George Orwell ‘s 1984 Pdf Book is now available here at bajrontbooks to download for free. Also You have a MUCH better version of the same book (George Orwell 1984) In Flip as well.
– Did you know that this book was banned? Well, YES! It was. And the reason why is here:
“ Additionally, the novel was banned and censored for being “offensive” and “vulgar” due to its language and characterization. 1984 – George Orwell’s 1984 has repeatedly been banned and challenged in the past for its social and political themes, as well as for sexual content. “
NOW It’s back online for you to download and enjoy reading your long-waited book. So, the main reason you would download George Orwell ‘s 1984 Pdf book in also a flip version is because You will be able to see some drastic difference between the two. And this is because we did all we could do to make you enjoy while your reading your favorite books.
1984 Pdf book is also a really good book to read from. Why we recommend flip is because it doesn’t require you any software to open it. How cool is that?
BUT! Let’s have a little representation on how would it look like if your were to download and open George Orwell 1984 Book …
This is the first image representing what would you see if you have JUST opened a flip version of the book.
So, as you can see. Words are really not necessary. It is so beautiful. And we all love reading our books in flip version. And we really hope you will as well.
Now here is the second image representing how does it feel like when you have already started ‘Flipping’ -> (literally flipping pages 🙂 ) …
Guys there is no much really to say then this: Scroll up the website, Click on any of the Download buttons you would like to initiate. And then all rest is enjoying yourself.
A short summary of George Orwell ‘s 1984 Pdf & Flip Book!
George Orwell 1984 Pdf & Flip Book Introduction
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Man- sions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats.
At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way.
On each landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.
Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable.
There is more to it …
The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely.
He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party.
His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended.
Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold.
Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black-moustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite.
BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the cap- tion said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own.