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There are certain kinds of deaths that one should not be expected to relive, certain kinds of connections so deep that when they are broken you feel the snap of the link inside you.

Her knees failed,
and her heart failed as she listened to the words,
and all her power of speech went out of her.
Tears came; but the rich voice could not come.

Before the end my heart was broken down.
I slumped on the trampled sand and cried aloud,
caring no more for life or the light of day,
and rolled there weeping, till my tears were spent.

How gladly I should live one third as rich
to have my friends back safe at home!—my friends
who died on Troy’s wide seaboard, far
from the grazing lands of Argos.
But as things are, nothing but grief is left me
for those companions. While I sit at home
sometimes hot tears come, and I revel in them,
or stop before the surfeit makes me shiver.

And even as far away as Ithaka
you’ve heard of Agamémnon—how he came
home, how Aigísthos waited to destroy him
but paid a bitter price for it in the end.
That is a good thing, now, for a man to leave
a son behind him, like the son who punished Aigísthos for the murder of his great father.

But you, who are the smallest of the family, keep waiting for me with anticipation, and I will take care of you.

But the wish to awaken you
to the promise of spring, to a new beginning,
warms my heart.

I am the ancient earth, frozen in winter,
soon blooming to new life,
again and again.

gifts that are not measured in money,
to which human beings are
attached like leeches.

[…]

I am all-powerful and unstoppable.

I am both benevolent and fearsome.

Dear child, whatever put this in your head?
Why do you want to go so far in the world—
and you our only darling?

But he is lost; he came to grief and perished,
and there’s no help for us in someone’s hoping
he still may come; that sun has long gone down.

Done. Only the Appendix left. :)

Crawling my way to the end……

Finally back after a long rest…

At this point I can only say that Orwell was a bad writer who had zero craft, just philosophical ideas.

POOR THE CHINLESS MAN.

“You are the dead.”

MY HEART FUCKING DROPPED.

It’s a bit funny how people keep weaponising this book against certain systems when it’s far too context-specific to critique real ones. There are a few points here and there—like the one about manipulating information or building atomic bombs as a show of power—but overall it’s examining a dystopia that’s really just Orwell’s thought experiment, not something directly applicable to real life.

Goldstein’s book is the first part actually worth contemplating since the beginning of this book…

Not Winston spilling everything to O’Brien like the embodiment of naiveté himself……

Winston is so pathetic 🤦‍♀️ dude really thinks getting laid is a strike against the Party

Orwell what the FUCK I’m not here for a romance