Orwell, George — Nineteen eighty-four [425]

It was a physical problem that had to be solved: how to get in touch with the girl and arrange a meeting. He did not consider any longer the possibility that she might be laying some kind of trap for him. He knew that it was not so, because of her unmistakable agitation when she handed him the note. Obviously she had been frightened out of her wits, as well she might be. Nor did the idea of refusing her advances even cross his mind. Only five nights ago he had contemplated smashing her skull in with a cobblestone; but that was of no importance. He thought of her naked, youthful body, as he had seen it in his dream. He had imagined her a fool like all the rest of them, her head stuffed with lies and hatred, her belly full of ice. A kind of fever seized him at the thought that he might lose her, the white youthful body might slip away from him! What he feared more than anything else was that she would simply change her mind if he did not get in touch with her quickly. But the physical difficulty of meeting was enormous. It was like trying to make a move at chess when you were already mated. Whichever way you turned, the telescreen faced you. — Orwell, George, Nineteen eighty-four, 425

Note

The chess metaphor lands hard — the game is already lost, so any move is merely a postponement. ‘Whichever way you turned, the telescreen faced you’ pivots from the interior struggle of desire against suspicion to the inescapable physical grid that constitutes the entire relationship. The compression of ‘he had contemplated smashing her skull in with a cobblestone; but that was of no importance’ shows how the surveillance state hollows out even violent feeling, making it just another private irrelevance.