Iris Murdoch - The Book And The Brotherhood

‘If it was secret I would be unlikely to tell you – but no, I don't belong to any group of that sort.'

‘You're a lone wolf?'

'Yes – now.'

'You did belong-? Why did you leave?'

'Because of the book. I didn't want to waste time arguing with people who understood nothing.'

Gerard was beginning to relax. He thought, it's all right after all, it is a philosophical book, it's a harmless theoretical work. We've been making a fuss about nothing. 'So it's a theoretical book?'

'Of course.'

'Would you still call yourself a Marxist?'

'Yes. But that doesn't give much information these days.'

`You're a revisionist?'

'I'm not a Stalinist if that's what that question means I’m not a Leninist either. I don't like the term revisionist. I'm in the Marxist stream.'

'Whom do you follow?'

"Follow?"

'Well, whose views do you discuss in the book, whom do you endorse?'

'No one.'

'You mean it's detached, it's a sort of history of ideas? I'm glad to hear that -'

'Any book about politics mentions past ideas, Hegel, Marx and Lenin mention past ideas.'

'You'd call it a political book?'

'Yes, of course!'

'But whose politics?'

'My politics!'

'You mean it's an original book of political philosophy,

'It's an original book,' said Crimond in an exasperated tone. 'Do you imagine I'd work like a demon for years and years just to mull over somebody else's thoughts? These are my thoughts, my analyses, my prophecies, my programme.'

'So it's not a philosophy book?'

'How weird your categories are! It's philosophy, if you like-but what does that mean – it's thinking, and it's a programme of action. That's its point.'

'So it's like a very long pamphlet?'

'No. It's not a long simplification. It's about everything.'

'Everything?'

'Everything except Aristotle. I regard him as an unfortunate interlude, now happily over.'

'We can agree on that.' Gerard ventured a faint smile, but Crimond was glaring at the surface of the table which he was beginning to scratch intently with his finger nail. Gerard decided not to stop him. 'But, Crimond, if, as you say, you've cut yourself ofrfrom ordinary practical politics and become a lone wolf, how can you talk about a programme of action? You claim to be a Marxist, so you know that politics is very fine work, you've got to be inside it all the time, pushing and pulling, to get anything done at all. Or do you imagine that you can institute a revolution by propounding a theory?'

Crimond stopped scratching the table and stared at Gerard with his blue eyes wide open and his thin mouth thrust forward. His long nose, his whole face, pointed fiercely at Gerard. Perhaps he's really a bit mad, Gerard wondered, I never seriously thought that before. As Crimond did not answer his question Gerard went on, speaking quietly and paciently. 'A reflective book can be very valuable and can do more good. So if what you call your "programme" is all wrapped up in ideas, so much the better.'

'Hernshaw,' said Crimond, 'I am not, as you seem to imagine, mad, I am not a megalomaniac -'

'All right!'

'I just happen to believe that I am writing a very important book.’

The door of the dining room opened abruptly and Patricia put her head in, then entered. 'Hello, you two, would you like some coffee?'

'No, thanks,' said Gerard, then to Crimond, 'would you? No? Pat, you remember Crimond, you met ages ago I think. My sister Patricia.'

Crimond, who had risen, and clearly did not remember her, bowed slightly.

‘Or tea, or some sherry? Or biscuits?'

'No. Pat dear, do leave us alone!'

The door closed. Crimond sat down. Gerard was wondering what thread to pick up when Crimond, who had returned to inspecting the table, threw back his head and ruffled up his reddish hair and said, 'I gather you've retired, what are you going to do?'

'Write,' said Gerard, irritated by Crimond's brusque tone.

‘What about?'

‘Plotinus.'

'Why? You're not a historian, and you can hardly call youself a philosopher. You probably stopped thinking long ago. What you did in the civil service wasn't thinking, you could do that job in your sleep. Thinking is agony. Your book on Plotinus will turn out to be an article on Porphyry.'

`We'll see,' said Gerard, determined to keep his temper. Was there going to be a row after all?

'Do you believe in God?'

'Of course not!' said Gerard.

`You do, you know. You've felt superior all your life. You think you're saved by the Idea of the Good just because you know about it. The planet goes down in flames but you and your friends feel secure. You attach too much importance to friendship.'

'If this is to become a slanging match it had better end here. I wanted to get an impression of you and your book, and I've got it.'

`You've never really cared for anything except your parrot.’

Gerard was astounded. 'How on earth did you know -?’

`His name was Grey. You told me about him on the very first occasion when we met, when we walked back from a lecture and we went into the Botanical Garden and into the greenhouse. Do you remember?'

Gerard did not remember. 'No.' He was amazed and upset. 'I never told anybody. I certainly don't recall telling you.'

'Well, you did. I'm sorry, don't get angry. And what I said just now was nonsense, just spite. I do want to talk to you though. Our second innings, perhaps, to use Raffles's terminology.'

'I see no parallel,'said Gerard, recovering. 'We never had first innings. But go on.'

'You've forgotten that too. A second innings is always played differently. Never mind. Another of your troubles is that you're afraid of technology.'

'Perhaps you don't mind the idea of a world without books?'

'It's inevitable, so it must be understood, it must be embraced, even loved.'

'So after all you turn out to be a historical materialist! What about your book?'

'It will perish with the rest. Plato, Shakespeare, Hegel, they'll all burn, and I shall burn too. But before that my book will have had a certain influence, that's its point, that's what I've been striving for all these years, that little bit of influence. That’s what's worth doing, and it's the only thing that's worth doing now , to look at the future and make some sense of it and touch it. Look, Gerard, I don't think I'm God, I don't think I'm Hegel, I don't even think I'm Feuerbach-‘

‘All right, all right.'

‘I just belong to now, I'm doing what has to be done now, I'm living the history of our time, which you and your friends seem to be entirely unaware of -'

‘All right, what about what has to be done now? What about poverty and hunger and injustice? What about practical politics and social work? '

‘Don’t misunderstand me-'

‘And please don't scrape the table with your finger nails.’

‘Sorry. Of course we have to deal with poverty and injustice. People like you donate money to charities and then forget it all As for social work you've never been near it in your life, it's something which other inferior people do. One has to think radically about these problems -'

‘You believe in revolution, in violent revolution?'

‘All revolutions are violent, with or without barricades. There will be revolution so we must think revolution.'

‘Perhaps we've reached the stage where you can tell me why you don't believe in parliamentary democracy?'

‘It's obvious. As a form of authority it can't survive. The world in the next century is going to look more like Africa than like Europe. We've got to have the courage to try to understand the whole of history and make genuine predictions. That’s why Marxism is the only philosophy in the world today.’