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1984 by George Orwell, Part two, Chapter 9 (1)

Part two, Chapter 9 (1)

Winston was gelatinous with fatigue. Gelatinous was the right word. It had come into his head spontaneously.

His body seemed to have not only the weakness of a jelly, but its translucency. He felt that if he held up his hand he would be able to see the light through it. All the blood and lymph had been drained out of him by an enormous debauch of work, leaving only a frail structure of nerves, bones, and skin. All sensations seemed to be magnified. His overalls fretted his shoulders, the pavement tickled his feet, even the opening and closing of a hand was an effort that made his joints creak.

He had worked more than ninety hours in five days. So had everyone else in the Ministry. Now it was all over, and he had literally nothing to do, no Party work of any description, until tomorrow morning. He could spend six hours in the hiding-place and another nine in his own bed. Slowly, in mild afternoon sunshine, he walked up a dingy street in the direction of Mr Charrington's shop, keeping one eye open for the patrols, but irrationally convinced that this afternoon there was no danger of anyone interfering with him. The heavy brief-case that he was carrying bumped against his knee at each step, sending a tingling sensation up and down the skin of his leg. Inside it was the book, which he had now had in his possession for six days and had not yet opened, nor even looked at.

On the sixth day of Hate Week, after the processions, the speeches, the shouting, the singing, the banners, the posters, the films, the waxworks, the rolling of drums and squealing of trumpets, the tramp of marching feet, the grinding of the caterpillars of tanks, the roar of massed planes, the booming of guns — after six days of this, when the great orgasm was quivering to its climax and the general hatred of Eurasia had boiled up into such delirium that if the crowd could have got their hands on the 2,ooo Eurasian war-criminals who were to be publicly hanged on the last day of the proceedings, they would unquestionably have torn them to pieces — at just this moment it had been announced that Oceania was not after all at war with Eurasia. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Eurasia was an ally.

There was, of course, no admission that any change had taken place. Merely it became known, with extreme suddenness and everywhere at once, that Eastasia and not Eurasia was the enemy. Winston was taking part in a demonstration in one of the central London squares at the moment when it happened. It was night, and the white faces and the scarlet banners were luridly floodlit. The square was packed with several thousand people, including a block of about a thousand schoolchildren in the uniform of the Spies. On a scarlet-draped platform an orator of the Inner Party, a small lean man with disproportionately long arms and a large bald skull over which a few lank locks straggled, was haranguing the crowd. A little Rumpelstiltskin figure, contorted with hatred, he gripped the neck of the microphone with one hand while the other, enormous at the end of a bony arm, clawed the air menacingly above his head. His voice, made metallic by the amplifiers, boomed forth an endless catalogue of atrocities, massacres, deportations, lootings, rapings, torture of prisoners, bombing of civilians, lying propaganda, unjust aggressions, broken treaties. It was almost impossible to listen to him without being first convinced and then maddened. At every few moments the fury of the crowd boiled over and the voice of the speaker was drowned by a wild beast-like roaring that rose uncontrollably from thousands of throats. The most savage yells of all came from the schoolchildren. The speech had been proceeding for perhaps twenty minutes when a messenger hurried on to the platform and a scrap of paper was slipped into the speaker's hand. He unrolled and read it without pausing in his speech. Nothing altered in his voice or manner, or in the content of what he was saying, but suddenly the names were different. Without words said, a wave of understanding rippled through the crowd. Oceania was at war with Eastasia! The next moment there was a tremendous commotion. The banners and posters with which the square was decorated were all wrong! Quite half of them had the wrong faces on them. It was sabotage! The agents of Goldstein had been at work! There was a riotous interlude while posters were ripped from the walls, banners torn to shreds and trampled underfoot. The Spies performed prodigies of activity in clambering over the rooftops and cutting the streamers that fluttered from the chimneys. But within two or three minutes it was all over. The orator, still gripping the neck of the microphone, his shoulders hunched forward, his free hand clawing at the air, had gone straight on with his speech. One minute more, and the feral roars of rage were again bursting from the crowd. The Hate continued exactly as before, except that the target had been changed.

The thing that impressed Winston in looking back was that the speaker had switched from one line to the other actually in midsentence, not only without a pause, but without even breaking the syntax. But at the moment he had other things to preoccupy him. It was during the moment of disorder while the posters were being torn down that a man whose face he did not see had tapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Excuse me, I think you've dropped your brief-case.' He took the brief-case abstractedly, without speaking. He knew that it would be days before he had an opportunity to look inside it. The instant that the demonstration was over he went straight to the Ministry of Truth, though the time was now nearly twenty-three hours. The entire staff of the Ministry had done likewise. The orders already issuing from the telescreen, recalling them to their posts, were hardly necessary.

Oceania was at war with Eastasia: Oceania had always been at war with Eastasia. A large part of the political literature of five years was now completely obsolete. Reports and records of all kinds, newspapers, books, pamphlets, films, sound-tracks, photographs — all had to be rectified at lightning speed. Although no directive was ever issued, it was known that the chiefs of the Department intended that within one week no reference to the war with Eurasia, or the alliance with Eastasia, should remain in existence anywhere. The work was overwhelming, all the more so because the processes that it involved could not be called by their true names. Everyone in the Records Department worked eighteen hours in the twenty-four, with two three-hour snatches of sleep. Mattresses were brought up from the cellars and pitched all over the corridors: meals consisted of sandwiches and Victory Coffee wheeled round on trolleys by attendants from the canteen. Each time that Winston broke off for one of his spells of sleep he tried to leave his desk clear of work, and each time that he crawled back sticky-eyed and aching, it was to find that another shower of paper cylinders had covered the desk like a snowdrift, half-burying the speakwrite and overflowing on to the floor, so that the first job was always to stack them into a neat enough pile to give him room to work. What was worst of all was that the work was by no means purely mechanical. Often it was enough merely to substitute one name for another, but any detailed report of events demanded care and imagination. Even the geographical knowledge that one needed in transferring the war from one part of the world to another was considerable.

By the third day his eyes ached unbearably and his spectacles needed wiping every few minutes. It was like struggling with some crushing physical task, something which one had the right to refuse and which one was nevertheless neurotically anxious to accomplish. In so far as he had time to remember it, he was not troubled by the fact that every word he murmured into the speakwrite, every stroke of his ink-pencil, was a deliberate lie. He was as anxious as anyone else in the Department that the forgery should be perfect. On the morning of the sixth day the dribble of cylinders slowed down. For as much as half an hour nothing came out of the tube; then one more cylinder, then nothing. Everywhere at about the same time the work was easing off. A deep and as it were secret sigh went through the Department. A mighty deed, which could never be mentioned, had been achieved. It was now impossible for any human being to prove by documentary evidence that the war with Eurasia had ever happened. At twelve hundred it was unexpectedly announced that all workers in the Ministry were free till tomorrow morning. Winston, still carrying the brief-case containing the book, which had remained between his feet while he worked and under his body while he slept, went home, shaved himself, and almost fell asleep in his bath, although the water was barely more than tepid.

With a sort of voluptuous creaking in his joints he climbed the stair above Mr Charrington's shop. He was tired, but not sleepy any longer. He opened the window, lit the dirty little oilstove and put on a pan of water for coffee. Julia would arrive presently: meanwhile there was the book. He sat down in the sluttish armchair and undid the straps of the brief-case.

A heavy black volume, amateurishly bound, with no name or title on the cover. The print also looked slightly irregular. The pages were worn at the edges, and fell apart, easily, as though the book had passed through many hands. The inscription on the title- page ran:

THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF OLIGARCHICAL COLLECTIVISM

BY

EMMANUEL GOLDSTEIN

Winston began reading:

Chapter I

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

Throughout recorded time, and probably since the end of the Neolithic Age, there have been three kinds of people in the world, the High, the Middle, and the Low. They have been subdivided in many ways, they have borne countless different names, and their relative numbers, as well as their attitude towards one another, have varied from age to age: but the essential structure of society has never altered. Even after enormous upheavals and seemingly irrevocable changes, the same pattern has always reasserted itself, just as a gyroscope will always return to equilibrium, however far it is pushed one way or the other.

The aims of these groups are entirely irreconcilable . . . Winston stopped reading, chiefly in order to appreciate the fact that he was reading, in comfort and safety. He was alone: no telescreen, no ear at the keyhole, no nervous impulse to glance over his shoulder or cover the page with his hand. The sweet summer air played against his cheek. From somewhere far away there floated the faint shouts of children: in the room itself there was no sound except the insect voice of the clock. He settled deeper into the arm-chair and put his feet up on the fender. It was bliss, it was eternity. Suddenly, as one sometimes does with a book of which one knows that one will ultimately read and re-read every word, he opened it at a different place and found himself at Chapter III. He went on reading:

Chapter III

WAR IS PEACE

The splitting up of the world into three great super-states was an event which could be and indeed was foreseen before the middle of the twentieth century.

Part two, Chapter 9 (1)

Winston was gelatinous with fatigue. Gelatinous was the right word. Gelatinoso era la palabra correcta. It had come into his head spontaneously.

His body seemed to have not only the weakness of a jelly, but its translucency. Su cuerpo parecía tener no solo la debilidad de una gelatina, sino también su translucidez. He felt that if he held up his hand he would be able to see the light through it. Він відчував, що якщо підняти руку, то зможе побачити крізь неї світло. All the blood and lymph had been drained out of him by an enormous debauch of work, leaving only a frail structure of nerves, bones, and skin. Toda la sangre y la linfa le habían sido extraídas por un enorme desenfreno de trabajo, dejando sólo una frágil estructura de nervios, huesos y piel. All sensations seemed to be magnified. Здавалося, що всі відчуття посилилися. His overalls fretted his shoulders, the pavement tickled his feet, even the opening and closing of a hand was an effort that made his joints creak. Комбінезон драшив йому плечі, бруківка лоскотала ноги, навіть розтискання й розтискання руки було зусиллям, від якого скрипіли суглоби.

He had worked more than ninety hours in five days. So had everyone else in the Ministry. Now it was all over, and he had literally nothing to do, no Party work of any description, until tomorrow morning. Ahora todo había terminado, y literalmente no tenía nada que hacer, ningún trabajo del Partido de ninguna descripción, hasta mañana por la mañana. He could spend six hours in the hiding-place and another nine in his own bed. Slowly, in mild afternoon sunshine, he walked up a dingy street in the direction of Mr Charrington's shop, keeping one eye open for the patrols, but irrationally convinced that this afternoon there was no danger of anyone interfering with him. Lentamente, bajo el suave sol de la tarde, caminó por una calle lúgubre en dirección a la tienda del señor Charrington, sin perder de vista las patrullas, pero irracionalmente convencido de que esa tarde no había peligro de que nadie interfiriera con él. The heavy brief-case that he was carrying bumped against his knee at each step, sending a tingling sensation up and down the skin of his leg. Inside it was the book, which he had now had in his possession for six days and had not yet opened, nor even looked at.

On the sixth day of Hate Week, after the processions, the speeches, the shouting, the singing, the banners, the posters, the films, the  waxworks, the  rolling  of  drums  and squealing  of trumpets,  the  tramp  of  marching  feet,  the  grinding  of  the caterpillars of tanks, the roar of massed planes, the booming of guns — after six days of this, when the great orgasm was quivering to its climax and the general hatred of Eurasia had boiled up into such delirium that if the crowd could have got their hands on the 2,ooo Eurasian war-criminals who were to be publicly hanged on the last day of the proceedings, they would unquestionably have torn them to pieces — at just this moment it had been announced that Oceania was not after all at war with Eurasia. El sexto día de la Semana del Odio, después de las procesiones, los discursos, los gritos, los cánticos, las pancartas, los carteles, las películas, las esculturas de cera, el redoble de los tambores y el chirriar de las trompetas, el paso de los pies, el rechinar de las orugas de los tanques, el rugido de los aviones masivos, el retumbar de los cañones, después de seis días de esto, cuando el gran orgasmo estaba llegando a su clímax y el odio general hacia Eurasia se había convertido en un delirio tal que si la multitud hubiera podido pusieron sus manos sobre los 2.000 criminales de guerra euroasiáticos que iban a ser ahorcados públicamente el último día de los procedimientos, sin duda los habrían hecho pedazos; en ese mismo momento se había anunciado que Oceanía no estaba, después de todo, en guerra con Eurasia. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Eurasia was an ally. Eurasia era un aliado.

There was, of course, no admission that any change had taken place. Por supuesto, no se admitió que se hubiera producido ningún cambio. Merely it became known, with extreme suddenness and everywhere at once, that Eastasia and not Eurasia was the enemy. Simplemente se supo, con extrema rapidez y en todas partes a la vez, que el enemigo era Eurasia y no Eurasia. Winston was taking part in a demonstration in one of the central London squares at the moment when it happened. It was night, and the white faces and the scarlet banners were luridly floodlit. Era de noche y los rostros blancos y los estandartes escarlata estaban brillantemente iluminados. The square was packed with several thousand people, including a block of about a thousand schoolchildren in the uniform of the Spies. On a scarlet-draped platform an orator of the Inner Party, a small lean man with disproportionately long arms and a large bald skull over which a few lank locks straggled, was haranguing the crowd. En una plataforma cubierta de tela escarlata, un orador del Partido Interior, un hombre pequeño y delgado con brazos desproporcionadamente largos y una gran calavera calva sobre la que se arrastraban algunos mechones lacios, arengaba a la multitud. A little Rumpelstiltskin figure, contorted with hatred, he gripped the neck of the microphone with one hand while the other, enormous at the end of a bony arm, clawed the air menacingly above his head. Una pequeña figura de Rumpelstiltskin, contorsionada por el odio, agarró el cuello del micrófono con una mano mientras la otra, enorme al final de un brazo huesudo, arañó el aire amenazadoramente por encima de su cabeza. His voice, made metallic by the amplifiers, boomed forth an endless catalogue of atrocities, massacres, deportations, lootings, rapings, torture of prisoners, bombing of civilians, lying propaganda, unjust aggressions, broken treaties. It was almost impossible to listen to him without being first convinced and then maddened. At every few moments the fury of the crowd boiled over and the voice of the speaker was drowned by a wild beast-like roaring that rose uncontrollably from thousands of throats. The most savage yells of all came from the schoolchildren. The speech had been proceeding for perhaps twenty minutes when a messenger hurried on to the platform and a scrap of paper was slipped into the speaker's hand. He unrolled and read it without pausing in his speech. Nothing altered in his voice or manner, or in the content of what he was saying, but suddenly the names were different. Without words said, a wave of understanding rippled through the crowd. Sin decir palabras, una ola de comprensión se extendió por la multitud. Oceania was at war with Eastasia! The next moment there was a tremendous commotion. The banners and posters with which the square was decorated were all wrong! Quite half of them had the wrong faces on them. Casi la mitad de ellos tenían las caras equivocadas. It was sabotage! ¡Fue un sabotaje! The agents of Goldstein had been at work! ¡Los agentes de Goldstein habían estado trabajando! There was a riotous interlude while posters were ripped from the walls, banners torn to shreds and trampled underfoot. The Spies performed prodigies of activity in clambering over the rooftops and cutting the streamers that fluttered from the chimneys. Los espías realizaron prodigios de actividad trepando por los tejados y cortando las serpentinas que ondeaban en las chimeneas. But within two or three minutes it was all over. Pero en dos o tres minutos todo había terminado. The orator, still gripping the neck of the microphone, his shoulders hunched forward, his free hand clawing at the air, had gone straight on with his speech. El orador, todavía agarrado por el cuello del micrófono, con los hombros encorvados hacia adelante, su mano libre arañando el aire, había seguido adelante con su discurso. One minute more, and the feral roars of rage were again bursting from the crowd. Un minuto más, y los salvajes rugidos de rabia volvieron a estallar entre la multitud. The Hate continued exactly as before, except that the target had been changed.

The thing that impressed Winston in looking back was that the speaker had switched from one line to the other actually in midsentence, not only without a pause, but without even breaking the syntax. Lo que impresionó a Winston al mirar hacia atrás fue que el hablante había cambiado de una línea a la otra en realidad en medio de la oración, no solo sin una pausa, sino sin siquiera romper la sintaxis. But at the moment he had other things to preoccupy him. It was during the moment of disorder while the posters were being torn down that a man whose face he did not see had tapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Excuse me, I think you've dropped your brief-case.' Fue durante el momento de desorden, mientras se derribaban los carteles, cuando un hombre cuyo rostro no veía le dio un golpecito en el hombro y le dijo: "Disculpe, creo que se le cayó el maletín". He took the brief-case abstractedly, without speaking. He knew that it would be days before he had an opportunity to look inside it. The instant that the demonstration was over he went straight to the Ministry of Truth, though the time was now nearly twenty-three hours. En el instante en que terminó la demostración, fue directamente al Ministerio de la Verdad, aunque ahora eran casi veintitrés horas. The entire staff of the Ministry had done likewise. Todo el personal del Ministerio había hecho lo mismo. The orders already issuing from the telescreen, recalling them to their posts, were hardly necessary. Las órdenes que ya se emitían desde la telepantalla, para que volvieran a sus puestos, apenas eran necesarias.

Oceania was at war with Eastasia: Oceania had always been at war with Eastasia. A large part of the political literature of five years was now completely obsolete. Reports and records of all kinds, newspapers, books, pamphlets, films, sound-tracks, photographs — all had to be rectified at lightning speed. Informes y registros de todo tipo, periódicos, libros, folletos, películas, bandas sonoras, fotografías, todo tuvo que ser rectificado a la velocidad del rayo. Although no directive was ever issued, it was known that the chiefs of the Department intended that within one week no reference to the war with Eurasia, or the alliance with Eastasia, should remain in existence anywhere. Aunque nunca se emitió ninguna directiva, se sabía que los jefes del Departamento tenían la intención de que dentro de una semana no existiera ninguna referencia a la guerra con Eurasia, o la alianza con Eastasia, en ninguna parte. The work was overwhelming, all the more so because the processes that it involved could not be called by their true names. El trabajo fue abrumador, tanto más porque los procesos que involucraba no podían ser llamados por sus verdaderos nombres. Everyone in the Records Department worked eighteen hours in the twenty-four, with two three-hour snatches of sleep. Todos en el Departamento de Registros trabajaron dieciocho horas en veinticuatro, con dos períodos de sueño de tres horas. Mattresses were brought up from the cellars and pitched all over the corridors: meals consisted of sandwiches and Victory Coffee wheeled round on trolleys by attendants from the canteen. Los colchones se sacaban de los sótanos y se colocaban por todos los pasillos: las comidas consistían en bocadillos y Victory Coffee que los asistentes de la cantina llevaban en carritos. Each time that Winston broke off for one of his spells of sleep he tried to leave his desk clear of work, and each time that he crawled back sticky-eyed and aching, it was to find that another shower of paper cylinders had covered the desk like a snowdrift, half-burying the speakwrite and overflowing on to the floor, so that the first job was always to stack them into a neat enough pile to give him room to work. Кожного разу, коли Вінстон переривався на одну зі своїх заклинань сну, він намагався залишити свій стіл вільним від роботи, і щоразу, коли він відповзав назад із липкими очима й болем, це було виявити, що чергова дошка паперових циліндрів вкрила стіл. як сніговий замет, наполовину закопуючи спікер і розливаючись на підлогу, тож першою роботою завжди було складати їх у досить акуратну купу, щоб дати йому місце для роботи. What was worst of all was that the work was by no means purely mechanical. Найгіршим було те, що робота аж ніяк не була суто механічною. Often it was enough merely to substitute one name for another, but any detailed report of events demanded care and imagination. A menudo bastaba con sustituir un nombre por otro, pero cualquier informe detallado de los acontecimientos exigía cuidado e imaginación. Часто достатньо було просто замінити одне ім'я іншим, але будь-який детальний звіт про події вимагав уважності та фантазії. Even the geographical knowledge that one needed in transferring the war from one part of the world to another was considerable.

By the third day his eyes ached unbearably and his spectacles needed wiping every few minutes. It was like struggling with some crushing physical task, something which one had the right to refuse and which one was nevertheless neurotically anxious to accomplish. Це було схоже на боротьбу з якимось важким фізичним завданням, чимось, від чого ти мав право відмовитися і яке, незважаючи на це, невротично прагнув виконати. In so far as he had time to remember it, he was not troubled by the fact that every word he murmured into the speakwrite, every stroke of his ink-pencil, was a deliberate lie. He was as anxious as anyone else in the Department that the forgery should be perfect. On the morning of the sixth day the dribble of cylinders slowed down. For as much as half an hour nothing came out of the tube; then one more cylinder, then nothing. Durante media hora no salió nada del tubo; luego un cilindro más, luego nada. Everywhere at about the same time the work was easing off. Скрізь приблизно в один і той же час робота затихла. A deep and as it were secret sigh went through the Department. A mighty deed, which could never be mentioned, had been achieved. Se había logrado una gran hazaña, que nunca podría mencionarse. Було здійснено могутню справу, про яку ніколи не можна було згадувати. It was now impossible for any human being to prove by documentary evidence that the war with Eurasia had ever happened. At twelve hundred it was unexpectedly announced that all workers in the Ministry were free till tomorrow morning. A las 12 horas se anunció inesperadamente que todos los trabajadores del Ministerio estaban libres hasta mañana por la mañana. Winston, still carrying the brief-case containing the book, which had remained between his feet while he worked and under his body while he slept, went home, shaved himself, and almost fell asleep in his bath, although the water was barely more than tepid.

With a sort of voluptuous creaking in his joints he climbed the stair above Mr Charrington's shop. He was tired, but not sleepy any longer. Estaba cansado, pero ya no tenía sueño. He opened the window, lit the dirty little oilstove and put on a pan of water for coffee. Julia would arrive presently: meanwhile there was the book. Julia llegaría pronto: mientras tanto estaba el libro. Хулія приїде зараз: книга тим часом була. He sat down in the sluttish armchair and undid the straps of the brief-case. Se sentó en el sillón de puta y desabrochó las correas del maletín.

A heavy black volume, amateurishly bound, with no name or title on the cover. The print also looked slightly irregular. Принт також виглядав дещо неправильним. The pages were worn at the edges, and fell apart, easily, as though the book had passed through many hands. The inscription on the title- page ran: La inscripción en la portada decía:

THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF OLIGARCHICAL COLLECTIVISM LA TEORÍA Y LA PRÁCTICA DEL COLECTIVISMO OLIGÁRQUICO

BY

EMMANUEL GOLDSTEIN

Winston began reading:

Chapter I

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

Throughout recorded time, and probably since the end of the Neolithic Age, there have been three kinds of people in the world, the High, the Middle, and the Low. A lo largo del tiempo registrado, y probablemente desde el final del Neolítico, ha habido tres tipos de personas en el mundo: las altas, las medias y las bajas. They have been subdivided in many ways, they have borne countless different names, and their relative numbers, as well as their attitude towards one another, have varied from age to age: but the essential structure of society has never altered. Even after enormous upheavals and seemingly irrevocable changes, the same pattern has always reasserted itself, just as a gyroscope will always return to equilibrium, however far it is pushed one way or the other. Incluso después de enormes trastornos y cambios aparentemente irrevocables, el mismo patrón siempre se ha reafirmado, al igual que un giroscopio siempre volverá al equilibrio, por muy lejos que sea empujado hacia un lado u otro.

The aims of these groups are entirely irreconcilable . Los objetivos de estos grupos son totalmente irreconciliables. . . Winston stopped reading, chiefly in order to appreciate the fact that he was reading, in comfort and safety. He was alone: no telescreen, no ear at the keyhole, no nervous impulse to glance over his shoulder or cover the page with his hand. The sweet summer air played against his cheek. From somewhere far away there floated the faint shouts of children: in the room itself there was no sound except the insect voice of the clock. Desde algún lugar lejano flotaban los débiles gritos de los niños: en la misma habitación no se oía ningún sonido excepto la voz de insecto del reloj. He settled deeper into the arm-chair and put his feet up on the fender. It was bliss, it was eternity. Suddenly, as one sometimes does with a book of which one knows that one will ultimately read and re-read every word, he opened it at a different place and found himself at Chapter III. De repente, como a veces se hace con un libro del que se sabe que finalmente se leerá y releerá cada palabra, lo abrió en un lugar diferente y se encontró en el Capítulo III. He went on reading:

Chapter III

WAR IS PEACE

The splitting up of the world into three great super-states was an event which could be and indeed was foreseen before the middle of the twentieth century. La división del mundo en tres grandes superestados fue un evento que podría ser y de hecho fue previsto antes de mediados del siglo XX.