Winston rents out Mr Charrington’s room to have a love affair with Julia. He keeps listening to an prole woman singing. Julia brings real food and also cosmetics. We learn Winston is terrified of rats.
She had become a physical necessity, something that he not only wanted but felt that he had a right to.
It was as though they were intentionally stepping nearer to their graves.
‘It’s all Inner Party stuff. There’s nothing those swines don’t have, nothing.’
It struck him as a curious fact that he had never heard a member of the Party singing alone and spontaneously. It would have seemed slightly unorthodox, a dangerous eccentricity, like talking to oneself.
‘I’m going to get hold of a real woman’s frock from somewhere and wear it instead of these bloody trousers.’
‘In this room I’m going to be a woman, not a Party comrade.’
‘Of all horrors in the world - a rat!’
(about the paperweight) ‘That’s what I like about it. It’s a little chunk of history that they’ve forgotten to alter.’
The paperweight was the room he was in, and the coral was Julia’s life and his own, fixed in a sort of eternity at the heart of the crystal.