large bald skull over
which a few lank locks straggled, was haranguing the crowd. A little
Rumpelstiltskin figure, contorted with hatred, he gripped the neck of the
microphone with one hand while the other, enormous at the end of a bony
arm, clawed the air menacingly above his head. His voice, made metallic by
the amplifiers, boomed forth an endless catalogue of atrocities, massacres,
deportations, lootings, rapings, torture of prisoners, bombing of
civilians, lying propaganda, unjust aggressions, broken treaties. It was
almost impossible to listen to him without being first convinced and then
maddened. At every few moments the fury of the crowd boiled over and the
voice of the speaker was drowned by a wild beast-like roaring that rose
uncontrollably from thousands of throats. The most savage yells of all came
from the schoolchildren. The speech had been proceeding for perhaps twenty
minutes when a messenger hurried on to the platform and a scrap of paper
was slipped into the speaker's hand. He unrolled and read it without
pausing in his speech. Nothing altered in his voice or manner, or in the
content of what he was saying, but suddenly the names were different.
Without words said, a wave of understanding rippled through the crowd.
Oceania was at war with Eastasia! The next moment there was a tremendous
commotion. The banners and posters with which the square was decorated were
all wrong! Quite half of them had the wrong faces on them. It was sabotage!
The agents of Goldstein had been at work! There was a riotous interlude
while posters were ripped from the walls, banners torn to shreds and
trampled underfoot. The Spies performed prodigies of activity in clambering
over the rooftops and cutting the streamers that fluttered from the
chimneys. But within