nothing about
the Revolution and the years before the Revolution. Every record has been
destroyed or falsified, every book has been rewritten, every picture has
been repainted, every statue and street and building has been renamed,
every date has been altered. And that process is continuing day by day and
minute by minute. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless
present in which the Party is always right. I know, of course, that the
past is falsified, but it would never be possible for me to prove it, even
when I did the falsification myself. After the thing is done, no evidence
ever remains. The only evidence is inside my own mind, and I don't know
with any certainty that any other human being shares my memories. Just in
that one instance, in my whole life, I did possess actual concrete evidence
after the event -- years after it.'
'And what good was that?'
'It was no good, because I threw it away a few minutes later. But if
the same thing happened today, I should keep it.'
'Well, I wouldn't!' said Julia. 'I'm quite ready to take risks, but
only for something worth while, not for bits of old newspaper. What could
you have done with it even if you had kept it?'
'Not much, perhaps. But it was evidence. It might have planted a few
doubts here and there, supposing that I'd dared to show it to anybody. I
don't imagine that we can alter anything in our own lifetime. But one can