Tuesday, April 01, 2008


The Hate rose to its climax. The voice of Goldstein had become an actual sheep's bleat, and for an instant the face changed into that of a sheep. Then the sheep-face melted into the figure of a Eurasian soldier who seemed to be advancing, huge and terrible, his sub-machine gun roaring, and seeming to spring out from the surface of the screen, so that some of the people in the front row actually flinched backwards in their seats. But in the same moment, drawing a deep sigh of relief from everybody, the hostile figure melted into the face of Big Brother ...

As the ministry staff filed out of the room to return to their work, there was a murmur of discussion of the artistic merits of the day's hate. Syme, who was working on the Eleventh Edition of the Newspeak Dictionary declared that he found the mise-en-scene in the opening sequence particularly effective. Winston winced at the term mise-en-scene. It wasn't just OldSpeak, it was the affected Bourgeois dialect of Oldspeak, another indication that Syme with his careless enthusiasms was headed for vaporisation. Parsons loudly declared that anyone who wasn't moved by the sheer technical brilliance of today's Hate was obviously a traitor to Ingsoc - a stock opinion that he repeated every day. He glared around looking for signs of treason but every face upon which his glance fell showed the same enthusiastic approbation of today's film.

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