Joe[_3_]
December 25th 07, 06:28 PM
immediately by an overwhelming desire to
possess it. 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, because there were various things, such as shoelaces and
razor blades, which it was impossible to get hold of in any other way. He
had given a quick glance up and down the street and then had slipped inside
and bought the book for two dollars fifty. At the time he was not conscious
of wanting it for any particular purpose. He had carried it guiltily home
in his briefcase. Even with nothing written in it, it was a compromising
possession.
The thing that he was about to do was to open a diary. This was not
illegal (nothing was illegal, since there were no longer any laws), but if
detected it was reasonably certain that it would be punished by death, or
at least by twenty-five years in a forced-labour camp. Winston fitted a nib
into the penholder and sucked it to get the grease off. 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 that
the beautiful creamy paper deserved to be written on with a real nib
instead of being scratched with an ink-pencil. Actually he was not used to
writing by hand. Apart from very short notes, it was usual to dictate
everything into the speak-write which was of course impossible for his
present purpose. He dipped the pen into the ink and then faltered f
possess it. 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, because there were various things, such as shoelaces and
razor blades, which it was impossible to get hold of in any other way. He
had given a quick glance up and down the street and then had slipped inside
and bought the book for two dollars fifty. At the time he was not conscious
of wanting it for any particular purpose. He had carried it guiltily home
in his briefcase. Even with nothing written in it, it was a compromising
possession.
The thing that he was about to do was to open a diary. This was not
illegal (nothing was illegal, since there were no longer any laws), but if
detected it was reasonably certain that it would be punished by death, or
at least by twenty-five years in a forced-labour camp. Winston fitted a nib
into the penholder and sucked it to get the grease off. 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 that
the beautiful creamy paper deserved to be written on with a real nib
instead of being scratched with an ink-pencil. Actually he was not used to
writing by hand. Apart from very short notes, it was usual to dictate
everything into the speak-write which was of course impossible for his
present purpose. He dipped the pen into the ink and then faltered f