Orwell's Revenge (46 page)

Cooperation can be by consent:
Cf. “Review,
The Unquiet Grave: A Word Cycle,
by ‘Palinurus'” (1945),
CEJL,
Vol. 3, p. 320: the error of the book lies “in assuming that a collectivist society would destroy human individuality.”

except for the information it conveys:
Cf.
Broadcast,
p. 73: “We have learned now, however, that money is valueless in itself, and only goods count.”

ration books, and coupons:
1984,
pp. 27, 32, 40, 59, 270.

Lighthouses for ships:
Cf. R.H. Coase, “The Lighthouse in Economics,”
Journal of Law and Economics
17 (1974): 357. Coase ends as follows: “[Economists wishing to point to a service which is best provided by the government should use an example which has a more solid backing” (p. 376). With technology available today, it is far easier than Coase ever imagined to privatize the services that a lighthouse (or an air traffic control center) provides.

for air, water, or land:
See, generally, R. H. Coase, “The Problem of Social Cost,” in Coase,
The Firm, the Market, and the Law
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988), pp. 95, 114-119. Coase, “Notes on the Problem of Social Cost,” in
The Firm,
pp. 157, 174179.

the right instincts:
1984,
pp. 8, 212. See also “Who Are the War Criminals?” (1943),
CEJL,
Vol. 2, p. 319: “To begin with, what crime, if any, has Mussolini committed? In power politics there are no crimes, because there are no laws”; “As I Please” (1943),
CEJL,
Vol. 3, p. 66: “How could there be, when legality implies authority and there is no authority with the power to transcend national frontiers?”

reborn spontaneously in a telescreened society:
Cf. “The English People” (1944),
CEJL,
Vol. 3, p. 9: “[T]he efficiency of the English police force really depends on the fact that the police have public opinion behind them.” See also “Freedom of the Park” (1945),
CEJL,
Vol. 4, p. 40: “Whether [the laws] are carried out, and how the police behave, depends on the general temper of the country. If large numbers of people are interested in freedom of speech, for example, there will be freedom of speech, even if the law forbids it; if public opinion is sluggish, inconvenient minorities will be persecuted, even if laws exist to protect them.”

he slouched forward:
Aspidistra,
p. 72.

a printing press or a broadcast station:
Cf. “London Letter to
Partisan Review”
(1941),
CEJL,
Vol. 2, p. 118: “[I]n England there is a great respect for freedom of speech but very little for freedom of the press.”

even if the law forbids it:
“Freedom of the Park,” p. 40.

leisure creates literacy:
1984,
p. 191.

were all stagnant oligopolies:
“Boys' Weeklies”
(1939), Essays, I, pp. 280-281.

this will now disappear:
Cf. “The English People,” p. 23: mass-produced amusements “have to appeal to a public of millions and therefore have to avoid stirring up class antagonisms.”

and often several:
“Boys' Weeklies,” p. 280.

a single national network cannot possibly do:
“Boys' Weeklies”
p. 281.

and crossword puzzle fans:
“England, Your England,” p. 255.

the whole of Hyde Park:
Cf.
Burmese Days,
p. 191: “He told Flory not to start talking like a damned Hyde Park agitator.”

Hitler to be Jesus Christ:
“Freedom of the Park,” p. 39.

in the physical world:
“Freedom of the Park,” p. 39.

irresponsible, ungenteel ways:
“Review,
Herman Melville,
by Lewis Mumford” (1930),
CEJL,
Vol. 1, p. 21.

a buoyant, carefree feeling:
“Riding Down from Bangor” (1946),
Essays,
III, p. 406.

capitalist civilization at its best:
“Riding Down from Bangor,” p. 407.

buy them back in private, among friends:
Burmese Days,
p. 69.

chosen for you from above:
“England, Your England,” p. 256.

like the quacking of a duck:
1984,
pp. 51, 54-55, 311.

fastening one's love upon other human individuals:
“Reflections on Gandhi” (1949),
Essays,
I, p. 176.

Chapter 16

a quarter bottle of gin:
Cf. Shelden, p. 151.

with darkness all above:
Coming up for Air,
p. 173.

peered meaningfully from several doorways:
Aspidistra,
p. 166.

vulgarer versions of Kate's:
Aspidistra,
p. 172.

a broad-lipped smile:
Aspidistra,
p. 72.

the same bed, probably:
Aspidistra,
p. 174.

fear and sadistic exaltation:
Shelden, p. 214.

Come closer:
Aspidistra,
p. 175.

violently sick, three or four times:
Aspidistra,
p. 177.

I'm going to be sick:
Aspidistra,
p. 179.

Chapter 17

in the corner of the room:
See
1984,
p. 243.

like a mountain crumbling:
See
1984,
p. 77.

fierce and watchful:
1984,
p. 274.

costly piece of machinery:
“Shooting an Elephant” (1936),
Essays,
I, pp. 151-152.

hypodermics and the pain machine:
Many of the prison exchanges between O'Brien and Smith in
1984 art
reworked from Orwell's prior essays.

For example: In language lifted straight out of Orwell's earlier essays, O'Brien explains why the torture is necessary. O'Brien: “Can you not understand, Winston, that the individual is only a cell? The weariness of the cell is the vigor of the organism.”
1984,
p. 267. Compare “Notes on the Way” (1940),
CEJL,
Vol 2, p. 317: “Man is not an individual, he is only a cell in an everlasting body.” See also “Review,
Communism and Man,
by F. J. Sheed” (1939),
CEJL,
Vol. 1, p. 383: “Either this life is a preparation for another, in which case the individual soul is all-important, or there is no life after death, in which case the individual is merely a replaceable cell in the general body.”

Similarly, O'Brien explains that power is everything: “The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake.” Compare “Raffles and Miss Blandish” (1944),
Essays,
I, p. 139: There is “only one motive,” which is “the pursuit of power.” See also “Rudyard Kipling” (1942),
Essays,
I, p. 118: “No one, in our time, believes in any sanction greater than military power; no one believes that it is possible to overcome force except by greater force. There is no law,' there is only power.” “Charles Dickens” (1939),
Essays,
I, p. 65: “The central problem how to prevent power from being abused remains unsolved.”

O'Brien reduces this to a single metaphor: “If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever.”
1984,
p. 271. Compare “England, your England” (1941),
Essays,
I, p. 259: “The goose-step . . . is simply an affirmation of naked power; contained in it, quite consciously and intentionally, is the vision of a boot crashing down on a face.” See also “Raffles and
Miss Blandish,” p. 139: “[T]he hero . . . is described as stamping on somebody's face.”

down his face from cheek to chin:
Shelden, p. 212.

Do you understand that:
1984,
pp. 248-249.

the overthrow of the Party:
1984,
p. 265.

who could pronounce their aitches:
Wigan Pier,
p. 50.

you happen to he insane:
1984,
p. 262.

resettled his spectacles thoughtfully:
1984,
p. 249.

persuade rather than to punish:
1984,
p. 249.

human drudgery had disappeared:
1984,
p. 190.

living standards of the average human being improved steadily:
1984,
p. 190.

wealth would confer no distinction:
1984,
p. 190.

only possible on a basis of poverty and ignorance:
1984,
p. 191.

incompatible with equality:
“The English People” (1944),
CEJL,
Vol. 3, p. 23.

in their native talents:
1984,
p. 205.

in ways that favored some individuals over others:
1984,
p. 205.

impossible for mechanical reasons:
“Second Thoughts on James Bumham” (1946),
Essays,
II, p. 351.

thicker than my thighs:
1984,
p. 274.

the weight of my skull:
1984,
p. 275.

six guards to pry him loose:
“A Hanging” (1931), Essays, II, p. 10. See also “As I Please” (1944), CEJL, Vol. 3, p. 267.

an unbreakable system of tabus:
Burmese Days,
p. 69.

admire the man's impudence:
Burmese Days,
p. 255.

American breakfast cereal:
Down and Out,
p. 82.

blackmail, fraud, and libel:
Cf.
Homage to Catalonia,
p. 65.

compositor, author, and bookseller:
I am paraphrasing here from Orwell's “Review of Penguin Books” (1936),
CEJL,
Vol. 1, pp. 165167. Like so many others, this essay demonstrates that Orwell does not understand economics at all. He is sure that cheaper books are “an advantage from the reader's point” and accepts that they don't “hurt trade as a whole.” But he is equally sure that “for the publisher, the compositor, the author and the bookseller,” cheaper books are “a disaster” (p. 166). In effect, then, Orwell assumes that the demand for books is completely inelastic, so that
lower prices invariably mean lower revenues. McDonald's, however, sells cheaper beef than Maxim's, and yet makes its owners far richer.

walking down a wet street:
Shelden, p. 325 (quoting Stephen Spender's description of Orwell).

all shall be forgiven you:
“Benefit of Clergy: Some Notes on Salvador Dalí” (1944),
Essays, W,
p. 26.

gained by private sponging:
“Review,
The Rock
Pool, by Cyril Connolly” (1936),
CEJL,
Vol. 1, p. 226.

the song of birds:
Wigan Pier,
pp. 204-205.

news the Party supplies today:
1984,
p. 44.

every form of diseased intelligence:
“Benefit of Clergy: Some Notes on Salvador Dalí,” p.27.

what they do not want to hear:
“The Freedom of the Press,” quoted in Shelden, p. 235.

better that he should be a policeman than a gangster:
“Raffles and Miss Blandish,” p. 144.

on the side of the criminal:
“No, Not One” (1941),
CEJL,
Vol. 2, pp. 166-167.

picking pockets at the races:
“Benefit of Clergy: Some Notes on Salvador Dalí,” p. 26.

high sentiments make no appeal:
“The Art of Donald McGill” (1941),
Essays,
I, p. 114.

neatly as a skinned rabbit:
“Shooting an Elephant” (1936),
Essays,
I, p. 151.

hedonistic utopia that Winston Smith imagined:
1984,
p. 270.

only a polite name for capitalism:
Homage to Catalonia,
pp. 60,69.

phesbian leminists of England:
Wigan Pier,
p. 174.

hierarchies of talent and nothing else:
“Such, Such Were the Joys” (1947),
Essays,
I, p. 41.

pull in opposite directions:
“Review,
A Coat of Many Colours: Occasional Essays,
by Herbert Read” (1945),
CEJL,
Vol. 4, p. 49.

for each other's mutual benefit:
“Review,
A Coat of Many Colours: Occasional Essays
by Herbert Read,” p. 49.

Everyone had laughed:
“A Hanging,” p. 13.

bubbling sound deep down in his belly:
Burmese Days,
p. 13.

journalists, and professional politicians:
1984,
p. 206.

running up his right leg:
1984,
p. 275.

the Party controls you:
1984,
p. 257.

to find a window somewhere:
1984,
p. 235.

You are dead:
In the
1984
prison scenes, Orwell returns to a question he has explored throughout
1984,
the death of body and soul. A man dies when he rejects the Party. From the moment Winston begins to write his diary he knows he is “already dead” (p. 29). “We are the dead,” Winston intones to Julia time and again during their affair (p. 222). But a man also dies when he embraces the Party. “We shall crush you down to the point from which there is no coming back,” O'Brien tells Winston. “Everything will be dead inside you” (pp. 259-260). So you're dead if you do and dead if you don't.