The Storytelling Factory | Hebden Bridge by Evgenia Vlachaki

P1: THE STORYTELLING FACTORY HEBDEN BRIDGE, WEST YORKSHIRE EVGENIA VLACHAKI 110175500 This project puts forward a proposal for a place for storytelling in Hebden Bridge, a small market town of West Yorkshire. The town, once famous for its textile industry, is now known as a corky, artistic and creative community with rich literary history. The site on Old Gate Str. used to be a corduroy factory whose ruins become the focal point of the storytelling experience, and in this way the building itself narrates the story of its past to the visitors. The Storytelling Factory addresses the community of Hebden and such as students, journalists, writers, teleworkers and commuters to more metropolitan cities at proximity. It is a facility in which live oral storytelling can be experienced and where visitors may develop their own storytelling skills in the literature workshop. The new social hub of the city centre offers a library, reading areas, a bookshop and accomodation for visiting storytellers. On the top level an external viewing platform allows views along the river while becoming a venue for socializing after events. FInally, a bookable, more intimate storytelling space for two is located at the top level, outside the building engulfed by the trees.

PROJECT CONTENTS O1 NARRATIVE PLACE -CHARACTERS OF HEBDEN BRIDGE 02 NARRATIVE SPACE -1984 03 SITE STORYTELLING -WIDER CONTEXT -SITE LOCATION -HEBDEN BRIDGE TYPOLOGIES -DYNAMICS AND ENVIRONMENTAL OBSERVATIONS -PREVIOUS USE OF SITE 04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY -ACTIVITIES AND USERS -STRATEGIES AND DEVELOPMENT -PROCESS AND CIRCULATION -COLOUR CODING STRATEGY -PLANS 1:100 -SECTION A-A IN CONTEXT 1:200 -SECTION A-A 1:100 -SECTION B-B IN CONTEXT 1:200 -SECTION B-B 1:100 -ASSEMBLY DRAWING PART 1 & 2 (*Please see tube for original drawing) -NIGHT VIEW -MODELS -INTERIOR PERSPECTIVES

**ADDITIONAL WORK: Please see Structures Assignment & Environmental Report for further analysis of the project

01 NARRATIVE PLACE | CHARACTERS OF HEBDEN BRIDGE 01 NARRATIVE PLACE | CHARACTERS OF HEBDEN BRIDGE HEBDEN BRIDGE CHARACTER

01 NARRATIVE PLACE | CHARACTERS OF HEBDEN BRIDGE

HEBDEN BRIDGE CHARACTER Hebden Bridge is a small market town located in the hills of West Hebden a small Yorkshire,Bridge which islies deep market in the town Calderlocated valley. in the hills of West Yorkshire, which lies deep in the Calder valley. The town, once famous for its blooming textile industry is now known The town, once famous corky, for its artistic bloomnationally as a liberal, ing is now known and textile creativeindustry community (a reputanationally as a liberal, artistic tion it acquired with thecorky, settling in of and creative community hippies in the early 1970’s).(a reputation it acquired with the settling in of hippies in the early The gradual influx 1970’s). of people from surrounding cities due to cheaper The gradual of people from property pricesinflux transformed Hebden surrounding to cheaper Bridge from cities just adue passage to a property prices transformed Hebden town. Bridge from just a passage to a town. The town immersed in literary history making it a suitable location for a The town immersed storytelling centre. in literary history making it a suitable location for a storytelling centre.

CHARACTERS OF HEBDEN BRIDGE CHARACTERS OF HEBDEN BRIDGE On our first visit we interviewed Characters of Hebden Bridge in On ourof first we interviewed groups four visit and found out about Characters of to Hebden Bridge in local celebrities get a feel of the groups of four and found about place and understand its out dynamics. local celebrities to get feel of the The market is filled witha individually place understand its character. dynamics. owned and shops of a distinct The filledcharacters with individually Somemarket of isthe are owned shops of a distinct character. described below. Some of the characters are described below.

Name: Lucy and the Caterpillar Name: Occupation: Lucy and the Caterpillar Singer / songwriter Fashion designer, Boutique owner Occupation: organizer of the “Hebden Bridge Vintage Singer / songwriter Fair” Fashion designer, Boutique owner organizer of the “Hebden Bridge Vintage Origin Fair” & current location: Manchester > Hebden Bridge Origin & current location: Lucy & the Caterpillar was established in Manchester > Hebden Bridge 2005 by Lucy Conroy. It all started when she an attic full of was Vintage treasures, Lucyhad & the Caterpillar established in Leaving to 5 jobItinallManchester, she 2005 by her Lucy9 Conroy. started when settled the full idyllic Hebden treasures, Bridge to she had anforattic of Vintage set up her the9 to "Lucy Caterpillar Leaving 5 job&in the Manchester, she Boutique". settled for the idyllic Hebden Bridge to set up the "Lucy & the Caterpillar Boutique".

Name: Clare Spencer Name: Occupation: Clare Spencer “Noir” gift shop owner Occupation: Origin & current location: “Noir” gift shop owner Sheffield > Hebden Origin & current location: all shops> Hebden around the marketplace of Sheffield hebden bridge evoke a very distinct character point of owners often all shops and around theview. marketplace of resemble their shops hebden bridge evoke anda their very products distinct allow us toandalmost getview. glimpse of often their character point of owners personality. wasproducts one of resemble theirclare shopsspencer and their them. allow us to almost get glimpse of their personality. clare spencer was one of them.

Name: Nick Wilding Name: Occupation: Nick Wilding Film producer and director Origin & current location: Occupation: Heptonstall Film producer and director Origin & current location: He Excalibur productions in 1986 which is Heptonstall based in Heptonstall. The company has produced He Excalibureverything productionsfrom in 1986films which tois commercials taking a particular interest based in Heptonstall. The company has in local subject matters.from Localfilms projects produced everything to include a video campaign for the commercials takingaa particular interest sustainable development Hebden Brideg in local subject matters.ofLocal projects Town Halla and called AforCalder include videoa afilmcampaign the Valley Christmas’ which ofincluded sustainable development Hebden poems, Brideg archiveHall footage, and songs from Town and astorys film called A Calder people around the area. Calder poems, Valley Valley Christmas’ whichTheincluded is also footage, where Helen of four gates from was archive storys and songs filmed around in 1920. the After a 5The yearCalder battleValley Nick people area. to organise be ismanaged also where Helen of the fourfilm gatesto was reshownin in1920. Hebden the first filmed AfterBridge a 5 yearforbattle Nick time in 80 to years. managed organise the film to be reshown in Hebden Bridge for the first time in 80 years.

Name: John the barber Name: Occupation: John the barber Barber who paints in his barbershopatelier between appointments Occupation: Barber who paints in his barbershopOrigin currentappointments location: atelier&between london (45 years) > Hebden Bridge Origin & current location: alondon londoner who moved hebden bridge (45 years) > HebdentoBridge and is now the local barber. his barber shop is trully unique,to combining his a londoner who moved hebden bridge profession his favorite and is now with the local barber. hispasstime, barber painting. shop is trully unique, combining his profession with his favorite passtime, painting.

Name: Ed Sheeran Name: Occupation: Ed Sheeran Singer Songwritter Occupation: Origin current location: Singer &Songwritter Hebden Bridge to London Origin & current location: “IHebden remember I know I lived at the Bridgebigtohills, London top of one” “I remember big hills, I know I lived at the Ed topSheeran of one” was born and raised in Hebden Bridge until the age of four, when him and his parentswas moved Suffolk he Ed Sheeran bornto and raisedhowever in Hebden claims he canthestill somehim things Bridge until age remember of four, when and about his time there.toLocal residents his parents moved Suffolk howeverseem he proud Bestremember Selling some performers claims that he canthestill things roots thethere. Calderdale about lie his intime Local Valleys. residents seem proud that the Best Selling performers roots lie in the Calderdale Valleys.

Name: Ethel Carnie Holdsworth Name: Occupation: Ethel Carnie Holdsworth Author Occupation: Origin Author& current location: Heptonstall Origin & current location: Ethel (1896-1962) started of life as a Heptonstall factory worker and keen poet. Her talent for landedstarted her a job Ethelwritting (1896-1962) of for lifeWoman as a Worker however her passion for factory magazine worker and keen poet. Her talent socialist feminism and for writting landedconcerned her a jobherformore Woman she started writting novels. Her first Worker magazine however her passion for novel Miss Nobody (1913) is thought be socialist feminism concerned her moretoand the first published by Her a British she started writtingbook novels. first working woman. of her books novel Missclass Nobody (1913)One is thought to be Helen of Four Gates was turned into a the first published book by a British silent in the workingfilm classshot woman. One moors of heraround books Hepton in 1920.was Its turned a hard into hittnga Helen ofBridge Four Gates story the harsh of the silent where film shot in thebleakness moors around moors reflected by the which Hepton isBridge in 1920. Its away hardin hittng helen treated in contrast to of Helens story iswhere the harsh bleakness the beauty. moors is reflected by the way in which helen is treated in contrast to Helens beauty.

Name: Sally Wainwright Name: Occupation: Sally Wainwright Television writer, Playwright Occupation: Origin & current Television writer,location: Playwright Halifax Origin & current location: “Last Tango in Halifax” writer Sally Halifax Wainwright set to start filming her new drama in Hebden BridgeSally and “Last “Happy Tango valley” in Halifax” writer in the upper set Calder Valley.filming her new Wainwright to start drama “Happy valley” in Hebden Bridge and the will be about an in thedark uppercomedy Calder itValley. ordinary woman who works in her community. In someit ways lives ana the dark comedy will besheabout typical modern family with herinsister ordinary woman wholife works her and grandsonInin some Hebdenways Bridge.she lives a community. typical modern family life with her sister and grandson in Hebden Bridge.

Name: Jez Lewis Name: Occupation: Jez Lewis Film director Origin & current location: Occupation: Heptonstall Film directorto London Origin & current location: “Heptonstall Previously when I told people about my to London past they said, thats your first film” “ Previously when I told people about my Jez documentary into the past Lewis they said, thats yourlooks first film” sinister cycle of drug, alcohol and suicide related deaths that form looks the darker Jez Lewis documentary into side the to Hebden Bridge which some in film sinister cycle of drug, alcohol andthesuicide refer as ‘A place alcoholic children’ relatedto deaths thatfor form the darker side and ‘A drugBridge town with touristin problem’. to Hebden whicha some the film the withfor himalcoholic taking onchildren’ a very referfilm to asended ‘A place personal saveproblem’. some of and ‘A drugmission town to withtrya and tourist the residents addictive film endedfrom withtheir him taking on ahabits very including ‘Cass’ andto‘Silly’ whosave he formed personal mission try and some ofa strong friendship the residents fromwith. their addictive habits including ‘Cass’ and ‘Silly’ who he formed a strong friendship with.

02 NARRATIVE SPACE | 1984

A SPACE FOR '1984' dis·com·fort

The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too brother large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. On eachbig landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures, which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.

totalitarianism

“He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses?”

torture 101 “There was a small bookcase in the other corner, and Winston had already gravitated towards it. It contained nothing but rubbish. The hunting-down and destruction of books had been done with the same thoroughness in the prole quarters as everywhere else. It was very unlikely that there existed anywhere in Oceania a copy of a book printed earlier than 1960.” “Presumably he was in the Ministry of Love, but there was no way of making certain. He was in a high-ceilinged windowless cell with walls of glittering white porcelain. Concealed lamps flooded it with cold light, and there was a low, steady humming sound, which he supposed had something to do with the air supply. A bench, or shelf, just wide enough to sit on ran round the wall, broken only by the door and, at the end opposite the door, a lavatory pan with no wooden seat. There were four telescreens, one in each wall.”

Conditioning

indoctrina tion “He had moved a little to one side, so that Winston had a better view of the thing on the table. It was an oblong wire cage with a handle on top for carrying it by. Fixed to the front of it was something that looked like a fencing mask, with the concave side outwards. Although it was three or four metres away from him, he could see that the cage was divided lengthways into two compartments, and that there was some kind of creature in each. They were rats. “ 'I have pressed the first lever,' said O'Brien. 'You understand the construction of this cage. The mask will fit over your head, leaving no exit. When I press this other lever, the door of the cage will slide up. These starving brutes will shoot out of it like bullets. Have you ever seen a rat leap through the air? They will leap on to your face and bore straight into it. Sometimes they attack

physical control

the eyes first. Sometimes they burrow through the cheeks and devour the tongue.'

varicose ulcer

The tiny interior of the shop was in fact uncomfortably full, but there was almost nothing in it of the slightest value. The floorspace was very restricted, because all round the walls were stacked innumerable dusty picture-frames. In the window there were trays of nuts and bolts, worn-out chisels, penknives with broken blades, tarnished watches that did not even pretend to be in going order, and other miscellaneous rubbish. Only on a small table in the corner was there a litter of odds and ends -- lacquered snuffboxes, agate brooches, and the like - which looked as though urban decay they might include something interesting.

The storytelling project was initiated with the design of a storytelling space for two inspired by a piece of literature, '1984' by George Orwell. This dystopian narrative includes a number of themes, two of which are represented in my narrative space. Discomfort and the concept of Control led me to form a space were walls are bending towards the listener, the floor is uneven and the positioning of the two main walls do not allow the listener to look at the narrator, letting him wonder if his on his own or with another individual. From left to right: Collage of the narrative space 1984 theme poster Model details

03 SITE STORYTELLING | WIDER CONTEXT

CALDER VALEY

FLOOD RISK ZONE < 2m

Heptonstall

Hebden Bridge Birchcliffe

Dodd Naze

T0POLOGY SECTION MARKET STREET FLOODED 2007

HEBDEN BRIDGE Known as the ‘Pennine Centre’, Hebden Bridge takes its name from the packhorse bridge over Hebden Water. The town developed in late medieval times as a river crossing and meeting point of packhorse routes. It is a small market town located in the hills of West Yorkshire, which lies deep in the Calder Valley. The town, once famous for its blooming textile industry is now known nationally as a liberal, corky, artistic and creative community (a reputation it acquired with the settling in of hippies in the early 1970’s). A narrative place in its own right, Hebden Bridge and the wider area around it is immersed in literary history, making it a suitable location for a Storytelling Centre .

INDUSTRIAL EVOLUTION AND EXPANSION

THE CONFLUENCE: HEBDEN WATER CANAL & RIVER CALDER

Textiles have been important in the Upper Calder Valley for centuries, but it was not until mechanisation and steam power were introduced from the late 18th century that Hebden Bridge began to grow significantly. The arrival of the canal and railway attracted industry to the valley bottoms, but with limited flat land and a growing army of textile workers, dwellings were ingeniously built on the valley side.

There has been a long history of flooding within the Calder CFMP area. The most damaging floods occurred in July 2007 when over 1,700 properties across the catchment flooded from surface water, sewers and rivers. In June 2000 over 700 properties flooded including properties in Todmorden and Hebden Bridge from rivers. In periods of heavy rainfall when both watercourses are swollen, the angle at which they meet is a recipe for disaster. Huge whorls form, with water circling round and round rather than flowing downstream. This causes an impediment, backing up water into the city. The site at Old Gate Str sits just outside the Flood Risk Zone, which means that the danger of flood damage is not great, but a few mm of water might still penetrate the building for a few hours.

NEW MODERN BUILDING

03 SITE STORYTELLING | HEBDEN BRIDGE TYPOLOGIES THE STEEP HILL TO HEPTONSTALL VILLAGE AND THE ABANDONED FORMER PUB “THE HOLE IN THE WALL”

THE SITE IS AN AREA ATTACHED TO THE TERRACES, WHICH WAS A RECENTLY DEMOLISHED TEXTILES WAREHOUSE

THE WHITE SWAN PUB AND BAR / RESTAURANT

THREE STOREY RESIDENTIAL TERRACES

PUBLIC SPACE AND STEPS LEADING TO CANAL

CAR PARK AND COMMERCIAL BUILDINGS ACROSS THE CANAL

03 S TE STORYTELL NG S TE LOCAT ON

GLOBE

UNITED KINDGOM

WEST YORKSHIRE

an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people’s windows. The patrols did 4 1984not matter, however. O Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind W Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vi- sion which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste—this was London, chief city of Airstrip O One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of O Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The M Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, M in Newspeak [New- speak was the official language of O Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology see Appendix.]—was star- tlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where W Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The M Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory M Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The M Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the M Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: M Minitrue, M Minipax, M Miniluv, and M Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark-coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow’s breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medi- cine. Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked VICTORY O CIGARETTES G and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out on to the floor. W With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he took For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which W Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, W Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had sugge But it had also been suggested by the book that he had It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were strik- ing thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from enter- ing along with him. smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and rugged- ly handsome features. W Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was sel- dom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of fig-ures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguish- able. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people’s windows. The patrols did 4 1984not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vi- sion which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste—this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, in Newspeak [New- speak was the official language of Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology see Appendix.]—was star- tlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where W Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: M Minitrue, M Minipax, M Miniluv, and M Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark-coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow’s breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medi- cine. Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked VICTORY CIGARETTES and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out on to the floor. W With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he took For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, W Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had sugge But it had also been suggested by the book that he hadIt was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were strik- ing thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from enter- ing along with him. smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and rugged- ly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was sel- dom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of fig-ures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguish- able. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people’s windows. The patrols did 4 1984not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vi- sion which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste—this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, in Newspeak [New- speak was the official language of Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology see Appendix.]—was star- tlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where W Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory M Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The M Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the M Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark-coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow’s breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medi- cine. Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked VICTORY CIGARETTES and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out on to the floor. With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he took O G For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which W Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, W Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had sugge But it had also been suggested by the book that he hadIt was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were strik- ing thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from enter- ing along with him. smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and rugged- ly handsome features. W Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was sel- dom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of fig-ures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. W Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguish- able. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people’s windows. The patrols did 4 1984not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vi- sion which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste—this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, in Newspeak [New- speak was the official language of Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology see Appendix.]—was star- tlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory M Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The M Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the M Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark-coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow’s breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medi- cine. O G Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked VICTORY CIGARETTES and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out on to the floor. With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he took For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which W Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had sugge But it had also been suggested by the book that he had It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were strik- ing thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from enter- ing along with him. W who was thirty-nine and had smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and rugged- ly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was sel- dom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of fig-ures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguish- able. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people’s windows. The patrols did 4 1984not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vi- sion which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the M Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste—this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. W Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, in Newspeak [New- speak was the official language of Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology see Appendix.]—was star- tlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The M Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The M Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The M Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the M Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the M Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark-coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow’s breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medi- cine. Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked VICTORY CIGARETTES and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out on to the floor. With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he took For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had sugge But it had also been suggested by the book that he had It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were strik- ing thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from enter- ing along with him. smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and rugged- ly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was sel- dom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of fig-ures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguish- able. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people’s windows. The patrols did 4 1984not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vi- sion which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste—this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The M Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, M in Newspeak [New- speak was the official language of O Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology see Appendix.]—was star- tlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The M Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four M Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The M Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. W Winston had never been inside the M Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it. It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla-faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons. W Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advis- able to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the M Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark-coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow’s breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY O GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice-spirit. W G Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medi- cine. Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club. The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful. He took a cigarette from a crumpled packet marked VICTORY CIGARETTES and incautiously held it upright, whereupon the tobacco fell out on to the floor. With the next he was more successful. He went back to the living-room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen. From the table drawer he took For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual ge- ography of the room that had sugge But it had also been suggested by the book that he had It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were strik- ing thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from enter- ing along with him. smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and rugged- ly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was sel- dom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG IS W WATCHING G BROTHER O G YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of fig-ures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. W Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguish- able. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his fa G O W G O W

THE OLD HEBDEN BR DGE

HEBDEN BRIDGE

OLD GATE STR.

PUBL C STEPS

TO THE TRA N STAT ON

DEMOLISHION WHAT USED TO BE A CORDROY FACTORY

S TE PLAN 750

THE S TE

ROUTES LEAD NG TO THE S TE

SITE LOCATION

C TY CENTER & MARKETPLACE

HEBDEN BECK CANAL

03 SITE STORYTELLING | DYNAMICS AND ENVIRONMENTAL OBSERVATIONS

HEBDEN BRIDGE URBAN DYNAMICS

SUNPATHS AND OVERSHADOWING

SUBTLE

The site is located at very close proximity to the city centre. The opposite side of the canal is mainly dedicated to commercial use, pubs and restaurants for visitors and residents to enjoy. The old Hebden bridge provides easy access from the Market to the site at Old Gate Str.

ABANDONED / VACANT

RESIDENTIAL

DEMOLISHED

SHIIFTING

PUBS / CENTERS / CIVIC

SUNPATH CONSIDERATIONS

COMMERCIAL

The site is overshadowed by buildings on the opposite of the canal and significantly by the adjacent three storey residential building. Sunpath considerations influenced the internal allocation of spaces:

RIVER

Left side: darker > location of the Main Storytelling space to create contrast and drama with artificial lighting

ROADS/ BRIDGES

Above the adjacent building level: minimum overshadowing > Accomondation spaces (2nd Floor)

SUN PATH

City Centre

Trees on the cliff wind barrier

Buildings and trees wind barriers accoustic barriers Sound from the canal [+], ducks & Sound from pigeons one way street [-]

kicking his heel violently against the rung of his chair. The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was a and at such moments his heart went out to the lonely, derided heretic on the screen, sole guardian of truth and sanity in a world of lies. And yet the very next instant he was at one with the people about him, and all that was said of Goldstein seemed to s hatred this way or that by a voluntary act. Suddenly, by the sort of violent effort with which one wrenches one you to encircle it with your arm, there was only the odious scarlet sash, aggressive symbol of chastity. The Hate rose to its climax. The voice of Goldstein had become an actual sheep’s bleat, and for an instant the face changed into that of a sheep. Then the sheep-face melted into the figure of a Eurasian sold O’Brien, a member ofdistinguishable the Inner Partyindividually and holderbut of restoring some confidence by the fact of being spoken. Then the face of Big Brother faded away again, and instead the three slogans of the Party stood out in bold capitals: post so important and remote that Winston had only a dim idea of its nature. A momentary hush passed over the group of people round the chairs as they saw the black overalls of an Inner Party member approaching. O’Brien was a large, burly man with a thick neck and a coarse, humorous, brutal face. In spite of his

Most overshadowing

Right side: more natural light > location of the Library and Literature workshop

WIND AND NOISE SITE BARRIERS

Wind

Least overshadowing:

ther person was a man named O’Brien, a member of the Inner Party and holder of some post so important and remote that Winston had only a dim idea of its nature. A momentary hush passed over the group of people round the chairs as they saw the black overalls of an Inner Party member approaching. O’Brien was a large, burly man with a thick neck and a coarse, humorous, brutal face. In spite of his formidable appearance he had a certain charm of manner. He had a trick of resettling his spectacles on his nose which was curiously disarming — in some indefinable way, curiously civilized. It was a gesture which, if anyone had still thought in such terms, might have recalled an eighteenth-century nobleman offering his snuffbox. Winston had seen O

NATURAL ACOUSTICS OF THE AREA Pigeons: across the bank pigeons are found in clusters almost during the entire day and are fed by people on the public steps,

Site

Ducks: can be heard from the site moving along the canal and the bank The canal flow (Hebden Beck): the stream runs from North East to South West. The canal is shallow but it is constantly flowing and provides positive sound to the surrounding buildings.

Buildings responsible for overshadowing

03 SITE STORYTELLING | PREVIOUS USE OF SITE

CONCEPTUAL DRIVE ELEVATION OF EXISTING GABLE

TEXTURES OF DEMOLISHION

FROM RUIN TO FOCAL POINT The ruins and textures of the old gable caught my eye, drew me in and narrated the story of the demolished building. The gable would become a focal point for the storytelling centre.

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY | ACTIVITIES AND USERS

A STORYTELLING CENTRE ADDRESSING LOCAL COMMUNITY

WiFi Hotspot OCCASION: STORYTELLING EVENT

METROPOLITAN COMMUTERS

USERS: GENERAL AUDIENCE

NARRATE IT!

SOCIALIZE

EXPERIENCE THE STORY

Q & A SESSION USEFUL STORYTELLING TIPS

BRADFORD

CREATE YOU OWN STORY

HALIFAX

HEBDEN BRIDGE

LEEDS MANCHESTER

WiFi Hotspot

OCCASION:

EVERYDAY OCCUPANCY

USERS:

STUDENTS JOURNALISTS WRITERS TELECOMMUTERS iWORKERS

BORROW LAPTOP OR TABLET

READ / STUDY / WORK ONLINE

SPACE ALLOCATION COLOUR CODE DIAGRAMS

EXPERIENCE THE STORY

STORYTELLING SPACE

SOCIALIZE

LIBRARY AND READING AREA CAFE / BAR INFORMATION POINT / IT

MEZZ QUIET READING AREA TOILETS

WiFi Hotspot OCCASION:

1ST

STORYTELLING EVENTS

BOOKSHOP

USERS:

GENERATIVE LITERATURE WORKSHOP ALTERNATIVE STORYTELLING SPACE

VISITING STORYTELLERS

2ND INTIMATE STORYTELLING SPACE FOR 2 TERRACE BAR

SOCIALIZE

PERFORM / NARRATE

Q & A SESSION USEFUL STORYTELLING TIPS

EXTRENAL FESTIVAL VIEWING PLATFORM

REST AND SLEEP IN STUDIO

VISITORS' STUDIOS AND SITTING & DINING SPACE

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY | STRATEGIES & DEVELOPMENT

HEBDEN BECK CANAL

SITE STRATEGY WORKING WITH EXISTING SITE ELEMENTS FROM CONCEPT DESIGN

The limits of my proposal where set by existing site elements; the gable wall of the adjecent 3-storey residential property and the cliff behind the site supported by a retaining wall. MAIN STORYTELLING SPACE

DRIVE

Engagement with the wall is demonstrated through the gable drop, which sets the limits of the main storytelling space on ground floor.

SKETCH MODEL INITIAL ARRANGEMENT OF SPACES

3 1

INITIAL MODELS

SKETCH 1 LIBRARY 2 MAIN STORYTELLING 3 WORKSHOP 4 ACCOMMODATION 5 INTIMATE STORYTELLING

Testing connections with the existing gable wall. A transparent strip of cladding next to the gable will allow passers by to peer in and raise their curiosity for storytelling activites.

INTERACTION WITH THE OLD GABLE PROCESS MODEL

STORYTELLING

LIBRARY & READING AND RELAXATION AREA

INITIAL CONCEPTUAL COLLAGES OF KEY SPACES

LIBRARY & READING

CAFE / BAR “THE CREATIVITY FACTORY” LITERATURE WORKSHOP

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY | PROCESS & CIRCULATION

ACCESSIBILITY

VERTICAL CIRCULATION & VIEWING BALCONIES

Private

A main concept of the proposal is the vertical circulation staircase, which creates landings/balconies which interact visually with the old gable.

Bookable Public

STORYTELLIING CENTER INTERACTIONS WITH MAIN CIRCULATION CORE

INTIMATE STORYTELLING TOWER

ACCOMODATION FOR ONE

Intimate storytelling space

THE CREATIVITY FACTORY GENERATIVE LITERATURE WORKSHOP

OVERLOOKING BALCONIES

Accommodation

MAIN STORYTELLING AREA

LIBRARY & READING SPACES MAIN CIRCULATION CORE

Bookshop Concept collage Literature workshop Quiet reading space Toilets Main stage Bar/Info point Library

Precedents: (from left to right) Elementary School, Aesch University of St. Gallen, Switzerland

Sketch models exploring the central circulation

The main staircase creates visual links to the gable at all levels

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY | COLOUR CODING STRATEGY “THE BULDING IS NOT DECORATED BY COLOUR BUT BUILT OF IT”' - LE CORBUSIER INFLUENCIAL PRECEDENTS

THE BUILDING IS DEMONSTRATING THE SPACE

THROUGH

COLOUR

DYNAMIC

CODING

ORIENTATION TO ALL ACTIVITIES.

CHARACTER OF EACH WHILE PROVIDING CLEAR

AND

SYSTEM

STRUCTURE & ENVELOPE By DAY, the regular activities of of the 'Storytelling Factory' including storytelling events, study and teleworking and workshops are semi-visible through the walls from the outside. By NIGHT, the Polycarbonate panels it acts as a lantern or beacon, radiating light out onto the immediate

GALLERY SOLAR by Manuel Maya Gomez Pigmented concrete surfaces offer a sense of excitement to visitors.

LABAN SCHOOL OF DANCE

BLACK:STEEL FRAME

WHITE: POLYCARBONATE PANELS

THE ESSENTIAL STRUCTURAL ELEMENT.

THE NULLITY AGAINST WHICH EVERYTHING ELSE STANDS OUT.

The design was conceived as a physical expression of Laban’s relationship with its local community a vibrant inspiring focal point, accessible and welcoming to all.

PURITY AND INNOSENCE

Colors determine the rhythm and orientation both inside and outside the building.

INTERIOR

The use of colour used in the interior is an expression of the centre's relationship with its creative local community a vibrant inspiring focal point, accessible and welcoming to all. PURPLE: STORYTELLYING SPACE THE COLOUR OF THE IMAGINATION CREATIVE AND INDIVIDUAL

GREEN: BOOKSHOP THE NEW, THE LIVELY COOLNESS & COMFORT

WISDOM & TRUTH

View from the Library area looking up to the Literature workshop/ Alternative Storytelling room. According to the space’s use, the different colour slabs orientate the visitors through the building while creating a sense of curiosity for what exists above.

LIBRARY AND READING INCREASES PRODUCTIVITY AND CLEAR THOUGHT REPESENTS RELAXATION & THE INTELLECT COMMUNICATION AND THE SOCIAL MEDIA

RED: WORKSHOP, Q&A SESSIONS & ALTERNATIVE STORIES IT REPRESENTS ENERGY, EXCITEMENT, PASSION, ACTIVE , POSITIVE, EXCITING. ASSOCIATED WITH REVOLUTION

GREY: SERVICES & STUDIOS FOR VISITORS REPRESENTS THE MACHINELIKE, INDUSTRIAL AESTHETIC

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY GROUND FLOOR PLAN FACTORY 04 THE STORYTELLING GROUND FLOOR

1:200 04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY | 1:100

1. Main Storytelling Space 2. Storage 3. Cafe/Bar 4.Information Point/IT 5. Library and Reading Space

SPACE ALLOCATION COLOUR CODE DIAGRAM

GF STORYTELLING SPACE LIBRARY AND READING AREA CAFE / BAR INFORMATION POINT / IT STORAGE CIRCULATION

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY PLANS 1:200 7

SPACE ALLOCATION COLOUR CODE DIAGRAM

MEZZ QUIET READING AREA TOILETS

6. Quiet Reading Area 7. Toilets

CIRCULATION ALTERNATIVE STORYTELLING SPACE

SPACE ALLOCATION COLOUR CODE DIAGRAM

1ST BOOKSHOP

8. Bookshop and Printers 9. Storytelling Workshop/ Alternative Storytelling Space

ALTERNATIVE STORYTELLING SPACE STORYTELLING WORKSHOP ALTERNATIVE STORYTELLING SPACE CIRCULATION

SPACE ALLOCATION COLOUR CODE DIAGRAM

13 2ND INTIMATE STORYTELLING SPACE FOR 2 TERRACE BAR

10. Intimate Storytelling Space 11. Kitchen/ Lounge Space 12. Studios for Visiting Storytellers 13. Festival Viewing Terrace

TERRACE BAR EXTRENAL FESTIVAL VIEWING PLATFORM VISITORS' STUDIOS, SITTING & DINING SPACE CIRCULATION

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY CONTEXT SECTION A-A 1:200

ECAEP SI RA YREVALS SI MODEER HTGNERTS SI ECNARON

,vuliniM ,xapiniM ,eurtiniM :kaepsweN ni ,seman riehT .sriaffa cimonoce rof elbisnopser saw hcihw ,ytnelP fo yrtsiniM eht dnA .redro dna wal deniatniam hcihw ,evoL fo yrtsiniM ehT .raw htiw flesti denrecnoc hcihw ,ecaeP fo yrtsiniM ehT .stra enfi eht dna ,noitacude ,tnemniatretne ,swen htiw flesti denrecnoc hcihw ,hturT fo yrtsiniM ehT .dedivid saw tnemnrevog fo sutarappa eritne eht hcihw neewteb seirtsiniM ruof eht fo semoh eht erew yehT .ylsuoenatlumis meht fo ruof lla ees dluoc uoy snoisnaM yrotciV fo foor eht morf taht erutcetihcra gnidnuorrus eht frawd yeht did yletelpmoc oS .ezis dna ecnaraeppa ralimis fo sgnidliub rehto eerht tsuj erew ereht nodnoL tuoba derettacS .woleb snoitacfiimar gnidnopserroc dna ,level dnuorg evoba smoor dnasuoht eerht ,dias saw ti ,deniatnoc hturT fo yrtsiniM eh .snoehcnurt detnioj htiw demra ,smrofinu kcalb ni sdraug decaf-allirog yb demaor erew sreirrab retuo sti ot pu gnidael steerts eht nevE .stsen nug-enihcam neddih dna ,srood leets ,stnemelgnatne eriw-debrab fo ezam a hguorht gnitartenep yb ylno neht dna ,ssenisub laicffio no tpecxe retne ot elbissopmi ecalp a saw tI .ti fo ertemolik a flah nihtiw ron ,evoL fo yrtsiniM eht edisni neeb reven dah notsniW .lla ta ti ni swodniw on erew erehT .eno gninethgirf yllaer eht saw evoL fo yrtsiniM eh .enicidem fo esod a ekil nwod ti deplug dna ,kcohs a rof flesmih devren ,lufpucaet a ylraen tuo deruop notsniW .tirips-ecir esenihC fo sa ,llems ylio ,ylkcis a ffo evag tI .NIG YROTCIV dekram lebal etihw nialp a htiw diuqil sselruoloc fo elttob a flehs eht morf nwod koot eH .tsafkaerb s’worromot rof devas eb ot tog dah hcihw daerb deruoloc-krad fo knuh a tpecxe nehctik eht ni doof on saw ereht taht erawa saw eh dna ,neetnac eht ni hcnul sih decfiircas dah eh yad fo emit siht ta yrtsiniM eht gnivael yB .nehctik ynit eht otni moor eht dessorc eH .neercselet eht gnicaf nehw raew ot elbasivda saw ti hcihw msimitpo teiuq fo noisserpxe eht otni serutaef sih tes dah eH .yltpurba dnuor denrut notsni .revoc delbram a dna kcab der a htiw koob knalb dezis-otrauq ,kciht a dna ,kni fo elttob a ,redlohnep a tuo koot eh reward elbat eht morF .neercselet eht fo tfel eht ot doots taht elbat llams a ta nwod tas dna moor-gnivil eht ot kcab tnew eH .lufsseccus erom saw eh txen eht htiW .roofl eht ot no tuo llef occabot eht nopuerehw ,thgirpu ti dleh ylsuoituacni dna SETTERAGIC YROTCIV dekram tekcap delpmurc a morf etteragic a koot eH .lufreehc erom kool ot nageb dlrow eht dna nwod deid ylleb sih ni gninrub eht ,revewoh ,tnemom txen ehT .bulc rebbur a htiw daeh eht fo kcab eht no tih gnieb fo noitasnes eht dah eno ti gniwollaws ni ,revoerom dna ,dica cirtin ekil saw ffuts ehT .seye sih fo tuo nar retaw eht dna telracs denrut ecaf sih yltnats .od ot tuoba won saw eh taht gniht eht mih ot detseggus dah taht moor eht fo yhpargoeg lausunu eht yltrap saw tI .nees eb ton dluoc eh noitisop tneserp sih ni deyats eh sa gnol os tub ,esruoc fo ,draeh eb dluoc eH .tnew thgis sa raf os ,neercselet eht fo egnar eht edistuo niamer ot elba saw notsniW ,kcab llew gnipeek dna ,evocla eht ni gnittis yB .sevlehskoob dloh ot dednetni neeb ylbaborp dah ,tliub erew stafl eht nehw ,hcihw dna ,gnittis won saw notsniW hcihw ni evocla wollahs a saw ereht ti fo edis eno oT .wodniw eht etisoppo ,llaw regnol eht ni saw ti ,moor elohw eht dnammoc dluoc ti erehw ,llaw dne eht ni ,lamron saw sa ,decalp gnieb fo daetsnI .noitisop lausunu na ni saw moor-gnivil eht ni neercselet eht nosaer emos ro ofk some g dah eH .yaw rehto yna ni fo dloh teg ot elbissopmi saw ti hcihw ,sedalb rozar dna secaleoThe hs sanext hcusmoment ,sgniht sauohideous, irav eregrinding w ereht espeech, suaceb as ,tpe yltcirtmonstrous s ton saw emachine lur eht turunning b ,)dellawithout c saw toil, i ,’tburst ekramfrom eerfthe ehtbig no telescreen gnilaed‘( spatohthe s yrend anidof ro the otniroom. og ot Ittowas n deasonoise ppus that erewset sreone bmem ytraP .ti ssessop ot erised gnimlehwrevo na yb yletaidemmi nekcirts neeb dah dna )rebmemer won ton did eh retrauq tahw tsuj( nwot eht fo retrauq ymmuls a ni pohs-knuj elttil ysworf a fo wodniw eht ni gniyl ti nees dah eH .taht naht redlo hcum saw koob eht taht ,revewoh ,sseug dluoc eH .tsap sraey ytrof tsael ta rof derutcafunam neeb ton dah taht dnik a fo saw ,ega yb dewolley elttil a ,repap ymaerc htooms stI .koob lufituaeb ylrailucep a saw tI .reward eht fo tuo nekat tsuj dah eh taht koob eht yb detseggus neeb osla dah ti tu As usual, theofface of Emmanuel the Enemy of the People, had flashed on to the screen. There were hisses here and there among the audience. The little sandy-haired woman gave a squeak of mingled fear and disgust. Goldstein was the renegade and b a coarse, humorous, brutal face. In spite of his formidable appearance he had a certain charm manner. He had aGoldstein, trick .noissessop gnisimorpmoc a saw ti ,ti ni nettirw gnihton htiw nevE .esacfeirb sih ni emoh ylitliug ti deirrac dah eH .esoprup ralucitrap yna rof ti gnitnaw fo suoicsnoc ton saw eh emit eht tA .ytffi srallod owt rof koob eht thguob dna edisni deppils dah neht dna teerts eht nwod dna p acts of sabotage, heresies, deviations, sprang directly out of his teaching. Somewhere or other he was still alive and hatching his conspiracies: perhaps somewhere beyond sea, which .esopruof p tresettling neserp sihhis rofspectacles elbissopmion esrhis uocnose fo sa w hciwas hw ecuriously tirw-kaepdisarming s eht otni — gnin ihtsome yreve indefinable etatcid ot lway, ausu curiously saw ti ,secivilized. ton trohs Ityrwas ev maorf trapA .dnah yb gnitirw ot desu ton saw eh yllautcA .licnep-kni na htiw dehctarcs gnieb fo daetsni bin laer a htiw no nettirw eb ot dthe evre sedunder repapthe ymprotection aerc lufituaofebhisehforeign t taht gpaymasters, nileef a fo esperhaps uaceb yleven pmis ,— ytlso ucffiitidwas emoos htiw dna ylevitruf ,eno derucorp dah eh dna ,serutangis rof neve desu modles ,tnemurtsni ciahcra na saw nep ehT .ffo esaerg eht teg ot ti dekcus dna redlohnep eht otni bin a dettfi notsniW .pmac ruobal-decrof a ni sraey evfi-ytnewt yb tsael ta ro ,htaed yb dehsinup eb dluow ti taht niatrec ylbanosaer saw ti detceted fi tub ,)swal yna regnol on erew ereht ecnis ,lagelli saw gnihton( lagelli ton saw sihT .yraid a nepo ot saw od ot tuoba saw eh taht gniht eh s diaphragm wasoffering constricted. gesture which, if anyone had still thought in such terms, might have recalled an eighteenth-century nobleman his He could never see the face of Goldstein without a painful mixture of emotions. It was a lean Jewi :etorw eh srettel ysmulc llams nI .tca evisiced eht saw repap eht kram oT .slewob sih hguorht enog dah romert A .dnoces a tsuj rof deretlaf neht dna kni eht ot of the Party,tohe was demanding the immediate conclusion of peace with Eurasia, he was advocating freedom of speech, freedom of the Press, freedom of assembly, freedom of thought, he was crying hysterically that the revolution had been betray snuffbox. Winston had seen O’Brien perhaps a dozen times in almost as many years.dictatorship He felt deeply drawn him, and not .4891 ,ht4 lirp and his vanished, to be replaced by others exactly similar. The dull rhythmic tramp of the soldiers’ boots formed the background to Goldstein solely because he was intrigued by the contrast between O’Brien’s urbane manner and prize-fighter .owt ro raey a nihtiw etad yna nwod nip ot syadawon elbissop reven saw ti tub ;5491 ro 4491 ni nrob neeb dah eh taht deveileb eh dna ,enin-ytriht saw ega sih taht erus ylriaf saw eh ecnis ,etad taht tuoba dnuor eb tsum tI .4891 saw siht taht ytniatrec yna htiw wonk ton did eh ,htiw nigeb oT .mih nopu dednecsed dah ssensselpleh etelpmoc fo esnes A .kcab tas e Before the—Hate oftthe more it was because of a secretly held belief — or perhaps not even a belief, merely a hope that had O proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room. The self-satisfied .sselgninaem sheep-like eb dluow tface nemaon cidthe erp screen, sih dnaand ,ti mthe orf tterrifying nereffid epower b dluow i ro Eurasian :mih ot nearmy tsil tonbehind dluow it,ti were esac too hcihm w ni ,tneserp eht elbmeser dluow erutuf eht rehtiE .elbissopmi erutan sti fo saw tI ?erutuf eht htiw etacinummoc uoy dluoc woH .mih ot emoh emac nekatrednu dah eh tahw fo edutingam eht emit tsrfi eht roF .KNIHTELBUOD drow kaepsweN eht tsniaga pmub a htiw pu dehctef neht dna ,egap eht no etad luftbuod eht dnuor tnemom a rof derevoh dnim siH .nrobnu eht rof ,erutuf eht roF ?yraid siht gnitirw eh saw ,rednow ot mih ot derrucco ylneddus ti ,mohw ro never to .sbe Something inlahisti face was nikcit ereorthodoxy w sdnoceswas ehTnot .deperfect. maflni em aceb syaw os didsuggested eh fi esuaitceirresistibly. b ,ti hctarcAnd s tonagain, derarubbish dperhaps eH .ythat lbaitrathey ebnnot uwere gneven ihc—tiinnunorthodoxy uspite geb dofahallrethis, clu ehis socinfluence irav sih re voeroseemed M .pu deto irdgrow dah less. eugoAlways lonom ethere ht nevwere e ,revfresh ewohdupes ,tnemowaiting m siht tA raeseduced y rof yllaby rethim. il ,daAehday sih never edisni passed gninnur when neeb spies dah taand ht esaboteurs ugolonom acting sseltserunder elbanhis imrdirections etni eht rewere pap onot t reunmasked fsnart ot saby w the od oThought t dah ehPo llA .ysae eb dluow gnitirw lautca ehT .egaruoc tpecxe dedeen eb dluow gnihtyna taht dnim sih dessorc reven dah ti dna ,tnemom siht rof ydaer gnikam neeb dah eh tsap skeew roF .yas ot dednetni yllanigiro dah eh taht saw ti tahw nettogrof evah ot neve tub ,flesmih gnisserpxe fo rewop eht tsol evah ot ylerem ton demees eh taht suoiruc saw tI .cisum yratilim tnedirts ot revo degnahc dah neercselet ehT .repap eht ta yldiputs gnizag tas eh emit emos ro .nig eht yb desuac ssenizoob thgils a dna ,cisum eht fo gniralb eht ,elkna sih evoba niks eht fo gnihcti eht ,mih fo tnorf ni egap eht fo ssenknalb eht tpecxe gnihton fo suoicsno that Winston had only a dim idea of its nature. A momentary hush passed over the group of people round the chairs as :spots lluf sti neve yllanfi dna srettel latipac sti tsrfi gniddehs ,egap eht nwod dna pu delggarts gnitirwdnah hsidlihc tub llams siH .nwod gnittes saw eh tahw fo erawa yltcefrepmi ylno ,cinap reehs ni gnitirw nageb eh ylneddu ston had only a dim idea of its nature. A momentary hush passed over the group of people round the chairs as black Party O’Brien large, reh neewteb daeh sih gnidih dna thgirf htiw gnimaercs yob elttil .smra reh ni dlo sraey eerht tuoba yob elttil a htiw wob eht nthey i pu gsaw nittithe s sse wej aoveralls neeb evofahanthInner gim na mow member dega-eldapproaching. dim a saw ere ht .ti revwas o gnaire voh reburly tpocman ileh awith htiwanthick erdlihneck c fo land luf taobefil a was uoy neht .knas eh nehw rethgual htiw gnituohs ecneidua ,retaw eht ni tel dah seloh eht hguoht sa ylneddus sa knas eh dna knip denrut mih dnuor aes eht dna seloh fo lluf saw eh neht ,sthgisnug sretpocileh eht hguorht mih was uoy neht ,esioprop a ekil retaw eht ni gnola gniwollaw mih was uoy tsrfi ,mih retfa retpocileh a htiw yawa miws ot gniyrt nam taf eguh taerg a fo stohs yb desuma hcum ecneiduA .naenarretideM eht ni erehwemos debmob gnieb seegufer fo lluf pihs a fo eno doog yrev enO .smlfi raw llA .skcifl eht ot thgin tsaL .4891 ,ht4 lirp the black overalls of an Inner Party member approaching. O’Brien was a large, burly man with a thick neck and appearance He yna esoppus tnod i tuo reh denrut reh denrut ecilop eht litnu tnia ti sdik fo tnorf ni ton thgir tnia ti tndid yeht sdik fo tnorf ni toancoarse, ti dewohumorous, hs fo rethgbrutal uo tndface. id yehInt spite gnituoof hs his dnaformidable ssuf a pu g nikcik detrathe s yhad lneda ducertain s esuohcharm eht fo of tramanner. p elorp e ht had ni nwaodtrick namow a tub staes ytrap eht morf esualppa fo tol a saw ereht dna pu ti dewollof evah tsum eson sti ni aremac a htiw retpocileh a ria eht otni pu thgir pu pu pu gniog mra s’dlihc a fo tohs lufrednow a saw ereht neht .doowhctam ot lla tnew taob eht dna hsafl cfiirret meht gnoma ni bmob olik 02 a detnalp retpocileh eht neht .mih ffo stellub eht peek dluoc smra reh thguoht ehs fi sa elbissop sa hcum sa pu mih gnirevoc emit eht lla ,flesreh thgirf htiw eulb saw ehs hguohtla mih gnitrofmoc dna mih dnuor smra reh gnittup namow eht dna reh otni thgir worrub ot gniyr , humorous, brutal face. In spite of his formidable appearance he had a certain charm of manner. He had a trick of resettling his spectacles on his nose which was curiously disarming — in some indefinable way, curiously civilized. It was a —— reven yeht noitcaer elorp lacipyt yas selorp eht tahw serac ydobon re ing his spectacles on his nose which was curiously disarming — in some indefinable way, curiously civilized. It was a gesture which, if anyone had still thought in such terms, might have recalled an eighteenth-century nobleman offering his .yadot yraid eht nigeb dna emoh emoc ot dediced ylneddus dah eh taht tnedicni rehto siht fo esuaceb ,dezilaer won eh ,saw tI .nwod ti gnitirw ot lauqe tlef tsomla eh erehw tniop eht ot ,dnim sih ni flesti defiiralc dah yromem tnereffid yllatot a os gniod saw eh elihw taht saw gniht suoiruc eht tuB .hsibbur fo maerts siht tuo ruop mih edam dah tahw wonk ton did eH .pmarc morf gnireffus saw eh esuaceb yltrap ,gnitirw deppots notsni which, if anyone had still thought in such terms, might have recalled an eighteenth-century nobleman offering his snuffbox. Winston had seen O’Brien perhaps a dozen times in almost as many years. He felt deeply drawn to him, and not .neppah ot dias eb dluoc suoluben os gnihtyna fi ,yrtsiniM eht ta gninrom taht deneppah dah Winston s dna ,echad af dseen elkceO’Brien rf a ,riah perhaps kciht htiwa,ndozen eves-yttimes newt tin uobalmost a fo ,lrias g gmany nikool-years. dlob a He sawfelt ehSdeeply .senihcadrawn m gnitito rw-him, levonand eht not fo eno solely no bojbecause lacinahcehe m was emointrigued s dah ehsby — the renncontrast aps a gnbetween iyrrac dnO’Brien’s a sdnah yurbane lio htiw manner reh neesand semhis iteprize-fighter’s mos dah eh ecphysique. nis — ylbaMuch muserP .tnemtrapeD noitciF eht ni dekrow ehs taht wenk eh tub ,eman reh wonk ton did eH .srodirroc eht ni dessap netfo eh mohw lrig a saw meht fo enO .moor eht otni yldetcepxenu emac ,ot nekops reven dah tub ,thgis yb wenk eh mohw elpoep owt nehw swor elddim eht fo eno ni ecalp sih gnikat tsuj saw notsniW .etaH setuniM owT eht rof noitaraperp ni ,neercselet gib eht etisoppo llah eht fo ertnec eht ni meht gnipuorg dna selcibuc eht fo tuo sriahc eht gniggard erew yeht ,dekrow notsniW erehw ,tnemtrapeD sdroceR eht ni dna ,derdnuh nevele ylraen saw secretly cause thenacontrast essaphe yewas ht neintrigued hw ecnO by .tsom ht suoregbetween nad eromO’Brien’s gnieb fo nurbane oisserpmmanner i eht mihand evahis g lrprize-fighter’s ig ralucitrap sihphysique. t tuB .yxodMuch ohtronu fo tmore uo-sreitsowas n dnbecause a seips ruofetaam a eht ,sheld nagobelief ls fo sr— eworollperhaps aws eht ,not ytraeven P ehtafobelief, stneremerely hda deatohope gib ts— omthat ehtO’Brien’s erew ohwpolitical ,seno gnuoy eht lla evoba dna ,nemow eht syawla saw tI .seno ytterp dna gnuoy eht yllaicepse dna ,nemow lla ylraen dekilsid eH .reh htiw tuoba yrrac ot deganam ehs hcihw ssendednim-naelc lareneg dna sekih ytinummoc dna shtab dloc dna sdlefi-yekcoh fo erehpsomta eht fo esuaceb saw tI .nosaer eht wenk eH .reh gniees fo tnemom tsrfi yrev eht morf reh dekilsid dah notsniW .spih reh fo ssenilepahs eht tuo gnirb ot hguone ylthgit tsuj ,sllarevo reh fo tsiaw eht dnuor semit lareves dnuow saw ,eugaeL xeS-itnA roinuJ eht fo melbme ,hsas telracs worran A .stnemevo as because of a secretly held belief — or perhaps not even a belief, merely a hope — that O’Brien’s political .mih raen erehwyna saw ehs revenehw ,ytilitsoh sa llew sa ti ni pu dexim raef dah hcihw ,ssenisaenu railucep a leef ot deunitnoc eh ,llitS .ylekilnu yrev saw ,eurt saw ti ,tahT .eciloP thguohT eht fo tnega na eb thgim ehs taht dnim sih dessorc neve dah aedi ehT .rorret kcalb htiw mih dellfi dah tnemom a rof dna mih otni thgir ecreip ot demees hcihw ecnalg gnoledis kciuq a mih eva sa tsomla ni semit nezod a spahrep neirB’O nees dah notsniW .xobffuns sih gnireffo namelbon yrutnec-htneethgie na dellacer evah thgim ,smret hcus ni thguoht llits dah enoyna fi ,hcihw erutseg a saw tI .dezilivic ylsuoiruc ,yaw elbanfiedni emos ni — gnimrasid ylsuoiruc saw hcihw eson sih no selcatceps sih gniltteser fo kcirt a dah eH .rennam fo mrahc niatrec a dah eh ecnaraeppa elbadimrof sih fo etips nI .ecaf laturb ,suoromuh ,esraoc a dna kcen kciht a htiw nam ylrub ,egral a saw neirB’O .gnihcaorppa rebmem ytraP rennI na fo sllarevo kcalb eht was yeht sa sriahc eht dnuor elpoep fo puorg eht revo dessap hsuh yratnemom A .erutan sti fo aedi mid a ylno dah notsniW taht etomer dna tnatropmi os tsop emos fo redloh dna ytraP rennI eht fo rebmem a ,neirB’O deman nam a saw nosrep rehto eh ot dediced yltnedive dna ,derdnuh nevele ylraen saw ti taht was ,hctaw-tsirw sih ta decnalg neirB’O tnemom siht tA .os gniod fo yaw on saw ereht ,deedni :sseug siht yfirev ot troffe tsellams eht edam reven dah notsniW .enola mih teg dna neercselet eht taehc dluoc uoy wohemos fi ot klat dluoc uoy taht nosrep a gnieb fo ecnaraeppa eht dah eh etar yna ta tuB .ecnegilletni ylpmis tub ,ecaf sih ni nettirw saw taht yxodohtronu neve ton saw ti spahrep ,niaga dnA .ylbitsiserri ti detseggus ecaf sih ni gnihtemoS .tcefrep ton saw yxodohtro lacitilop s’neirB’O taht — epoh a ylerem ,feileb a neve ton spahrep ro — feileb dleh ylterces a fo esuaceb saw ti erom hcuM .euqisyhp s’rethgfi-ezirp sih dna rennam enabru s’neirB’O neewteb tsartnoc eht yb deugirtni saw eh esuaceb ylelos ton dna ,mih ot nward ylpee .dniheb yletaidemmi gnittis saw riah krad htiw lrig ehT .meht neewteb saw notsniW ot elcibuc txen eht ni dekrow ohw namow deriah-ydnas ,llams A .yawa secalp fo elpuoc a ,notsniW sa wor emas eht ni riahc a koot eH .revo saw etaH setuniM owT eht litnu tnemtrape e black overalls of an Inner Party member approaching. O’Brien was a large, burly man with a thick neck and .detrats dah etaH ehT .kcen s’eno fo kcab eht ta riah eht deltsirb dna egde no hteet s’eno tes taht esion a saw tI .moor eht fo dne eht ta neercselet gib eht morf tsrub ,lio tuohtiw gninnur enihcam suortsnom emos fo sa ,hceeps gnidnirg ,suoedih a tnemom txen eh umorous, manner. P eht tsnbrutal iaga sface. emircIntnspite euqeof sbuhis s llformidable A .ytirup s’yappearance traP eht fo rehe lfiehad d tseailrcertain ae eht charm ,rotiart of lam irp eht He sawhad eH a.ertrick ugfi lapicnirp eht ton saw nietsdloG hcihw ni enon saw ereht tub ,yad ot yad morf deirav etaH setuniM owT eht fo semmargorp ehT .deraeppasid dna depacse ylsuoiretsym dah dna ,htaed ot denmednoc neeb dah ,seitivitca yranoitulover-retnuoc ni degagne dah neht dna ,flesmih rehtorB giB htiw level a no tsomla ,ytraP eht fo serugfi gnidael eht fo eno neeb dah ,)derebmemer etiuq ydobon ,oga gnol woh( oga gnol ,ecno ohw redilskcab dna edagener eht saw nietsdloG .tsugsid dna raef delgnim fo kaeuqs a evag namow deriah-ydnas elttil ehT .ecneidua eht gnoma ereht dna ereh sessih erew erehT .neercs eht ot no dehsafl dah ,elpoeP eht fo ymenE eht ,nietsdloG leunammE fo ecaf eht ,lausu s .flesti ainaecO ni ecalp-gnidih emos ni — deruomur yllanoisacco saw ti os — neve spahrep ,sretsamyap ngierof sih fo noitcetorp eht rednu ,aes eht dnoyeb erehwemos spahrep :seicaripsnoc sih gnihctah dna evila llits saw eh rehto ro erehwemoS .gnihcaet sih fo tuo yltcerid gnarps ,snoitaived ,seisereh ,egatobas fo stc w eh ,rehtorB giB gnisuba saw eH .ti yb ni nekat eb thgim ,fleseno naht dedaeh-level ssel ,elpoep rehto taht gnileef demrala na htiw eno llfi ot hguone elbisualp tsuj tey dna ,ti hguorht ees ot elba neeb evah dluohs dlihc a taht esrevrep dna detareggaxe os kcatta na — ytraP eht fo senirtcod eht nopu kcatta suomonev lausu sih gnireviled saw nietsdloG .ytilauq ekil-peehs a dah ,oot ,eciov eht dna ,peehs a fo ecaf eht delbmeser tI .dehcrep saw selcatceps fo riap a hcihw fo dne eht raen ,eson niht gnol eht ni ssenillis elines fo dnik a htiw ,elbacipsed yltnerehni wohemos tey dna ,ecaf revelc a — draeb eetaog llams a dna riah etihw fo eloerua yzzuf taerg a htiw ,ecaf hsiweJ nael a saw tI .snoitome fo erutxim lufniap a tuohtiw nietsdloG fo ecaf eht ees reven dluoc eH .detcirtsnoc saw mgarhpaid s’notsni rus eht ot pu maws ohw ,secaf citaisA sselnoisserpxe htiw nem gnikool-dilos fo wor retfa wor — ymra naisaruE eht fo snmuloc sseldne eht dehcram ereht neercselet eht no daeh sih dniheb ,derevoc partpalc suoiceps s’nietsdloG hcihw ytilaer eht ot sa tbuod yna ni eb dluohs eno tsel ,elihw eht lla dnA .efil laer ni esu yllamron dluow rebmem ytraP yna naht ,deedni ,sdrow kaepsweN erom :sdrow kaepsweN deniatnoc neve dna ,ytraP eht fo srotaro eht fo elyts lautibah eht fo ydorap fo tros a saw hcihw hceeps ciballysylop dipar ni siht lla dna — deyarteb neeb dah noitulover eht taht yllaciretsyh gniyrc saw eh ,thguoht fo modeerf ,ylbmessa fo modeerf ,sserP eht fo modeerf ,hceeps fo modeerf gnitacovda saw eh ,aisaruE htiw ecaep fo noisulcnoc etaidemmi eht gnidnamed saw eh ,ytraP eht fo pihsrotatci .eciov gnitaelb s’nietsdloG ot dnuorgkcab eht demrof stoob ’sreidlos eht fo pmart cimhtyhr llud ehT .ralimis yltcaxe srehto yb decalper eb ot ,dehsinav dn lareneg eht ot pu dleh ,delucidir ,dehsams ,detufer erew seiroeht sih ,skoob ni ,srepapswen ni ,neercselet eht no ,smroftalp no ,yad a semit dnasuoht a dna yad yreve hguohtla ,ydobyreve yb desipsed dna detah saw nietsdloG hguohtla taht saw egnarts saw tahw tuB .rehto eht htiw ecaep ta yllareneg saw ti srewoP eseht fo eno htiw raw ta saw ainaecO nehw ecnis ,aisatsaE ro aisaruE rehtie naht tnatsnoc erom dertah fo tcejbo na saw eH .yllacitamotua regna dna raef decudorp nietsdloG fo thguoht eht neve ro thgis eht ,sediseb :enrob eb ot hcum oot erew ,ti dniheb ymra naisaruE eht fo rewop gniyfirret eht dna ,neercs eht no ecaf ekil-peehs defisitas-fles ehT .moor eht ni elpoep eht flah morf tuo gnikaerb erew egar fo snoitamalcxe elballortnocnu ,sdnoces ytriht rof dedeecorp dah etaH eht erofe bus a saw KOOB EHT ron doohrehtorB eht rehtieN .sruomur eugav hguorht ylno sgniht hcus fo wenk eno tuB .KOOB EHT sa ylpmis ,lla ta fi ,ti ot derrefer elpoeP .eltit a tuohtiw koob a saw tI .ereht dna ereh ylenitsednalc detalucric hcihw dna rohtua eht saw nietsdloG hcihw fo ,seisereh eht lla fo muidnepmoc a ,koob elbirret a fo seirots derepsihw osla erew erehT .eb ot desoppus saw eman sti ,doohrehtorB ehT .etatS eht fo worhtrevo eht ot detacided srotaripsnoc fo krowten dnuorgrednu na ,ymra ywodahs tsav a fo rednammoc eht saw eH .eciloP thguohT eht yb deksamnu ton erew snoitcerid sih rednu gnitca sruetobas dna seips nehw dessap reven yad A .mih yb decudes eb ot gnitiaw sepud hserf erew ereht syawlA .ssel worg ot demees reven ecneuflni sih ,siht lla fo etips ni — erew yeht taht hsibbu .ti gnidiova fo yaw a saw ereht fi noitnem dluow rebmem ytraP yranidr nituohs saw eh taht dnuof notsniW tnemom dicul a nI .ylbaroxeni deunitnoc eciov eht ;ffo decnuob dna eson s’nietsdloG kcurts tI .neercs eht ta ti gnufl dna yranoitcid kaepsweN yvaeh a pu dekcip ehs ylneddus dna ’!eniwS !eniwS !eniwS‘ tuo gniyrc nugeb dah notsniW dniheb lrig deriah-krad ehT .evaw a fo tluassa eht ot pu gnidnats erew eh hguoht sa gnireviuq dna gnillews tsehc lufrewop sih ,riahc sih ni thgiarts yrev gnittis saw eH .dehsufl saw ecaf yvaeh s’neirB’O nevE .hsfi dednal a fo taht ekil gnittuhs dna gninepo saw htuom reh dna ,knip thgirb denrut dah namow deriah-ydnas elttil ehT .neercs eht morf emac taht eciov gnitaelb gnineddam eht nword ot troffe na ni seciov rieht fo spot eht ta gnituohs dna secalp rieht ni nwod dna pu gnipael erew elpoeP .yznerf a ot esor etaH eht etunim dnoces sti P eht ,rehtorB giB tsniaga ,yrartnoc eht no ,tub ,lla ta nietsdloG tsniaga denrut ton saw dertah s’notsniW tnemom eno ta ,suhT .pmalwolb a fo emafl eht ekil rehtona ot tcejbo eno morf dehctiws eb dluoc hcihw noitome detceridnu ,tcartsba na saw tlef eno taht egar eht tey dnA .citanul gnimaercs ,gnicamirg a otni lliw s’eno tsniaga neve eno gninrut ,tnerruc cirtcele na ekil elpoep fo puorg elohw eht hguorht wofl ot demees ,remmah-egdels a htiw ni secaf hsams ot ,erutrot ot ,llik ot erised a ,ssenevitcidniv dna raef fo ysatsce suoedih A .yrassecennu syawla saw ecneterp yna sdnoces ytriht nihtiW .ni gninioj diova ot elbissopmi saw ti taht ,yrartnoc eht no ,tub ,trap a tca ot degilbo saw eno taht ton saw etaH setuniM owT eht tuoba gniht elbirroh ehT .riahc sih fo gnur eht tsniaga yltneloiv leeh sih gnikcik dn .noitazilivic fo erutcurts eht gnikcerw fo eciov sih fo rewop erem eht yb elbapac ,retnahcne retsinis emos ekil demees ,ecnetsixe yrev sih tuoba gnuh taht tbuod eht dna ,ssensselpleh sih ,noitalosi sih fo etips ni ,nietsdloG dna ,aisA fo sedroh eht tsniaga kcor a ekil gnidnats ,rotcetorp sselraef ,elbicnivni na ,pu rewot ot demees rehtorB giB dna ,noitaroda otni degnahc rehtorB giB fo gnihtaol terces sih stnemom esoht tA .eurt eb ot mih ot demees nietsdloG fo dias saw taht lla dna ,mih tuoba elpoep eht htiw eno ta saw eh tnatsni txen yrev eht tey dnA .seil fo dlrow a ni ytinas dna hturt fo naidraug elos ,neercs eht no citereh dedired ,ylenol eht ot tuo tnew traeh sih stnemom hcus ta dna ;eciloP thguoh iaw elppus teews reh dnuor esuaceb ,os od reven dluow dna reh htiw deb ot og ot detnaw eh esuaceb ,sselxes dna ytterp dna gnuoy saw ehs esuaceb reh detah eH .reh detah eh taht saw ti YHW dezilaer eh ,revoerom ,erofeb naht retteB .xamilc fo tnemom eht ta taorht reh tuc dna reh hsivar dluow eH .naitsabeS tniaS ekil sworra fo lluf reh toohs dna ekats a ot dekan reh eit dluow eH .noehcnurt rebbur a htiw htaed ot reh gofl dluow eH .dnim sih hguorht dehsafl snoitanicullah lufituaeb ,diviV .mih dniheb lrig deriah-krad eht ot neercs eht no ecaf eht morf dertah sih gnirrefsnart ni dedeeccus notsniW ,eramthgin a ni wollip eht morf yawa daeh s’eno sehcnerw eno hcihw htiw troffe tneloiv fo tros eht yb ,ylnedduS .tca yratnulov a yb taht ro yaw siht dertah s’eno hctiws ot ,stnemom ta ,elbissop neve saw

1. Main Storytelling Space 2. Storage 3. Cafe/Bar 4.Information Point/IT 5. Library and Reading Space

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY SECTION A-A 1:100

1. Main Storytelling Space 2. Storage 3. Cafe/Bar 4.Information Point/IT 5. Library and Reading Space

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY CONTEXT SECTION B-B 1:200

pictures which sopictures contrived that theyou eyes follow pictures about which when are so you contrived move. BIG that BROTHER thethe eyes follow IS WATCHING you about YOU, whenIS you the caption move. BIG beneath BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath pictures which are so contrived that the eyesare follow you about when move. BIGyou BROTHER ISfollow WATCHING YOU, caption pictures which are sobeneath contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath which are so contrived that the eyes you about when you move. BIG BROTHER WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath pictures which sopictures contrived that theyou eyes follow about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING Y Inside the flat was reading out a listInside oftofigures thewith flat which a fruity had voice something was reading to dothe with out a production of voice figuresof which pig-iron. hadThe something to figures do withwhich the production of pig-iron. The the v production of pig-iron. The v pictures which are so contrived that the eyesare follow you about when move. BIGyou BROTHER ISfollow WATCHING YOU, theyou caption beneath Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading outaafruity list ofvoice figures which had something do the production ofInside pig-iron. The va list flatthe fruity was reading outva list of had something to do with which are so contrived that the eyes you about when move. BIG BROTHE Inside the flat was reading out a list oftofigures which had something to do with which part of wall. the surface the right-hand which wall.formed Winston part turned of the a surface switchwhich and of the the right-hand voice sank somewhat, turned a switch words and voice sank somewhat, words Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading outaafruity list ofvoice figures which had something do with the production of pig-iron. Thethe v production of pig which formed part of the surface of formed the right-hand Winstonofturned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words formed part ofwall. the Winston surfacethough of thethe right-hand wall.the Winston turned a switch though and thethe voice sank somewhat, though the words which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, t was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way was of called) shutting could it off be completely. dimmed, but He there moved was over no way to the of window: shutting a it smallish, off completely. frail He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: wasa called) smallish,could frail be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath called)was could but itthere was no wayHeofmoved shuttingover it offtocompletely. moved over blue overalls the was uniform thehis party. blue His overalls hair was which very were fair, the face uniform naturally of the sanguine, party. hishair skin roughened very of fair, byhiscparty. face His naturally sanguine, his his skinface roughened bysanguine, c was called) could be dimmed,was but there no be waydimmed, of shutting off completely. the window:He a smallish, frail to the window: a of the which party.were His hair veryoffair, face naturally sanguine, hishis skin roughened by cwhich His blue overalls were thewas uniform the hair was very fair, naturally his skin roughened by c voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. Theblue v overalls which were the uniform blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin rough blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by c the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words even through thelooked shut window-pane, Outside, world eveneddies cold. through Down inshut the window-pane, street little eddies the world of the wind looked were cold. whirling Downdust in the world streetlooked little eddies of wind whirling dust even through the shutOutside, window-pane, the world cold. Down inthe the streetlooked little ofthe wind were whirling dust Outside, even through shut window-pane, cold. Down in were the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, Outside, frail Outside, evenBROTHER through the shut window-pane, cold. Down in the street littledust eddies of wind were the skytoabe harsh blue, there seemed to be the no colour theinsky anything, a were harshexcept blue, there theeverywhere. posters seemed to The be no colour plastered anything, everywhere. except black-mo were plastered everywhere. The black-mo Outside, even the shut window-pane, the world cold. Down inthe theworld streetlooked little eddies of wind were whirling no colour in anything, except posters that plastered black-mo the that sky awere harsh blue,inthere seemed toThe bethe noposters colour inthat anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black-mo pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow youthrough about when you move. BIG ISlooked WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath ere the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by the c sky a harsh blue, there seemed the skytoabe harsh blue, there seemed to be the no colour anything, theeverywhere. posters thatThe were plastered everywhe There was one onopposite. the house-front immediately corner. opposite. There was BIGone BROTHER on thecaption house-front IS WATCHING immediately YOU, the opposite. caption BIG said, BROTHER while theIS dark WATCHING ey YOU, the caption said, while the dark ey the sky a harsh blue, there seemed no colour in anything, except postersin that were except plastered black-mo corner. There was one on the corner. house-front immediately IS that WATCHING said, while the dark ey corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER pictures whichBIG areBROTHER so contrived the eyes YOU, follow the you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark ey corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, theeycaptio level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped level fitfully another in the wind, poster, alternately torn at one covering corner, and flapped uncovering fitfully in the the single wind, word alternately INGSO covering and uncovering the single word INGSO corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. IS that WATCHING said,you while the dark level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single INGSO level word another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSO h the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust pictures whichBIG areBROTHER so contrived the eyes YOU, follow the you caption about when move. BIG BROTHE level another poster,fitfully torn in at the onewind, corner, flapped fitfully in the alternately covering and uncovering the singl roofs, hovered for an darted instant away like a again bluebottle, roofs, darted hovered away again an with a like curving a bluebottle, flight. It was andan the darted policeaway patrol, snooping with a and curving flight.away It was the police level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped alternately covering andwind, uncovering the single word INGSO roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and with aand curving flight. It for was theinstant police patrol, snooping roofs, hovered for instant like aagain bluebottle, darted again with a patrol, curvingsnooping flight. It was the police patrol, snooping there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black-mo roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patr roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping e on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark ey s back the from theaway telescreen still babbling s back away the voice about from pig-iron ands the overfulfilment was babbling of the away Ninth about Three-Year pig-iron and the overfulfilment the Ninth Plan. of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. s back the voice from the telescreen wasvoice still babbling aboutwas pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the the telescreen Ninth Three-Year Plan. back the still voice from the telescreen was stillPlan. babbling away about of pig-iron andThree-Year the overfulfilment torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSO s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilmen simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above simultaneously. the level of Any a very sound low that whisper, Winston would made, be picked above the up by level it, moreover, of a very low so long whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long s back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Pla simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so Any long sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long simultaneously. instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping sound Winston made, levelbe of picked a very up lowby whisper, would be picked up by it, m he could be was seenofascourse well asno plaque heard. commanded, There was whether ofhe course could no be way seenbeing ofcommanded, as knowing well aswhether heard. There you were being of as course watched no heard. way at an ofThere knowing youno were watched at an you were being watched at an simultaneously. Any sound thatsimultaneously. Winston made,Any above thethat level of a very low above whisper,the would it, moreover, so long plaque commanded, he could plaque be seencommanded, as well as heard. There way of knowing you were watched at could an plaque he bewas seen well as waswhether of course waybeing of knowing whether attered. he could be was seenofascourse well asnoheard. There was whether of course nowere way being of knowing whether Thought Policewire plugged in on any individual wireconceivable Thought was guesswork. Police It waswatched even in onconceivable any individual that they was watched guesswork. was even all the conceivable tim that they watched everybody all thethey tim watched everybody all the tim plaque commanded, he could plaque be seencommanded, as well as heard. There way of knowing you watched at anyou we Thought Police plugged individual was guesswork. It was even that plugged they everybody allwire the tim Thought Police plugged in on everybody any Itindividual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that ck the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan. in on any Thought Policewire plugged in on any individual wireconceivable was guesswork. It waswatched even conceivable they they wanted to. You hadthat to live — didinstinct live, from habit they that became to. You instinct had to—live in they the — did assumption live, from that habit every that became made — was inhabit othe assumption thatinstinct every —sound made wasthat o every sound you made was o Thought Police plugged in on any individual was guesswork. It was even that they everybodythat all the timwatched ever they wanted to. You had to live — did live, from habit became — in the wanted assumption that every sound you made o had wanted to.was You tosound live —you didinstinct live, from that became in theyou assumption ound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath they wanted to. You had to live — did live, from habit that became instinct — in the assumption that every sound they wanted to. You had to live — did live, from habit that became instinct — in the assumption that every sound you made was o he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at an pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHE kept his back the telescreen. was safer; keptthough, back as turned hebe well to knew, the telescreen. even a back was canturned safer; be revealing. though, A askilometr he well Itknew, back can bewell revealing. A kilometr to the telescreen. It wasturned safer;tothough, as he wellItWinston knew, even ahis back can revealing. Akept kilometr Winston his Itback to the telescreen. was even safer;athough, as he knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometr ed in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all Winston the tim kept his back turned Winston Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer; though, as he well knew, even a back can be reveal and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought and white with above a sort the of vague grimy landscape. distaste — this This, was he thought London, with chief a city sort of of Airstrip vague distaste O — this was London, chief city of Airstrip O Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer; though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometr city white of Airstrip aboveOthe grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste — this was London, chief city of Airstrip O had to live — did live, from habit that became instinct — in the assumption that every sound you madeand waswhite o above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste — this was London, chiefand and whiteThis, above grimy landscape. hedistaste thought — with sort London, of vaguechief distaste — Airstrip this wasO London, chief cit tried tomemory squeezethat out should some childhood memoryLondon He thattried should to always squeeze tell himbeen whether out some London childhood had memory always been that quite tell him this. whether Were there London a should had always been quiteLondon like this.had Were therebeen a quite like this. Were there a and white above the grimy landscape. he the thought with a sort of This, vague thisa was city of He tried to squeeze out some He childhood tell him whether had quite like this. Were there aoutshould He tried to squeeze somelike childhood memory that tell him whether always tried tomemory squeezethat out should some childhood memoryLondon that should tell himbeen whether London had always been theirofsides shored with baulks of timber, their their windows sides patched shored upwith with cardboard baulks ofand timber, their their roofs withwith corrugated patched with their cardboard c windows and their roofs with with cardboard corrugatedand iron,their theirroofs c with corrugated iron, their c He tried to squeeze out some He childhood tell him whether had always quite like this. Were there a quite like their sides shored up with baulks timber, their up windows patched with cardboard and their roofswith corrugated iron, their c windows their sides shored up baulks ofiron, timber, their patched k turned to the telescreen. It was safer; though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometr theirofsides shored with baulks of timber, their windows patched and their roofs sites where the plaster swirled ingazed the air and sites the willow-herb straggled dust swirled the in heaps the air of and rubble; the and willow-herb places straggled over heaps of rubble; and the whereofthrubble; and the places where th their sides shored up with baulks timber, their up windows patched with cardboard and their roofswith withcardboard corrugated iron, their c with corrugate sites where plaster dust swirled inThe theblack-moustachio’d air and thedust willow-herb over thewhere heapsthe of plaster rubble; and over the places where thplaster sites where the dustthe swirled in where the airth and the willow-herb straggled overplaces the heaps grimy landscape. This,the hesky thought withblue, a sort of vague distaste — this wasin London, citythe of Airstrip O a harsh there seemed to be no colour anything,chief except posters that werethe plastered everywhere. face straggled down from every commanding sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the pla sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken-houses? sordid colonies But it was of wooden no use, dwellings he could not like remember: chicken-houses? nothing But remained it was no of use, his chil he could not remember: nothing remained of his chil sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow-herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where th colonies of wooden dwellingssaid, like while chicken-houses? Butlooked itwhich was seemed no use,into he could remember: of hisfilled chil colonies of wooden like The chicken-houses? Butcrossed it was no out some childhood memory should Londonimmediately had always opposite. been quite likeBROTHER this. Weresordid a corner.that There was tell onehim on whether the house-front BIG ISthere WATCHING YOU, the caption the darkglance eyes deep him, and not solely because he was intrigued by the contrast between O’Brien’s urbane manner and his prize-fighter’s physique. Much more it was because of a secretly held belief — or perhaps not even a belief, toWinston piercenot right into him nothing and for remained a sordid moment had him withdwellings black terror. idea had even hisuse, mi he could not remember: nothing remained of his chil sordid colonies of wooden it was nonothing use, heremained could not of remember: corner. There was one on another the house-front immediately opposite. BIG IS WATCHING said, whilethe thesingle dark ey sordid wooden dwellings But it waslike no chicken-houses? use, remember: his chil nothing rema group of people round the chairs as theycolonies saw theof black overalls of an like Innerchicken-houses? Party memberdwellings approaching. O he could notBut with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and theirBROTHER roofs in with corrugated iron,YOU, their cthe caption level poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully the wind, alternately covering and uncovering word INGSOC. In the far distance helicoptertoskimmed down between the which had fear mixed up in it as well as hostility, whenever she was anywhere near him. merely a hope — that O’Brien’s political orthodoxy was not perfect. Something in his face suggested it irresistibly. And again, perhaps it was not even unorthodoxy that was written in his face, but simply intelligence. unlikely. Still, heacontinued feel a peculiar uneasiness, level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSO Suddenly he began writing in sheer panic, only imperfectly aware of what he was setting down. His small but childish handwriting straggled up and down the page, shedding first its capital letters and finally even its full stops: formidable appearance he had a certain charm of manner. He had a trick of resettling his spectacles on his nose which was curio roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people s windows. The patrols did not matter, however. Only April 4th, 1984. Last night to the flicks. All war films. One very good one of a ship full of refugees being bombed somewhere in the Mediterranean. Audience much amused by shots of a great huge fat man trying to swim away with a helicopter after him, first you saw him wallowing along in the water like a porpoise, then you saw him through the helicopters gunsights, then he was full of holes and the sea round him turned pink and he sank as suddenly as though the holes had let in the water, audience shouting with laughter when he sank. then you saw a lifeboat full of children with a helicopter hovering over it. there was a middle-aged woman might have been a jewess sitting up in the bow with a little boy about three years old in her arms. little boy screaming with fright and hiding his head between her b rying to burrow right into her and the woman putting her arms round him and comforting him although she was blue with fright herself, all the time covering him up as much as possible as if she thought her arms could keep the bullets off him. then the helicopter planted a 20 kilo bomb in among them terrific flash and the boat went all to matchwood. then there was a wonderful shot of a child’s arm going up up up right up into the air a helicopter with a camera in its nose must have followed it up and there was a lot of applause from the party seats but a woman down in the prole part of the house suddenly started kicking up a fuss and shouting they didnt oughter of showed it not in front of kids they didnt it aint right not in front of kids it aint until the police turned her turned her out i dont suppose anyth er nobody cares what the proles say typical prole reaction they never —— Winston stopped writing, partly because he was suffering from cramp. He did not know what had made him pour out this stream of rubbish. But the curious thing was that while he was doing so a totally different memory had clarified itself in his mind, to the point where he almost felt equal to writing it down. It was, he now realized, because of this other incident that he had suddenly decided to come home and begin the diary today. t had happened that morning at the Ministry, if anything so nebulous could be said to happen. t was nearly eleven hundred, and in the Records Department, where Winston worked, they were dragging the chairs out of the cubicles and grouping them in the centre of the hall opposite the big telescreen, in preparation for the Two Minutes Hate. Winston was just taking his place in one of the middle rows when two people whom he knew by sight, but had never spoken to, came unexpectedly into the room. One of them was a girl whom he often passed in the corridors. He did not know her name, but he knew that she worked in the Fiction Department. Presumably — since he had sometimes seen her with oily hands and carrying a spanner — she had some mechanical job on one of the novel-writing machines. She was a bold-looking girl, of about twenty-seven, with thick hair, a freckled face, and sw movements. A narrow scarlet sash, emblem of the Junior Anti-Sex League, was wound several times round the waist of her overalls, just tightly enough to bring out the shapeliness of her hips. Winston had disliked her from the very first moment of seeing her. He knew the reason. It was because of the atmosphere of hockey-fields and cold baths and community hikes and general clean-mindedness which she managed to carry about with her. He disliked nearly all women, and especially the young and pretty ones. It was always the women, and above all the young ones, who were the most bigoted adherents of the Party, the swallowers of slogans, the amateur spies and nosers-out of unorthodoxy. But this particular girl gave him the impression of being more dangerous than most. Once when they passed gave him a quick sidelong glance which seemed to pierce right into him and for a moment had filled him with black terror. The idea had even crossed his mind that she might be an agent of the Thought Police. That, it was true, was very unlikely. Still, he continued to feel a peculiar uneasiness, which had fear mixed up in it as well as hostility, whenever she was anywhere near him. The other person was a man named O’Brien, a member of the Inner Party and holder of some post so important and remote that Winston had only a dim idea of its nature. A momentary hush passed over the group of people round the chairs as they saw the black overalls of an Inner Party member approaching. O’Brien was a large, burly man with a thick neck and a coarse, humorous, brutal face. In spite of his formidable appearance he had a certain charm of manner. He had a trick of resettling his spectacles on his nose which was curiously disarming — in some indefinable way, curiously civilized. It was a gesture which, if anyone had still thought in such terms, might have recalled an eighteenth-century nobleman offering his snuffbox. Winston had seen O’Brien perhaps a dozen times in almost as ma deeply drawn to him, and not solely because he was intrigued by the contrast between O’Brien’s urbane manner and his prize-fighter’s physique. Much more it was because of a secretly held belief — or perhaps not even a belief, merely a hope — that O’Brien’s political orthodoxy was not perfect. Something in his face suggested it irresistibly. And again, perhaps it was not even unorthodoxy that was written in his face, but simply intelligence. But at any rate he had the appearance of being a person that you could talk to if somehow you could cheat the telescreen and get him alone. Winston had never made the smallest effort to verify this guess: indeed, there was no way of doing so. At this moment O’Brien glanced at his wrist-watch, saw that it was nearly eleven hundred, and evidently decided to s Department until the Two Minutes Hate was over. He took a chair in the same row as Winston, a couple of places away. A small, sandy-haired woman who worked in the next cubicle to Winston was between them. The girl with dark hair was sitting immediately behind. The next moment a hideous, grinding speech, as of some monstrous machine running without oil, burst from the big telescreen at the end of the room. It was a noise that set one’s teeth on edge and bristled the hair at the back of one’s neck. The Hate had started. As usual, the face of Emmanuel Goldstein, the Enemy of the People, had flashed on to the screen. There were hisses here and there among the audience. The little sandy-haired woman gave a squeak of mingled fear and disgust. Goldstein was the renegade and backslider who once, long ago (how long ago, nobody quite remembered), had been one of the leading figures of the Party, almost on a level with Big Brother himself, and then had engaged in counter-revolutionary activities, had been condemned to death, and had mysteriously escaped and disappeared. The programmes of the Two Minutes Hate varied from day to day, but there was none in which Goldstein was not the principal figure. He was the primal traitor, the earliest defiler of the Party’s purity. All subsequent crimes against the Pa acts of sabotage, heresies, deviations, sprang directly out of his teaching. Somewhere or other he was still alive and hatching his conspiracies: perhaps somewhere beyond the sea, under the protection of his foreign paymasters, perhaps even — so it was occasionally rumoured — in some hiding-place in Oceania itself. Winston’s diaphragm was constricted. He could never see the face of Goldstein without a painful mixture of emotions. It was a lean Jewish face, with a great fuzzy aureole of white hair and a small goatee beard — a clever face, and yet somehow inherently despicable, with a kind of senile silliness in the long thin nose, near the end of which a pair of spectacles was perched. It resembled the face of a sheep, and the voice, too, had a sheep-like quality. Goldstein was delivering his usual venomous attack upon the doctrines of the Party — an attack so exaggerated and perverse that a child should have been able to see through it, and yet just plausible enough to fill one with an alarmed feeling that other people, less level-headed than oneself, might be taken in by it. He was abusing Big Brother, he wa dictatorship of the Party, he was demanding the immediate conclusion of peace with Eurasia, he was advocating freedom of speech, freedom of the Press, freedom of assembly, freedom of thought, he was crying hysterically that the revolution had been betrayed — and all this in rapid polysyllabic speech which was a sort of parody of the habitual style of the orators of the Party, and even contained Newspeak words: more Newspeak words, indeed, than any Party member would normally use in real life. And all the while, lest one should be in any doubt as to the reality which Goldstein’s specious claptrap covered, behind his head on the telescreen there marched the endless columns of the Eurasian army — row after row of solid-looking men with expressionless Asiatic faces, who swam up to the surf and vanished, to be replaced by others exactly similar. The dull rhythmic tramp of the soldiers’ boots formed the background to Goldstein’s bleating voice. Before the Hate had proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room. The self-satisfied sheep-like face on the screen, and the terrifying power of the Eurasian army behind it, were too much to be borne: besides, the sight or even the thought of Goldstein produced fear and anger automatically. He was an object of hatred more constant than either Eurasia or Eastasia, since when Oceania was at war with one of these Powers it was generally at peace with the other. But what was strange was that although Goldstein was hated and despised by everybody, although every day and a thousand times a day, on platforms, on the telescreen, in newspapers, in books, his theories were refuted, smashed, ridiculed, held up to the general g ubbish that they were — in spite of all this, his influence never seemed to grow less. Always there were fresh dupes waiting to be seduced by him. A day never passed when spies and saboteurs acting under his directions were not unmasked by the Thought Police. He was the commander of a vast shadowy army, an underground network of conspirators dedicated to the overthrow of the State. The Brotherhood, its name was supposed to be. There were also whispered stories of a terrible book, a compendium of all the heresies, of which Goldstein was the author and which circulated clandestinely here and there. It was a book without a title. People referred to it, if at all, simply as THE BOOK. But one knew of such things only through vague rumours. Neither the Brotherhood nor THE BOOK was a subje ordinary Party member would mention if there was a way of avoiding it. n its second minute the Hate rose to a frenzy. People were leaping up and down in their places and shouting at the tops of their voices in an effort to drown the maddening bleating voice that came from the screen. The little sandy-haired woman had turned bright pink, and her mouth was opening and shutting like that of a landed fish. Even O’Brien’s heavy face was flushed. He was sitting very straight in his chair, his powerful chest swelling and quivering as though he were standing up to the assault of a wave. The dark-haired girl behind Winston had begun crying out ‘Swine! Swine! Swine!’ and suddenly she picked up a heavy Newspeak dictionary and flung it at the screen. It struck Goldstein’s nose and bounced off; the voice continued inexorably. In a lucid moment Winston found that he was shouting and kicking his heel violently against the rung of his chair. The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge-hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one’s will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp. Thus, at one moment Winston’s hatred was not turned against Goldstein at all, but, on the contrary, against Big Brother, the Pa

1. Main Storytelling Space 2. Storage 3. Cafe/Bar 4.Information Point/IT 5. Library and Reading Space

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY SECTION B-B 1:100

1. Main Storytelling Space 2. Storage 3. Cafe/Bar 4.Information Point/IT 5. Library and Reading Space

The majority of the building elements (cladding panels, steel beams and concrete slabs) have been designed to allow prefabrication for faster and more effiecient transportation and on-site assembly.

PREFABRICATED COMPONENTS FOR EASY TRANSPORT

f CLIFF

e GABLE RUIN OF CORDUROY FACTORY

d THREE STOREY RESIDENTIAL BUILDING

c PAVEMENT

b ROAD

a RIVER

EXISTING SITE ELEMENTS

11. STEEL COLUMNS S.H.S.

10. REPLACEMENT WALL concrete cast to retain the textures

9. CHANNEL STEEL SECTIONS

8. LOW-E TRIPLE GLAZING PANELS 40mm (some of which are partly openable for ventilation)

7 .POLYCARBONATE PANELS 40mm

CLADDING:

6. STRUCTURAL STEEL FRAME S.H.S 300x300mm

5. MAIN CIRCULATION CONCRETE STAIRCASE

4. FLOOR SLABS: PRE-CAST POLISHED CONCRETE

3. GLAZED ROOF (Ventilation rooflight)

2. ACCOMODATION PAVILION

1. INTIMATE STORYTELLING SPACE (ramp access)

ASSEMBLY ELEMENTS

ASSEMBLY 1/2

“THE STORYTELLING FACTORY” | Hebden Bridge

12.

10.

Used to replace the old retaining wall which was in poor condition.

CONTIGUOUS PILING

11.

KUNSTHAUS BREGENZ BY PETER ZUMTHOR

LABAN DANCE CENTRE BY HERZOG & DE MEURON Colour coding system to facilitate orientation

CASA DA MUSICA

Contrasting typology of the adjacent residential building, the elevation is articulated by the full height cladding panels of polycarbonate and glazing. The building materials become reference to the previous industrial use of the site i.e. the Hebden Cord textile factory and aspire for a sleek, stiped down aesthetic.

ELEVATIONAL SNIPPET

MAINTENANCE FACILITY BY ALLMANN SATTLER WAPPNER ARCHITEKTEN

ASSEMBLY 2/2

“THE STORYTELLING FACTORY” | Hebden Bridge

MAIN STORYTELLING AREA

QUIET READING AREA

BOOKSHOP

ACCOMODATION FOR VISITING STORYTELLERS

LITERATURE WORKSHOP

INTERIORITY, SCULPTURE BY WIEL ARETS

INTIMATE STORYTELLING FOR 2

Floor slabs are made of pigmented concrete, which help identify di erent spaces when looking up.

The building is demonstrating the dynamic individual character of each space through a colour coding system which also provides clear orientation to all activities.

COLOUR CODING SYSTEM OF CONCRETE

Glazed panels on the main facade along with the viewing terrace on the top oor provide a refreshing view of the Hebden Beck canal, the old Hebden Bridge and part of the city centre.

VIEW FROM THE STORYTELLING FACTORY

EXTERNAL VIEWING TERRACE

LIBRARY

BAR / IT INFORMATION POINT

The main circulation staircase creates landings which interact visually with the old gable, the setting for storytelling. The staicase will take you from the ground oor to the extrenal storytelling space for 2.

THE VERTICAL JOURNEY

PERSPECTIVE VIEW FROM THE STAIRCASE

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY NIGHT VIEW

At night the polycarbonate cladding panels are lit from inside, revealing movement, figures and activity. This effect actentuates the industrial aesthetic of the building while it helps attract the community.

HOUSE OF 33 YEARS BY MEGUMI MATSUBARA

ALL WATCHED OVER BY MACHINES OF LOVING GRACE

U-BOAT HALL BY BOLLES+WILSON

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY MODELS

SITE MODEL 1:200

ELEVATIONAL SNIPPET

STRUCTURAL MODEL 1:100

S.H.S. FRAME BENEFITS Allows for large spans creating spaces uninterrupted by collumns. The steel structure is exposed, and therefore allows ease of maintenance or alteration. Exposed beams, also, allow lighting and servises to be hang on them enabling easy maintenance and repair.

04 THE STORYTELLING FACTORY INTERIOR PERSPECTIVES

A. The open plan ground floor includes the library and reading areas, the main storyteling space and the bar/info point. Vertical circulation is facilitated by the colour coding system; different colour of concrete represents a different kind of activity

B. Visual links from the staircase balcony to the event stage

C. The Literature Workshop Creating stories with a view to the valley

D. Intimate storytelling space for two