1984 - Un-Person
Entry posted by PaternosterRow
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Battle of Britain Class pulls in to the station. Winston knew it was an InterCity (INCIT in Newspeak) and was reserved for upper party officials only. Passes to travel to other cities for outer party members were rare indeed. Only the upper party and proles could freely use these trains.
I've included another shot of the Prole area showing an armoured car this time. This is an Airfix model and I made the very same kit 35 years ago would you believe. They say that there's no continuity to our lives and that it's a forever changing landscape, but this little kit took me right back to where my love for modelling began. Thank you, Airfix!
And Finally
As Winston had approached the station entrance from under the bridge he had spotted Syme talking to two guard officers. Despite his nervousness he’d managed to carry on walking straight toward them in a nonchalant manner; an evasive trick he’d subconsciously developed over the years. As expected, the guards had wanted to know what he had been doing in the restricted Prole area, but Winston had already got his story straight by the time he’d reached them. He’d simply said that he’d been looking for razor blades; a perfectly reasonable excuse given that there was a shortage at the moment. After an awkward moment of silence they had even asked him if he’d found any and if he had any spare to give away. Winston replied that he had found none, excused himself and carried on walking to the station after they had checked his permit papers.
Syme also worked at the Ministry of Truth but in the Research Department. Whilst he could hardly be called a friend, he and Winston often lunched together in the canteen. Just yesterday, over a mug of that awful Victory Gin, Syme began expressing his delight over the destruction of words as usual. He was a philologist, an expert in Newspeak and was working on the eleventh edition of the Newspeak Dictionary. The man was a fanatic and had those piercing eyes that constantly searched your face for the slightest sign of heresy. If he’d have had the slightest inkling of Winton’s thought crimes he’d have reported him in an instant.
Before Winston walked into the station entrance he glanced back at Syme. He was still talking in that animated, over enthusiastic fashion. Probably even telling the guards how important his work was and that when he and his department had destroyed the last adjective it would be impossible for any person to commit thought crime in the future. The absence of adjectives coupled with contracted nouns and verbs would prevent free thought according to the current political philosophy. In Winston’s mind this was impossible for how do you destroy a person’s memory?
Winston found himself pitying Syme as walked up toward platform level. The man was dead. He was destined to become an un-person just like Winston, it was only a matter of time. The Party hated his type; he simply knew too much and was too much of an open talker given the opportunity. They wanted dumb followers, not intelligent lecturers. Winston pulled up his collar and hunched his shoulders forward against a chilling thought; another purge would be imminent after the release of the eleventh Dictionary. It was certain; the only way to destroy words and the free thought they inspired was to physically destroy the minds that contained any memory of them.
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