Chapter 9

           Winstonwasgelatinouswithfatigue. Gelatinouswastherightword. Ithadcomeintohisheadspontaneously. Hisbodyseemedtohavenotonlytheweaknessofajelly,butitstranslucency. Hefeltthatifhehelduphishandhewouldbeabletoseethelightthroughit. Allthebloodandlymphhadbeendrainedoutofhimbyanenormousdebauchofwork,leavingonlyafrailstructureofnerves,bones,andskin. Allsensationsseemedtobemagnified. Hisoverallsfrettedhisshoulders,thepavementtickledhisfeet,eventheopeningandclosingofahandwasaneffortthatmadehisjointscreak. 

           Hehadworkedmorethanninetyhoursinfivedays.SohadeveryoneelseintheMinistry. Nowitwasallover,andhehadliterallynothingtodo,noPartyworkofanydescription,untiltomorrowmorning. Hecouldspendsixhoursinthehiding-placeandanothernineinhisownbed. Slowly,inmildafternoonsunshine,hewalkedupadingystreetinthedirectionofMrCharrington’sshop, keepingoneeyeopenforthepatrols,butirrationallyconvincedthatthisafternoontherewasnodangerofanyoneinterferingwithhim. Theheavybrief-casethathewascarryingbumpedagainsthiskneeateachstep,sendingatinglingsensationupanddowntheskinofhisleg. Insideitwasthebook,whichhehadnowhadinhispossessionforsixdaysandhadnotyetopened,norevenlookedat. 

           OnthesixthdayofHateWeek,aftertheprocessions,thespeeches,theshouting,thesinging,thebanners,theposters,thefilms,thewaxworks,therollingofdrumsandsquealingoftrumpets, thetrampofmarchingfeet,thegrindingofthecaterpillarsoftanks,theroarofmassedplanes,theboomingofguns—aftersixdaysofthis,