Part Three, Chapter 2 — Teaching Companion

What it asks It asks the student to listen for whose way of thinking speaks in one sentence about the confessions. Questioned in relays, Winston becomes “simply a mouth that uttered, a hand that signed, whatever was demanded of him.” He confesses to murders, sabotage, spying for Eastasia, and “that he had murdered his wife, although he knew, and his questioners must have known, that his wife was still alive.” Then: “It was easier to confess everything and implicate everybody. Besides, in a sense it was all true. It was true that he had been the enemy of the Party, and in the eyes of the Party there was no distinction between the thought and the deed.” The student says whose voice they hear in that sentence: Winston’s, the Party’s, or both at once. The card must not say that Winston is converted; at the end of the chapter “the old fear, the hatred and the bewilderment came crowding back”.

One reading

Winston’s own, and an honest one. He did hate the Party and did work against it, so the list is false in its details and true at its heart. He still knows his wife is alive. A man who can no longer say no to his questioners can still be truthful with himself about what he was.

• It was true that he had been the enemy of the Party
• He confessed that he had murdered his wife, although he knew, and his questioners must have known, that his wife was still alive.

Another reading

The Party’s, already inside him. Only someone who sees no difference between a thought and a deed could call a false murder true. The sentence speaks O’Brien’s creed before O’Brien has said it, so the Party has reached Winston’s reasons, not just his signature.

• in the eyes of the Party there was no distinction between the thought and the deed
• All the confessions that are uttered here are true.

Listen for

• Hears “Besides”: the sentence comes after “It was easier to confess everything”. Is the truth his reason for confessing, or a comfort he finds afterwards?
• Notices “in a sense”. The page gives the sense: “in the eyes of the Party”. Is Winston looking through those eyes here, or only reporting what they see?
• Sets it beside O’Brien’s later “We make them true.” Has the Party’s idea reached Winston first, or does the reader hear an echo Winston cannot?
• Keeps to the page: Winston says what is wanted and still knows his wife is alive. The chapter does not show him converted.

If stuck

• What does Winston confess to, and which of it does he know is false?
• What reason does the page give for confessing everything?
• Have you ever owned up to something you did not do because you felt guilty in a bigger way?

A strong answer A strong response says whose voice speaks in “in a sense it was all true”, and argues from the sentences around it. One reader hears Winston’s own honesty: he was the Party’s enemy, so the confession is false in its facts but true at its heart, and he still knows his wife is alive. Another hears the Party already inside him: only a mind that sees no gap between thought and deed could call a false murder true, and O’Brien later says the same thing outright. The best answers weigh “Besides” and “in a sense”, and do not call Winston converted.

What it asks It asks the student to test one sentence of Winston’s against what O’Brien does once he is in the room. “All through his interrogation, although he had never seen him, he had had the feeling that O’Brien was at his elbow, just out of sight.” Then: “He was the tormentor, he was the protector, he was the inquisitor, he was the friend.” In the room, O’Brien moves the lever “Without any warning except a slight movement of O’Brien’s hand”. Between rounds of the fingers he holds Winston, and Winston is “curiously comforted by the heavy arm round his shoulders”. He calls the Inquisition “a failure” and says the Party is “different from the persecutors of the past”. He tells Winston, “I enjoy talking to you.” The student chooses the word that fits him best and defends it. The card must not treat O’Brien’s feelings as known; the page gives what he says and does, and Winston’s reading of it.

One reading

The tormentor, and the other three are its tools. O’Brien’s hand works the dial. The comfort comes from the same man straight after, and it works only because the pain did. The arm round the shoulders is part of the treatment, and Winston’s sense that the pain comes “from some other source” shows it working.

• Without any warning except a slight movement of O’Brien’s hand, a wave of pain flooded his body.
• He had the feeling that O’Brien was his protector, that the pain was something that came from outside, from some other source, and that it was O’Brien who would save him from it.

Another reading

The friend, in the sense Winston gives the word. In this chapter O’Brien is the only one who knows Winston’s mind, says his thoughts aloud and talks with him about ideas. Winston feels a bond “deeper than friendship”, and nothing he knows about O’Brien undoes it.

• In some sense that went deeper than friendship, they were intimates
• O’Brien was a person who could be talked to.

Listen for

• Hears the order of the four: the sentence starts in pain and ends in friendship. Does the chapter run the same way?
• Weighs “inquisitor”. O’Brien calls the Inquisition “a failure” and sets the Party apart from it. Is he an inquisitor who has studied the old ones?
• Notices that in the room the four never come apart: “Again” and “gently” come from the same voice, and the arm round the shoulders belongs to the man at the lever.
• Keeps to the page: what O’Brien feels is Winston’s reading. The page shows what O’Brien does and says, not what he means by it.

If stuck

• What does O’Brien do with his hands in this chapter?
• When does Winston feel safest with him, and when most afraid?
• Can the person who hurts you also be the one who understands you best?

A strong answer A strong response picks one of the four words and defends it from what O’Brien does in the room. One reader chooses tormentor: his hand works the dial, and the comfort that follows the pain is part of the method, as Winston’s feeling that the pain comes “from some other source” shows. Another chooses friend, in Winston’s sense: O’Brien is the one person who knows Winston’s mind and talks with him, and Winston feels it “deeper than friendship”. The best answers deal with “inquisitor”, since O’Brien calls the Inquisition a failure, and notice that the four never come apart.

What it asks It asks the student to explain why Winston fears O’Brien’s forgetting more than a lie. For a few seconds Winston sees the photograph of Jones, Aaronson and Rutherford. He cries, “It exists!” O’Brien drops it into the memory hole: “Ashes,” and “It does not exist. It never existed.” Winston answers, “It exists in memory. I remember it. You remember it.” “I do not remember it,” says O’Brien. Then: “Winston’s heart sank. That was doublethink. He had a feeling of deadly helplessness. If he could have been certain that O’Brien was lying, it would not have seemed to matter. But it was perfectly possible that O’Brien had really forgotten the photograph.” The paragraph ends: “Perhaps that lunatic dislocation in the mind could really happen: that was the thought that defeated him.” The student says why the lie would be easier. The card must not settle whether O’Brien lied or forgot; Winston cannot tell, and neither can the reader.

One reading

A liar still knows the truth. If O’Brien were lying, the photograph would still live in two minds, and Winston would not be alone with it. A real forgetting leaves Winston as its only witness, which is just what O’Brien calls him a little later.

• It exists in memory. I remember it. You remember it.
• You preferred to be a lunatic, a minority of one.

Another reading

A lie can be fought, and a real forgetting cannot. If a mind as sharp as O’Brien’s can truly wipe itself clean, then minds can be wiped, Winston’s too. His hope that memory is out of the Party’s reach is gone, and that is the thought that defeats him.

• But it was perfectly possible that O’Brien had really forgotten the photograph.
• Perhaps that lunatic dislocation in the mind could really happen: that was the thought that defeated him.

Listen for

• Hears “That was doublethink.” Winston names it at once. Does naming it give him any power over it?
• Notices how far the forgetting reaches: O’Brien would have “forgotten his denial of remembering it, and forgotten the act of forgetting.” What would be left to catch him in?
• Weighs “defeated”. The dial has not beaten Winston, but this one thought does.
• Keeps to the page: whether O’Brien lied or forgot stays open, and the answer should not settle it.

If stuck

• What happens to the photograph, and what does O’Brien say about it?
• What two things might be true of O’Brien when he says “I do not remember it”?
• Which would shake you more: a friend who lies about something you both saw, or one who truly does not remember it?

A strong answer A strong response explains why a lie would be easier for Winston than a real forgetting, and argues from the paragraph after “I do not remember it”. One reader says a liar still holds the truth, so Winston would not be alone with the photograph, while a real forgetting makes him the only witness. Another says a lie can be fought, but a mind that can truly wipe itself shows that minds can be wiped, Winston’s included, which is “the thought that defeated him”. The best answers trace how far the forgetting reaches and leave open which O’Brien did.

What it asks It asks the student to decide whose account of Winston’s memory holds: Winston’s, that remembering happens to a person, or O’Brien’s, that it is something Winston does and could stop doing. Winston cries, “But how can you stop people remembering things?” and goes on, “It is involuntary. It is outside oneself. How can you control memory? You have not controlled mine!” O’Brien lays his hand on the dial and turns the words round: “you have not controlled it. That is what has brought you here. You are here because you have failed in humility, in self-discipline.” Earlier he said, “You have never cured yourself of it, because you did not choose to. There was a small effort of the will that you were not ready to make.” Later, though, he does not wait for Winston’s will. A machine behind Winston’s head leaves “a large patch of emptiness”, and O’Brien fills it. The student says who understands Winston’s memory better, and why. The card must not turn this into a lecture on theories of reality; the photograph, the dial and the blast are the ground.

One reading

Winston. He did not choose to remember the photograph, and he cannot choose to forget it. That is what makes his memory a witness the Party cannot argue with. In the end O’Brien does not rely on Winston’s will: a machine empties part of his mind, and O’Brien pours his own words in.

• It is involuntary. It is outside oneself.
• somewhere or other there was a large patch of emptiness, as though a piece had been taken out of his brain.

Another reading

O’Brien, at least in part. Winston has kept the photograph in mind for eleven years while every record said it never existed. That keeping is something he does, so O’Brien can call it a refusal: the “small effort of the will” Winston would not make. And what Winston does, he could stop doing. That is where the fingers lead.

• There was a small effort of the will that you were not ready to make.
• Even now, I am well aware, you are clinging to your disease under the impression that it is a virtue.

Listen for

• Hears that Winston says two things at once: memory is “outside oneself”, yet “You have not controlled mine!” claims it as his own.
• Notices O’Brien’s words for the cure: “humility”, “self-discipline”, “submission”. They are the names of virtues. What happens to them when they mean forgetting?
• Sets the argument beside the blast. If forgetting were only a matter of will, why does O’Brien need the machine behind Winston’s head?
• Keeps to the page: the answer should come from the photograph, the dial and what the two men say, not from a lecture on what reality is.

If stuck

• What does Winston say about memory, and what does O’Brien say back?
• What does O’Brien say Winston has failed to do?
• Have you ever tried hard to forget something? What did the trying feel like?

A strong answer A strong response says who understands Winston’s memory better, and argues from the exchange over the dial. One reader sides with Winston: memory is “outside oneself”, which is why it can bear witness, and in the end O’Brien uses a machine, not Winston’s will, to empty a piece of it. Another sides with O’Brien, at least in part: Winston has kept the photograph in mind for eleven years, that keeping is something he does, and what he does he could stop doing. The best answers catch Winston saying memory is both outside him and his own, and notice that O’Brien’s words for forgetting are the names of virtues.

What it asks It asks the student to say what O’Brien is measuring. Winston answers “Four” until the pain drives him to “Five! Five! Five!” O’Brien answers, “No, Winston, that is no use. You are lying. You still think there are four.” Later, with his eyes shut, Winston sees “a forest of fingers” and knows “only that it was impossible to count them, and that this was somehow due to the mysterious identity between five and four.” Asked again, he says, “I don’t know. I don’t know. You will kill me if you do that again. Four, five, six – in all honesty I don’t know.” O’Brien says, “Better,” and a needle brings “a blissful, healing warmth”. The student says what “I don’t know” gives O’Brien that “Five!” did not. The card must not say Winston now sees five; that comes later, after the shock, and fades.

One reading

Honesty. “Five! Five! Five!” was a lie to stop the pain, and O’Brien named it a lie. “I don’t know” is true: the fingers have really blurred for him. O’Brien would rather have Winston’s real mind, even a confused one, than a right answer that is false.

• No, Winston, that is no use. You are lying.
• Four, five, six – in all honesty I don’t know.

Another reading

The four itself. “Five” left the four standing underneath it: “You still think there are four.” “I don’t know” means the four is gone. It is not yet five, but the certainty O’Brien set out to break has broken.

• You still think there are four.
• He knew only that it was impossible to count them, and that this was somehow due to the mysterious identity between five and four.

Listen for

• Hears “in all honesty” from a man who has just been called a liar. Is it honesty, or is it what the pain has done to his eyes?
• Follows the fingers as they change: “like pillars” and “unmistakably four”, then “a forest of fingers”, then fingers “like moving trees”.
• Weighs “Better”, not “Good”. O’Brien said “Good” earlier, to the answer about Eastasia. What is still missing?
• Keeps to the page: “I don’t know” is not five, and the reward is “Better”, nothing more.

If stuck

• What does Winston answer each time O’Brien asks how many fingers?
• Which answer does O’Brien throw out, and which does he praise?
• Is “I don’t know” ever a harder answer to give than a sure one?

A strong answer A strong response says what “I don’t know” gives O’Brien that “Five! Five! Five!” did not, and argues from the answers in order. One reader says honesty: the five was a lie to stop the pain, and O’Brien wants Winston’s real mind, even confused. Another says the four itself: the five left it standing, and “I don’t know” shows it has finally broken. The best answers follow the fingers from “pillars” to “moving trees”, notice “Better” where O’Brien once said “Good”, and do not claim Winston now sees five.

What it asks It asks the student to test an argument Winston makes against himself. After the speech about the Inquisition, Winston watches O’Brien and thinks: “He is not pretending, thought Winston; he is not a hypocrite; he believes every word he says. What most oppressed him was the consciousness of his own intellectual inferiority.” “There was no idea that he had ever had, or could have, that O’Brien had not long ago known, examined and rejected. His mind contained Winston’s mind. But in that case how could it be true that O’Brien was mad? It must be he, Winston, who was mad.” Earlier in the same scene, he saw in O’Brien’s face “a sort of exaltation, a lunatic intensity”. Later, told “You do not exist”, he still sees “a logical absurdity”, and asks, “But what use was it to say so?” The student builds a thesis on where the reasoning breaks, if it does, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not treat “he believes every word he says” as fact; it is Winston’s judgment, not the narrator’s.

One reading

It holds, from where Winston lies. O’Brien has twice said Winston’s unspoken thoughts aloud, and has met every objection before it was made. Winston cannot even say which answer about the past he believes. If a larger mind has weighed all your ideas and set them aside, the humble conclusion is that you are the one who is wrong.

• There was no idea that he had ever had, or could have, that O’Brien had not long ago known, examined and rejected.
• he did not even know which answer he believed to be the true one

Another reading

It breaks at “how could it be true”. Knowing all of someone’s ideas does not make your own right; a mind can be large and mad. Winston has just seen madness in that face, and the step from larger to saner comes from a feeling of being smaller, which the page names, not from an argument.

• Moreover it was filled with a sort of exaltation, a lunatic intensity.
• What most oppressed him was the consciousness of his own intellectual inferiority.

Listen for

• Finds the step that carries the weight: “But in that case how could it be true that O’Brien was mad?” What would have to be true for that step to work?
• Hears “contained”. Does knowing a thought mean holding it, or having answered it?
• Weighs “I think I exist,” said “wearily”, after Winston has decided he is mad. He goes on reasoning anyway. Does that count against his own conclusion?
• Revises with the whole chapter in view, but keeps to the page: “he believes every word he says” is Winston’s judgment of O’Brien, not a fact the narrator gives.

If stuck

• What does Winston think about O’Brien’s mind while O’Brien walks up and down?
• What does he decide about himself?
• If someone knows far more than you, does that make them right about everything?

A strong answer A strong response says where, if anywhere, Winston’s reasoning breaks, meets the strongest objection, and revises. One thesis says it holds from where he lies: O’Brien has read his thoughts aloud and answered every objection in advance, and Winston cannot even say what he believes about the past. The strongest objection is that knowing a mind is not the same as being right, and Winston has just seen “a lunatic intensity” in the larger mind; the step to his own madness comes from what “most oppressed him”. A good revision names the exact step that fails, or explains why it holds, and does not treat Winston’s view of O’Brien’s sincerity as fact.

What it asks It asks the student to judge Winston’s answer to the one choice O’Brien puts to him. Winston has held to “Four” through the rising needle, cried “Four! Four! What else can I say? Four!”, and broken into “Five! Five! Five!”, which O’Brien calls a lie. Then: “Four. I suppose there are four. I would see five if I could. I am trying to see five.” O’Brien asks, “Which do you wish: to persuade me that you see five, or really to see them?” Winston answers, “Really to see them.” After the next surge comes “I don’t know”, and with the needle, Winston “had never loved him so deeply as at this moment, and not merely because he had stopped the pain.” After the shock, with “a large patch of emptiness” in his head, he sees five “for a fleeting instant”: “thirty seconds, perhaps – of luminous certainty”. It fades, and “the old fear, the hatred and the bewilderment came crowding back again.” The student builds a thesis on whether “Really to see them” is a surrender or a kind of honesty, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say Winston is converted, and must not say how his story ends.

One reading

A surrender. Before, Winston’s answer came from his eyes: “unmistakably four”. Now he wants his eyes to give way. Wishing to see five is the “small effort of the will” O’Brien demanded, and the love that follows shows how deep the change goes.

• I would see five if I could. I am trying to see five.
• He had never loved him so deeply as at this moment, and not merely because he had stopped the pain.

Another reading

A kind of honesty. O’Brien asks a real question and punishes lies, and Winston answers it truly: he does wish to see five, because seeing five would end the pain and the struggle. Wishing is not yet believing. When the five finally comes it fades, and the old fear and hatred come back, so his mind is still his own enough to say what it wants.

• Which do you wish: to persuade me that you see five, or really to see them?
• Then everything was normal again, and the old fear, the hatred and the bewilderment came crowding back again.

Listen for

• Hears that O’Brien asks what Winston wishes, not what he sees. Can an honest answer about a wish still give something up?
• Weighs the thirty seconds of “luminous certainty”. They come after the shock, when O’Brien’s words fill “a patch of emptiness”. Did the wish come true, or did the machine do it?
• Notices how the moment is kept: “he could not recapture it, he could remember it”, as one remembers a time when one was “in effect a different person”. Is that memory a loss or a defence?
• Revises with the whole chapter in view, but keeps to the page: the five fades, the old feelings come back, and the chapter does not show Winston converted or say how his story ends.

If stuck

• What does Winston answer each time he is asked how many fingers?
• What two things does O’Brien ask him to choose between, and which does he choose?
• Is it ever honest to say you want to believe something you do not believe yet?

A strong answer A strong response states whether “Really to see them” is a surrender or a kind of honesty, meets the strongest objection, and revises. One thesis calls it a surrender: Winston’s answer once came from his eyes, “unmistakably four”, and now he wants his eyes to give way, and the love that follows shows how deep the change reaches. The strongest objection is that O’Brien asked a real question and punishes lies, so a true answer about a wish is honest, and wishing is not yet believing: the five, when it comes, fades. A good revision weighs whether the thirty seconds came from Winston’s wish or from the machine, and does not call Winston converted.