The idea that he could ever go against Big Brother or imagine any alternative life is no longer viable. A few minutes earlier, he had been considering the possibility that Oceania might be defeated in the war, but when he hears the news of Eurasia's defeat, he realizes that just as Oceania's control over Africa is complete, so also is Big Brother's control over him. He loved Big Brother.Īs the text says, Winston is sitting in a blissful dream. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished.
O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. The long-hoped-for bullet was entering his brain. He was walking down the white-tiled corridor, with the feeling of walking in sunlight, and an armed guard at his back. He was in the public dock, confessing everything, implicating everybody. He was back in the Ministry of Love, with everything forgiven, his soul white as snow. He was not running or cheering any longer. Winston, sitting in a blissful dream, paid no attention as his glass was filled up. One of them approached with the gin bottle. The waiters were turning back to their work. The voice from the telescreen was still pouring forth its tale of prisoners and booty and slaughter, but the shouting outside had died down a little. Winston is in the Chestnut Tree Café, listening to the news of the victory over Eurasia:Īh, it was more than a Eurasian army that had perished! Much had changed in him since that first day in the Ministry of Love, but the final, indispensable, healing change had never happened, until this moment. The concluding paragraphs make it clear that his death is metaphorical.
He does not literally die at the end of the novel.
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