Work Text:
Roger Waters — a state musician and headliner of almost all London concerts and festivals. Sometimes he performed in provincial towns, when some Town Days were celebrated there. Roger was happy with his position in Oceania. He felt that his music was necessary to show people, how it's important to be loyal to Big Brother. He tried to write songs that inspired to unite, and that celebrated the government's achievements. By the way, his music, as it always written in the "Truth" newspaper, was distinguished by its energy, and his poems by strong images. That’s why his work had such a strong influence on people’s moods—it evoked a response from the people.
When Roger walked on stage, he felt like he was becoming the part of a big, powerful machine. The mechanism that moved Oceania to prosperity and power. When he performed his the most famous song, "Waiting for Big Brother," he saw people raise their hands in support. Looking at the crowd waving its arms in unison, at this well-coordinated machine, Roger was truly happy.
One day he was supposed to perform at a festival in honor of Hate Week — a major public holiday. Roger's been preparing for the performance for many weeks, and carefully coordinated the program with the management.
Roger's team needed to perform on thr stage, in a large area. The crowd was extremely huge — the sea of enthusiastic faces, waiting for the show. Adults and children, teenagers, party members and proles — everyone came to the holiday to show their devotion to the state. Meanwhile, pillars with Telescreens, tracking devices for monitoring turnout, rose above the square on all it's sides. Finally, the stage announcer announced the entrance of Roger Waters, and at the same moment the roar of synthetic guitars was heard — the intro of the song “In the flesh”. The audience began to greet the musician with joyful cries.
With his head held high, Roger walked past the people in the front rows. He was wearing dark glasses and a suit that in some way reminded a Thought Police uniform. The only thing that showed, that here's a just an artist, was the absence of special police chevron. However, if you didn’t know, you could be really scared... But there’s nothing to be afraid of, is there? Here, in this crowd, everyone is loyal to the state, and there are no betrayers?
Before walking up the steps, Waters suddenly stopped by A Zone, which had the best seats overlooking the stage and was reserved for military families. Roger's attention was drawn to a two-year-old boy with the coat of arms of Oceania on his chest. He sat on his mother’s laps and looked at the state singer with bright eyes. Waters came closer and, smiling, slightly lifted the little patriot, and then let him go, and moved on. At the same time, this action was broadcast on screens for those who could not clearly see what was happening on the stage, or near the stage.
When Roger went to the microphone and stopped, the crowd became silent.
"So ya
Thought ya
Might like to go to the show?
To feel the warm thrill of confusion
That space cadet glow?
Tell me is something upsetting you, sunshine?
Is this not what you expected to see?
Oh, I wanna find out what's behind these cold eyes
I just have to claw my way through this disguise... "
The voice sounded mocking, that’s how Waters got into the role. The audience stood in silent admiration of the performance. And the guitars roared again. Roger walked away from the microphone and began to strut across the stage from side to side. And then he returned to his original place and continued talking. This time sternly and loudly, holding the microphone stand with his hand:
"Are there any thoughtcriminals in the audience tonight?
Get 'em up against the wall!
Now there's one in the spotlight, he don't look right to me
Get him up against the wall!
And that one looks Jewish! And that one's a coon!
Who let all this riffraff into the room?!"
Waters' voice was full of anger, he almost spat into the crowd. And people, absorbed in the atmosphere of the show, looked at him and, too, deep in their souls, were filled with anger towards the vile thought-criminals. Demonstrations like these were truly inspiring. According to statistics, what always was counted after the Week of Hate, the number of denunciations against citizens had increased because of the demonstrations.
“In the flesh” was over, the next patriotic song began — “Run!” For some reason, young people especially loved this song. Teenagers and scouts in bright red ties stirred in the crowd.
The culmination of the show was the mini-play “The Trial of the Thought Criminal,” which was performed today for the first time. The role of the thought criminal was a rag doll with a painted face, that was hung up like a puppet. The rest of the characters were alive actors.
First, principal approached the thought-criminal and beat him with a pointer, saying, “You were always obnoxious, you weren’t even accepted to the scout troop, if I had had my way, I would have already beaten you to death at the school!” Then the wife of the thought-criminal appeared and said that, instead of being faithful to the anti-sexual union and the party, he had sex for the sake of satisfaction and went to prostitutes, and that from this he would soon have syphilis. In the end, the mother of the thought-criminal appeared, called him her main disappointment, and said that the prison is waiting for him.
As characters appeared, the puppet's strings were cut, making it more limp. Eventually, Big Brother appeared on the projector screen and sentenced the thought-criminal. Then they began to burn the doll in front of the spectators and set off fireworks. The crowd cheered and rejoiced. Roger was very proud of this play and considered it as his main masterpiece.
At the end of the show, Waters was surrounded by scouts — those who were able to squeeze through — they began to shower him with words of gratitude and slip him homemade souvenirs: small coats of arms of Oceania made of wood or paper, badges or even drawings. There seemed to be no trace left of Waters' image as the stern, thought-criminal catcher. In front of the children now there was simply a party singer, their role model. Roger, with genuine friendliness, paid attention to those it was possible, and left. He was hurrying to the “Bourgeois literature burning ceremony,” the next obligatory event during Hate Week, when confiscated banned literature is demonstratively burned.