Winston's Day
"Look out above, guv'nor" a prole yelled. Winston, having learned to trust the proles, lunged to his knees and put his hands over his head. Sure enough, an explosion happened less than a second later. The standard blue overalls that Winston always wore had specks of gravel, drywall, and the occasional blood stain on them. With much effort, Winston pulled himself to his feet, and turned for his work place. By looking at his face, you wouldn't have guessed what he was thinking. As Winston turned another corner, he saw the enlarged face of the notorious dictator, Big Brother.
"Curse the scum!" Winston thought, keeping a straight face. "DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER! Blast the party, those prigs!" In only a second, Winston had become deep in thought. Various other thoughts swarmed through his mind. Thoughts about the party's lies, and his own thought-crime. It was possible he wasn't keeping his face in control. Horrified, Winston faked a sneeze hoping that if someone had seen a dismayed look on his face, they would mistake it for the discomfort of a sneeze. Winston glanced around, checking for telescreens. In no time at all, he saw one. He quickly looked away.
In only a few more minutes, Winston had arrived, not only to his workplace, but he was already sitting down in his cubicle. A plane zoomed overhead, surprising him. What were the planes doing here at this time of day?
"Probably off to another war," thought Winston to himself. Of course they were off to a war! That's all that ever happened now... Winston quickly pushed the thoughts away. He was late this morning, and needed to hurry. Slowly he leaned over to the message hole, and found that one note was lying below it. With a sigh of the mind, he opened it and read what it said:
times 15.1.84 minipax malreported bb guessforeknow japan battle ungood outcome
rewrite musthaving extradoubleplusgood warfighter identbattle
Again, Winston mentally sighed. He hd a bit of trouble, but he knew what it basically meant in Oldspeak- On January 15, 1984, the Times (because of the Ministry of Peace) printed a mistake about Big Brother's prediction about the outcome of a Japanese battle. He now had to write about something extraordinary one of the soldiers in that same battle had done.
"Lies, lies, and more lies," Winston thought bitterly. Reluctantly (though without showing it), he pulled over the speakwrite to himself and started dictating. When he got to the part where he needed the soldier's name, he pressed in the date-indicating numbers under the newspaper tube. Scanning through the Times paper, he picked out the name Comrade Trilling.
He hastily shoved the newspaper and the note down the memory hole. He leaned back over the speakwrite, and continued dictating.
In almost record time, Winston had come out with a complete story about Comrade Trilling. This brave soldier had risked his life to sneak into the Japanese war camp, to retrieve secret documents that the Japanese had stolen. He got the documents, but was caught by the Japanese. Again, Trilling bravely risked his life to dash over to a fie and throw in the documents. He didn't cry out as he was shot in the thigh. He simply sat down, and waited for his death by the Japanese firing squad. Winston elaborated on the delicate procedure that Comrade Trilling had to do to get the documents.
"Hmmmm...," Winston thought as he scanned over the sheet. "It's still a bit short. What can I add on?" Suddenly Winston realized that nobody would believe what he had just composed because there was no possible way for another soldier to see what had happened from a mile away. So Winston added on about how Trilling had a companion, who dashed through hails of bullets to report back to the other soldiers. Again surveying his work, Winston nodded his self approval. He noticed that the annoying pest, Tillostin, was eyeing him. He shot back a glare (nothing too violent, for the telescreens), and went back to looking at his work. He noticed that there was a word which Syme had earlier told him no longer existed. With a casual shrug, Winston put the document in the message hole. It slide down the tube and, as Winton thought, it would probably end up in one of the main offices of the Ministry of Truth.
The telescreen emitted a loud beep, signaling a lunch break. With a grunt, Winston pushed himself up from his chair and walked to the canteen. While he was silently standing in the queue, he was joined by Parsons and a new (and probably temporary) worker, Comrade Crick. Winston began to speak to Parsons, but his voice didn't come out. He realized that it was probably because he hadn't talked at all that day. But then he realized the real reason. It was a natural reaction to keep himself from giving himself away. He was going to tell Parsons what he thought about all the lies in his workplace. Winston covered up with a cough, and then asked Parsons how work was going. Parsons drawled on. Winston pretending to listen. When Comrade Parsons had finally finished talking, the fellow comrades were not yet at the lunch counter, so Winston addressed Comrade Crick as to what he had done. Instead of pretending to listen, Winston listened with real enthusiasm. Crick's job always had surprises.
As Winston collected his lunch, his noticed the telescreen. It was a new one, positioned so that it was looking at you as you got your food.
"Too many blasted telescreens..." thought Winston with absolute hate. However, he moved on to a table. Parsons joined him, and later, Syme. Crick had disappeared. For the good part of an hour, they ate an talked. Winston had noticed that they were positioned right under a telescreen. This made him very uncomfortable. He resolved to go to his cubicle and do some more work. But he didn't have the chance. Just as he started to file some report papers from the Ministry of Plenty, the telescreen announced the two-minute hate. Anger boiled up in Winston. Yet, he didn't show anything (for his life), and walked to the designated area. A few minutes later, the hate started. It showed a deformed figure of Emmanuel Goldstein. The figure was "bleating" hate towards the party. Winston tried not to do anything as the picture of a Eurasian troop marched across the screen.
"Blasphemy, complete blasphemy," This time, Winston actually spoke. He quickly looked around (another further mistake) to see if anyone had noticed. They hadn't but Winston knew now. He knew that his death was just around the corner. But his thoughts were interrupted by the hate. It had finally stirred up in him, and even though he treasured Goldstein more than Big Brother, he couldn't help joining in. After many more screams, yells, and shouts of despise, the hate ended. Exhausted, Winston made his way back to his cubicle. He couldn't believe what was happening in this world.
"Down with Big Brother," he thought to himself, "Up with the Brotherhood. Up with Goldsteinism." Resignedly. Winston continued filing the records. He continued on this task till the end of the workday. Cautiously, he walked back to his flat and lay down on his bed. He knew he was a dead man. His entire life came to his mind. His tyrannic childhood, his confusing teens years, his life now, and the party. Oh, how he hated party! He would give so much to demolish it. Winston looked over at the telescreen. A man with a goatee was reading off the results of a recent battle. Not the same Winston had worked on, but a different one. Winston went back to his thoughts. It was inevitable, he must join the Brotherhood. He must do whatever he could to stop the party. But first, he needed to find someone else, for there is strength in numbers. How could he do that?
Winston got up off his bed, and went to the door. As he always did when he was thinking about something trivial, he went to the open market. The prole's quarters. For some reason, he adored walking down these streets, even though it was crowded. He guessed that he liked being there because, even though there were telescreens, they weren't necessarily focused on him. Winston hated Big Brother. He hated the lies that they told. The party had invented aeroplanes-hah! And Winston was positive that there was once a time when Oceania was not at war. While thinking these things, he had wandered into a shop.
"No sense just leaving when I just got here," Winston decided. He casually glanced around for something that might catch his eye. And soon he found such a thing. A crystal drinking glass sat shimmering in the daylight. Winston had always loved old and pretty things. The thought of buying the glass entered his mind, but he pushed it away immediately. It'd be too suspicious. Almost everything now aroused suspicion with the party. Disgusted, Winston left the sop and went to a back alley. He was disgusted because of the party. The lying cheaters. He hated them. As if by instinct, Winston picked up a piece of metal wire from off the ground. In the dust on the cement, he traced words:
DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER
UP WITH THE BROTHERHOOD
2+2=4
THE PARTY LIES
WAR IS NOT PEACE
IGNORANCE IS NOT STRENGTH
FREEDOM IS NOT SLAVERY
Winston gasped in horror! What if someone discovered this, or someone had seen him. With haste, Winston messed up the words, and walked (nearly ran) away from the spot. He didn't stop at all until he was back at his flat, and in his "hidden chair". For yet another time, Winston thought "I am a dead man." And it was true. He was as good as dead.
There was a lecture that night in Winston's work department, Recdep (in Oldspeak, Records Department). It was about the need of proper records to educate the young. For another reason or other, Winston and his department would have more work. Work to teach innocent children lies. It was all Winston could do to keep from yelling "YOU LIARS!" He couldn't stand it. He left the lecture early (a rash act), and walked down the open market again. It was nearly twenty-one before Winston returned to his flat. He quickly undressed and jumped into bed. He wanted to push the whole day's memories away from his life. So he lie in bed, staring at the walls, thinking nothing. He moved his position and saw what was on the telescreen.
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
Winston hated the party. Winston hated Big Brother. This last thought he had before he fell asleep was "May the brotherhood succeed..."
The End
*************************
A/N: Hey- don't flame me if I have some things that aren't precise. I wasn't too attentive whie reading the book. We all make mistakes sometime, don't we? Of course we do.
*************************
"Look out above, guv'nor" a prole yelled. Winston, having learned to trust the proles, lunged to his knees and put his hands over his head. Sure enough, an explosion happened less than a second later. The standard blue overalls that Winston always wore had specks of gravel, drywall, and the occasional blood stain on them. With much effort, Winston pulled himself to his feet, and turned for his work place. By looking at his face, you wouldn't have guessed what he was thinking. As Winston turned another corner, he saw the enlarged face of the notorious dictator, Big Brother.
"Curse the scum!" Winston thought, keeping a straight face. "DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER! Blast the party, those prigs!" In only a second, Winston had become deep in thought. Various other thoughts swarmed through his mind. Thoughts about the party's lies, and his own thought-crime. It was possible he wasn't keeping his face in control. Horrified, Winston faked a sneeze hoping that if someone had seen a dismayed look on his face, they would mistake it for the discomfort of a sneeze. Winston glanced around, checking for telescreens. In no time at all, he saw one. He quickly looked away.
In only a few more minutes, Winston had arrived, not only to his workplace, but he was already sitting down in his cubicle. A plane zoomed overhead, surprising him. What were the planes doing here at this time of day?
"Probably off to another war," thought Winston to himself. Of course they were off to a war! That's all that ever happened now... Winston quickly pushed the thoughts away. He was late this morning, and needed to hurry. Slowly he leaned over to the message hole, and found that one note was lying below it. With a sigh of the mind, he opened it and read what it said:
times 15.1.84 minipax malreported bb guessforeknow japan battle ungood outcome
rewrite musthaving extradoubleplusgood warfighter identbattle
Again, Winston mentally sighed. He hd a bit of trouble, but he knew what it basically meant in Oldspeak- On January 15, 1984, the Times (because of the Ministry of Peace) printed a mistake about Big Brother's prediction about the outcome of a Japanese battle. He now had to write about something extraordinary one of the soldiers in that same battle had done.
"Lies, lies, and more lies," Winston thought bitterly. Reluctantly (though without showing it), he pulled over the speakwrite to himself and started dictating. When he got to the part where he needed the soldier's name, he pressed in the date-indicating numbers under the newspaper tube. Scanning through the Times paper, he picked out the name Comrade Trilling.
He hastily shoved the newspaper and the note down the memory hole. He leaned back over the speakwrite, and continued dictating.
In almost record time, Winston had come out with a complete story about Comrade Trilling. This brave soldier had risked his life to sneak into the Japanese war camp, to retrieve secret documents that the Japanese had stolen. He got the documents, but was caught by the Japanese. Again, Trilling bravely risked his life to dash over to a fie and throw in the documents. He didn't cry out as he was shot in the thigh. He simply sat down, and waited for his death by the Japanese firing squad. Winston elaborated on the delicate procedure that Comrade Trilling had to do to get the documents.
"Hmmmm...," Winston thought as he scanned over the sheet. "It's still a bit short. What can I add on?" Suddenly Winston realized that nobody would believe what he had just composed because there was no possible way for another soldier to see what had happened from a mile away. So Winston added on about how Trilling had a companion, who dashed through hails of bullets to report back to the other soldiers. Again surveying his work, Winston nodded his self approval. He noticed that the annoying pest, Tillostin, was eyeing him. He shot back a glare (nothing too violent, for the telescreens), and went back to looking at his work. He noticed that there was a word which Syme had earlier told him no longer existed. With a casual shrug, Winston put the document in the message hole. It slide down the tube and, as Winton thought, it would probably end up in one of the main offices of the Ministry of Truth.
The telescreen emitted a loud beep, signaling a lunch break. With a grunt, Winston pushed himself up from his chair and walked to the canteen. While he was silently standing in the queue, he was joined by Parsons and a new (and probably temporary) worker, Comrade Crick. Winston began to speak to Parsons, but his voice didn't come out. He realized that it was probably because he hadn't talked at all that day. But then he realized the real reason. It was a natural reaction to keep himself from giving himself away. He was going to tell Parsons what he thought about all the lies in his workplace. Winston covered up with a cough, and then asked Parsons how work was going. Parsons drawled on. Winston pretending to listen. When Comrade Parsons had finally finished talking, the fellow comrades were not yet at the lunch counter, so Winston addressed Comrade Crick as to what he had done. Instead of pretending to listen, Winston listened with real enthusiasm. Crick's job always had surprises.
As Winston collected his lunch, his noticed the telescreen. It was a new one, positioned so that it was looking at you as you got your food.
"Too many blasted telescreens..." thought Winston with absolute hate. However, he moved on to a table. Parsons joined him, and later, Syme. Crick had disappeared. For the good part of an hour, they ate an talked. Winston had noticed that they were positioned right under a telescreen. This made him very uncomfortable. He resolved to go to his cubicle and do some more work. But he didn't have the chance. Just as he started to file some report papers from the Ministry of Plenty, the telescreen announced the two-minute hate. Anger boiled up in Winston. Yet, he didn't show anything (for his life), and walked to the designated area. A few minutes later, the hate started. It showed a deformed figure of Emmanuel Goldstein. The figure was "bleating" hate towards the party. Winston tried not to do anything as the picture of a Eurasian troop marched across the screen.
"Blasphemy, complete blasphemy," This time, Winston actually spoke. He quickly looked around (another further mistake) to see if anyone had noticed. They hadn't but Winston knew now. He knew that his death was just around the corner. But his thoughts were interrupted by the hate. It had finally stirred up in him, and even though he treasured Goldstein more than Big Brother, he couldn't help joining in. After many more screams, yells, and shouts of despise, the hate ended. Exhausted, Winston made his way back to his cubicle. He couldn't believe what was happening in this world.
"Down with Big Brother," he thought to himself, "Up with the Brotherhood. Up with Goldsteinism." Resignedly. Winston continued filing the records. He continued on this task till the end of the workday. Cautiously, he walked back to his flat and lay down on his bed. He knew he was a dead man. His entire life came to his mind. His tyrannic childhood, his confusing teens years, his life now, and the party. Oh, how he hated party! He would give so much to demolish it. Winston looked over at the telescreen. A man with a goatee was reading off the results of a recent battle. Not the same Winston had worked on, but a different one. Winston went back to his thoughts. It was inevitable, he must join the Brotherhood. He must do whatever he could to stop the party. But first, he needed to find someone else, for there is strength in numbers. How could he do that?
Winston got up off his bed, and went to the door. As he always did when he was thinking about something trivial, he went to the open market. The prole's quarters. For some reason, he adored walking down these streets, even though it was crowded. He guessed that he liked being there because, even though there were telescreens, they weren't necessarily focused on him. Winston hated Big Brother. He hated the lies that they told. The party had invented aeroplanes-hah! And Winston was positive that there was once a time when Oceania was not at war. While thinking these things, he had wandered into a shop.
"No sense just leaving when I just got here," Winston decided. He casually glanced around for something that might catch his eye. And soon he found such a thing. A crystal drinking glass sat shimmering in the daylight. Winston had always loved old and pretty things. The thought of buying the glass entered his mind, but he pushed it away immediately. It'd be too suspicious. Almost everything now aroused suspicion with the party. Disgusted, Winston left the sop and went to a back alley. He was disgusted because of the party. The lying cheaters. He hated them. As if by instinct, Winston picked up a piece of metal wire from off the ground. In the dust on the cement, he traced words:
DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER
UP WITH THE BROTHERHOOD
2+2=4
THE PARTY LIES
WAR IS NOT PEACE
IGNORANCE IS NOT STRENGTH
FREEDOM IS NOT SLAVERY
Winston gasped in horror! What if someone discovered this, or someone had seen him. With haste, Winston messed up the words, and walked (nearly ran) away from the spot. He didn't stop at all until he was back at his flat, and in his "hidden chair". For yet another time, Winston thought "I am a dead man." And it was true. He was as good as dead.
There was a lecture that night in Winston's work department, Recdep (in Oldspeak, Records Department). It was about the need of proper records to educate the young. For another reason or other, Winston and his department would have more work. Work to teach innocent children lies. It was all Winston could do to keep from yelling "YOU LIARS!" He couldn't stand it. He left the lecture early (a rash act), and walked down the open market again. It was nearly twenty-one before Winston returned to his flat. He quickly undressed and jumped into bed. He wanted to push the whole day's memories away from his life. So he lie in bed, staring at the walls, thinking nothing. He moved his position and saw what was on the telescreen.
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
Winston hated the party. Winston hated Big Brother. This last thought he had before he fell asleep was "May the brotherhood succeed..."
The End
*************************
A/N: Hey- don't flame me if I have some things that aren't precise. I wasn't too attentive whie reading the book. We all make mistakes sometime, don't we? Of course we do.
*************************