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Reading Reminder! For next tuesday, don't forget to read chapters 4 to 6!
On Winston's downfall and arrest
During last tuesday's class, we have discussed the causes that may have lead to Winton's arrest. Here are the main points:
Winston is too trusting. Except for his distrust of Julia at the beginning of the novel, the reader rarely sees him question someone's motives, even when he finds himself in a situation where his life (and that of others) could possibly be at stake.
He is an idealist. Despite the society in which he lives, Winston ultimately believes in human goodness. For example, his journal suggests that he believes that the rule of the Party will not endure, he believes in the Brotherhood even after having read The Black Book and having been arrested and betrayed and he believe that his relationship and love for Julia will transcend torture.
His guards are dangerously lowered. His domestic relationship with Julia has him stop to take basic precautionary measures to avoid being caught. This relationship also humanizes him and changes his focus from Party life to his own personal life. Hence, he lives as a pre-revolutionary person in a totalitarian society.
He forgets to adapt to his social realities. Winston is so caught up in the life he has created with Julia that he forgets about the workings of the outside world, as examplified with the clock incident, which is the mistake that ultimately gets him arrested.
He has a deathwish.Even before attempting to re-shape his life with Julia, Winston is aware that his actions will get him into the Ministry of Love, but choose to move forward nevertheless. (166) One could even argue that he was expecting his own arrest ("It was starting at last" (230)) It is possible that Winston's ultimate aim was to die for a cause. He wants to overthrow the Party, is willing to perpetrate acts of extreme violence to succeed and does not care if he dies in the process.
We also discussed how Winston lost his idealism once the tortures in the Ministry of Love began. For example, there is a contradiction between Winston's rational thoughts and his natural instincts.
Winston is intellectually aware of having loved Julia in the past, but somehow cannot feel anything towards her in the Ministry.
He intellectually does not wish to betray her and wishes he could take more pain to help her, but knows deep down that he does not care and will save himself at the first opportunity.
This situation is similar to most situations of life threatening crisis (take other fictional examples such as high scale natural catastrophies orthe zombie apocalypsea violent virus outbreak) where human made rules and intellectualized concepts or emotions are overruled by the need for survival.
Summary of March 15th's class...
... in which we went through the dreaded Black Book chapter.
Some major points that were discussed in class:
The Brotherhood and The Party are two sides of the same coin. They both uphold similar ideologies and ask of their members the same dehumanizing things as Big Brother (for instance to lie, cheat, kill falsify documents, corrupt others, forsake one's humanity and identity and blindly follow orders). If you want the power point presentation with the quotes from the novel, let me know!
Winston, for someone who sees the corruption first hand, is too trusting. There are obvious signs that O'Brien might not be what it seems, which should have raised an alarm. For instance:
O'Brien is overly charismatic. He is very curious about Winston anf constantly agrees with him, which acts as a means to gain his trust in order to get him to confess his hate of the Party and his hiding place.
O'Brien has control over the telescreen. Only very high ranked Inner Party members and Thought Police members have such privileges.
He has been watching Winston since the beginning of the novel. Winston was very suspicious of Julia, at first, why is he not suspicious of O'Brien?
It is highly probable that The Brotherhood (the way Winston perceived it) does not exist. Instead of the underground organization aiming to overthrow the Party, The Brotherhood is an intricate trap to catch Thought Criminals and The Black Book was written in part by O'Brien himself.
The Black Book is not revolutionary in any way. On the contrary, it seems to be a "how to" manual for Inner Party members, explaining and justifying the Party's ideology.
Here is the prezi presentation summarizing the contents of the Black Book and O'Brien's ensnaring of Winston (apparently the Prezis don't open on tumblr. I have changed my prezi settings and they should work now. If you're still have difficulties opening files, let me know.)
For next class, don't forget to read chapter 10 and chapter 1 of part 3! You will also have a short reading quiz (closed book) on these chapters
Interesting documentary or Orwellm his influences and the possible real life location of Room 101.
A last minute reminder that for next class (tomorrow) you have to read chapters 8 and 9 pt.2 of the novel!
EXTENDED DUE DATE OF THE SHORT STORY PROJECT! READ THIS!
Hi folks!
After a student mentioned at the end of last class that March 12th might be a little tight to hand in the short stories since some people might be out of town during the break, we have agreed to extend the due date to Friday March 15th.
I REPEAT, NEW DUE DATE FOR THE SHORT STORY PROJECT IS MARCH 15TH! PASS IT ON!
A great Reading Week to everyone!
White Armour
It had started again. Cassandra crinkled her eyes and wrapped her thin arms around her knees as the bright lights circled the room. This could only mean one thing: the machines in white armour were coming, coming for her. A cry echoed from the next cell, startling the young woman out of her daze. She had to get out, get out before the White Army took away her secret, obliterated her and the memory she had ever existed outside of this shell. She would not become one of them; one of the ghosts of a long lost humanity that lingered in the South Wing. Cassandra did not know with certainty what took place behind the cold stone walls, but she knew none ever escaped.
It was all because of the Spy Network, of course. It infiltrated lives, homes, the very corners of one’s mind, until, unable to ward it off, the masses became one with it, turned into sub-human units roaming the polluted streets, head gear and interface wired on their bodies like an awkward robotic limb. But – and this was all part of its great plan Cassie had no doubt-, the Network purred its propaganda into weak ears pulling each and every victim into its cradle willingly. For willing they were! Cassie reminisced, chills running down her spine, images of the outside world flashing through her mind: people wired on the streets, one the train, in cafes, insensitive to others around them… they were taking over, over, everything was speeding too fast, she couldn’t breathe… NO!!!!!
A loud thumping on the metal door chased the thoughts away and replaced them with an imminent sense of foreboding. The door creaked and there it was, in all of its magnetic terror: one of them, an Android in white armour, its metallic gear gleaming under the gaslights.
“How are we today, Cassandra?” the device asked in low monochord electrical tones. She did not answer, but braced herself for what was to come. The guardian interfaces were programmed to project a caring, almost cheerful exterior, but Cassie knew it was nothing but a ruse to get her to relinquish her humanity and accept the outside world. It’s not real, it’s not real, she repeated herself as she was guided through the cold, narrow corridor. This world was after all but a complex alternate virtual reality modeled to keep the population in line. Feed them pleasure, feed them entertainment, no matter how perverse, and you were guaranteed to keep the flock dumbed down and where you wanted it. But not her, and this was why she, along with everyone else in this place, were entrapped within these walls until conformity or the South Wing hit them. Of course, Cassie could have gone on living her life knowing the truth without any repercussion from the State, but one day, living without screens, and head gears and interfaces was simply not enough; she had to get out of this place altogether. In a fit of panic mingled with rage, she had swiped the nearest razor blade over her wrist, wildly hoping to destroy this flesh and blood avatar and wake up in a world where everyone was free and androids only existed in nightmares. She had come close, oh so close! It was the only possible explanation as to why the Androids of the Spy Network had caught her: they knew that she knew. It had to be it.
They had arrived at destination and the white geared device helped Cassie in an uncomfortable plastic chair that obviously had seen better days. Other convicts were also being brought in, some already fascinated, despite themselves, by the communication screens strategically gracing the walls. Cassie assumed that it was how whoever was in charge in this place was watching them, carefully monitoring their every breath, every stare, every fluctuation in their moods… She also suspected that this attempt to have open up to the screen was but a way to single out the resilient ones, the ones bound to the South Wing. The Androids were circling the room again, this time with trays of water and food. The young woman exchanged a knowing glance with the convict sitting next to her. She too knew. Anya – this was her name- had been there for even longer than Cassie after she had tried to help a wired person on the street back to humanity. For this, she was never coming out.
Over time, each of them had tried to resist the drugs they were force fed to be kept unconscious and obedient. The outcome had been the same every time: they had woken a few days later, bruised, numb minded and with an array of needles slapped on their arms. The two women had met in the experiment room. Pretending to be absorbed by the contents of the communication screens, they had quickly seen allies in each other through their knowledge of the Spy Network’s plans and their desire to escape and overthrow this cursed virtual reality. And today was D-day.
Their plan was quite simple. As one of the Androids came their way with the trays of food, Anya would create a diversion while Cassie would attempt to damage its computer system with any weapon at their disposal, which at the moment summed itself up to chairs and knives. Despite the high improbability of destroying a high tech warrior machine with plastic chairs and blunt knives, Cassie and Anya hoped that their stunt would create enough confusion for them to glean the Code Card from their weakened and distracted target and dash to the South Wing to unleash what could be salvaged of the victims. Their enterprise was reckless, but complete annihilation was still a better option than rotting in this place.
The metallic clanking of the food tray was ringing in the distance. It was time. The young women’s eyes locked in one last anxious stare and with a quick grip of Cassie’s fingers, Anya charged towards the unsuspecting device, screaming. As her friend struggled with the lustrous white figure, Cassie impulsively grabbed the nearest knife and raced in aid of her companion. In perfect awareness that her attack was futile, but unable to control her vengeful impulse, Cassie ran her weapon into the Android’s back with all the desperate strength of the condemned. Expecting nothing but to feel the throbbing after shock of the blow on her arm and witness the unscratched armour of her foe, Cassie dropped her weapon in a horror and triumph mingled shock as the shining mail was no longer immaculate white; it was red.
Anya had already fled with the key to the South Ward as two Androids roughly grabbed Cassie’s arms and another proceeded to attend to its fallen comrade, who, Cassie saw for the first time, her eyes twinkling with a panicked, helpless gleam, that her enemy was not metal and wire, but flesh and blood. The white uniforms were the not impenetrable armour of the deadly White Army, but the white robes of the medical orderly. It was too late, Cassie feebly thought. You… have… done… this to me…, she mumbled as she lost control over her limbs, her eyes rolled in her sockets and a sharp needle nested itself in her arm.
In an office of the southern building, the head doctor was sitting at his desk, two files opened in front of him:
Cassandra Hamilton: Relapsed Internet addict, diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia.
Anya Black: Diagnosed with clinical insanity and charged with multiple assaults.
There was nothing more anyone could do, the head of the Facility repeated himself, these girls were beyond saving, he added for the sake of a clear conscience, as he signed the papers to their transfer. They were bound to the South Wing, high security ward for the violent and the criminally insane.
Winston's relationships, a summary
Katherine :
- Winston’s first wife (loveless marriage)
- Very Orthodox
- Inserts Party Ideology in all aspects of married life
Prostitute :
- Prole
- Very poor and desperate for money
- Simple exchange of sex for money, no other link with Winston
Julia :
- Political union with Winston for the sake of rebellion
- A companionship forms itself as the relationship develops
- Still her character is ambiguous. She rebels against the Party (sexually and emotionally), but does not care about other forms of corruption. She seems to enjoy most aspects of Party life.
- Is reckless and probably sees her relationship with Winston as a thrill instead of actual love.
Consequences on Winston (Katherine) :
- Desire for violence, wishes to end the relationship and even kill his wife
- No sense of domesticity
- Strong dislike of sexual relations
- This first marriage may also be one of the reasons why Winston dislikes women
Consequences on Winston (The Prostitute):
- Seems to have had sexual relations with the prostitute only out of perverse curiosity
- The reader does not get the impression that Winston enjoyed it.
Consequences on Winston (Julia):
- The relationship and its developing domestic aspect humanize Winston. He becomes healthier both physically and emotionally. Unlike in his previous marriage, Winston has a “home” with Julia where they can be ordinary people.
- Winston comes to enjoy intimacy
- This relationship is also part of their undoing.
V for Vendetta by Alan Moore - 1984 - part4
V for Vendetta by Alan Moore - 1984 - part3
V for Vendetta by Alan Moore - 1984 - part2
V for Vendetta by Alan Moore - 1984 - part1
Airships
Airships
By Robert Boardman
Sitting there at the kitchen table the next morning, his breakfast laid out before him, John re-read the secret note he had found in his cubby-hole at work.
Let time and destiny guide us even if our choices might be painful…
His head started hurting. This was madness, this was very out of the ordinary… an affair like this at work was not only condoned by the administration but officially illegal in the state of Prime. If this kept up, he and Judith would be both locked up and sent to the asbestos mines in a flash. The fact that she was also married to the lieutenant chief inspector of the Skull military division of foreign affairs made things a million times worse. The man was known to be ruthlessly orthodox and unforgiving when it came to matters the family. If they were caught, there’s no telling what would become of them.
John took his pill. Slowly, as he began chewing his regulation breakfast and orange, his headache receded to the back of his brain, and then slowly faded away, as if someone was pulling an invisible string behind his head. Looking outside the window of his one bedroom apartment as he washed down the last bits of his tasteless meal, he noticed, beyond all the other grey apartment buildings, the traffic on the elevated highway slowly begin to speed up as the clouds on the horizon started to rush across the sky faster and faster. Airships sped above the city at an unnatural speed as the morning sky got brighter and brighter, the sun reflecting off their silver, balloon surfaces in blinding flashes of light. Suddenly he was dressed in his grey suit and grey overcoat, his grey hat on his head as was the fashion in Prime and was sitting down in his usual subway car, sitting across the same usual faceless, grey people on his way to work. One moment he was checking his watch for the time, the next one, he was lowering his wrist and staring at the compu-screen at his office cubicle; lunch time only fifteen minutes away. The sun quickly streaked across the sky and crashed into the horizon as he caught the same subway train back home, where he lay his head on his pillow and turned out the lamp on his bedside table. Then up again, his breakfast pill washed down again, back on the subway, back in front of the compu-screen, then back home with his hand reaching out to turn off the lamp, then again the next day, after another, and another and ever on so for the next six months, until all the days going by felt like one big familiar dream being repeated over and over, each one like the rest of them.
Then, finding himself hailing a taxi to the nearest airship station at the end of another normal day, John found himself for the first time in six months out of the ordinary with a slight headache stemming from the back of his head.
*
The Hamilton Cross-county Airship Station towered before him as he stepped out of the taxi and paid his fair. John had never been here, in fact, this was his first zeppelin ride ever. After clearing customs and being frisked by a couple of dog handling skullies, he had to take the elevator up to the 135th floor and sit in the waiting room while his airship prepared to dock. Looking out the floor to ceiling windows, John had a breathtaking view of the city he grew up in; large grey monolith-like buildings stretched almost to the horizon, lined up in rows like big black dominoes, bisected at 90 degree angles with the avenues that paralleled with the horizon, thousands of little toy cars looked like black and grey insects rushing to and fro along the busy boulevards. He had a good twenty minutes to himself before the scheduled airship arrived, so finding the nearest bench facing the docking bay; John took a seat and read the headlines from his paper. Vagrants Vacated and Tried, Traitor Admits to Spying on Public Health Technology Center, Vice-Admiral Trenton Awarded Medal of Valor, Homosexual Couple Convicted and Killed, and so on the paper read. Before long, he heard the deep blast of the horn of his zeppelin announcing its arrival in the distance.
Feeling very out of the ordinary, his suitcase in one hand and his newspaper in the other, John stood in line and waited for the huge silver balloon to slowly and silently attach itself to the connecting rod at the top of the station. It was an eerie thing to witness, such a huge beast of a machine move so slowly and quietly through the sky as tiny attendants threw cables out to the landing crew while the zeppelin made its final docking procedures. Tentatively, for he had never been on such a huge beast of a vehicle ever before in his life, he boarded the ship and found his seat. After a short while, the balloon slowly dragged itself out of the station and started to gain speed. He sat there in the vast coach and just took in the almost impossible view below him. The ship was flying west, in the direction of the setting sun and Richardson Mines was still a five hour flight away so he had plenty of time to take in the vista. Looking out the window, John started thinking about the last six months.
At first, this was just casual daydreaming, it was easy to remember the same day repeated hundreds of times over, and John almost dismissed the last six months as ordinary as any other moment in his adult life.
A headache was starting to bud in the back of his skull. Wasn’t there something? Something had happened in that period of time and the thought slowly surfaced from a deeper recess of his mind as John entertained the idea. There was something. The more John tried to squeeze the thought out, the sharper his headache got. He had a flash of a blond woman with a bloody face, but the thought was whisked away before he could seize it. Without thinking, his hand instinctively went to his suitcase perhaps going for the pills he had there in one of the inside compartments. But then for some reason, John decided to pass on the medication – he would enjoy this airship ride fully, pain in the head or no.
As he continued to stare out the window watching the sun poke in and out of a patchy sky, John chased after the thought again, that nagging feeling that something was somehow locked away in his mind for some reason, and was resisting coming back up to show itself, almost in fear of how his conscious mind would take it.
This only fuelled John to further ponder on the idea when the sun flashed out through a hole in a cloud and he was stabbed in the eye for a split second by a white ray of light. Suddenly the memory came back to him. Judith from work. Bloody, beaten, defeated Judith. She had been so furious as the skullies had dragged her away… so outraged as the tears streaked down her battered face. John sat back, and bathed in the flood of memories that were rushing back into his head, taking him back a fortnight ago when his office had thrown him a going away party. The night Judith Krempt was arrested by the Skulls Human Affairs division for adultery and was dragged away, kicking and screaming “It’s not fair! It’s my life… It’s my life goddamit!” Judith had not been as lucky as him. Yes, he had lost his job in Prime and was being transferred to Richardson Mines, but Judith had been beaten and taken away to who knows where. The officers in their skull shaped helmets had simply walked in on the party out of the blue and had taken her, end of story. Who knows where she was now. Dead? Alive? John had gotten off easy and he knew it. So when he’d received his transfer papers, he had taken them silently and had accepted his fate. It looked like time and destiny had finally caught up with both of them after all. Meanwhile, the silver airship crawled across a greying sky headed to Richardson Mines and the horizon beyond.
Time table for the Short Story Project (week of feb 25)
Monday: I will be in Robert's office all day, so you can come see me with drafts, questions, ideas etc
Tuesday: I will have office hours in the morning and we will work on the novel during class.
Wednesday-Thursday: I am at university, but you can still e-mail me ([email protected])
Friday: I have office hours in the morning and you will have the whole two hour period to work on your projects.
For next class (tuesday) read chapters 3 to 7 pt 2 (inclusively)!