Part 1, Chapter 1 It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith,... slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions ... ... Winston made for the stairs .... On each landing, opposite 5 the lift-shaf, 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. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures 10 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 distinguishable. The instrument (the 15 telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold ... there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black 20 moustachio'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.... In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, 25 hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, 30 snooping into people's windows. The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still 35 babbling away ... The telescreen received and transmitted 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 vision which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There 40 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 45 wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live ... in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized. Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen.Porfa necesito un resumen en inglés de ese texto​
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