Part 2, Chapter 3 Summary
The next morning, Julia makes the preparations to return to London, and she and Winston return to normality. Over the coming weeks, they arrange several short meetings in the city. They agree to meet in the hideout again, but instead, they meet in the belfry of a ruined church.
Julia tells Winton more about herself, particularly about her job, love affairs and hatred towards the Party. She claims that Big Brother channel the sexual frustration of people into hatred towards other parties and the impassioned love of Big Brother.
Winston tells Julia about a walk he once took with his estranged wife Katherine, where he felt the urge to push her off a cliff. He says him pushing her would have mattered little, since it is impossible to win against the forces of the Party. They discuss being caught; Winston is pessimistic, whereas Julia is optimistic. Julia is not interested in widespread rebellion; instead, she enjoys outwitting the party and having a good time. Julia draws a map in the sand of where they will meet again.
Nineteen Eighty-Four, Part 2, Chapter 3 Full Text
‘We can come here once again,’ said Julia. ‘It’s generally safe to use any hide-out twice. But not for another month or two, of course.’
As soon as she woke up her demeanour had changed. She became alert and business-like, put her clothes on, knotted the scarlet sash about her waist, and began arranging the details of the journey home. It seemed natural to leave this to her. She obviously had a practical cunning which Winston lacked, and she seemed also to have an exhaustive knowledge of the countryside round London, stored away from innumerable community hikes. The route she gave him was quite different from the one by which he had come, and brought him out at a different railway station. ‘Never go home the same way as you went out,’ she said, as though enunciating an important general principle. She would leave first, and Winston was to wait half an hour before following her.
She had named a place where they could meet after work, four evenings hence. It was a street in one of the poorer quarters, where there was an open market which was generally crowded and noisy. She would be hanging about among the stalls, pretending to be in search of shoelaces or sewing-thread. If she judged that the coast was clear she would blow her nose when he approached; otherwise he was to walk past her without recognition. But with luck, in the middle of the crowd, it would be safe to talk for a quarter of an hour and arrange another meeting.
‘And now I must go,’ she said as soon as he had mastered his instructions. ‘I’m due back at nineteen-thirty. I’ve got to put in two hours for the Junior Anti-Sex League, handing out leaflets, or something. Isn’t it bloody? Give me a brush-down, would you? Have I got any twigs in my hair? Are you sure? Then good-bye, my love, good-bye!’
She flung herself into his arms, kissed him almost violently, and a moment later pushed her way through the saplings and disappeared into the wood with very little noise. Even now he had not found out her surname or her address. However, it made no difference, for it was inconceivable that they could ever meet indoors or exchange any kind of written communication.
As it happened, they never went back to the clearing in the wood. During the month of May there was only one further occasion on which they actually succeeded in making love. That was in another hiding-place known to Julia, the belfry of a ruinous church in an almost-deserted stretch of country where an atomic bomb had fallen thirty years earlier. It was a good hiding-place when once you got there, but the getting there was very dangerous. For the rest they could meet only in the streets, in a different place every evening and never for more than half an hour at a time. In the street it was usually possible to talk, after a fashion. As they drifted down the crowded pavements, not quite abreast and never looking at one another, they carried on a curious, intermittent conversation which flicked on and off like the beams of a lighthouse, suddenly nipped into silence by the approach of a Party uniform or the proximity of a telescreen, then taken up again minutes later in the middle of a sentence, then abruptly cut short as they parted at the agreed spot, then continued almost without introduction on the following day. Julia appeared to be quite used to this kind of conversation, which she called ‘talking by instalments’. She was also surprisingly adept at speaking without moving her lips. Just once in almost a month of nightly meetings they managed to exchange a kiss. They were passing in silence down a side-street (Julia would never speak when they were away from the main streets) when there was a deafening roar, the earth heaved, and the air darkened, and Winston found himself lying on his side, bruised and terrified. A rocket bomb must have dropped quite near at hand. Suddenly he became aware of Julia’s face a few centimetres from his own, deathly white, as white as chalk. Even her lips were white. She was dead! He clasped her against him and found that he was kissing a live warm face. But there was some powdery stuff that got in the way of his lips. Both of their faces were thickly coated with plaster.
There were evenings when they reached their rendezvous and then had to walk past one another without a sign, because a patrol had just come round the corner or a helicopter was hovering overhead. Even if it had been less dangerous, it would still have been difficult to find time to meet. Winston’s working week was sixty hours, Julia’s was even longer, and their free days varied according to the pressure of work and did not often coincide. Julia, in any case, seldom had an evening completely free. She spent an astonishing amount of time in attending lectures and demonstrations, distributing literature for the junior Anti-Sex League, preparing banners for Hate Week, making collections for the savings campaign, and such-like activities. It paid, she said, it was camouflage. If you kept the small rules, you could break the big ones. She even induced Winston to mortgage yet another of his evenings by enrolling himself for the part-time munition work which was done voluntarily by zealous Party members. So, one evening every week, Winston spent four hours of paralysing boredom, screwing together small bits of metal which were probably parts of bomb fuses, in a draughty, ill-lit workshop where the knocking of hammers mingled drearily with the music of the telescreens.
When they met in the church tower the gaps in their fragmentary conversation were filled up. It was a blazing afternoon. The air in the little square chamber above the bells was hot and stagnant, and smelt overpoweringly of pigeon dung. They sat talking for hours on the dusty, twig-littered floor, one or other of them getting up from time to time to cast a glance through the arrowslits and make sure that no one was coming.
Julia was twenty-six years old. She lived in a hostel with thirty other girls (‘Always in the stink of women! How I hate women!’ she said parenthetically), and she worked, as he had guessed, on the novel-writing machines in the Fiction Department. She enjoyed her work, which consisted chiefly in running and servicing a powerful but tricky electric motor. She was ‘not clever’, but was fond of using her hands and felt at home with machinery. She could describe the whole process of composing a novel, from the general directive issued by the Planning Committee down to the final touching-up by the Rewrite Squad. But she was not interested in the finished product. She ‘didn’t much care for reading,’ she said. Books were just a commodity that had to be produced, like jam or bootlaces.
She had no memories of anything before the early sixties and the only person she had ever known who talked frequently of the days before the Revolution was a grandfather who had disappeared when she was eight. At school she had been captain of the hockey team and had won the gymnastics trophy two years running. She had been a troop-leader in the Spies and a branch secretary in the Youth League before joining the Junior Anti-Sex League. She had always borne an excellent character. She had even (an infallible mark of good reputation) been picked out to work in Pornosec, the sub-section of the Fiction Department which turned out cheap pornography for distribution among the proles. It was nicknamed Muck House by the people who worked in it, she remarked. There she had remained for a year, helping to produce booklets in sealed packets with titles like ‘Spanking Stories’ or ‘One Night in a Girls’ School’, to be bought furtively by proletarian youths who were under the impression that they were buying something illegal.
‘What are these books like?’ said Winston curiously.
‘Oh, ghastly rubbish. They’re boring, really. They only have six plots, but they swap them round a bit. Of course I was only on the kaleidoscopes. I was never in the Rewrite Squad. I’m not literary, dear—not even enough for that.’
He learned with astonishment that all the workers in Pornosec, except the heads of the departments, were girls. The theory was that men, whose sex instincts were less controllable than those of women, were in greater danger of being corrupted by the filth they handled.
‘They don’t even like having married women there,’ she added. Girls are always supposed to be so pure. Here’s one who isn’t, anyway.
She had had her first love-affair when she was sixteen, with a Party member of sixty who later committed suicide to avoid arrest. ‘And a good job too,’ said Julia, ‘otherwise they’d have had my name out of him when he confessed.’ Since then there had been various others. Life as she saw it was quite simple. You wanted a good time; ‘they’, meaning the Party, wanted to stop you having it; you broke the rules as best you could. She seemed to think it just as natural that ‘they’ should want to rob you of your pleasures as that you should want to avoid being caught. She hated the Party, and said so in the crudest words, but she made no general criticism of it. Except where it touched upon her own life she had no interest in Party doctrine. He noticed that she never used Newspeak words except the ones that had passed into everyday use. She had never heard of the Brotherhood, and refused to believe in its existence. Any kind of organized revolt against the Party, which was bound to be a failure, struck her as stupid. The clever thing was to break the rules and stay alive all the same. He wondered vaguely how many others like her there might be in the younger generation people who had grown up in the world of the Revolution, knowing nothing else, accepting the Party as something unalterable, like the sky, not rebelling against its authority but simply evading it, as a rabbit dodges a dog.
They did not discuss the possibility of getting married. It was too remote to be worth thinking about. No imaginable committee would ever sanction such a marriage even if Katharine, Winston’s wife, could somehow have been got rid of. It was hopeless even as a daydream.
‘What was she like, your wife?’ said Julia.
‘She was—do you know the Newspeak word GOODTHINKFUL? Meaning naturally orthodox, incapable of thinking a bad thought?’
‘No, I didn’t know the word, but I know the kind of person, right enough.’
He began telling her the story of his married life, but curiously enough she appeared to know the essential parts of it already. She described to him, almost as though she had seen or felt it, the stiffening of Katharine’s body as soon as he touched her, the way in which she still seemed to be pushing him from her with all her strength, even when her arms were clasped tightly round him. With Julia he felt no difficulty in talking about such things: Katharine, in any case, had long ceased to be a painful memory and became merely a distasteful one.
‘I could have stood it if it hadn’t been for one thing,’ he said. He told her about the frigid little ceremony that Katharine had forced him to go through on the same night every week. ‘She hated it, but nothing would make her stop doing it. She used to call it—but you’ll never guess.’
‘Our duty to the Party,’ said Julia promptly.
‘How did you know that?’
‘I’ve been at school too, dear. Sex talks once a month for the over-sixteens. And in the Youth Movement. They rub it into you for years. I dare say it works in a lot of cases. But of course you can never tell; people are such hypocrites.’
She began to enlarge upon the subject. With Julia, everything came back to her own sexuality. As soon as this was touched upon in any way she was capable of great acuteness. Unlike Winston, she had grasped the inner meaning of the Party’s sexual puritanism. It was not merely that the sex instinct created a world of its own which was outside the Party’s control and which therefore had to be destroyed if possible. What was more important was that sexual privation induced hysteria, which was desirable because it could be transformed into war-fever and leader-worship. The way she put it was:
‘When you make love you’re using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don’t give a damn for anything. They can’t bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you’re happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and the Three-Year Plans and the Two Minutes Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot?’
That was very true, he thought. There was a direct intimate connexion between chastity and political orthodoxy. For how could the fear, the hatred, and the lunatic credulity which the Party needed in its members be kept at the right pitch, except by bottling down some powerful instinct and using it as a driving force? The sex impulse was dangerous to the Party, and the Party had turned it to account. They had played a similar trick with the instinct of parenthood. The family could not actually be abolished, and, indeed, people were encouraged to be fond of their children, in almost the old-fashioned way. The children, on the other hand, were systematically turned against their parents and taught to spy on them and report their deviations. The family had become in effect an extension of the Thought Police. It was a device by means of which everyone could be surrounded night and day by informers who knew him intimately.
Abruptly his mind went back to Katharine. Katharine would unquestionably have denounced him to the Thought Police if she had not happened to be too stupid to detect the unorthodoxy of his opinions. But what really recalled her to him at this moment was the stifling heat of the afternoon, which had brought the sweat out on his forehead. He began telling Julia of something that had happened, or rather had failed to happen, on another sweltering summer afternoon, eleven years ago.
It was three or four months after they were married. They had lost their way on a community hike somewhere in Kent. They had only lagged behind the others for a couple of minutes, but they took a wrong turning, and presently found themselves pulled up short by the edge of an old chalk quarry. It was a sheer drop of ten or twenty metres, with boulders at the bottom. There was nobody of whom they could ask the way. As soon as she realized that they were lost Katharine became very uneasy. To be away from the noisy mob of hikers even for a moment gave her a feeling of wrong-doing. She wanted to hurry back by the way they had come and start searching in the other direction. But at this moment Winston noticed some tufts of loosestrife growing in the cracks of the cliff beneath them. One tuft was of two colours, magenta and brick-red, apparently growing on the same root. He had never seen anything of the kind before, and he called to Katharine to come and look at it.
‘Look, Katharine! Look at those flowers. That clump down near the bottom. Do you see they’re two different colours?’
She had already turned to go, but she did rather fretfully come back for a moment. She even leaned out over the cliff face to see where he was pointing. He was standing a little behind her, and he put his hand on her waist to steady her. At this moment it suddenly occurred to him how completely alone they were. There was not a human creature anywhere, not a leaf stirring, not even a bird awake. In a place like this the danger that there would be a hidden microphone was very small, and even if there was a microphone it would only pick up sounds. It was the hottest sleepiest hour of the afternoon. The sun blazed down upon them, the sweat tickled his face. And the thought struck him…
‘Why didn’t you give her a good shove?’ said Julia. ‘I would have.’
‘Yes, dear, you would have. I would, if I’d been the same person then as I am now. Or perhaps I would—I’m not certain.’
‘Are you sorry you didn’t?’
‘Yes. On the whole I’m sorry I didn’t.’
They were sitting side by side on the dusty floor. He pulled her closer against him. Her head rested on his shoulder, the pleasant smell of her hair conquering the pigeon dung. She was very young, he thought, she still expected something from life, she did not understand that to push an inconvenient person over a cliff solves nothing.
‘Actually it would have made no difference,’ he said.
‘Then why are you sorry you didn’t do it?’
‘Only because I prefer a positive to a negative. In this game that we’re playing, we can’t win. Some kinds of failure are better than other kinds, that’s all.’
He felt her shoulders give a wriggle of dissent. She always contradicted him when he said anything of this kind. She would not accept it as a law of nature that the individual is always defeated. In a way she realized that she herself was doomed, that sooner or later the Thought Police would catch her and kill her, but with another part of her mind she believed that it was somehow possible to construct a secret world in which you could live as you chose. All you needed was luck and cunning and boldness. She did not understand that there was no such thing as happiness, that the only victory lay in the far future, long after you were dead, that from the moment of declaring war on the Party it was better to think of yourself as a corpse.
‘We are the dead,’ he said.
‘We’re not dead yet,’ said Julia prosaically.
‘Not physically. Six months, a year—five years, conceivably. I am afraid of death. You are young, so presumably you’re more afraid of it than I am. Obviously we shall put it off as long as we can. But it makes very little difference. So long as human beings stay human, death and life are the same thing.’
‘Oh, rubbish! Which would you sooner sleep with, me or a skeleton? Don’t you enjoy being alive? Don’t you like feeling: This is me, this is my hand, this is my leg, I’m real, I’m solid, I’m alive! Don’t you like THIS?’
She twisted herself round and pressed her bosom against him. He could feel her breasts, ripe yet firm, through her overalls. Her body seemed to be pouring some of its youth and vigour into his.
‘Yes, I like that,’ he said.
‘Then stop talking about dying. And now listen, dear, we’ve got to fix up about the next time we meet. We may as well go back to the place in the wood. We’ve given it a good long rest. But you must get there by a different way this time. I’ve got it all planned out. You take the train—but look, I’ll draw it out for you.’
And in her practical way she scraped together a small square of dust, and with a twig from a pigeon’s nest began drawing a map on the floor.
Read more of 1984
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 1
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 2
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 3
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 4
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 5
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 6
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 7
1984 – Part 1, Chapter 8
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 1
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 2
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 3
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 4
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 5
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 6
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 7
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 8
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 9
1984 – Part 2, Chapter 10
1984 – Part 3, Chapter 1
1984 – Part 3, Chapter 2
1984 – Part 3, Chapter 3
1984 – Part 3, Chapter 4
1984 – Part 3, Chapter 5
1984 – Part 3, Chapter 6
1984 – Appendix
For a broad summary of the novel and its central themes, click here. For an analysis of the novel’s main characters and what they represent, click here.
In Chapter 3 of Book 2 of 1984, Winston and Julia meet again after waiting a while so they would not raise any suspicions. They make love again and then share details from their personal lives with each other. Julia tells Winston about her life and sexual activities with many Party members.What is a brief summary of chapter 3 1984? ›
In Chapter 3 of 1984, Winston dreams about the death of his mother and his sister drowning in the saloon of a sinking ship. He remembers with guilt that, in some way, they sacrificed their lives for him. It appears that they died during a political purge.What is a summary for chapter 2 1984? ›
Summary: Chapter II
In Mrs. Parsons's apartment, Winston is tormented by the fervent Parsons children, who, being Junior Spies, accuse him of thoughtcrime. The Junior Spies is an organization of children who monitor adults for disloyalty to the Party, and frequently succeed in catching them—Mrs.
Summary: Chapter III
After weeks of interrogation and torture, O'Brien tells Winston about the Party's motives. Winston speculates that the Party rules the proles for their own good. O'Brien tortures him for this answer, saying that the Party's only goal is absolute, endless, and limitless power.
How is Winston tortured? What types of confession did he make? He was tortured with beatings and merciless questioning. He confessed to all sorts of untrue things, such as embezzlement of public funds, assassinating eminent Party members, and sale of military secrets.What does O Brien show to Winston in Part 3 chapter 2? ›
Quotes from 1984 Book 3 Chapter 2
O'Brien explains that Winston cannot trust his own senses and memory, and since the Party controls all records, he should instead trust what the Party says. The past, O'Brien argues, is not a real place, so the only place where it exists is in the records and history of the Party.
The third chapter focuses on how love and caregiving, particularly in the early years, have a profound impact on the formation and development of the human brain. This influences attitudes, behaviors, and even personality, as one progresses through life.What is the summary of chapter 3 of the story of my life? ›
Short Summary of Chapter-3 The Story of My Life by Helen Keller in Simple Words- This chapter discusses the challenges faced by Helen's parents before the arrival of Miss Sullivan. They found it difficult to accept Helen's frustration and emotional breakdowns in her attempts to express herself.What are the themes of chapter 3 in 1984? ›
- Totalitarianism and Communism.
- The Individual vs. Collective Identity.
- Reality Control.
- Sex, Love, and Loyalty.
- Class Struggle.
Summary: Chapter IV
Charrington's shop, which he has rented—foolishly, he thinks—for his affair with Julia. Outside, a burly, red-armed woman sings a song and hangs up her laundry. Winston and Julia have been busy with the city's preparations for Hate Week, and Winston has been frustrated by their inability to meet.
This chapter emphasizes, introduces, or returns to symbols mentioned previously: Winston's fear of rats, his nightmare, the nursery rhyme, and the paperweight. The rat poking his head through the wall foreshadows two separate events, both having to do with the couple's eventual capture.What is chapter 2 Part 2 of 1984 about? ›
In Book 2, Chapter 2 of George Orwell's 1984, Winston meets the dark-haired girl, named Julia, in the countryside. He learns more about her, especially about her experience sleeping with members of the Party.What was Part 3 Chapter 4 in 1984 about? ›
One night, Winston dreams of the Golden Country and wakes up crying out for Julia, loving her more than ever. He realizes then that his inner heart has not been converted, though his mind has surrendered. Inside, he still hates the Party, and he believes he will have his revenge when he dies, still hating it.What causes Winston to cry in Chapter 3? ›
Winston thinks he hears the song lyrics “Under the spreading chestnut tree / I sold you and you sold me,” which he heard when he saw the political prisoners there many years earlier. He begins to cry.What is the quote in Chapter 3 of 1984? ›
“Never again will you be capable of love, or friendship, or joy of living, or laughter, or curiosity, or courage, or integrity. You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves."What does Winston dream mean in Chapter 3? ›
Chapter 3 begins with Winston dreaming about his mother holding his little sister, sinking in a ship. Winston feels guilty because he feels they had to die so he could survive. However, he sees no resentment in their eyes as they sink deeper and deeper to their deaths.
Because O'Brien tortures him, Winston perversely comes to love O'Brien. Throughout the torture sessions, Winston becomes increasingly eager to believe anything O'Brien tells him—even Party slogans and rhetoric.What does Winston learn from O Brien in Chapter 3? ›
However, O'Brien tells Winston that he will be beaten eventually because the Party does not need to control the human spirit, just the human mind. O'Brien says that Winston will eventually be cured and will love the Party because the Party seeks absolute control over every aspect of the human mind.When Winston is being tortured in part 3 chapter 2 what is his primary concern or main goal? ›
|Who is in charge of Winston's torture?||His mother|
|When Winston is being tortured in Part 3 chapter 2, what is his primary concern or main goal?||to figure what they want hom|
O'Brien inducts Winston into the Brotherhood. Later, though, he appears at Winston's jail cell to abuse and brainwash him in the name of the Party.
Winston betrays Julia to save himself, a human act of self-preservation, even though the self is supposed to be reserved for the use of the Party. By saving himself, Winston commits a selfish act, and thus should be punished for it; however, he is spared. This can be seen as a flaw in the story.What is the summary of a book? ›
What is a Book Summary? A book summary, as the name suggests, is a summarization of a larger text in a more concise and comprehensible manner. The main ideas of the book are extracted, the main plot and key characters are concisely described and condensed in a short overview.What happened to you book key points? ›
1-Sentence-Summary: What Happened to You? is Oprah's look into trauma, including how traumatic experiences affect our brains throughout our lives, what they mean about the way we handle stress, and why we need to see it as both a problem with our society and our brains if we want to get through it.Who do we finally meet in chapter 3? ›
Even more excitingly, we finally get to meet the man, the myth, the legend himself—Gatsby, in the flesh!What is the main idea of the chapter three questions? ›
"The Three Questions" is a 1903 short story by Russian author Leo Tolstoy as part of the collection What Men Live By, and Other Tales. The story takes the form of a parable, and it concerns a king who wants to find the answers to what he considers the three most important questions in life.What is the summary of chapter 3 in night? ›
In Night chapter 3, Elie and his family arrive at Auschwitz. They wait for many hours in the cattle cars before the train moves to drop the prisoners off at Birkenau, the reception center for Auschwitz. The prisoners were separated into two groups: men in one, and women and children in another.What is Winston's health as depicted in Chapter 3? ›
Winston suffers from vericose ulcer, a condition that often makes him feel terrible and gasp for breath. His mother disappeared when he was a young boy of 10 or 11, but he still dreams about her. It is a recurring nightmare that disturbs Winston again later in the story.What word does Winston wake up with on his lips in Chapter 3? ›
Winston wakes with the word 'Shakespeare' on his lips, perhaps, because the narrative needs him to—because it needs him to speak for a touchstone of cultural value, Shakespeare, who otherwise cannot really figure in the story.What is the theme of Chapter 2 1984? ›
The mutability of the past and the existence of fact through memory are prominent themes throughout 1984. In this chapter, Winston begins to ask himself questions that will haunt him throughout the rest of the book; among them, how can an idea survive if the past is not allowed to exist?What does Winston tell Julia about his wife in chapter 3? ›
Winston, in turn, tells Julia about a time when he was on a community hike with Katharine and nearly pushed his wife off a cliff. He tells Julia that whether or not he pushed his wife doesn't matter, because failure in the face of the Party's oppression is inevitable.
Winston Smith strikes a deal with Mr. Charrington, owner of the junk shop where Winston bought the diary and the glass paperweight, to rent the upstairs room for his affair with Julia.What does the dark haired girl tell Winston her name is in Book 2 chapter 2 of 1984? ›
Winston hears a noise on the path and sees that it is the brunette. She silently leads Winston to a clearing surrounded by trees. Winston is put at ease by the girl's confidence; it's clear that she has been to this place before. She tells Winston that her name is Julia.
Syme (the genius co-worker) has vanished as Winston predicted. Now he has ceased to exist, therefore he never existed. Winston observes the various preparations for Hate Week: posters, propaganda, Hate songs, and streamers.What happens in Part 3 chapter 6 of 1984? ›
The telescreen announces victory at the front lines, and Winston is overjoyed to tears. In the end, he is happy to have won the struggle over himself; he loves Big Brother. Totalitarianism has won over humanity; Winston is one of the masses now, putting his real self aside for the Party, for Big Brother.What happens in Part 2 chapter 6 of 1984? ›
Part 2, Chapter 6 Summary
Winston has been waiting for O'Brien to make contact for a long time. Finally, one day while in the hallway at the Ministry of Truth, O'Brien stops Winston to talk to him. Winston has the urge to run away, but is also intrigued and excited. O'Brien asks Winston about his knowledge of Newspeak.
Summary: Chapter III
At a rendezvous in a ruined church, Julia tells Winston about living in a hostel with thirty other girls, and about her first illicit sexual encounter. Unlike Winston, Julia is not interested in widespread rebellion; she simply likes outwitting the party and enjoying herself.
Part 3, Chapter 4 Summary
He dreams deeply of Julia, his mother and O'Brien in the Golden Country. He gains weight, and is even allowed to write. He reaches the conclusion that he was foolish to even try and oppose the Party alone, and tries to make himself to believe in the Party slogans.
One night, Winston dreams of the Golden Country and wakes up crying out for Julia, loving her more than ever. He realizes then that his inner heart has not been converted, though his mind has surrendered. Inside, he still hates the Party, and he believes he will have his revenge when he dies, still hating it.What happens in chapter 2 Part 8 of 1984? ›
In 1984, Book 2, Chapter 8, Winston and Julia go to O'Brien's house together. After O'Brien turns off his telescreen, they tell him they are there to join the Brotherhood. O'Brien then tests their commitment to the Brotherhood and its leader, Emmanuel Goldstein, by asking them a series of often unpleasant questions.What does Winston confess to Julia in Part 2 Chapter 2? ›
A thrush sings in a nearby tree as they kiss passionately. Julia removes her clothing and tells him she has slept with dozens of Party members. Winston tells her that the more men she has had sex with, the more he loves her, because then more people are breaking the laws of the Party.
Julia is almost jealous, as she wants them to show up for her—but their grief overwhelms everything, and leaves Julia feeling more alone than ever.What does Winston confess in Chapter 2? ›
Ten torture methods later, Winston (like all the other prisoners) confesses to a long range of crimes — espionage, sabotage, etc.