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the love of Big Brother. There will be no laughter, except the laugh of triumph over a defeated enemy. There will be no art, no literature, no science. When we are omnipotent we shall have no more need of science. There will be no distinction between beauty and ugliness. There will be no curiosity, no enjoyment of the process of life. All competing pleasures will be destroyed. But always—do not forget this, Winston—always there will be the intoxication of power, constantly increasing and constantly growing subtler. Always, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory, the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless. If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face—forever." He paused as though he expected Winston to speak. Winston had tried to shrink back into the surface of the bed again. He could not say anything. His heart seemed to be frozen. O'Brien went on: "And remember that it is forever. The face will always be there to be stamped upon. The heretic, the enemy of society, will always be there, so that he can be defeated and humiliated over again. Everything that you have undergone since you have been in our hands—all that will continue, and worse. The espionage, the betrayals, the arrests, the tortures, the executions, the disappearances will never cease. It will be a world of terror as much as a world of triumph. The more the Party is powerful, the less it will be tolerant; the weaker the opposition, the tighter the despotism. Goldstein and his heresies will live forever. Every day, at every moment, they will be defeated, discredited, ridiculed, spat upon—and yet they will always survive. This drama that I have played out with you during seven years will be played out over and over again, generation after generation, always in subtler forms. Always we shall have the heretic here at our mercy, screaming with pain, broken up, contemptible—and in the end utterly penitent, saved from himself, crawling to our feet of his own accord. That is the world that we are preparing, Winston. A world of victory after victory, triumph after triumph after triumph: an endless pressing, pressing, pressing upon the nerve of power. You are beginning, I can see, to realize what that world will be like. But in the end you will do more than understand it. You will accept it, welcome it, become part of it." Winston had recovered himself sufficiently to speak. "You can't!" he said weakly. "What do you mean by that remark, Winston?" "You could not create such a world as you have just described. It is a dream. It is impossible." "Why?" "It is impossible to found a civilization on fear and hatred and cruelty. It would never endure." "Why not?" "It would have no vitality. It would disintegrate. It would commit suicide." "Nonsense. You are under the impression that hatred is more exhausting than love. Why should it be? And if it were, what difference would that make? Suppose that we choose to wear ourselves out faster. Suppose that we quicken the tempo of human life till men are senile at thirty. Still what
difference would it make? Can you not understand that the death of the individual is not death? The Party is immortal." As usual, the voice had battered Winston into helplessness. Moreover he was in dread that if he persisted in his disagreement O'Brien would twist the dial again. And yet he could not keep silent. Feebly, without arguments, with nothing to support him except his inarticulate horror of what O'Brien had said, he returned to the attack. "I don't know—I don't care. Somehow you will fail. Something will defeat you. Life will defeat you." "We control life, Winston, at all its levels. You are imagining that there is something called human nature which will be outraged by what we do and will turn against us. But we create human nature. Men are infinitely malleable. Or perhaps you have returned to your old idea that the proletarians or the slaves will arise and overthrow us. Put it out of your mind. They are helpless, like the animals. Humanity is the Party. The others are outside—irrelevant." "I don't care. In the end they will beat you. Sooner or later they will see you for what you are, and then they will tear you to pieces." "Do you see any evidence that that is happening? Or any reason why it should?" "No. I believe it. I know that you will fail. There is something in the universe—I don't know, some spirit, some principle—that you will never overcome." "Do you believe in God, Winston?" "No." "Then what is it, this principle that will defeat us?" "I don't know. The spirit of Man." "And do you consider yourself a man?" "Yes." "If you are a man, Winston, you are the last man. Your kind is extinct; we are the inheritors. Do you understand that you are alone? You are outside history, you are nonexistent." His manner changed and he said more harshly: "And you consider yourself morally superior to us, with our lies and our cruelty?" "Yes, I consider myself superior." O'Brien did not speak. Two other voices were speaking. After a moment Winston recognized one of them as his own. It was a sound track of the conversation he had had with O'Brien, on the night when
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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
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Goldstein. When you looked at O'Bri
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"Oranges and lemons, say the bells
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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 216 and 217: O'Brien held up the fingers of his
Page 218 and 219: As always, Winston was lying flat o
Page 220 and 221: "We are the priests of power," he s
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
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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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