldn’t make myself look back, though her gasping face sometimes came into my vision. I knew what pain she was going through; the terrible, agonizing pain. I saw two men carry her out of the room, almost as if she was a sack. I caught a short, last glimpse of her yellow and contorted face. And that was the last I saw of her. No more Julia. No more dark brown-haired girl. She was a part of the past now and there was nothing I could do about it.

I was still alive. No one had come to hit me yet, but I did wonder whether they had caught Mr. Charrington or not. Suddenly, the demeanor of the men in black uniforms had become more subdued. That was when I heard Mr.Charrington in the background say “Pick up those pieces.”

He looked at me with one of those sharp glances he always seemed to do, almost as if he were verifying my identity. After that, he paid no more attention to me. He was still recognizable, but he wasn’t the same person at all. His entire appearance was changed, and for the first time, it occurred to me that I was looking at a member of the Thought Police.

- Winston Smith