1984 Hero's Journey

1984 is a novel about a man who lives in a country called Oceania. He is part of a party who is not allowed to think for themselves. They are constantly being monitored via a telescreen, Winston, the main character of this dystopian novel does what he is not supposed to do. He gets into a relationship with a girl named Julia. They meet in a room on top of a store where Winston bought his diary to write down his crimes. Winston and Julia eventually end up getting caught. Winston gets tortured and brainwashed. As he is about to get rats put on his face, he screams and pleads to put those rats on Julia. He is liberated and now is loyal to his party. His feelings for Julia were gone. So to all this how is Winston a hero, or not a hero? Winston
Winston feels uneasy about always being monitored by the thought police. Everything in their life is controlled by Big Brother. They are not allowed to have their own thoughts. They must do everything the telescreen tells them too. Nobody else questions this, but Winston does. “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 color in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black mustachioed face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston's own. Down at streetlevel another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSOC.
He begins to feel paranoid. At this point, WInston doesn’t back out. He keeps breaking the law when he meets Julia. They both give in and fall in love with each other. They both meet O'brian, which leads them to want to join Brotherhood to overcome Big Brother. As Winston has crossed the threshold, he is caught by the thought police. He is punished for his actions, “With that first blow on the elbow the nightmare had started. Later he was to realize that all that then happened was merely a preliminary, a routine interrogation to which nearly all prisoners were subjected. There was a long range of crimes – espionage, sabotage, and the like – to which everyone had to confess as a matter of course. The confession was a formality, though the torture was real. How many times he had been beaten, how long the beatings had continued, he could not remember. Always there were five or six men in black uniforms at him simultaneously. Sometimes it was fists, sometimes it was truncheons, sometimes it was steel rods, and sometimes it was boots. There were times when he rolled about the floor, as shameless as an animal, writhing his body this way and that in an endless, hopeless effort to dodge the kicks, and simply inviting more and yet more kicks, in his ribs, in his belly, on his elbows, on his shins, in his groin, in his testicles, on the bone at the base of his spine. There were times when it went on and on until the cruel, wicked,