traitor, the earliest defiler of
the Party's purity. All subsequent crimes against the Party, all
treacheries, 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 was denouncing the 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