The Versificator And the Records Department, after all, was itself only a single branch of the Ministry of Truth, whose primary job was not to reconstruct the past but to supply the citizens of Oceania with newspapers, films, textbooks, telescreen programmes, plays, novels — with every conceivable kind of information, instruction, or entertainment, from a statue to a slogan, from a lyric poem to a biological treatise, and from a child's spelling-book to a Newspeak dictionary. And the Ministry had not only to supply the multifarious needs of the party, but also to repeat the whole operation at a lower level for the benefit of the proletariat. There was a whole chain of separate departments dealing with proletarian literature, music, drama, and entertainment generally. Here were produced rubbishy newspapers containing almost nothing except sport, crime and astrology, sensational five-cent novelettes, films oozing with sex, and sentimental songs which were composed entirely by mechanical means on a special kind of kaleidoscope known as a versificator. There was even a whole sub-section — Pornosec, it was called in Newspeak — engaged in producing the lowest kind of pornography, which was sent out in sealed packets and which no Party member, other than those who worked on it, was permitted to look at.

The Versificator bin/linkrd?_lang=EN&lah=55489d2f790a5a ad109371d3f1751c9f&lat= &h m___action=http%3a%2f%2fgrove%2eufl %2eedu%2f%7espellman%2fdada%2f

The Harrow Then he pulled out a small leather wallet and said, 'Our sentence doesn't sound particularly severe. The condemned man has the law that he has broken inscribed on his body with the harrow. This man, for instance - the officer pointed to him - 'will have "Honour your superiors!" inscribed on his body.' The traveller cast a quick glance at the condemned man; his head was bowed as the officer pointed at him, and he appeared to be straining his ears in an attempt to learn something, though it was evident from the movement of his thick, pouting lips that he understood nothing. The traveller had various questions in mind but at the sight of the man asked only, 'Does he know his sentence?' 'No,' said the officer. He was about to go on with his explanations, but the traveller cut him short again; he was still for a moment as if expecting the traveller to volunteer some reason for his question, then he said, 'There would be no sense in telling him. He experiences it on his own body.' The traveller, who would have said no more, became aware that the condemned man was looking at him, apparently to ask whether he was able to sanction the process being described. The traveller therefore bent forward again, having leant back in his seat, and asked another question: 'But he knows that he has been sentenced?' 'He doesn't know that either,' said the officer, smiling at the traveller as if in anticipation of further strange disclosures on his part. 'You mean,' said the traveller, passing a hand over his forehead, 'that even now the man doesn't know how his defence was received?' He's had no opportunity to defend himself,' said the officer, looking away as if he were talking to himself and did not wish to humiliate the traveller with an account of things that, to him, were self-evident.

The Harrow

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