{"id":1394064,"date":"2016-10-21T10:04:30","date_gmt":"2016-10-21T14:04:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.sparknotes.com\/?p=1394064"},"modified":"2022-04-13T17:25:58","modified_gmt":"2022-04-13T21:25:58","slug":"blogging-1984-x-part-3-chapters-1-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"\/blog\/blogging-1984-x-part-3-chapters-1-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Blogging 1984: X (Part 3, Chapters 1 & 2)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Previously in Blogging 1984<\/a>, Julia and Winston were busted by the Thought Police and a Very Important Motif met its demise on the floor of Mr. Charrington’s shop.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

1<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Winston is in a holding cell at the Ministry of Love. Ordinary prisoners\u2014your Proles\u2014are as rambunctious as ever, quarreling, throwing up, pulling hidden morsels of food out of their clothing, and being all “help me, I’m poor,” while the political prisoners, or \u201cpolits,\u201d are given a little less leeway by the guards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In amongst hankering for a crumpet, Winston learns about labor camps and the ominous-sounding \u201croom one-oh-one\u201d from Prole chatter. (*makes note<\/em>*) He spends more time thinking about O’Brien than Julia (\u201cHe felt no love for her\u201d), and boy<\/em> is Orwell making it hard for me to ship this couple. Winston can’t be sure of what time or day it is, for there are no windows and the lights are always on (*ding ding<\/em>* \u201cThe place where there is no darkness\u201d). He wonders if O’Brien will find a way to slip him a razor blade\u2014or if he could even summon the confetti to use a Mach 3 if he got one (verdict: probably not).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon enough, who should join Winston in the cell but Ampleforth! Oceania’s poet laureate is in the slammer for failing to remove a reference to God from a Kipling poem (reason: nothing else rhymed with \u201crod\u201d; I’ve been there). In short order, Ampleforth is marched off to Room 101.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Next up is Parsons, of the jockstrap and terrible children, who was tipped off to the patrols for Thought Crime by his daughter for yelling out in his sleep, \u201cDown with Big Brother!\u201d Like Ampleforth, Parsons concedes he is guilty, guilty!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a pre-emptive apology and some stomach gurgles, Parsons \u201cplumped his large posteriors onto the lavatory pan. Winston covered his face with his hands.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is so far the worst thing to happen in the Ministry of Love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Parsons is removed and we get a skeletal man who looks more human than a broom, but less human than C-3PO. He has been reduced to a grisly grey frame, and after a prisoner offers him a nibble of bread, the guards beat him further, then hoist him off to Room 101. \u201cNot room 101!\u201d He cries. [Exeunt Ghost of Room 101s Future<\/em>]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[Diversion to talk for a minute about the cosmic importance of latrines]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not to overthink the woman who almost barfs on Winston, or Parsons and his regrettable donation to the latrine, but the Proles\u2014untouched as they are by philosophical quandaries and undue knowledge\u2014are walking vats of filth; untidy bodies that disgust and repel, literally overflowing with the accoutrements of humanity (lipids, bile, blood). In contrast, the Party prisoners like Skeletor (above), Inner Party members, and Party members who have managed to subdue their animal impulses are sexless, wraithlike, transcendent in their mastery of Doublethink. Somewhere in between these two visions of humanity is the [regrettable] koan from Ernest Brecker that \u201cwe are gods with anuses.\u201d (Sorry.) The point is that humans are nasty, rotting mortals, but our consciousness drives us to seek immortality. In O’Brien’s case, this is achieved by subverting the individual against the Party. The Party, he assures us, will live forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[End latrine diversion]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally (I mean after several more pages of time ticking by and Winston ruminating on how hungry he is), O’Brien enters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Winston, not quite getting it, exclaims, \u201cThey’ve got you too!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey got me a long time ago,\u201d O’Brien says like a sad, cartoon villain who is dolefully winding dynamite sticks around a rock and then reeling out the fuse. Then he tells Winston that, c’monnnn<\/em>, he knew all along that this was coming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Come to think of it, there *were* several red flags around O’Brien, the most notable of which was:<\/p>\n\n\n\n