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O'Brien held up the fingers of his left hand, with the thumb concealed. "There are five fingers there. Do you see five fingers?" "Yes." And he did see them, for a fleeting instant, before the scenery of his mind changed. He saw five fingers, and there was no deformity. Then everything was normal again, and the old fear, the hatred, and the bewilderment came crowding back again. But there had been a moment—he did not know how long, thirty seconds, perhaps—of luminous certainty, when each new suggestion of O'Brien's had filled up a patch of emptiness and become absolute truth, and when two and two could have been three as easily as five, if that were what was needed. It had faded out before O'Brien had dropped his hand; but though he could not recapture it, he could remember it, as one remembers a vivid experience at some remote period of one's life when one was in effect a different person. "You see now," said O'Brien, "that it is at any rate possible." "Yes," said Winston. O'Brien stood up with a satisfied air. Over to his left Winston saw the man in the white coat break an ampoule and draw back the plunger of a syringe. O'Brien turned to Winston with a smile. In almost the old manner he resettled his spectacles on his nose. "Do you remember writing in your diary," he said, "that it did not matter whether I was a friend or an enemy, since I was at least a person who understood you and could be talked to? You were right. I enjoy talking to you. Your mind appeals to me. It resembles my own mind except that you happen to be insane. Before we bring the session to an end you can ask me a few questions, if you choose." "Any question I like?" "Anything." He saw that Winston's eyes were upon the dial. "It is switched off. What is your first question?" "What have you done with Julia?" said Winston. O'Brien smiled again. "She betrayed you, Winston. Immediately—unreservedly. I have seldom seen anyone come over to us so promptly. You would hardly recognize her if you saw her. All her rebelliousness, her deceit, her folly, her dirty-mindedness—everything has been burned out of her. It was a perfect conversion, a textbook case." "You tortured her." O'Brien left this unanswered. "Next question," he said. "Does Big Brother exist?"
"Of course he exists. The Party exists. Big Brother is the embodiment of the Party." "Does he exist in the same way as I exist?" "You do not exist," said O'Brien. Once again the sense of helplessness assailed him. He knew, or he could imagine, the arguments which proved his own nonexistence; but they were nonsense, they were only a play on words. Did not the statement, "You do not exist," contain a logical absurdity? But what use was it to say so? His mind shriveled as he thought of the unanswerable, mad arguments with which O'Brien would demolish him. "I think I exist," he said wearily. "I am conscious of my own identity. I was born, and I shall die. I have arms and legs. I occupy a particular point in space. No other solid object can occupy the same point simultaneously. In that sense, does Big Brother exist?" "It is of no importance. He exists." "Win Big Brother ever die?" "Of course not. How could he die? Next question." "Does the Brotherhood exist?" "That, Winston, you will never know. If we choose to set you free when we have finished with you, and if you live to be ninety years old, still you will never learn whether the answer to that question is Yes or No. As long as you live, it will be an unsolved riddle in your mind." Winston lay silent. His breast rose and fell a little faster. He still had not asked the question that had come into his mind the first. He had got to ask it, and yet it was as though his tongue would not utter it. There was a trace of amusement in O'Brien's face. Even his spectacles seemed to wear an ironical gleam. He knows, thought Winston suddenly, he knows what I am going to ask! At the thought the words burst out of him: "What is in Room 101?" The expression on O'Brien's face did not change. He answered drily: "You know what is in Room 101, Winston. Everyone knows what is in Room 101." He raised a finger to the man in the white coat. Evidently the session was at an end. A needle jerked into Winston's arm. He sank almost instantly into deep sleep. III "THERE ARE THREE STAGES in your reintegration," said O'Brien. "There is learning, there is understanding, and there is acceptance. It is time for you to enter upon the second stage."
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Animal Farm and 1984 George Orwell
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HARCOURT, INC. Orlando Austin New Y
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Introduction THE TWO NOVELS THAT yo
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The original title of the novel was
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Eastern Europe, and of those who le
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1 MR. JONES, OF THE Manor Farm, had
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your four confinements and all your
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On the day that sets us free. For t
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Moses, who was Mr. Jones's especial
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eproached her sharply, and they wen
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3 HOW THEY TOILED and sweated to ge
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As for the pigs, they could already
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4 BY THE LATE SUMMER the news of wh
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All the men were gone except one. B
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his own following, and there were s
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can run, but the dogs were close on
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6 ALL THAT YEAR THE animals worked
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Every Monday Mr. Whymper visited th
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avenge himself for his ignominious
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through one of the other pigs, usua
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Comrade Napoleon. Do you not rememb
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that it was their own farm, every i
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8 A FEW DAYS LATER, when the terror
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were only conducted through Whymper
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The very next morning the attack ca
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fired in all—and heard the speech
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9 BOXER'S SPLIT HOOF was a long tim
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There was only one candidate, Napol
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The animals crowded round the van.
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10 YEARS PASSED. The seasons came a
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from the yard. Startled, the animal
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on Animal Farm did more work and re
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One IT WAS A BRIGHT cold day in Apr
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Winston turned round abruptly. He h
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was trying to burrow right into her
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Eurasia, he was advocating freedom
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At this moment the entire group of
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wanted to smudge the creamy paper b
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"Want to see the hanging! Want to s
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wrappings of a cigarette packet—e
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was never fully certain whether or
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satisfactorily under control. Offic
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the disposal of wastepaper. Similar
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ecome uncertain. Winston glanced ac
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was still crouching secretively ove
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"Not one!" said Winston with a sort
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Oldspeak, with all its vagueness an
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Syme looked up. "Here comes Parsons
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Syme swallowed it. Was he, then, al
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Parsons had begun talking again. "D
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divorce, but it rather encouraged s
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women crowding round the stalls of
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The ideal set up by the Party was s
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the very moment of their re-lease.
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Freedom is the freedom to say that
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"Can't you bleeding well listen to
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"You're a gent," said the other, st
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"One of 'em pushed me once," said t
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thing that gleamed softly in the la
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were in it—all the principal ones
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un, he could not strike a blow. Bes
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Two IT WAS THE MIDDLE of the mornin
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it the imbecile Parsons flopped dow
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flat face and tiny, suspicious eyes
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"Yes." "Can you get Sunday afternoo
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she turned round and looked at him
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The first whiff of its scent had st
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had imagined it, she had torn her c
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As it happened, they never went bac
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wondered vaguely how many others li
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"Yes, dear, you would have. I would
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The tune had been haunting London f
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"There's been a lot of tea about la
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"Dearest! You've gone quite pale. W
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The weather was baking hot. In the
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would hold indefinitely, and they w
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"It was no good, because I threw it
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"I am usually at home in the evenin
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with rage when she stopped ladling,
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"We've been lucky," he said "but it
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"Yes," said O'Brien, "we can turn i
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"Yes." "To betray your country to f
Page 166 and 167: Goldstein. When you looked at O'Bri
Page 168 and 169: "Oranges and lemons, say the bells
Page 170 and 171: the political literature of five ye
Page 172 and 173: so for the past twenty-five years.
Page 174 and 175: overwork, dirt, illiteracy, and dis
Page 176 and 177: emaining activities in which the in
Page 178 and 179: as Obliteration of the Self. The ci
Page 180 and 181: They did not return to the subject
Page 182 and 183: of machine production, however, the
Page 184 and 185: also useful in keying up public mor
Page 186 and 187: the contradictions inherent in Ings
Page 188 and 189: circumstances, and were overthrown,
Page 190 and 191: outlived the "Hate Song." Julia wok
Page 192 and 193: "You are the dead," repeated the ir
Page 194 and 195: the Thought Police.
Page 196 and 197: forced-labor camps to which most of
Page 198 and 199: from the telescreen. It was even co
Page 200 and 201: "Of course I'm guilty!" cried Parso
Page 202 and 203: There was a gasp and a flurry at Wi
Page 204 and 205: II HE WAS LYING ON something that f
Page 206 and 207: The man in the white coat did not t
Page 208 and 209: "Another example," he said. "Some y
Page 210 and 211: He paused for a few moments, as tho
Page 212 and 213: count them, he could not remember w
Page 214 and 215: "Yes," said Winston. O'Brien smiled
Page 218 and 219: As always, Winston was lying flat o
Page 220 and 221: "We are the priests of power," he s
Page 222 and 223: the love of Big Brother. There will
Page 224 and 225: he had enrolled himself in the Brot
Page 226 and 227: O'Brien looked down at him thoughtf
Page 228 and 229: into his head. He wrote first in la
Page 230 and 231: the wrong, but he preferred to be i
Page 232 and 233: "In your case," said O'Brien, "the
Page 234 and 235: VI THE CHESTNUT TREE was almost emp
Page 236 and 237: Park, on a vile, biting day in Marc
Page 238 and 239: and teacup placed beside the bed ov
Page 240 and 241: He gazed up at the enormous face. F
Page 242 and 243: The A. vocabulary. The A vocabulary
Page 244 and 245: Some of the B words had highly subt
Page 246 and 247: The intention was to make speech, a
Page 248 and 249: writers, such as Shakespeare, Milto
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