1984-bilingue

George Orwell 1 9 8 4
horizon of their minds. To keep them in control was
not difficult. A few agents of the Thought Police
moved always among them, spreading false
rumours and marking down and eliminating the few
individuals who were judged capable of becoming
dangerous; but no attempt was made to indoctrinate
them with the ideology of the Party. It was not
desirable that the proles should have strong political
feelings. All that was required of them was a
primitive patriotism which could be appealed to
whenever it was necessary to make them accept
longer working-hours or shorter rations. And even
when they became discontented, as they sometimes
did, their discontent led nowhere, because being
without general ideas, they could only focus it on
petty specific grievances. The larger evils
invariably escaped their notice. The great majority
of proles did not even have telescreens in their
homes. Even the civil police interfered with them
very little. There was a vast amount of criminality
in London, a whole world-within-a-world of
thieves, bandits, prostitutes, drug-peddlers, and
racketeers of every description; but since it all
happened among the proles themselves, it was of no
importance. In all questions of morals they were
allowed to follow their ancestral code. The sexual
puritanism of the Party was not imposed upon them.
Promiscuity went unpunished, divorce was
permitted. For that matter, even religious worship
would have been permitted if the proles had shown
any sign of needing or wanting it. They were
beneath suspicion. As the Party slogan put it:
'Proles and animals are free.'
Winston reached down and cautiously scratched his
varicose ulcer. It had begun itching again. The thing
you invariably came back to was the impossibility
of knowing what life before the Revolution had
really been like. He took out of the drawer a copy
of a children's history textbook which he had
borrowed from Mrs Parsons, and began copying a
passage into the diary:
In the old days (it ran), before the glorious
Revolution, London was not the beautiful city that
we know today. It was a dark, dirty, miserable place
where hardly anybody had enough to eat and where
hundreds and thousands of poor people had no
hijos, las mezquinas peleas entre vecinos, el cine,
el fútbol, la cerveza y sobre todo, el juego,
llenaban su horizonte mental. No era difícil
mantenerlos a raya. Unos cuantos agentes de la
Policía del Pensamiento circulaban entre ellos,
esparciendo rumores falsos y eliminando a los
pocos considerados capaces de convertirse en
peligrosos; pero no se intentaba adoctrinarlos con
la ideología del Partido. No era deseable que los
proles tuvieran sentimientos políticos intensos.
Todo lo que se les pedía era un patriotismo
primitivo al que se recurría en caso de necesidad
para que trabajaran horas extraordinarias o
aceptaran raciones más pequeñas. E incluso
cuando cundía entre ellos el descontento, como
ocurría a veces, era un descontento que no servía
para nada porque, por carecer de ideas generales,
concentraban su instinto de rebeldía en quejas
sobre minucias de la vida corriente. Los grandes
males, ni los olían. La mayoría de los proles ni
siquiera era vigilada con telepantallas. La policía
los molestaba muy poco. En Londres había mucha
criminalidad, un mundo revuelto de ladrones,
bandidos, prostitutas, traficantes en drogas y
maleantes de toda clase; pero como sus
actividades tenían lugar entre los mismos proles,
daba igual que existieran o no. En todas las
cuestiones de moral se les permitía a los proles
que siguieran su código ancestral. No se les
imponía el puritanismo sexual del Partido. No se
castigaba su promiscuidad y se permitía el
divorcio. Incluso el culto religioso se les habría
permitido si los proles hubieran manifestado la
menor inclinación a él. Como decía el Partido:
«los proles y los animales son libres».
Winston se rascó con precaución sus varices.
Habían empezado a picarle otra vez. Siempre
volvía a preocuparle saber qué habría sido la vida
anterior a la Revolución. Sacó del cajón un
ejemplar del libro de historia infantil que le había
prestado la señora Parsons y empezó a copiar un
trozo en su diario:
En los antiguos tiempos (decía el libro de texto)
antes de la gloriosa Revolución, no era Londres la
hermosa ciudad que hoy conocemos. Era un lugar
tenebroso, sucio y miserable donde casi nadie
tenía nada que comer y donde centenares y
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