1984

           Thenextmomentahideous,grindingspeech, asofsomemonstrousmachinerunningwithoutoil,burstfromthebigtelescreenattheendoftheroom. Itwasanoisethatsetone’steethonedgeandbristledthehairatthebackofone’sneck. TheHatehadstarted. 

           Asusual,thefaceofEmmanuelGoldstein,theEnemyofthePeople,hadflashedontothescreen. Therewerehisseshereandthereamongtheaudience. Thelittlesandy-hairedwomangaveasqueakofmingledfearanddisgust. Goldsteinwastherenegadeandbacksliderwhoonce,longago (howlongago,nobodyquiteremembered), hadbeenoneoftheleadingfiguresoftheParty,almostonalevelwithBigBrotherhimself, andthenhadengagedincounterrevolutionaryactivities,hadbeencondemnedtodeath,andhadmysteriouslyescapedanddisappeared. TheprogrammesoftheTwoMinutesHatevariedfromdaytoday, buttherewasnoneinwhichGoldsteinwasnottheprincipalfigure. Hewastheprimaltraitor,theearliestdefileroftheParty’spurity. AllsubsequentcrimesagainsttheParty,alltreacheries,actsofsabotage,heresies,deviations,sprangdirectlyoutofhisteaching. Somewhereorotherhewasstillaliveandhatchinghisconspiracies:perhapssomewherebeyondthesea,undertheprotectionofhisforeignpaymasters, perhapseven—soitwasoccasionallyrumoured—insomehiding-placeinOceaniaitself. 

           Winston’sdiaphragmwasconstricted. HecouldneverseethefaceofGoldsteinwithoutapainfulmixtureofemotions.ItwasaleanJewishface,withagreatfuzzyaureoleofwhitehairandasmallgoateebeard —acleverface,andyetsomehowinherentlydespicable, withakindofsenilesillinessinthelongthinnose,neartheendofwhichapairofspectacleswasperched.