Andre Malraux - Man's Fate

1 The restriction of rubber production in the entire British Empire (the world’s greatest producer), for the purpose of raising the price 'lf rubber which at that time had sunk below production cost.

all too safe. He could be saved only for moral reasons; hence, by the French gove^rnment.

The threat of bankruptcy brings to financial groups an intense national consciousness. When their enterprises in distant corners of the world are suddenly threatened with disaster they remember with mingled pride and gratitude the heritage of civilization which their country has given them and which they in have helped to pass on to colonial peoples.

It was Ferral’s experience that gove^rnments are indulgent task-masters, that they treat their favorite children, the big financial groups, with commendable leniency. But while governments are accustomed to seeing the treasury robbed, they do not like to see it robbed of all hope. A treasury that expects, with the tenacious hope of a gambler, to recoup its losses some day is a treasury half consoled. France had suffered a severe loss by refusing aid to the Industrial Bank of China. It was not likely that France, so soon after, would in turn abandon the Consortium and risk the wrath of a whole new army of investors.

But if Ferral were to ask her for help it was essential that his position should not appear hopeless; it was essential first of all that Communism should be crushed in China. Chiang Kai-shek as master of the Provinces meant the construction of the Chinese Railway; the anticipated loan amounted to three billion gold francs, which equaled many million paper francs. To be sure, he would not be the only one to receive orders for materials, any more than he was alone today in defending Chiang Kai- shek; but he would be in on the game. Moreover, the American banks feared the triumph of Communism in China; its fall would modify their policy. As a Frenchman, Ferral enjoyed privileges in China; “it was an accepted fact that the Consortium would participate in the construction of the railroad.” To maintain himself he was justified in asking the government for a loan which it would prefer to a new crash; while his credits were American, his deposits and his stocks were French. All his cards could not win during a period of acute crisis in China; but, just as the Stevenson Plan had in its time assured the life of the Consortium, so the victory of the Kuomintang was to assure it today. The stabilization of the franc had worked against him; the fall of Communism would work for him.

Would he, all his life, never be able to do more than wait, in order to take advantage of them, for the passage of those great tidal sweeps of world economy that began like offerings and ended like blows below the belt? Tonight, in case of either resistance, victory or defeat, he felt himself dependent upon all the forces of the world. But there was this woman upon whom he did not depend, who would presently depend on ^m; the avowal of submission on her face at the moment of possession, like a hand plastered over his eyes, would conceal from him the network of constraints on which his life rested. He had seen her again in several drawing-rooms (she had just returned from Kyoto three days before), and each time he had been thwarted and irritated by her refusal of all submissiveness, whereby she stimulated his desire, though she had consented to go to bed with him tonight.

In his limitless craving to be preferred-one admires more easily, more completely, from one sex to the other — he called upon eroticism to revive a wavering admiration. That was why he had looked at Valerie while he was lying with her: there is a great deal of certainty in lips swollen with pleasure. He detested the coquettishness without which she would not even have existed in his eyes: that in her which resisted him was what most irritated his sensuality. All this was very obscure, for it was from his need to imagine himself in her place as soon as he began to touch her body that he derived his acute feeling of possession. But a conquered body, to begin with, had more appeal for him than an offered body- more appeal than any other body.

He left his car and entered the Astor, foUowed by the “boy” who was carrying his cage in his hand with an air of dignity. There were millions of shadows on earth: the women whose love did not interest him-and one living adversary: the woman by whom he wanted to be loved. The idea of complete possession had become fixed in him, and his pride called for a hostile pride, as a passionate player calls for another player to oppose him, and not for peace. At least things were well started tonight, since they would begin by going to bed.

The moment he reached the lobby a European employee came up to him.

“Madame Serge left a message to tell Monsieur Ferral that she will not be in tonight, but that this gendeman will explain.”

Ferral, dumbfounded, looked at “this gentleman”- seated, with his back turned, next to a screen. The man turned round: the director of one of the English banks, who had been paying court to Valerie for the last month. Beside him, behind the screen, a “boy,” with no less dignity than Ferral’s, was holding a blackbird in a cage. The Englishman got up, bewildered, shook Ferral’s hand, while saying:

“You were to explain to me, Mr. ”

They both realized at once that they were being made fools of. They looked at each other, in the midst of the sly smiles of the “boys” and the gravity, too great to be natural, of the white employees. It was the cocktail hour, and all Shanghai was there. Ferral felt himself to be the more ridiculous: the Englishman was almost a youth.

A contempt as intense as the anger which inspired him immediately compensated for the humiliation which was being imposed on him. He felt himself surrounded by the very essence of human stupidity, that which sticks like glue, which weighs on one’s shoulders: the creatures who were looking at him were the most despicable fools on earth. Nevertheless, having no idea how much they knew, he imagined that they knew everything and felt himself stricken, in the presence of their sly amusement, by a paralysis shot through with hatred.

“Is it for a bird show?” his “boy” asked the other. “Don’t know.”

“Mine is a male.”

“Yes. Mine is a female.”

“It must be for that.”

The Englishman bowed before Ferral, went up to the porter. The latter handed him a letter. He read it, took out a visiting card from his pocketbook, attached it to the cage, said to the porter: “For Madame Serge,” and went out.

Ferral tried to bring himself to think, to defend himself. She had struck him at his most sensitive point, as though she had put his eyes out during his sleep: she denied him. What he might think, do, want, did not exist. This ridiculous scene was, nothing could prevent its having happened. He alone existed in a world of phantoms, and it was he, precisely he, who was being outraged. And to make matters worse-for he did not think of it as a consequence, but as one more blow in a succession of defeats, as if rage had made him a masochist- to make matters worse, he would not even be going to bed with her. More and more intent on avenging himself on that ironic body, he stood there alone, facing those nincompoops and the expressionless “boys” with their cages dangling from their arms. Those birds were a constant insult. But he must by all means remain. He ordered a cocktail and lighted a cigarette, then remained motionless, busy breaking up a match between his fingers in his coat-pocket. A couple attracted his eye. The man had the charm which gray hair gives to a youngish face; the woman-sweet, but a little flashy-was looking at him with an amorous gratitude born of tenderness or sensuality. “She loves him,” thought Ferral enviously. “And he’s undoubtedly some obscure fool who perhaps is dependent on one of my enterprises. ” He sent for the porter.