Print at 100% scale on letter paper, with no added margins.
1984
Mountaineers · 10th–12th
Winston says yes to murder for the Brotherhood but no to leaving Julia. Which answer shows more truly what he is fighting for?
The tension Winston answers “Yes” to murder, to sabotage that may kill “hundreds of innocent people,” even to throwing sulphuric acid; but asked whether they will part and never see one another again, Julia breaks in with “No!” and Winston, after a long silent struggle, says “No” too.
What Winston and Julia promise O'Brien, what they refuse, and what kind of movement they believe they are joining.
The chapter is one scene in O’Brien’s flat. Winston and Julia, who came by different routes and met on the doorstep, are shown by a white-jacketed servant into a long, softly lit room with a dark-blue carpet. Everything about the Inner Party block frightens Winston: the space, the smells of good food and tobacco, the clean walls. O’Brien, at a table under a green-shaded lamp, dictates a message in the jargon of the Ministries before he comes to them, and for a moment Winston fears he has made a stupid mistake, since his evidence is only a look, one remark and his own imaginings. Then O’Brien switches off the telescreen, a privilege of the Inner Party. Winston declares that they believe in a secret organisation against the Party, want to join it, and are thought-criminals and adulterers. The servant, Martin, is “one of us”, and sits with them. O’Brien pours wine, which Winston has only read about, and toasts Emmanuel Goldstein; after years of gin Winston can barely taste it. O’Brien says that Goldstein is alive and the Brotherhood is real, but that they will never learn much more about it. In a low, routine voice, almost ignoring Julia, he puts his questions to Winston. Winston says yes to giving their lives, to murder, to sabotage that may kill hundreds of innocent people, to betraying his country, to corrupting the young and spreading drugs and disease, to throwing acid in a youngster’s face, to living under a new identity and to suicide on order. Asked whether the two of them will separate and never see each other again, Julia cries “No!”, and Winston, after a long silent struggle, says no too. O’Brien says he did well to tell him, and warns Julia that Winston may come back with a different face and voice; she goes pale and seems to agree. Martin is sent back to his pantry after a long look at their faces. O’Brien, pacing, tells them they will fight in the dark, obey orders without knowing why, know only a few contacts, and, when caught, confess. Winston feels admiration, almost worship, for O’Brien’s confidence and ironic lightness. O’Brien describes a Brotherhood held together only by an idea: no lists, no comradeship, no help, no results in their lifetime. For now, all that is possible is to extend the area of sanity little by little. Offered a second toast, Winston chooses “To the past”. Julia leaves first, with a tablet so as not to smell of wine. O’Brien arranges, step by step, how a copy of Goldstein’s book will reach Winston in a brief-case handed to him in the street. Asked if he has any last question, Winston asks about the old rhyme of the London bells, and O’Brien completes the stanza. At the door Winston looks back: O’Brien is waiting with his hand on the telescreen switch, and Winston thinks that within thirty seconds he will be back at his “important work on behalf of the Party.”
Before reading, remind the student of four things from earlier in the novel: Winston’s old dream of a voice in a dark room saying they would meet in “the place where there is no darkness”, a voice he came to think was O’Brien’s; O’Brien’s invitation to call at his flat for a copy of the Newspeak dictionary; the room over Mr Charrington’s shop, with its glass paperweight and steel engraving; and the rhyme of the London bells, which Winston has never been able to finish after “the bells of Old Bailey”. Then read the chapter in four stretches: the arrival, to “We are alone.”; Winston’s declaration, Martin, the wine and the questions, to “Then that is settled.”; Martin’s leaving and O’Brien’s account of the Brotherhood, to “there is no other way.”; and the second toast, the arrangements and the rhyme, to the end. In each stretch, mark one thing that surprises Winston and one thing he agrees to or refuses. Leave open what the chapter leaves open: whether O’Brien is what he says, what Goldstein’s book contains, and whether any promise made here will be tested.
Retell The student retells the chapter in order: the arrival at the Inner Party flat, O’Brien’s message and Winston’s doubt, the telescreen switched off, Winston’s declaration, Martin sitting down, the wine and the toast to Goldstein, the questions and the yeses, Julia’s “No!” and Winston’s, O’Brien’s warning to Julia, Martin’s leaving, O’Brien’s account of fighting in the dark and of the Brotherhood, the toast to the past, Julia’s leaving, the arrangements for the book, the rhyme, and the last look back from the door. Look for the full list of what Winston agrees to, which a hurried retelling shrinks to “anything”, and for Julia’s “No!” coming before his.
Imitate the author After copying, the student writes two passages of their own about someone they are watching. The first is three sentences, each opening with a phrase or clause that holds back the main clause, as “More even than of strength” and “However much in earnest he might be” do; the last carries a list of heavy things and ends on a light word. The second is three sentences in plain style that answer it: two short ones set against each other, then one that gives an abstract hope a single concrete picture.
Debate Take sides on the last written question. One side argues that the “No” shows more truly what Winston is fighting for, and gathers “It appeared to Winston that a long time passed before he answered”, “deprived of the power of speech”, the routine of the questioning, and “We are also adulterers.” The other argues that the yeses do, and gathers “Anything that we are capable of”, the length of the list, and “Until he had said it, he did not know which word he was going to say.” Each side must answer the other’s best line, and both must deal with Julia’s “No!” coming first and with what the yeses would do to innocent people. Neither may claim that any promise is tested, or that O’Brien is lying.
Purpose Close on the chapter’s shape. It opens and closes on the same picture: O’Brien’s writing-table under the green-shaded lamp, with the speakwrite and the papers, and the telescreen murmuring at the start and about to be switched on at the end. Between the two, Winston’s terror turns to trust, then to something close to worship. Ask why Orwell frames the meeting this way, and what the last sentence, Winston’s own thought that O’Brien will soon be back at his “important work on behalf of the Party”, does to the warmth just before it. Keep the answer to what Winston sees here.
Easier Read the chapter aloud in its four stretches. As you go, list everything Winston says yes to, and mark the one thing he and Julia refuse. Talk through the first and third discussion questions, then answer the last written question aloud, using that list, before writing it.
On level Talk through all five discussion questions in order, then write both written questions as a thesis, the strongest objection and a revised thesis, each with lines from the chapter.
Harder Ask for one argued essay on the two copied passages: why would a man who speaks of murder “with a faint air of persiflage”, and who promises only “We are the dead”, win Winston’s trust? The essay should use “almost of worship” and his voice that “seemed to say” more than he said, and meet the objection that Winston hears in O’Brien what he needs to hear. It must not hint at what O’Brien may later prove to be.
1. O’Brien stops by the telescreen and presses a switch. There is a sharp snap. He says, “We have that privilege.” How much does that one act really prove about O’Brien?Inference
What it asks It asks the student to weigh the first proof Winston gets in the flat. Just before, Winston has asked himself “what evidence had he in reality that O’Brien was any kind of political conspirator? Nothing but a flash of the eyes and a single equivocal remark: beyond that, only his own secret imaginings, founded on a dream.” Then O’Brien “pressed a switch on the wall. There was a sharp snap. The voice had stopped.” Winston blurts out, “You can turn it off!” and O’Brien answers, “we can turn it off. We have that privilege.” Later he adds, “It is unwise even for members of the Inner Party to turn off the telescreen for more than half an hour.” The student says how much the act proves. The card must not say that O’Brien is lying or that the Brotherhood is a fiction; the chapter shows it through Winston’s eyes and gives no proof either way.
A great deal. A loyal Party man would not silence the screen and then wait to hear two visitors confess to thought-crime. The snap is a risk O’Brien takes in front of them, and it changes the room: Winston is no longer leaning on his own imaginings alone. It is the act that lets him speak at all.
Yes, everything is turned off. We are alone.
Then suddenly the grim face broke down into what might have been the beginnings of a smile.
Less than it feels like. The act proves O’Brien’s rank, not his side. The people who may switch off the screen are the Inner Party, whose flats Winston finds so frightening, and even their privilege has a limit of half an hour. For everything else, Winston still has only what O’Brien tells him.
It is unwise even for members of the Inner Party to turn off the telescreen for more than half an hour.
everything was intimidating
A strong answer A strong response weighs how much the switched-off telescreen proves and argues from the opening pages. One reader says a great deal: no loyal Party man would silence the screen and then wait to hear two visitors confess, and the snap is what lets Winston speak. Another says it proves rank more than side: the privilege belongs to the Inner Party, has a half-hour limit, and leaves Winston with O’Brien’s word for the rest. The best answers hear the double “we”, set the snap beside Winston’s thin list of evidence, and do not decide whether O’Brien is telling the truth.
2. O’Brien tells Martin he can stop being a servant for ten minutes. Martin sits down “quite at his ease, and yet still with a servant-like air”. Is there still a man under the part, or has the part become the man?Character
What it asks It asks the student to read the servant who is “one of us”. O’Brien says, “Bring a chair for yourself, Martin. This is business. You can stop being a servant for the next ten minutes.” Martin sits “quite at his ease, and yet still with a servant-like air, the air of a valet enjoying a privilege.” Winston thinks “that the man’s whole life was playing a part, and that he felt it to be dangerous to drop his assumed personality even for a moment.” When O’Brien later speaks of surgeons who alter faces, Winston glances at Martin and sees no scars, and as Martin leaves, “It occurred to Winston that a synthetic face was perhaps incapable of changing its expression.” In between, Winston has said yes to the chance to “live out the rest of your life as a waiter or a dock-worker”. The student says whether a man is left under the part. The card must not claim to know what has been done to Martin, or O’Brien’s motives beyond what he says.
A man is still there, holding very still. Winston’s own reading is that Martin finds it “dangerous” to drop the part, which means there is something to drop. Being a servant is his discipline, not his nature. He is at his ease, and he does what the work requires.
he felt it to be dangerous to drop his assumed personality even for a moment
The little man sat down, quite at his ease
The part has become the man. Even when told to stop, he cannot. His eyes go over their faces without warmth, he leaves without a word, and Winston wonders whether his face can change at all. If that is what living as someone else does to a person, Winston has just agreed to it.
It occurred to Winston that a synthetic face was perhaps incapable of changing its expression.
There was not a trace of friendliness in his manner.
A strong answer A strong response says whether a man is left under Martin’s part and argues from the moments he sits and leaves. One reader says yes: Winston thinks Martin finds it “dangerous” to drop his assumed personality, so there is something under it, held in place by discipline. Another says the part has taken over: told to stop, he cannot, he leaves without a word, and Winston wonders whether his face can change at all. The best answers hear “or appeared to feel none”, set Martin beside Winston’s promise to live as a waiter, and do not claim to know what has been done to Martin.
3. For most of the visit O’Brien has almost ignored Julia. She has just refused to part from Winston. Now O’Brien turns to her. Even if Winston lives, he says, he may have a different face, different hands, even a different voice. She goes pale, but she faces him and seems to agree. What is she agreeing to?Character
What it asks It asks the student to read Julia’s answer to O’Brien’s warning. For most of the scene “He almost ignored Julia, seeming to take it for granted that Winston could speak for her.” She is the one who breaks in, “No!”, when he asks whether they will separate. Right after, O’Brien turns to her “in a voice with somewhat more expression in it”: “Do you understand that even if he survives, it may be as a different person?” He goes on, “His face, his movements, the shape of his hands, the colour of his hair – even his voice would be different. And you yourself might have become a different person.” Then: “Julia had turned a shade paler, so that her freckles were showing, but she faced O’Brien boldly. She murmured something that seemed to be assent.” The student says what she is agreeing to, moments after refusing to part from him. The card must not reach ahead to whether any promise is put to the test.
To keep loving him in any shape. Her “No!” was never about his face. She refused to give up the person, and now she accepts that the person may come back looking like a stranger. That is the harder promise, and she makes it boldly, with her freckles showing.
but she faced O’Brien boldly
‘No!’ broke in Julia.
To the very thing her “No!” refused. She would not agree never to see him again. But if both of them may become different people, the two who meet again may not be the two who refused. The warning describes another way of parting, and she assents to it, perhaps because there is no third answer.
And you yourself might have become a different person.
Our surgeons can alter people beyond recognition.
A strong answer A strong response says what Julia is agreeing to and argues from O’Brien’s warning and her reply. One reader says she agrees to keep loving the person in any shape, a harder promise than her “No!”, and makes it boldly. Another says the warning describes another kind of parting, since both of them may become different people, and she assents to what her “No!” refused. The best answers hear how unsure Winston is of her words, notice that O’Brien turns to her only now, and do not reach ahead to whether the promise is tested.
4. When O’Brien speaks of murder and altered faces, his voice “seemed to say” that this is not what they will do “when life is worth living again.” He never says those words out loud. Whose words are they?Author's choice
What it asks It asks the student to read one sentence about O’Brien’s manner. “When he spoke of murder, suicide, venereal disease, amputated limbs and altered faces, it was with a faint air of persiflage. ‘This is unavoidable,’ his voice seemed to say; ‘this is what we have got to do, unflinchingly. But this is not what we shall be doing when life is worth living again.’ A wave of admiration, almost of worship, flowed out from Winston towards O’Brien.” Just before, the narrator says that “he had nothing of the single-mindedness that belongs to a fanatic.” The student says whose words the comfort is. The card must not make O’Brien a simple mentor, and must not claim his motives beyond what he says.
O’Brien’s, in all but sound. A manner can speak. His lightness, his grace and his irony carry the message as plainly as words, and the sentence is given in his voice, with his “we”. Winston reads him well, and the worship follows from what O’Brien really shows.
he gave an impression of confidence and of an understanding tinged by irony
it was with a faint air of persiflage
Winston’s. He has just said yes to murder and to acid, and he needs those yeses to be for something better. The line that would make them bearable is one O’Brien never says, so Winston supplies it. The word “seemed” marks it as his hearing. The worship comes from what he hears, not from what was said.
‘This is unavoidable,’ his voice seemed to say
A wave of admiration, almost of worship, flowed out from Winston towards O’Brien.
A strong answer A strong response says whose words the comfort is and argues from the paragraph on O’Brien’s manner. One reader says they are O’Brien’s in all but sound: his lightness and irony carry the message, and Winston reads him well. Another says they are Winston’s: having said yes to murder and to acid, he needs those yeses to serve something better, and “seemed” marks the line as his own. The best answers hear “seemed”, notice Goldstein forgotten, and neither make O’Brien a simple mentor nor hint at what he may be.
5. To Winston, wine belongs to “the vanished, romantic past”. When he tastes it, it is “distinctly disappointing.” Later O’Brien offers toasts to humanity and to the future, and Winston drinks to the past. Why does he still choose the past?Theme
What it asks It asks the student to set Winston’s second toast beside the wine. When O’Brien first pours, Winston takes up his glass “with a certain eagerness”. “Wine was a thing he had read and dreamed about. Like the glass paperweight or Mr Charrington’s half-remembered rhymes, it belonged to the vanished, romantic past, the olden time as he liked to call it in his secret thoughts.” He had always imagined it sweet, “like that of blackberry jam”. Then: “Actually, when he came to swallow it, the stuff was distinctly disappointing. The truth was that after years of gin-drinking he could barely taste it.” Much later, after O’Brien has said “We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future,” he fills the glasses again and offers “To the confusion of the Thought Police? To the death of Big Brother? To humanity? To the future?” Winston answers, “To the past,” and O’Brien agrees “gravely”: “The past is more important”. At the end, when he may ask anything, “a sort of composite picture” comes to him of his mother’s bedroom, the room over Mr Charrington’s shop, the glass paperweight and the engraving, and he asks about an old rhyme. The student says why Winston still chooses the past after the wine has let him down. The card must not say what Goldstein’s book says, or hint at later revelations about O’Brien.
Because the wine proved nothing against the past. The chapter gives the reason it disappoints: after years of gin he can barely taste it. The fault is in the present, which has dulled him, not in the past he dreamed of. Drinking to the past refuses to let the Party’s gin decide what was good, and O’Brien drops his irony to agree.
The truth was that after years of gin-drinking he could barely taste it.
‘The past is more important,’ agreed O’Brien gravely.
Because the past he loves is one no taste can spoil. Like the wine, it lives in what he has read and dreamed, in “his secret thoughts”. What comes to him when he may ask anything is a picture made of pieces: his mother’s room, the shop room, the paperweight, a rhyme. That past is part memory and part dream, and he will fight for it anyway. Dreams brought him to this door too: his case for O’Brien was “secret imaginings, founded on a dream.”
Wine was a thing he had read and dreamed about.
the olden time as he liked to call it in his secret thoughts
A strong answer A strong response says why Winston still drinks to the past after the wine has disappointed him, and argues from the wine paragraph and the second toast. One reader says the wine proved nothing against the past: the chapter blames years of gin, so the fault lies in the present, and O’Brien gravely agrees the past matters more. Another says the past Winston loves is one he has only read and dreamed about, so no taste can spoil it, and the composite picture and the rhyme at the end show that this half-dreamed past is what he is fighting for. The best answers hear that his is the only toast that looks back, notice the wine grouped with the paperweight and the rhymes, and do not reach ahead.
1. O’Brien says that for now nothing is possible “except to extend the area of sanity little by little.” Before that, Winston agreed to corrupt the minds of the young. He even agreed to throw acid in a youngster’s face, if it would serve the cause. Can a fight for sanity be fought that way?
What it asks It asks the student to judge whether the means Winston has accepted fit the end O’Brien names. In the questioning, O’Brien asks whether they are prepared “to cheat, to forge, to blackmail”, to corrupt the minds of the young, to spread drugs and disease, “to do anything which is likely to cause demoralisation and weaken the power of the Party?” Then he asks whether, “If, for example, it would somehow serve our interests”, they would throw sulphuric acid in a youngster’s face. Winston answers “Yes.” to each. Later O’Brien describes what can be done now: “At present nothing is possible except to extend the area of sanity little by little. We cannot act collectively. We can only spread our knowledge outwards from individual to individual, generation after generation.” The student builds a thesis on whether a fight for sanity can be fought with those means, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say that any of Winston’s promises is put to the test, or claim O’Brien’s motives beyond what he says.
It can, on O’Brien’s terms. The cruel acts aim at “the power of the Party”; the work of sanity is the slow part that outlasts it. The acid comes as an “if”, not an order. And the methods are spoken of as “unavoidable”, never as the goal.
to do anything which is likely to cause demoralisation and weaken the power of the Party
If, for example, it would somehow serve our interests
It cannot. Sanity spreads by knowledge, one mind at a time. Corrupting a young mind, or spreading drugs and disease, works the other way: it does to people what the fight is meant to undo. And the harm on the list falls on people, among them “hundreds of innocent people” and a youngster, not on the Party.
We can only spread our knowledge outwards from individual to individual, generation after generation.
To commit acts of sabotage which may cause the death of hundreds of innocent people?
A strong answer A strong response states whether a fight for sanity can be fought with the means Winston accepted, meets the strongest objection, and revises. One thesis says it can, on O’Brien’s terms: the cruel acts aim at the Party’s power, the acid comes as an “if”, and sanity is the slow work that outlasts them. The strongest objection is that the harm on the list falls on people, “hundreds of innocent people” and a youngster, and that corrupting minds undoes what spreading knowledge “from individual to individual” builds. A good revision separates the means from the stated end, and does not treat any promise as tested.
2. Winston says yes to murder for the Brotherhood but no to leaving Julia. Which answer shows more truly what he is fighting for?
What it asks It asks the student to judge Winston’s answers in the questioning. Asked “In general terms, what are you prepared to do?”, Winston says, “Anything that we are capable of”. O’Brien puts his questions “in a low, expressionless voice, as though this were a routine, a sort of catechism, most of whose answers were known to him already.” Winston says “Yes.” to giving their lives, to murder, to sabotage “which may cause the death of hundreds of innocent people”, to betraying his country, to the list of corruptions, to throwing sulphuric acid in a youngster’s face, to losing his identity, and to suicide on order. Then O’Brien asks, “You are prepared, the two of you, to separate and never see one another again?” “‘No!’ broke in Julia.” Winston struggles: “His tongue worked soundlessly, forming the opening syllables first of one word, then of the other, over and over again. Until he had said it, he did not know which word he was going to say. ‘No,’ he said finally.” O’Brien answers, “You did well to tell me,” and adds, “It is necessary for us to know everything.” The student builds a thesis on which answer shows more truly what Winston is fighting for, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say that any of his promises is put to the test, that O’Brien is lying or that the Brotherhood is a fiction, or claim O’Brien’s motives beyond what he says.
The “No”. The yeses come quickly, one word each, in a routine, and none of them costs him a pause. The “No” costs him his speech. What he is fighting for is the life the Party forbids, the one he owned up to in his first speech: a private love. The Brotherhood is the means; Julia is the end.
It appeared to Winston that a long time passed before he answered.
We are also adulterers.
The yeses. He came offering “Anything that we are capable of,” and he means it: his life, his identity, even his death on order. Those answers show a man at war with the Party by any means. The “No” is a weakness he barely admits; until he spoke, he did not know which word would come. And Julia said it first.
Anything that we are capable of
Until he had said it, he did not know which word he was going to say.
A strong answer A strong response states which answer shows more truly what Winston is fighting for, meets the strongest objection, and revises. One thesis says the “No”: the yeses come in a routine and cost nothing, the “No” costs him his speech, and what he fights for is the private love he confessed in “We are also adulterers.” The strongest objection is the yeses themselves, given freely to anything he is “capable of”, harm to the innocent included, and the fact that he did not know which word would come and that Julia spoke first. A good revision weighs his vague motives and the toast to the past, and does not claim any promise is tested.
Nothing but a flash of the eyes and a single equivocal remark: beyond that, only his own secret imaginings, founded on a dream.Pictures and stories made up in the mind, often hopes or fears with no proof behind them (from imagine). Before this visit, Winston’s whole case for O’Brien is “a flash of the eyes and a single equivocal remark: beyond that, only his own secret imaginings, founded on a dream.” The plural makes them many small pictures built up over time, and “founded on a dream” sets them against evidence.
You are prepared to cheat, to forge, to blackmail, to corrupt the minds of children, to distribute habit-forming drugs, to encourage prostitution, to disseminate venereal diseases – to do anything which is likely to cause demoralisation and weaken the power of the Party?The breaking of people’s spirit, so that they lose courage, hope and discipline; in an older sense, the corruption of their morals (de-, taking away, and moral; American spelling demoralization). O’Brien’s list aims at “anything which is likely to cause demoralisation and weaken the power of the Party”. Both senses fit the list: drugs, disease and corrupted young minds break people’s morals as well as their spirit, and it is people, not the Party, who would be broken.
However much in earnest he might be, he had nothing of the single-mindedness that belongs to a fanatic.Fixing the whole mind on one aim and shutting out everything else (single, mind, and -ness, the state of being). It can be praise, for a worker who will not be distracted, or a warning. Here it is a warning: it “belongs to a fanatic”, and Winston is reassured that O’Brien has “nothing of” it. Ask what a man who is in earnest, yet not single-minded, keeps room for.
When he spoke of murder, suicide, venereal disease, amputated limbs and altered faces, it was with a faint air of persiflage.Light, teasing talk that treats serious things as if they were small; banter (French, from persifler, to tease, built on siffler, to whistle). O’Brien speaks of murder and amputated limbs “with a faint air of persiflage”. To Winston the lightness shows a man who is no fanatic; a reader may also notice how much the lightness makes bearable.