Shadowing Practice: 1984 Audiobook – Part 1, Chapter 1 | George Orwell - Learn English Speaking with Video
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1
Peachy Teo reading George Orwell's 1984
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Part 1 Chapter 1
3
It was a bright, cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
4
Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions,
5
though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
6
The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats.
7
At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall.
8
It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a meter wide.
9
The face of a man of about forty -five, with a heavy black mustache and ruggedly handsome features.
10
Winston made for the stairs.
11
It was no use trying the lift.
12
Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours.
13
It was part of the economy drive in preparation for hate week.
14
The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty -nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle,
15
went slowly, resting several times on the way.
16
On each landing, opposite the lift shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall.
17
It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move.
18
Big brother is watching you, the caption beneath it ran.
19
Inside the flat, a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures
20
which had something to do with the production of pig iron.
21
The voice came from an oblong metal plaque, like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right -hand wall.
22
Winston turned a switch, and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable.
23
The instrument, the telescreen it was called, could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely.
24
He moved over to the window,
25
a smallish, frail figure, the meagerness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party.
26
His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades,
27
and the cold of the winter that had just ended.
28
Outside, even through the shut window pane, the world looked cold.
29
Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals,
30
and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no color in anything,
31
except the posters that were plastered everywhere.
32
The black mustachioed face gazed down from every commanding corner.
33
There was one on the house front immediately opposite.
34
Big brother is watching you, the caption said while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston's own.
35
Down at street level, another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word Ingsoc.
36
In the far distance, a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, hovered for an instant like a blue bottle,
37
and darted away again with a curving flight.
38
It was the police patrol snooping into people's windows.
39
The patrols did not matter, however.
40
Only the thought police mattered.
41
Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig -iron
42
and the over -fulfillment of the ninth three -year plan.
43
The telescreen received and transmitted simultaneously.
44
Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it.
45
moreover so long as he remained within the field of vision
46
which the metal plaque commanded he could be seen as well as heard
47
there was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment how often
48
or in what system the thought police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork
49
It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time.
50
But at any rate, they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to.
51
You had to live, did live, from habit that became instinct, in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard,
52
and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized.
53
Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen.
54
It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing.
55
a kilometre away the ministry of truth his place of work towered vast
56
and white above the grimy landscape this he thought with a sort of vague distaste
57
this was london chief city of airstrip one itself the third most populous of the provinces of oceania
58
He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this.
59
Were there always these vistas of rotting 19th -century houses, their sides shored up with bulks of timber,
60
their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions?
61
And the bomb sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow herbs straggled over the heaps of rubble.
62
and the places where the bombs had cleared a large patch
63
and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken -houses but it was no use he could not remember
64
Nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright -lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible.
65
The Ministry of Truth, many true in Newspeak, was startlingly different from any other object in sight.
66
It was an enormous pyramidial structure of glittering white concrete soaring up, terrace after terrace, three hundred metres into the air.
67
From where Winston stood, it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face and elegant lettering, the three slogans of the party.
68
War is peace.
69
Freedom is slavery.
70
Ignorance is strength.
71
The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, 3 ,000 rooms above ground level and corresponding ramifications below. So.
72
Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size.
73
So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture
74
that from the roof of Victory mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously.
75
They were the homes of the four ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided.
76
The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the Fine Arts,
77
the Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war, the Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order, and the Ministry of Plenty,
78
which was responsible for economic affairs.
79
Their names in Newspeak, many true, many max, many love, and many plenty.
80
The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one.
81
There were no windows in it at all.
82
Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometer of it.
83
It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed wire entanglements,
84
steel doors, and hidden machine gun nests.
85
Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by guerrilla -faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons.
86
Winston turned round abruptly.
87
He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism, which it was advisable to wear when facing the telescreen.
88
He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen.
89
By leaving the ministry at this time of day, he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen,
90
and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark -coloured bread,
91
which had got to be saved for tomorrow's breakfast.
92
He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked Victory Gin.
93
It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice spirit.
94
Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medicine.
95
Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes.
96
The stuff was like nitric acid,
97
and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club.
98
The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful.
99
He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked
100
Victory Cigarettes and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out onto the floor.
101
With the next he was more successful.
102
He went back to the living room and sat down at a table that stood to the left of the telescreen.
103
From the table drawer he took out a penholder,
104
a bottle of ink, and a thick quattro -sized blank book with a red back and a marbled cover.
105
for some reason the telescreen in the living room was in
106
an unusual position instead of being placed as was normal in
107
the end wall where it could command the whole room it was in the longer wall opposite the window
108
to one side of it there was a shallow alcove in
109
which winston was now sitting and which
110
when the flats were built had probably been intended to hold bookshelves by sitting in the alcove
111
and keeping well back winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen so far as sight went
112
He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position, he could not be seen.
113
It was partly the unusual geography of the room
114
that had suggested to him the thing that he was now about to do.
115
But it had also been suggested by the book that he had just taken out of the drawer.
116
It was a peculiarly beautiful book.
117
Its smooth, creamy paper, a little yellowed by age, was of a kind that had not been manufactured for at least forty years past.
118
He could guess, however, that the book was much older than that.
119
He had seen it lying in the window of a frowsy little junk shop in a slummy quarter of the town,
120
just what quarter he did not now remember, and had been stricken immediately by an overwhelming desire to possess it.
121
Party members were supposed not to go into ordinary shops, dealing on the free market it was called, but the rule was not strictly kept,
122
because there were various things such as shoelaces and razor blades
123
which it was impossible to get hold of in any other way.
124
He had given a quick glance up and down the street
125
and then had slipped inside and bought the book for $2 .50.
126
At the time he was not conscious of wanting it for any particular purpose.
127
He had carried it guiltily home in his briefcase.
128
Even with nothing written in it, it was a compromising possession.
129
The thing that he was about to do was to open a diary.
130
This was not illegal.
131
Nothing was illegal, since there were no longer any laws.
132
But if detected, it was reasonably certain that it would be punished by death.
133
Or at least by twenty -five years in a forced labour camp.
134
Winston fitted a nib into the pen holder and sucked it to get the grease off.
135
The pen was an archaic instrument, seldom used even for signatures, and he had procured one furtively and with some difficulty, simply because of a feeling
136
that the beautiful creamy paper deserved to be written on with a real nib instead of being scratched with an ink pencil.
137
Actually, he was not used to writing by hand.
138
Apart from very short notes, it was usual to dictate everything into the speakwrite, which was of course impossible for his present purpose.
139
He dipped the pen into the ink and then faltered for just a second.
140
A tremor had gone through his bowels.
141
To mark the paper was the decisive act.
142
In small, clumsy letters he wrote, April 4th, 1984.
143
He sat back.
144
A sense of complete helplessness had descended upon him.
145
To begin with, he did not know with any certainty that this was 1984.
146
It must be around that date, since he was fairly sure that his age was 39,
147
and he believed that he had been born in 1944 or 1945,
148
but it was never possible nowadays to pin down any date within a year or two.
149
For whom it suddenly occurred to him to wonder was he writing this diary?
150
For the future?
151
For the unborn?
152
His mind hovered for a moment around the doubtful date on the page
153
and then fetched up with a bump against the new -speak word doublethink.
154
For the first time the magnitude of what he had undertaken came home to him.
155
How could you communicate with the future?
156
It was of its nature impossible.
157
Either the future would resemble the present, in which case it would not listen to him,
158
or it would be different from it and his predicament would be meaningless.
159
For some time he sat gazing stupidly at the paper.
160
The telescreen had changed over to strident military music.
161
It was curious that he seemed not merely to have lost the power of expressing himself,
162
but even to have forgotten what it was that he had originally intended to say.
163
For weeks past he had been making ready for this moment, and it had never crossed his mind that anything would be needed except courage.
164
The actual writing would be easy.
165
All he had to do was to transfer to paper the interminable, restless monologue that had been running inside his head literally for years.
166
At this moment, however, even the monologue had dried up.
167
Moreover, his varicose ulcer had begun itching unbearably.
168
He dared not scratch it, because if he did so, it always became inflamed.
169
The seconds were ticking by.
170
He was conscious of nothing except the blankness of the page in front of him, the itching of the skin above his ankle,
171
the blaring of the music and a slight booziness caused by the gin.
172
suddenly he began writing in sheer panic only imperfectly aware of what he was settling down his small
173
but childish handwriting straggled up and down the page shedding first its capital letters and finally even its full stops April 4th,
174
1984 Last Night to the Flicks, all war films.
175
One very good one of a ship full of refugees being bombed somewhere in the Mediterranean.
176
Audience much amused by shots of a great huge fat man trying to swim away with a helicopter after him.
177
First you saw him wallowing along the water like a porpoise.
178
Then you saw him through the helicopter's gun sights.
179
Then he was full of holes, and the sea round him turned pink,
180
and he sank as suddenly as though the holes had let in the water, audience shouting with laughter when he sank.
181
Then you saw a lifeboat full of children with a helicopter hovering over it.
182
There was a middle -aged woman, might have been a Jewess,
183
sitting up in the bow with a little boy about three years old in her arms.
184
Little boy screaming with fright and hiding his head between her breasts, as if he was trying to burrow right into her.
185
and the woman putting her arms round him
186
and comforting him although she was blue with fright herself all
187
the time covering him up as much as possible as if she thought her arms would keep the bullets off him
188
Then the helicopter planted a twenty -kilo bomb in among them.
189
Terrific flash, and the boat went all to matchwood.
190
Then there was a wonderful shot of a child's arm going up, up, up, right up into the air.
191
A helicopter with a camera in its nose must have followed it up there, and there was a lot of applause from the party seats.
192
But a woman down in the prole, part of the house, suddenly started kicking up a fuss and shouting, They didn't ought to have showed it,
193
not in front of kids.
194
They didn't.
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It ain't right.
196
Not in front of kids.
197
It ain't until the police turned her, turned her out.
198
I don't suppose anything happened to her.
199
Nobody cares what the proles say.
200
Typical prole reaction.
201
They never— Winston stopped writing.
202
Partly because he was suffering from cramp.
203
He did not know what had made him pour out this stream of rubbish.
204
But the curious thing was that while he was doing so,
205
a totally different memory had clarified itself in his mind to the point where he almost felt equal to writing it down.
206
It was, he now realized, because of this other incident, that he had suddenly decided to come home and begin the diary today.
207
It had happened that morning at the ministry, if anything so nebulous could be said to happen.
208
It was nearly eleven hundred, and in the records department where Winston worked,
209
they were dragging the chairs out of the cubicles and grouping them in the centre of the hall,
210
opposite the big telescreen, in preparation for the two minutes' hate.
211
Winston was just taking his place in one of the middle rows when two people whom he knew by sight, but had never spoken to,
212
came unexpectedly into the room.
213
One of them was a girl whom he often passed in the corridors.
214
He did not know her name, but he knew that she worked in the fiction department.
215
Presumably, since he had sometimes seen her with oily hands and carrying a spanner, she had some mechanical job on one of the novel writing machines.
216
She was a bold -looking girl, of about twenty -seven, with thick dark hair, a freckled face, and swift athletic movements.
217
A narrow scarlet sash emblem of the junior anti -sex league was wound several times round the waist of her overalls,
218
just tightly enough to bring out the shapeliness of her hips.
219
Winston had disliked her from the very moment of seeing her.
220
He knew the reason.
221
It was because of the atmosphere of hockey fields and cold baths
222
and community hikes and general clean -mindedness which she managed to carry about with her.
223
He disliked nearly all women, and especially the young and pretty ones.
224
It was always the women, and above all the young ones, who were the most bigoted adherents of the party, the swallowers of the slogans,
225
the amateur spies and nosers out of unorthodoxy.
226
But this particular girl gave him the impression of being more dangerous than most.
227
Once when they passed in the corridor, she had given him a quick sidelong glance which seemed to pierce right into him,
228
and for a moment had filled him with black terror.
229
The idea had even crossed his mind that she might be an agent of the thought police.
230
That, it was true, was very unlikely.
231
Still, he continued to feel a peculiar uneasiness, which had fear mixed up in it as well as hostility, whenever she was anywhere near him.
232
The other person was a man named O 'Brien, a member of the inner party and holder of some post
233
so important and remote that Winston had only a dim idea of its nature.
234
A momentary hush passed over the group of people round the
235
chairs as they saw the black overalls of an inner party member approaching.
236
O 'Brien was a large, burly man with a thick neck and coarse, humorous, brutal face.
237
In spite of his formidable appearance, he had a certain charm of manner.
238
He had a trick of resettling his spectacles on his nose, which was curiously disarming, in some indefinable way, curiously civilized.
239
It was a gesture which, if anyone had still thought in such terms, might have recalled an eighteenth -century nobleman offering his snuff -box.
240
Winston had seen O 'Brien perhaps a dozen times in almost as many years.
241
He felt deeply drawn to him, and not solely because he was intrigued by the contrast between O 'Brien's urbane manner and his prize -fighter's physique.
242
Much more, it was because of a secretly held belief—or perhaps not even a belief, merely hope, that O 'Brien's political orthodoxy was not perfect.
243
Something in his face suggested it irresistibly.
244
And again, perhaps it was not even unorthodoxy that was written on his face, but simply intelligence.
245
But at any rate, he had the appearance of being a person
246
that you could talk to if somehow you could cheat the telescreen and get him alone.
247
Winston had never made the smallest effort to verify this guess.
248
Indeed, there was no way of doing so.
249
At this moment O 'Brien glanced at his wristwatch, saw that it was nearly eleven hundred,
250
and evidently decided to stay in the records department until the two minutes' hate was over.
251
He took a chair in the same row as Winston, a couple of places away.
252
A small sandy -haired woman who worked in the next cubicle to Winston was between them.
253
The girl with dark hair was sitting immediately behind.
254
The next moment a hideous, grinding speech, as of some monstrous machine running without oil, burst from the big telescreen at the end of the room.
255
It was a noise that set one's teeth on edge, and bristled the hair at the back of one's neck.
256
The hate had started.
257
As usual, the face of Emmanuel Goldstein, the enemy of the people, had flashed onto the screen.
258
There were hisses here and there among the audience.
259
The little sandy -haired woman gave a squeak of mingled fear and disgust.
260
Goldstein was the renegade and backslider who once long ago—how long ago, nobody quite remembered—had been one of the leading figures of the party,
261
almost on a level with Big Brother himself, and then had engaged in counter -revolutionary activities, had been condemned to death,
262
and had mysteriously escaped and disappeared.
263
The programs of the Two Minutes Hate varied from day to day, but there was none in which Goldstein was not the principal figure.
264
He was the primal traitor, the earliest defiler of the party's purity.
265
All subsequent crimes against the party, all treacheries, acts of sabotage, heresies, deviations, sprang directly out of his teaching.
266
Somewhere or other he was still alive and hatching his conspiracies—perhaps somewhere beyond the sea,
267
under the protection of his foreign paymasters—perhaps even, so it was occasionally rumoured, in some hiding place in Oceania itself.
268
Winston's diaphragm was constricted.
269
He could never see the face of Goldstein without a painful mixture of emotions.
270
It was a lean
271
Jewish face, with a great fuzzy aureole of white hair and a small goatee beard.
272
A clever face, and yet somehow inherently despicable,
273
with a kind of senile silliness in the long thin nose near the end of which a pair of spectacles was perched.
274
It resembled the face of a sheep, and the voice, too, had a sheep -like quality.
275
Goldstein was delivering his usual venomous attacks on the doctrines of the party,
276
an attack so exaggerated and perverse that a child should have been able to see through it,
277
and yet just plausible enough to fill one with an alarmed feeling that other people, less level -headed than oneself, might be taken in by it.
278
He was abusing Big Brother.
279
He was denouncing the dictatorship of the party.
280
He was demanding the immediate conclusion of peace with eurasia
281
he was advocating freedom of speech freedom of the press freedom of assembly freedom of thought he was crying hysterically
282
that the revolution had been betrayed
283
and all this in rapid polysyllabic speech
284
which was a sort of parody of the habitual style of the orators of the party
285
and even contained newspeak words more newspeak words indeed than any party member would normally use in real life
286
and all the while lest one should be in any doubt as to the reality
287
which goldstein's spacious claptrap covered behind his head on the telescreen
288
there marched the endless columns of the eurasian army row after
289
row of solid -looking men with expressionless asiatic faces who swam up to the surface of the screen
290
and vanished to be replaced by others exactly similar the dull
291
rhythmic tramp of the soldiers boots formed the back ground to Goldstein's bleeding voice.
292
Before the hate had proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room.
293
The self -satisfied sheep -like face on the screen
294
and the terrifying power of the Eurasian army behind it were too much to be borne.
295
Besides, the sight or even the thought of Goldstein produced fear and anger automatically.
296
He was an object of hatred more constant than either Eurasia or East Asia,
297
since when Oceania was at war with one of these powers it was generally at peace with the other.
298
But what was strange was that although Goldstein was hated and despised by everybody, although every day and a thousand times a day,
299
on platforms, on telescreen, in newspapers, in books, his theories were refuted,
300
smashed, ridiculed, held up to the general gaze for the pitiful rubbish that they were, in spite of all this,
301
his influence never seemed to grow less.
302
Always there were fresh dupes waiting to be seduced by him.
303
A day never passed when spies and saboteurs acting under his directions were not unmasked by the thought police.
304
He was the commander of a vast shadowy army, an underground network of conspirators dedicated to the overthrow of the state.
305
The Brotherhood, its name was supposed to be.
306
There were also whispered stories of a terrible book, a compendium of all the heresies of which Goldstein was the author,
307
and which circulated clandestinely here and there.
308
It was a book without a title.
309
People referred to it, if at all, simply as the book.
310
But one knew of such things only through vague rumors.
311
Neither the Brotherhood nor the book was a subject
312
that any ordinary party member would mention if there was a way of avoiding it.
313
In its second minute the hate rose to a frenzy.
314
People were leaping up and down in their places
315
and shouting at the tops of their voices in an effort to drown the maddening, bleeding voice that came from the screen.
316
The little sandy -haired woman had turned bright pink, and her mouth was opening and shutting like that of a landed fish.
317
Even O 'Brien's heavy face was flushed.
318
He was sitting very straight in his chair, his powerful chest swelling and quivering as though he were standing up to the assault of a wave.
319
The dark -haired girl behind Winston had begun crying out, Swine!
320
Swine!
321
Swine!
322
And suddenly she picked up a heavy Newspeak dictionary and flung it at the screen.
323
It struck Goldstein's nose and bounced off.
324
The voice continued inexorably.
325
In a lucid moment, Winston found that he was shouting with the others
326
and kicking his heel violently against the rung of his chair.
327
The horrible thing about the two minutes' hate was not that one was obliged to act a part,
328
but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in.
329
Within thirty seconds any pretense was always unnecessary.
330
A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledgehammer.
331
seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an
332
electric current turning one even against one's will into a grimacing screaming lunatic
333
and yet the rage that one felt was an abstract undirected emotion
334
which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blow -lamp
335
Thus, at one moment, Winston's hatred was not turned against Goldstein at all, but on the contrary against
336
Big Brother, the party, and the thought police.
337
And at such moments his heart went out to the lonely, derided heretic on the street,
338
sole guardian of truth and sanity in a world of lies.
339
And yet the very next instant he was at one with the people about him,
340
and all that was said of Goldstein seemed to him to be true.
341
At those moments his secret loathing of Big Brother changed into adoration, and Big Brother seemed to tower up an invincible,
342
fearless protector, standing like a rock against the hordes of Asia, and Goldstein, in spite of his isolation,
343
his helplessness and the doubt that hung about his very existence, seemed like some sinister enchanter,
344
capable by the mere power of his voice of wrecking the structure of civilization.
345
It was even possible at moments to switch one's hatred this way or that by a voluntary act.
346
Suddenly, by the sort of violent effort with which one wrenches one's head away from the pillow in a nightmare,
347
Winston succeeded in transferring his hatred from the face on the screen to the dark -haired girl behind him.
348
Vivid, beautiful hallucinations flashed through his mind.
349
He would flog her to death with a rubber truncheon he would tie her naked to a stake
350
and shoot her full of arrows like saint sebastian he would ravish her
351
and cut her throat at the moment of climax better than before moreover he realized why it was
352
that he hated her he hated her because she was young and pretty and sexless
353
because he wanted to go to bed with her
354
and would never do so because round her sweet supple waist
355
which seemed to ask you to encircle it with your arm there was only the odious scarlet sash aggressive symbol of chastity
356
The hate rose to its climax.
357
The voice of Goldstein had become an actual sheep's bleat, and for an instant the face changed into that of a sheep.
358
Then the sheep face melted into the figure of a Eurasian soldier, who seemed to be advancing, huge and terrible, his submachine gun roaring,
359
and seeming to spring out of the surface of the screen,
360
so that some of the people in the front row actually flinched backwards in their seats.
361
But in the same moment, drawing a deep sigh of relief from everybody, the hostile figure melted into the face of Big Brother,
362
black -haired, black -mustachioed, full of power and mysterious calm, and so vast that it almost filled up the screen.
363
Nobody heard what
364
Big Brother was saying.
365
It was merely a few words of encouragement, the sort of words that are uttered in the din of battle,
366
not distinguishable individually, but restoring confidence by the fact of being spoken.
367
Then the face of Big Brother faded away, and instead the three slogans of the party stood out in bold capitals.
368
War is peace.
369
Freedom is slavery.
370
Ignorance is strength.
371
But the face of Big Brother seemed to persist for several seconds on the screen,
372
as though the impact that it had made on everyone's eyeballs was too vivid to wear off immediately.
373
The little sand -haired woman had flung herself forward over the back of the chair in front of her.
374
With a tremulous murmur that sounded like, My Savior, she extended her arms towards the screen.
375
Then she buried her face into her hands.
376
It was apparent that she was uttering a prayer.
377
At this moment, the entire group of people broke into a deep, slow, rhythmic chant of B,
378
B, B, B, B, B,
379
B, over and over again, very slowly, with a long pause between the first B and the second.
380
A heavy, murmurous sound, somehow curiously savage in the background of
381
which one seemed to hear the stamp of naked feet and the throbbing of tom -toms.
382
For perhaps as much as thirty seconds they kept it up.
383
It was a refrain that was often heard in moments of overwhelming emotion.
384
Partly it was a sort of hymn to the wisdom and majesty of Big Brother, but still more it was an act of self -hypnosis,
385
a deliberate drowning of consciousness by means of rhythmic noise.
386
Winston's entrails seemed to grow cold.
387
In the two minutes' hate, he could not help sharing in the general delirium,
388
but this subhuman chanting of BEE!
389
BEE!
390
BEE!
391
BEE!
392
always filled him with horror.
393
Of course he chanted with the rest.
394
It was impossible to do otherwise eyes.
395
To dissemble your feelings, to control your face, to do what everyone else was doing, was an instinctive reaction.
396
But there was a space of a couple of seconds during which the expression in his eyes might conceivably have betrayed him,
397
and it was exactly at this moment that the significant thing happened.
398
If indeed it did happen.
399
Momentarily he caught O 'Brien's eye.
400
O 'Brien had stood up.
401
He had taken off his spectacles and was in the act of resettling them on his nose with his characteristic gesture.
402
But there was a fraction of a second where their eyes met, and for as long as it took to happen Winston knew,
403
yes, he knew, that O 'Brien was thinking the same thing as himself.
404
An unmistakable message had passed.
405
It was as though their two minds had opened and the thoughts were flowing from one into the other through their eyes.
406
I am with you, O 'Brien seemed to be saying to him.
407
I know precisely what you are feeling.
408
I know all about your contempt, your hatred, your disgust.
409
But don't worry, I am on your side.
410
And then the flash of intelligence was gone, and O 'Brien's face was as inscrutable as everybody else's.
411
That was all, and he was already uncertain whether it had happened.
412
Such incidents never had any sequel.
413
All that they did was to keep alive in him the belief, or hope, that others besides himself were the enemies of the party.
414
Perhaps the rumors of vast underground conspiracies were true after all.
415
Perhaps the Brotherhood really existed.
416
It was impossible, in spite of the endless arrests and confessions and executions, to be sure that the Brotherhood was not simply a myth.
417
Some days he believed in it, some days not.
418
There was no evidence, only fleeting glimpses that might mean anything or nothing.
419
Snatches of overheard conversations, faint scribbles on laboratory walls.
420
Once, even when two strangers met, a small movement of the hand, which had looked as though it might be a signal of recognition.
421
It was all guesswork.
422
Very likely he had imagined everything.
423
He'd gone back to his cubicle without looking at O 'Brien again.
424
The idea of following up their momentary contact hardly crossed his mind.
425
It would have been inconceivably dangerous, even if he had known how to set about doing it.
426
For a second, two seconds, they had exchanged an equivocal glance, and that was the end of the story.
427
But even that was a memorable event in the locked loneliness in which one had to live.
428
Winston roused himself and sat up straighter.
429
He let out a belch.
430
The gin was rising from his stomach.
431
His eyes refocused on the page.
432
He discovered that while he sat helplessly musing, he had also been writing, as though by automatic action.
433
And it was no longer the same cramped, awkward handwriting as before.
434
His pen had slid voluptuously over the smooth paper, printing in large, neat capitals.
435
Down with Big Brother.
436
Down with Big Brother.
437
Down with Big Brother.
438
Down with Big Brother.
439
Down with Big Brother.
440
Over and over again, filling half a page.
441
He could not help feeling a twinge of panic.
442
It was absurd, since the writing of those particular words was not more dangerous than the initial act of opening the diary.
443
But for a moment he was tempted to tear out the spoiled pages and abandon the enterprise altogether.
444
He did not do so, however, because he knew that it was useless.
445
Whether he wrote down with Big Brother, or whether he refrained from writing, it made no difference.
446
Whether he went on with the diary, or whether he did not go on with it, made no difference.
447
The thought police would get him just the same.
448
He had committed, would still have committed even if he had never set pen to paper, the essential crime that contained all others in itself.
449
Thought crime, they called it.
450
Thought crime was not a thing that could be concealed forever.
451
You might dodge successfully for a while, even for years, but sooner or later they were bound to get you.
452
It was always at night.
453
The arrests invariably happened at night.
454
The sudden jerk out of sleep, the rough hand shaking your shoulder, the lights glaring in your eyes, the ring of hard faces round your bed.
455
In the vast majority of cases, there was no trial, no report of the arrest.
456
People simply disappeared, always during the night.
457
Your name was removed from the registers, every record of everything you had ever done was wiped out,
458
your one -time existence was denied and then forgotten.
459
You were abolished, annihilated.
460
Vaporized was the usual word.
461
For a moment he was seized by a kind of hysteria.
462
He began writing in a hurried, untidy scrawl.
463
They'll shoot me.
464
I don't care.
465
They'll shoot me in the back of the neck.
466
I don't care.
467
Down with big brother.
468
They always shoot you in the back of the neck.
469
I don't care.
470
Down with big brother.
471
He sat back in his chair, slightly ashamed of himself, and laid down the pen.
472
The next moment he stared violently.
473
There was a knocking at the door.
474
Already?
475
He sat as still as a mouse in the futile hope that whoever it was might go away after a single attempt.
476
But no, the knocking was repeated.
477
The worst thing of all would be delay.
478
His heart was thumping like a drum, but his face from long habit was probably expressionless.
479
He got up and moved heavily towards the door.
Uygulamayı İndir
Akıcı konuşmak için ihtiyacınız olan her şey
AI TelaffuzHer cümleyi puanla
IPA AlıştırmasıHer sesi ustalaştır
Kelime BilgisiKelime bankanızı oluşturun
Kelime OyunuOynarken öğrenin
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Bu dersin kelimeleri ve konuşma notları
Bu konuşma dersi “1984 Audiobook – Part 1, Chapter 1” videosuna dayanıyor. Bu videoda gölgeleme çalışması için 479 cümle ve 6323 kelime var. Konuşma bölümü 39:03 sürüyor. Konuşmacı dakikada yaklaşık 162 kelimeyle, günlük konuşmaya yakın doğal bir hızda konuşuyor. Kelimelerin yalnızca %79’i İngilizcede en sık kullanılan 3.000 kelime arasında, bu yüzden kelime dağarcığı zorlayıcı.
Bu videodaki önemli kelimeler
Videodan öğrenmeye değer 15 kelime, telaffuzu ve anlamıyla:
| Kelime | Telaffuz | Anlam |
|---|---|---|
| vast sıfat | /væst/ | dev, engin |
| sheep isim | /ˈʃiːp/ | koyun |
| helicopter isim | /ˈheliːˌkɔptə(ɹ)/ | helikopter |
| diary isim | /ˈdaɪ.ə.ɹi/ | günlük, ruzname |
| hatred isim | /ˈheɪtɹɪd/ | nefret, iğrenti |
| merely zarf | /ˈmɪəli/ | sadece, yalnızca |
| moreover zarf | /mɔːˈɹəʊ.və/ | buna ilaveten, dahası |
| shout fiil | /ʃaʊt/ | bağırmak, haykırmak |
| spite isim | /spaɪt/ | kin, garez |
| thick sıfat | /θɪk/ | kalın |
| wire isim | /ˈwaɪɚ/ | tel |
| dust isim | /dʌst/ | toz |
| tear fiil | /tɛɹ/ | kırmak |
| instant isim | /ˈɪnstənt/ | an |
| enormous sıfat | /ɪˈnɔː.məs/ | kocaman |
Duyacağınız deyimsel fiiller
| Kelime | Telaffuz | Anlam |
|---|---|---|
| die down fiil | yatışmak | |
| dry up fiil | kurumak | |
| get up fiil | kalkmak | |
| give off fiil | /ɡɪv ɒf/ | yaymak, saçmak |
Tekrar etmeye değer cümleler
Videodan, günlük konuşmada yeniden kullanabileceğiniz kısa ve tam cümleler:
- How could you communicate with the future?
- I don't suppose anything happened to her.
- They'll shoot me in the back of the neck.
Bu videodaki dil bilgisi
Konuşmacının en çok kullandığı yapılar, videodaki sözcüklerin aynısıyla:
| Yapı | Videoda |
|---|---|
| Edilgen yapı be + fiilin üçüncü hâli — kimin yaptığı değil, ne olduğu önemli | had been tacked · was cut · was called |
| İlgi cümlecikleri who / which + cümle — bir kişi ya da şey hakkında ek bilgi | pictures which are · overalls which were · speakwrite, which was |
Dikkat edilecek telaffuzlar
Konuşmacı don't, ain't, didn't gibi kısaltılmış biçimleri 12 kez kullanıyor. Bunları duyduğunuz gibi kısa söyleyin.
- “th” sesleri: thirty /ˈθɝti/, thick /θɪk/, smooth /smuːð/, thin /ˈθɪn/, rhythmic /ˈɹɪð.mɪk/
- “sh” ve “zh” sesleri: sheep /ˈʃiːp/, flash /flæʃ/, shout /ʃaʊt/, emotion /ɪˈməʊ.ʃən/, unusual /ʌnˈjuːʒ(u)əl/
- Uzun kelimeler — vurguyu doğru yere koyun: helicopter /ˈheliːˌkɔptə(ɹ)/, unusual /ʌnˈjuːʒ(u)əl/, ordinary /ˈɔɹdɪnɛɹi/, preparation /ˌpɹɛpəˈɹeɪʃ(ə)n/, conspiracy /kənˈspɪɹəsi/
Türkçe konuşanların zorlandığı sesler:
- /w/ — dudaklar yuvarlak, /v/ değil: wire /ˈwaɪɚ/, waist /weɪst/, liquid /ˈlɪk.wɪd/, subsequent /ˈsʌbsɪkwənt/, distinguishable [dɪˈstɪŋ.ɡwɪ.ʃə.bl̩]
- Kelime başındaki ünsüz kümesi — araya ünlü eklemeyin: flash /flæʃ/, spite /spaɪt/, glance /ɡlæns/, slogan /ˈsloʊɡən/, scarlet /ˈskɑɹlɪt/
- /æ/ — “e”den daha açık: vast /væst/, flash /flæʃ/, sandy /ˈsændi/, glance /ɡlæns/, panic /ˈpænɪk/
Bu videoyla nasıl çalışılır
- Videonun tamamını konuşmadan bir kez dinleyin ve bilmediğiniz kelimeleri not edin.
- 0,75× hızla başlayın, cümle cümle tekrar edin ve kolaylaşınca normal hıza dönün.
- Kendinizi kaydedin ve orijinaliyle karşılaştırın; vast, sheep, helicopter gibi kelimelere özellikle dikkat edin.
Gölgeleme Tekniği Nedir?
Gölgeleme, başlangıçta profesyonel tercüman eğitimi için geliştirilen ve çok dilli Dr. Alexander Arguelles tarafından popüler hale getirilen, bilim destekli bir dil öğrenme tekniğidir. Yöntem basit ama güçlüdür: ana dili İngilizce olan bir sesi dinler ve hemen yüksek sesle tekrar edersiniz — konuşmacıyı 1-2 saniye gecikmeyle takip eden bir gölge gibi. Pasif dinleme veya dilbilgisi alıştırmalarının aksine, gölgeleme beyninizi ve ağız kaslarınızı gerçek konuşma kalıplarını eşzamanlı olarak işlemeye ve yeniden üretmeye zorlar. Araştırmalar, telaffuz doğruluğu, tonlama, ritim, bağlı konuşma, dinleme anlama ve konuşma akıcılığını önemli ölçüde geliştirdiğini göstermektedir — bu da onu IELTS Konuşma hazırlığı ve gerçek dünya İngilizce iletişimi için en etkili yöntemlerden biri yapar.