1984

           ‘Byitself,’hesaid,‘painisnotalwaysenough. Thereareoccasionswhenahumanbeingwillstandoutagainstpain,eventothepointofdeath. Butforeveryonethereissomethingunendurable—somethingthatcannotbecontemplated. Courageandcowardicearenotinvolved. Ifyouarefallingfromaheightitisnotcowardlytoclutchatarope. Ifyouhavecomeupfromdeepwateritisnotcowardlytofillyourlungswithair. Itismerelyaninstinctwhichcannotbedestroyed. Itisthesamewiththerats. Foryou,theyareunendurable. Theyareaformofpressurethatyoucannotwithstand,evenifyouwishedto. Youwilldowhatisrequiredofyou.’ 

           ‘Butwhatisit,whatisit? HowcanIdoitifIdon’tknowwhatitis?’ 

           O’Brienpickedupthecageandbroughtitacrosstothenearertable. Hesetitdowncarefullyonthebaizecloth. Winstoncouldhearthebloodsinginginhisears. Hehadthefeelingofsittinginutterloneliness. Hewasinthemiddleofagreatemptyplain,aflatdesertdrenchedwithsunlight,acrosswhichallsoundscametohimoutofimmensedistances. Yetthecagewiththeratswasnottwometresawayfromhim. Theywereenormousrats. Theywereattheagewhenarat’smuzzlegrowsbluntandfierceandhisfurbrowninsteadofgrey. 

           ‘Therat,’saidO’Brien,stilladdressinghisinvisibleaudience,‘althougharodent,iscarnivorous. Youareawareofthat. Youwillhaveheardofthethingsthathappeninthepoorquartersofthistown. Insomestreetsawomandarenotleaveherbabyaloneinthehouse,evenforfiveminutes.Theratsarecertaintoattackit. Withinquiteasmalltimetheywillstripittothebones. Theyalsoattacksickordyingpeople. Theyshowastonishingintelligenceinknowingwhenahumanbeingishelpless.’