The Chestnut1 Tree was almost empty. A ray of sunlight slanting2 through a window fell on dusty table-tops. It was the lonely hour of fifteen. A tinny music trickled3 from the telescreens.
Winston sat in his usual corner, gazing into an empty glass. Now and again he glanced up at a vast face which eyed him from the opposite wall. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption4 said. Unbidden, a waiter came and filled his glass up with Victory Gin, shaking into it a few drops from another bottle with a quill5 through the cork6. It was saccharine7 flavoured with cloves8, the speciality of the cafe.
Winston was listening to the telescreen. At present only music was coming out of it, but there was a possibility that at any moment there might be a special bulletin from the Ministry9 of Peace. The news from the African front was disquieting10 in the extreme. On and off he had been worrying about it all day. A Eurasian army (Oceania was at war with Eurasia: Oceania had always been at war with Eurasia) was moving southward at terrifying speed. The mid-day bulletin had not mentioned any definite area, but it was probable that already the mouth of the Congo was a battlefield. Brazzaville and Leopoldville were in danger. One did not have to look at the map to see what it meant. It was not merely a question of losing Central Africa: for the first time in the whole war, the territory of Oceania itself was menaced.
A violent emotion, not fear exactly but a sort of undifferentiated excitement, flared11 up in him, then faded again. He stopped thinking about the war. In these days he could never fix his mind on any one subject for more than a few moments at a time. He picked up his glass and drained it at a gulp12. As always, the gin made him shudder13 and even retch slightly. The stuff was horrible. The cloves and saccharine, themselves disgusting enough in their sickly way, could not disguise the flat oily smell; and what was worst of all was that the smell of gin, which dwelt with him night and day, was inextricably mixed up in his mind with the smell of those --
He never named them, even in his thoughts, and so far as it was possible he never visualized14 them. They were something that he was half-aware of, hovering15 close to his face, a smell that clung to his nostrils16. As the gin rose in him he belched17 through purple lips. He had grown fatter since they released him, and had regained18 his old colour -- indeed, more than regained it. His features had thickened, the skin on nose and cheekbones was coarsely red, even the bald scalp was too deep a pink. A waiter, again unbidden, brought the chessboard and the current issue of The Times, with the page turned down at the chess problem. Then, seeing that Winston's glass was empty, he brought the gin bottle and filled it. There was no need to give orders. They knew his habits. The chessboard was always waiting for him, his corner table was always reserved; even when the place was full he had it to himself, since nobody cared to be seen sitting too close to him. He never even bothered to count his drinks. At irregular intervals19 they presented him with a dirty slip of paper which they said was the bill, but he had the impression that they always undercharged him. It would have made no difference if it had been the other way about. He had always plenty of money nowadays. He even had a job, a sinecure20, more highly-paid than his old job had been.
The music from the telescreen stopped and a voice took over. Winston raised his head to listen. No bulletins from the front, however. It was merely a brief announcement from the Ministry of Plenty. In the preceding quarter, it appeared, the Tenth Three-Year Plan's quota22 for bootlaces had been over-fulfilled by 98 per cent.
He examined the chess problem and set out the pieces. It was a tricky23 ending, involving a couple of knights25. 'White to play and mate in two moves.' Winston looked up at the portrait of Big Brother. White always mates, he thought with a sort of cloudy mysticism. Always, without exception, it is so arranged. In no chess problem since the beginning of the world has black ever won. Did it not symbolize26 the eternal, unvarying triumph of Good over Evil? The huge face gazed back at him, full of calm power. White always mates.
The voice from the telescreen paused and added in a different and much graver tone: 'You are warned to stand by for an important announcement at fifteen-thirty. Fifteen-thirty! This is news of the highest importance. Take care not to miss it. Fifteen-thirty!' The tinking music struck up again.
Winston's heart stirred. That was the bulletin from the front; instinct told him that it was bad news that was coming. All day, with little spurts27 of excitement, the thought of a smashing defeat in Africa had been in and out of his mind. He seemed actually to see the Eurasian army swarming28 across the never-broken frontier and pouring down into the tip of Africa like a column of ants. Why had it not been possible to outflank them in some way? The outline of the West African coast stood out vividly29 in his mind. He picked up the white knight24 and moved it across the board. There was the proper spot. Even while he saw the black horde30 racing31 southward he saw another force, mysteriously assembled, suddenly planted in their rear, cutting their comunications by land and sea. He felt that by willing it he was bringing that other force into existence. But it was necessary to act quickly. If they could get control of the whole of Africa, if they had airfields32 and submarine bases at the Cape33, it would cut Oceania in two. It might mean anything: defeat, breakdown34, the redivision of the world, the destruction of the Party! He drew a deep breath. An extraordinary medley35 of feeling -- but it was not a medley, exactly; rather it was successive layers of feeling, in which one could not say which layer was undermost -- struggled inside him.
The spasm36 passed. He put the white knight back in its place, but for the moment he could not settle down to serious study of the chess problem. His thoughts wandered again. Almost unconsciously he traced with his finger in the dust on the table:
2+2=5
'They can't get inside you,' she had said. But they could get inside you. 'What happens to you here is for ever,' O'Brien had said. That was a true word. There were things, your own acts, from which you could never recover. Something was killed in your breast: burnt out, cauterized37 out.
He had seen her; he had even spoken to her. There was no danger in it. He knew as though instinctively38 that they now took almost no interest in his doings. He could have arranged to meet her a second time if either of them had wanted to. Actually it was by chance that they had met. It was in the Park, on a vile39, biting day in March, when the earth was like iron and all the grass seemed dead and there was not a bud anywhere except a few crocuses which had pushed themselves up to be dismembered by the wind. He was hurrying along with frozen hands and watering eyes when he saw her not ten metres away from him. It struck him at once that she had changed in some ill-defined way. They almost passed one another without a sign, then he turned and followed her, not very eagerly. He knew that there was no danger, nobody would take any interest in him. She did not speak. She walked obliquely40 away across the grass as though trying to get rid of him, then seemed to resign herself to having him at her side. Presently they were in among a clump41 of ragged42 leafless shrubs43, useless either for concealment44 or as protection from the wind. They halted. It was vilely45 cold. The wind whistled through the twigs46 and fretted48 the occasional, dirty-looking crocuses. He put his arm round her waist.
There was no telescreen, but there must be hidden microphones: besides, they could be seen. It did not matter, nothing mattered. They could have lain down on the ground and done that if they had wanted to. His flesh froze with horror at the thought of it. She made no response whatever to the clasp of his arm; she did not even try to disengage herself. He knew now what had changed in her. Her face was sallower, and there was a long scar, partly hidden by the hair, across her forehead and temple; but that was not the change. It was that her waist had grown thicker, and, in a surprising way, had stiffened49. He remembered how once, after the explosion of a rocket bomb, he had helped to drag a corpse50 out of some ruins, and had been astonished not only by the incredible weight of the thing, but by its rigidity51 and awkwardness to handle, which made it seem more like stone than flesh. Her body felt like that. It occurred to him that the texture52 of her skin would be quite different from what it had once been.
He did not attempt to kiss her, nor did they speak. As they walked back across the grass, she looked directly at him for the first time. It was only a momentary53 glance, full of contempt and dislike. He wondered whether it was a dislike that came purely54 out of the past or whether it was inspired also by his bloated face and the water that the wind kept squeezing from his eyes. They sat down on two iron chairs, side by side but not too close together. He saw that she was about to speak. She moved her clumsy shoe a few centimetres and deliberately55 crushed a twig47. Her feet seemed to have grown broader, he noticed.
'I betrayed you,' she said baldly.
'I betrayed you,' he said.
She gave him another quick look of dislike.
'Sometimes,' she said, 'they threaten you with something -- something you can't stand up to, can't even think about. And then you say, "Don't do it to me, do it to somebody else, do it to So-and-so." And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick and that you just said it to make them stop and didn't really mean it. But that isn't true. At the time when it happens you do mean it. You think there's no other way of saving yourself, and you're quite ready to save yourself that way. You want it to happen to the other person. You don't give a damn what they suffer. All you care about is yourself.'
'All you care about is yourself,' he echoed.
'And after that, you don't feel the same towards the other person any longer.'
'No,' he said, 'you don't feel the same.'
There did not seem to be anything more to say. The wind plastered their thin overalls56 against their bodies. Almost at once it became embarrassing to sit there in silence: besides, it was too cold to keep still. She said something about catching57 her Tube and stood up to go.
'We must meet again,' he said.
'Yes,' she said, 'we must meet again.'
He followed irresolutely58 for a little distance, half a pace behind her. They did not speak again. She did not actually try to shake him off, but walked at just such a speed as to prevent his keeping abreast59 of her. He had made up his mind that he would accompany her as far as the Tube station, but suddenly this process of trailing along in the cold seemed pointless and unbearable60. He was overwhelmed by a desire not so much to get away from Julia as to get back to the Chestnut Tree Cafe, which had never seemed so attractive as at this moment. He had a nostalgic vision of his corner table, with the newspaper and the chessboard and the everflowing gin. Above all, it would be warm in there. The next moment, not altogether by accident, he allowed himself to become separated from her by a small knot of people. He made a half-hearted attempt to catch up, then slowed down, turned, and made off in the opposite direction. When he had gone fifty metres he looked back. The street was not crowded, but already he could not distinguish her. Any one of a dozen hurrying figures might have been hers. Perhaps her thickened, stiffened body was no longer recognizable from behind.
'At the time when it happens,' she had said, 'you do mean it.' He had meant it. He had not merely said it, he had wished it. He had wished that she and not he should be delivered over to the --
Something changed in the music that trickled from the telescreen. A cracked and jeering61 note, a yellow note, came into it. And then -- perhaps it was not happening, perhaps it was only a memory taking on the semblance62 of sound -- a voice was singing:
'Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me --'
The tears welled up in his eyes. A passing waiter noticed that his glass was empty and came back with the gin bottle.
He took up his glass and sniffed63 at it. The stuff grew not less but more horrible with every mouthful he drank. But it had become the element he swam in. It was his life, his death, and his resurrection. It was gin that sank him into stupor64 every night, and gin that revived him every morning. When he woke, seldom before eleven hundred, with gummed-up eyelids65 and fiery66 mouth and a back that seemed to be broken, it would have been impossible even to rise from the horizontal if it had not been for the bottle and teacup placed beside the bed overnight. Through the midday hours he sat with glazed67 face, the bottle handy, listening to the telescreen. From fifteen to closing-time he was a fixture68 in the Chestnut Tree. No one cared what he did any longer, no whistle woke him, no telescreen admonished69 him. Occasionally, perhaps twice a week, he went to a dusty, forgotten-looking office in the Ministry of Truth and did a little work, or what was called work. He had been appointed to a sub-committee of a sub-committee which had sprouted70 from one of the innumerable committees dealing72 with minor73 difficulties that arose in the compilation74 of the Eleventh Edition of the Newspeak Dictionary. They were engaged in producing something called an Interim75 Report, but what it was that they were reporting on he had never definitely found out. It was something to do with the question of whether commas should be placed inside brackets, or outside. There were four others on the committee, all of them persons similar to himself. There were days when they assembled and then promptly76 dispersed77 again, frankly78 admitting to one another that there was not really anything to be done. But there were other days when they settled down to their work almost eagerly, making a tremendous show of entering up their minutes and drafting long memoranda79 which were never finished -- when the argument as to what they were supposedly arguing about grew extraordinarily80 involved and abstruse81, with subtle haggling82 over definitions, enormous digressions, quarrels, threats, even, to appeal to higher authority. And then suddenly the life would go out of them and they would sit round the table looking at one another with extinct eyes, like ghosts fading at cock-crow.
The telescreen was silent for a moment. Winston raised his head again. The bulletin! But no, they were merely changing the music. He had the map of Africa behind his eyelids. The movement of the armies was a diagram: a black arrow tearing vertically83 southward, and a white arrow horizontally eastward84, across the tail of the first. As though for reassurance85 he looked up at the imperturbable86 face in the portrait. Was it conceivable that the second arrow did not even exist?
His interest flagged again. He drank another mouthful of gin, picked up the white knight and made a tentative move. Check. But it was evidently not the right move, because --
Uncalled, a memory floated into his mind. He saw a candle-lit room with a vast white-counterpaned bed, and himself, a boy of nine or ten, sitting on the floor, shaking a dice87-box, and laughing excitedly. His mother was sitting opposite him and also laughing.
It must have been about a month before she disappeared. It was a moment of reconciliation88, when the nagging89 hunger in his belly90 was forgotten and his earlier affection for her had temporarily revived. He remembered the day well, a pelting91, drenching92 day when the water streamed down the window-pane and the light indoors was too dull to read by. The boredom93 of the two children in the dark, cramped94 bedroom became unbearable. Winston whined95 and grizzled, made futile96 demands for food, fretted about the room pulling everything out of place and kicking the wainscoting until the neighbours banged on the wall, while the younger child wailed97 intermittently98. In the end his mother said, 'Now be good, and I'Il buy you a toy. A lovely toy -- you'll love it'; and then she had gone out in the rain, to a little general shop which was still sporadically99 open nearby, and came back with a cardboard box containing an outfit100 of Snakes and Ladders. He could still remember the smell of the damp cardboard. It was a miserable101 outfit. The board was cracked and the tiny wooden dice were so ill-cut that they would hardly lie on their sides. Winston looked at the thing sulkily and without interest. But then his mother lit a piece of candle and they sat down on the floor to play. Soon he was wildly excited and shouting with laughter as the tiddly-winks climbed hopefully up the ladders and then came slithering down the snakes again, almost to the starting-point. They played eight games, winning four each. His tiny sister, too young to understand what the game was about, had sat propped102 up against a bolster103, laughing because the others were laughing. For a whole afternoon they had all been happy together, as in his earlier childhood.
He pushed the picture out of his mind. It was a false memory. He was troubled by false memories occasionally. They did not matter so long as one knew them for what they were. Some things had happened, others had not happened. He turned back to the chessboard and picked up the white knight again. Almost in the same instant it dropped on to the board with a clatter104. He had started as though a pin had run into him.
A shrill105 trumpet-call had pierced the air. It was the bulletin! Victory! It always meant victory when a trumpet-call preceded the news. A sort of electric drill ran through the cafe. Even the waiters had started and pricked106 up their ears.
The trumpet-call had let loose an enormous volume of noise. Already an excited voice was gabbling from the telescreen, but even as it started it was almost drowned by a roar of cheering from outside. The news had run round the streets like magic. He could hear just enough of what was issuing from the telescreen to realize that it had all happened, as he had foreseen; a vast seaborne armada had secretly assembled a sudden blow in the enemy's rear, the white arrow tearing across the tail of the black. Fragments of triumphant107 phrases pushed themselves through the din21: 'Vast strategic manoeuvre108 -- perfect co-ordination -- utter rout71 -- half a million prisoners -- complete demoralization -- control of the whole of Africa -- bring the war within measurable distance of its end victory -- greatest victory in human history -- victory, victory, victory!'
Under the table Winston's feet made convulsive movements. He had not stirred from his seat, but in his mind he was running, swiftly running, he was with the crowds outside, cheering himself deaf. He looked up again at the portrait of Big Brother. The colossus that bestrode the world! The rock against which the hordes109 of Asia dashed themselves in vain! He thought how ten minutes ago -- yes, only ten minutes -- there had still been equivocation110 in his heart as he wondered whether the news from the front would be of victory or defeat. Ah, it was more than a Eurasian army that had perished! Much had changed in him since that first day in the Ministry of Love, but the final, indispensable, healing change had never happened, until this moment.
The voice from the telescreen was still pouring forth111 its tale of prisoners and booty and slaughter112, but the shouting outside had died down a little. The waiters were turning back to their work. One of them approached with the gin bottle. Winston, sitting in a blissful dream, paid no attention as his glass was filled up. He was not running or cheering any longer. He was back in the Ministry of Love, with everything forgiven, his soul white as snow. He was in the public dock, confessing everything, implicating113 everybody. He was walking down the white-tiled corridor, with the feeling of walking in sunlight, and an armed guard at his back. The longhoped-for bullet was entering his brain.
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.
栗树咖啡馆里阒无一人。一道阳光从窗口斜照进来，照在积了灰尘的桌面上有些发黄。这是寂寞的十五点。电幕上传来一阵轻微的音乐声。
温斯顿坐在他惯常坐的角落里，对着一只空杯子发呆。他过一阵子就抬起头来看一眼对面墙上的那张大脸。下面的文字说明是：老大哥在看着你。服务员不等招呼就上来为他斟满了一杯胜利牌杜松子酒，从另外一只瓶子里倒几粒有丁香味的糖精在里面，这是栗树咖啡馆的特殊风味。
温斯顿在听着电幕的广播。目前只有音乐，但很可能随时会广播和平部的特别公报。非洲前线的消息极其令人不安。他一整天总是为此感到担心。欧亚国的一支军队 (大洋国在同欧亚国打仗；大洋国一直在和欧亚国打仗)南进神速。中午的公报没有说具体的地点，但很可能战场已移到刚果河口。布拉柴维尔和利奥彼德维尔已危在旦夕。不用看地图也知道这意味着什么。这不仅是丧失中非问题，而且在整个战争中，大洋国本土第一次受到了威胁。
他心中忽然感到一阵激动，很难说是恐惧，这是一种莫名的激动，但马上又平息下去了。他不再去想战争。这些日子里，他对任何事情，都无法集中思想到几分钟以上。他拿起酒杯一饮而尽。象往常一样，他感到一阵哆嗦，甚至有些恶心。这玩意儿可够呛。丁香油和糖精本来就已够令人恶心的，更盖不过杜松子酒的油味儿。最糟糕的是杜松子酒味在他身上日夜不散，使他感到同那——臭味不可分解地混合在一起。
即使在他思想里，他也从来不指明那——是什么，只要能办到，他就尽量不去想它们的形状。它们是他隐隐约约想起的东西，在他面前上窜下跳，臭味刺鼻。他的肚子里，杜松子翻起了胃，他张开发紫的嘴唇打个嗝。他们放他出来后，他就发胖了，恢复了原来的脸色——说实话比原来还好。他的线条粗了起来，鼻子上和脸颊上的皮肤发红，甚至秃光瓢也太红了一些。服务员又没有等他招呼就送上棋盘和当天的《泰晤士报》来，还把刊登棋艺栏的一页打开。看到温斯顿酒杯已空，又端瓶斟满。不需要叫酒。他们知道他的习惯。棋盘总是等着他，他这角落的桌子总是给他留着；甚至座上客满时，他这桌子也只有他一位客人，因为没有人愿意挨着他太近。他甚至从来不记一下喝了几杯。过一会儿，他们就送一张脏纸条来，他们说是帐单，但是他觉得他们总是少算了帐。即使倒过来多算了帐也无所谓。他如今总不缺钱花。他甚至还有一个工作，一个挂名差使，比他原来的工作的待遇要好多了。
电幕上乐声中断，有人说话。温斯顿抬起头来听。不过不是前线来的公报，不过是富裕部的一则简短公告。原来上一季度第十个三中计划鞋带产量超额完成百分之九十八。
他看了一下报纸上的那局难棋，就把棋子摆了开来。这局棋结局很巧妙，关键在两只相。“白子先走，两步将死。”
温斯顿抬头一看老大哥的画像。白子总将死对方，他带着一种模模糊糊的神秘感觉这么想。总是毫无例外地这样安排好棋局的。自开天辟地以来，任何难棋中从来没有黑子取胜的。
这是不是象征善永远战胜恶？那张庞大的脸看着他，神情安详，充满力量。白子总是将死对方。
电幕上的声音停了一下，又用一种严肃得多的不同口气说：“十五点三十分有重要公告，请注意收听。十五点三十分有重要消息，请注意收听，不要错过。十五点三十分。”丁当的音乐声又起。
温斯顿心中一阵乱。这是前线来的公报；他根据本能知道这一定是坏消息。他这一整天时断时续地想到在非洲可能吃了大败仗，这就感到一阵兴奋。他好象真的看到了欧亚国的军队蜂拥而过从来没有突破过的边界，象一队蚂蚁似的拥到了非洲的下端。为什么没有办法从侧翼包抄他们呢？他的脑海里清晰地出现了西非海岸的轮廓。他拣起白色的相朝前走了一步。这一着走的是地方。甚至在他看到黑色的大军往南疾驰的时候，他也看到另外一支大军，不知在什么地方集合起来，突然出现在他们的后方，割断了他们的陆海交通。他觉得由于自已主观这样愿望，另一支大军在实际上出现了。
但是必须立刻行动。如果让他们控制了整个非洲，让他们取得好望角的机场和潜艇基地，大洋国就要切成两半。可能的后果是不堪设想的：战败、崩溃、重新划分世界、党的毁灭！
他深深地吸一口气。一种奇怪的交杂的感情——不过不完全是复杂的，而是层层的感情，只是不知道最底下一层是什么——在他的内心中斗争着。
这一阵心乱如麻过去了。他把白色的相又放回来。不过这时他无法安定下来认真考虑难局问题。他的思想又开了小差。他不自觉地在桌上的尘埃上用手指涂抹：
2+2=5。
她说过，“他们不能钻到你体内去。”但是他们能够。奥勃良说过，“你在这里碰到的事情是永远不灭的。”这话不错。
有些事情，你自己的行为，是无法挽回的。你的心胸里有什么东西已经给掐死了，烧死了，腐蚀掉了。
他看到过她；他甚至同她说过话。已经不再有什么危险了。他凭本能知道，他们现在对他的所作所为已几乎不发生兴趣。如果他们两人有谁愿意，他可以安排同她再碰头一次。他们那次碰到是偶然的事。那是在公园里，三月间有一天天气很不好，冷得彻骨，地上冻成铁块一样，草都死了，到处都没有新芽，只有一些藏红花露头，但被寒风都吹刮跑了。他们交臂而过，视同陌路人。但是他却转过身来跟着她，不过并不很热心。他知道没有危险，谁都对他们不发生兴趣。她没有说话。她在草地上斜穿过去，好象是要想甩开他，可是后来见到甩不开，就让他走到身旁来。他们走着走着就走到掉光了叶子的枯丛中间，这个枯丛既不能躲人又不能防风。他们却停下步来。这一天冷得厉害。寒风穿过枯枝，有时把发脏的藏红花吹刮跑了。他把胳膊搂住了她的腰。
周围没有电幕，但很可能有隐藏的话筒，而且，他们是在光天化日之下。但是这没有关系，什么事情都已没有关系了。如果他们愿意，也可以在地上躺下来干那个。一想到这点，他的肌肉就吓得发僵。她对他的搂抱毫无任何反应。她甚至连摆脱也不想摆脱。他现在知道了她发生了什么变化。
她的脸瘦了，还有一条长疤，从前额一直到太阳穴，有一半给头发遮住了；不过所谓变化，指的不是这个。是她的腰比以前粗了，而且很奇怪，比以前僵硬。他记得有一次，在火箭弹爆炸以后，他帮助别人从废墟里拖出一具尸体来，他很吃惊地发现，不仅尸体沉重得令人难以相信，而且僵硬得不象人体而象石块，很不好抬。她的身体也使你感到那样。他不禁想到她的皮肤一定没有以前那么细腻了。
他没有想去吻她，他们俩也没有说话。他们后来往回走过大门时，她这才第一次正视他。这只不过是短暂的一瞥，充满了轻蔑和憎恶。他不知道这种憎恶完全出诸过去，还是也由于他的浮肿的脸和风刮得眼睛流泪而引起的。他们在两把铁椅上并肩坐了下来，但没有挨得太近。他看到她张口要说话。她把她的笨重的鞋子移动几毫米，有意踩断了一根小树枝。他注意到她的脚似乎比以前宽了。
“我出卖了你，”她若无其事地说。
“我出卖了你，”他说。
她又很快地憎恶的看了他一眼。
“有时候，”她说，“他们用什么东西来威胁你，这东西你无法忍受，而且想都不能想。于是你就说，‘别这样对我，对别人去，对某某人去。’后来你也许可以伪装这不过是一种计策，这么说是为了使他们停下来，真的意思并不是这样。但是这不对。当时你说的真是这个意思。你认为没有别的办法可以救你，因此你很愿意用这个办法来救自已。你真的愿意这事发生在另外一个人身上。他受得了受不了，你根本不在乎。你关心的只是你自己。”
“你关心的只是你自己，”他随声附和说。
“在这以后，你对另外那个人的感情就不一样了。”
“不一样了，”他说，“你就感到不一样了。”
似乎没有别的可以说了。风把他们的单薄的工作服刮得紧紧地裹在他们身上．一言不发地坐在那里马上使你觉得很难堪，而且坐着不动也太冷，他说要赶地下铁道，就战了起来要走。
“我们以后见吧，”他说。
“是的，”她说，“我们以后见吧。”
他犹豫地跟了短短的一段距离，落在她身后半步路。他们俩没有再说话。她并没有想甩掉他，但是走得很快，使他无法跟上。他决定送她到地下铁道车站门口，但是突然觉得这样在寒风中跟着没有意思，也吃不消。他这时就一心想不如离开她，回到栗树咖啡馆去，这个地方从来没有象现在这样吸引他过，他怀念地想着他在角落上的那张桌子，还有那报纸、棋盘、不断斟满的杜松子酒。尤其是，那里一定很暖和。于是，也并不是完全出于偶然，他让一小群人走在他与她的中间。他不是很有决心地想追上去，但又放慢了脚步，转过身来往回走了。他走了五十公尺远回过头来看。街上并不拥挤，但已看不清她了。十多个匆匆忙忙赶路的人中，有一个可能是她。也许从背后已无法认出她的发胖僵硬的身子了。
“在当时，”她刚才说，“你说的真是这个意思。”他说的真是这个意思。他不仅说了，而且还打从心眼里希望如此。
他希望把她，而不是把他，送上前去喂——
电幕上的音乐声有了变化。音乐声中有了一种破裂的嘲笑的调子，黄色的调子。接着——也许这不是真正发生的事实，而是一种有些象声音的记忆——有人唱道：
“在遮荫的栗树下；我出卖了你，你出卖了我——”他不觉热泪盈眶。一个服务员走过，看到他杯中已空，就去拿了杜松子酒瓶来。
他端起了酒杯，闻了一下。这玩意儿一口比一口难喝。但是这已成了他所沉溺的因素。这是他的生命，他的死亡，他的复活。他靠杜松子酒每晚沉醉如死，他靠杜松子酒每晨清醒过来。—他很少在十一点以前醒来，醒来的时候眼皮都张不开，口渴如焚，背痛欲折，如果不是由于前天晚上在床边放着的那瓶酒和茶杯，他是无法从横陈的位置上起床的。在中午的几个小时里，他就面无表情地呆坐着，旁边放着一瓶酒，听着电幕。从十五点到打烊，他是栗树咖啡馆的常客。没有人再管他在干什么，任何警笛都惊动不了他，电幕也不再训斥他。有时，大概一星期两次，他到真理部一间灰尘厚积、为人遗忘的办公室里，做一些工作，或类似工作的事情。他被任命参加了一个小组委员会下的一个小组委员会，上面那个小组委员会所属的委员会是那些负责处理编纂第十一版新话词典时所发生的次要问题的无数委员会之一。
他们要写一份叫做临时报告的东西，但是写报告的究意是什么东西，他从来没有弄清楚过。大概同逗点应该放在括号内还是括号外的问题有关。小组委员会还有四名委员，都是同他相似的人物。他们经常是刚开了会就散了，个个都坦率地承认，实际上并没有什么事情要做。但也有时候他们认真地坐下来工作，象煞有介事地做记录、起草条陈，长得没完没了，从来没有结束过。那是因为对于他们要讨论的问题究竟是什么，引起了越来越复杂、深奥的争论，在定义上吹毛求疵，漫无边际地扯到题外去，争到后来甚至扬言要请示上级。但是突然之间，他们又泄了气，于是就围在桌子旁边坐着，两眼茫然地望着对方，很象雄鸡一唱天下白时就销声匿迹的鬼魂一样。
电幕安静了片刻。温斯顿又拍起头来。公报！哦，不是，他们不过是在换放别的音乐。他的眼帘前就有一幅非洲地图。军队的调动是一幅图表：一支黑色的箭头垂直向南，一支白色的箭头横着东进，割断了第一个箭头的尾巴。好象是为了取得支持，他抬头看一眼画像上的那张不动声色的脸。不可想象第二个箭头压根儿不存在。
他的兴趣又减退了。他又喝了一大口杜松子酒，拣起白色的相，走了一步。将！但是这一步显然不对，因为——
他的脑海里忽然飘起来一个记忆。他看到一间烛光照映的屋子，有一张用白床罩盖着的大床，他自已年约十来岁，坐在地板上，摇着一个骰子匣，在高兴地大笑。他的母亲坐在他对面，也在大笑。
这大概是在她失踪前一个月。当时两人情绪已经和解了，他忘记了难熬的肚饿，暂时恢复了幼时对她的爱恋。他还很清楚地记得那一天，大雨如注，雨水在玻璃窗上直泻而下，屋子里太黑，无法看书。两个孩子关在黑暗拥挤的屋子里感到极其无聊。温斯顿哼哼卿卿地吵闹着要吃的，在屋子里到处翻箱倒罐，把东西东扯西拉，在墙上拳打足踢，闹得隔壁邻居敲墙头抗议，而小的那个却不断地号哭。最后，他的母亲说。“乖乖地别闹，我给你去买个玩具。非常可爱的玩具——你会喜欢的。说完她就冒雨出门，到附近一家有时仍旧开着的小百货铺里，买回来一只装着骰子玩进退游戏的硬纸匣。他仍旧能够记得那是潮的硬纸板的气味。这玩意儿很可怜。硬纸板都破了，用木头做的小骰子表面粗糙，躺也躺不平。温斯顿不高兴地看一眼，毫无兴趣。但是这时他母亲点了一根蜡烛，他们就坐在地板上玩起来。当他们各自的棋子进了几步，快有希望达到终点时，又倒退下来，几乎回到起点时，他马上就兴奋起来，大声笑着叫喊。他们玩了八次，各赢四次。他的小妹妹还太小，不懂他们在玩什么，一个人靠着床腿坐在那里，看到他们大笑也跟着大笑。整整一个下午，他们在一起都很快活，就象在他幼年时代一样。
他把这副景象从脑海里排除出去。这个记忆是假的。他有时常常会有这种假记忆。只要你知道它们是假的，就没有关系。有的事情确实发生过，有的没有。他又回到棋盘上，拣起白色的相。他刚拣起，那棋子就啪的掉在棋盘上了。他惊了一下，好象身上给刺了一下。
一阵刺耳的喇叭声响了起来。这次是发表公报了！胜利！在发表消息的前晚喇叭总是有胜利的消息。咖啡馆里一阵兴奋，好象通过一阵电流一般。甚至服务员也惊了一下，竖起了耳朵。
喇叭声引起了一阵大喧哗。电幕已经开始播放，广播员的声音极其兴奋，但是刚一开始，就几乎被外面的欢呼声所淹没了。这消息在街上象魔术一般传了开来。他从电幕上所能听到的只是，一切都按他所预料的那样发生了：一支海上大军秘密集合起来，突然插入敌军后方，白色的箭头切断了黑色箭头的尾巴。人声喧哗之中可以断断续续地听到一些得意扬扬的话：“伟大战略部署——配合巧妙——彻底溃退——
俘虏五十万——完全丧失斗志——控制了整个非洲——战争结束指日可待——大获全胜——人类历史上最大的胜利——
胜利，胜利，胜利！”
温斯顿在桌子底下的两只脚拼命乱蹬．他仍坐在那里没有动，但是在他的脑海里，他在跑，在飞快地跑着，同外面的群众一起，大声呼叫，欣喜若狂。他又抬头看一眼老大哥。哦，这个雄踞全世界的巨人！这个使亚洲的乌合之众碰得头破血流的巨石！他想起在十分钟之前——是的，不过十分钟——他在思量前线的消息、究竟是胜是负时，他心中还有疑惑。可是现在，覆亡的不仅仅是一支欧亚国军队而已。自从他进了友爱部那天以来，他已经有了不少变化，但是到现在才发生了最后的、不可缺少的、脱胎换骨的变化。
电幕上的声音仍在没完没了地报告俘虏、战利品、杀戮的故事，但是外面的欢呼声已经减退了一些。服务员们又回去工作了。温斯顿飘飘然坐在那里，也没有注意到酒杯里又斟满了酒。他现在不在跑，也不在叫了。他又回到了友爱部，一切都已原谅，他的灵魂洁白如雪。他站在被告席上，什么都招认，什么人都咬。他走在白色瓷砖的走廊里，觉得象走在阳光中一样，后面跟着一个武装的警卫。等待已久的子弹穿进了他的脑袋。
他抬头看着那张庞大的脸。他花了四十年的功夫才知道那黑色的大胡子后面的笑容是什么样的笑容。哦，残酷的、没有必要的误会！哦，背离慈爱胸怀的顽固不化的流亡者！
他鼻梁两侧流下了带着酒气的泪。但是没有事，一切都很好，斗争已经结束了。他战胜了自己。他热爱老大哥。
收听单词发音 |
1
chestnut
|
|
| n.栗树，栗子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
slanting
|
|
| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
trickled
|
|
| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
caption
|
|
| n.说明，字幕，标题；v.加上标题，加上说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
quill
|
|
| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
cork
|
|
| n.软木，软木塞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
saccharine
|
|
| adj.奉承的，讨好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
cloves
|
|
| n.丁香（热带树木的干花，形似小钉子，用作调味品，尤用作甜食的香料）( clove的名词复数 )；蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
ministry
|
|
| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
disquieting
|
|
| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
Flared
|
|
| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
gulp
|
|
| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
visualized
|
|
| 直观的，直视的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
belched
|
|
| v.打嗝( belch的过去式和过去分词 )；喷出，吐出；打（嗝）；嗳（气） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
regained
|
|
| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
sinecure
|
|
| n.闲差事，挂名职务 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
din
|
|
| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
quota
|
|
| n.（生产、进出口等的）配额，（移民的）限额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
tricky
|
|
| adj.狡猾的，奸诈的；(工作等)棘手的，微妙的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
knights
|
|
| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
symbolize
|
|
| vt.作为...的象征，用符号代表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
spurts
|
|
| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
swarming
|
|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
vividly
|
|
| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
horde
|
|
| n.群众，一大群 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
airfields
|
|
| n.（较小的无建筑的）飞机场( airfield的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
cape
|
|
| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
breakdown
|
|
| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
medley
|
|
| n.混合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
spasm
|
|
| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
cauterized
|
|
| v.（用腐蚀性物质或烙铁）烧灼以消毒( cauterize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
obliquely
|
|
| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
vilely
|
|
| adv.讨厌地，卑劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
46
twigs
|
|
| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
twig
|
|
| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
fretted
|
|
| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
stiffened
|
|
| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
rigidity
|
|
| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
overalls
|
|
| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
irresolutely
|
|
| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
jeering
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
semblance
|
|
| n.外貌，外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sniffed
|
|
| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
stupor
|
|
| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
glazed
|
|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
fixture
|
|
| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
admonished
|
|
| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
sprouted
|
|
| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
rout
|
|
| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
compilation
|
|
| n.编译，编辑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
interim
|
|
| adj.暂时的，临时的；n.间歇，过渡期间 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
memoranda
|
|
| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
abstruse
|
|
| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
haggling
|
|
| v.讨价还价( haggle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
vertically
|
|
| adv.垂直地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
reassurance
|
|
| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
imperturbable
|
|
| adj.镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
dice
|
|
| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
reconciliation
|
|
| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
nagging
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
belly
|
|
| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
pelting
|
|
| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
drenching
|
|
| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
boredom
|
|
| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
cramped
|
|
| a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
whined
|
|
| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
futile
|
|
| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
wailed
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
intermittently
|
|
| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
sporadically
|
|
| adv.偶发地，零星地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
outfit
|
|
| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
propped
|
|
| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
bolster
|
|
| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
clatter
|
|
| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
pricked
|
|
| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
manoeuvre
|
|
| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
hordes
|
|
| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
equivocation
|
|
| n.模棱两可的话，含糊话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
slaughter
|
|
| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
implicating
|
|
| vt.牵涉，涉及（implicate的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |