That， he reflected， might almost have been a transcription from one of the Party textbooks. The Party claimed， of course， to have liberated the proles from bondage. Before the Revolution they had been hideously oppressed by the capitalists， they had been starved and flogged， women had been forced to work in the coal mines （women still did work in the coal mines， as a matter of fact）， children had been sold into the factories at the age of six. But simultaneously， true to the Principles of doublethink， the Party taught that the proles were natural inferiors who must be kept in subjection， like animals， by the application of a few simple rules. In reality very little was known about the proles. It was not necessary to know much. So long as they continued to work and breed， their other activities were without importance. Left to themselves， like cattle turned loose upon the plains of Argentina， they had reverted to a style of life that appeared to be natural to them， a sort of ancestral pattern. They were born， they grew up in the gutters， they went to work at twelve， they passed through a brief blossoming-period of beauty and sexual desire， they married at twenty， they were middle-aged at thirty， they died， for the most part， at sixty. Heavy physical work， the care of home and children， petty quarrels with neighbours， films， football， beer， and above all， gambling， filled up the 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：
But he knew the rest of the catalogue. There would be mention of the bishops in their lawn sleeves， the judges in their ermine robes， the pillory， the stocks， the treadmill， the cat-o’-nine tails， the Lord Mayor’s Banquet， and the practice of kissing the Pope’s toe. There was also something called the jus primae noctis， which would probably not be mentioned in a textbook for children. It was the law by which every capitalist had the right to sleep with any woman working in one of his factories.
