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Part 1, Chapter 1
Part One
1
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
He gazed up at the enormous face. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.
Comments2
Why 1984.24: âThere's no telescreen!â âToo expensive.'
âThere's no telescreen!â he could not help murmuring.
âAh,â said the old man, âI never had one of those things. Too expensive. And I never seemed to feel the need of it, somehow. Now that's a nice gateleg table in the corner there. Though of course you'd have to put new hinges on it if you wanted to use the flaps.â
WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH