jaylar
Winston swallows his gin which had a nauseating flavour and smell. The smell of gin, which dwelt with him night and day, was inextricably mixed up in his mind with the smell of those —
He never named them, even in his thoughts. So far as it was possible he never visualized them. They were something that he was half-aware of, hovering close to his face, a smell that clung to his nostrils.
As the gin rose in him he belched through purple lips.
Winston had grown fatter since he had been released from prison. He regained his old colour — indeed, more than regained it. His features had thickened, the skin on nose and cheekbones was coarsely red, his bald scalp was too deep a pink.
—————–
It is clear that Winston has been altered, physically but more mentally.
He is virtually programmed to go to this bar, to sit and smell a stink that will remind him of the past. Where a free person would avoid it, Winston can not. He is no longer in control of his mind. He doesn’t even realise that he comes to this place not because he wants to but because he is ‘programmed’ to.
Further, he can not think of the past; his brain has been controlled to the point where he automatically blocks such thoughts.
