Iris Murdoch - The Book And The Brotherhood

‘The phrasing of your question betrays certain assumetions,' said Crimond, allowing himself', perhaps out of politeness, the faintest possible smile. 'Our present regime is "imposed", our old liberal notion of "consent" has faded away, we know that the gross injustice and the cowardly muddle which we see everywhere in this society cannot be remedied. The democratic state cannot govern, the people are in the streets – cannot you see the future in the streets of our cities? The conception of democratic parliamentary party government is now a barrier to thought which must be got rid of. The process of change itself is bringing into being new social structures which will in time embody a more positive and effective form of government by consent. Whether or not you call this one-party government is a question which will be obsolete when the transformation has taken place. And meanwhile – we shall be better prepared for the future if we see how terrible, how doomed, the present is, how much men suffer and hate, and how awful and how complete a revenge is already in preparation -'

'So you approve of terrorism?' said Gulliver.

'I don't like that emotive word,' said Crimond frowning. 'Our way of life rests upon violence, and invites it. Cases must be judged on their merits. Those who disapprove are usually those who don't care.'

‘Well, I don't like your not liking the word,' said Gulliver, ‘you are simply shirking the issue, and you insult us by implying that we don't care!'

'Oh, I think you are all awfully nice people,' said Crimond, looking not at Gull but at Gerard, 'who imagine that the nice whether will last your life-time. I think you are wrong.'

Gerard, adopting a calm reflective tone designed to cool the rising temperature, intervened. 'But your kind of "transformation" has already been tried, it leads to tyranny, to arrangements which are far more rigid and unjust and inefficient! We are imperfect, but we are a free open tolerant society governed by democratic process and law, we don't have to destroy ourselves to make changes, we are changing all the time, and mostly for the better, if you compare fifty years ago! Are we to throw all this away in return for some chimerical hypothetical utopia set up by a few activists after a violent revolution? You told me you weren't in touch with the working-class movement, you spoke just now of "mundane details" which didn't concern you, I think you're a solitary theorist, having interesting ideas, but nothing to do with real problems of power, or how societies really alter -'

'I don't believe he's out of touch,' said Gulliver, 'and I don't believe he's solitary either. He wants to smash this society. That's the only thing his lot can do, and that's real enough.

'Your whole picture of western civilisation is a "theory",' said Crimond to Gerard. 'Your whole way of life supports poverty and injustice, behind your civilised relationships there's a hell of misery and violence. What do dissidents do when they come to the west? They grieve, they fade, they find it all utterly hateful, they can see it. There's something called history, I don't just mean a concept invented by Hegel or Marx or perhaps Herodotus, I mean a deep strong relentless process of social change. That is what you simply refuse to notice. You think reality is ultimately good, and as you think you're good too you feel safe. You value yourselves because you're English. You live on books and conversation and mutual admiration and drink – you're all alcoholics – and, sentimental ideas of virtue. You have no energy, you are lazy people. The real heroes of our time are those who are brave enough to let go of the old dreamy self-centred self-satisfied morality and the old imperialistic moral person who was monarch of all he surveyed! For instance, we have to learn to live with machines, to think about how to live with machines, with computers, with information theory, with physics – the old complacent liberal individual is already lost, he's a flake, he's finished, he cannot constitute a value -'

'Oh stop!' said Rose. She was trembling with anger. 'You've sold your soul to -'

'Yes, I've sold it,' said Crimond, 'and I'm proud to have sold it, what's the use of a soul, that gilded idol of selfishness! I've sold it, and I'm going to do something with the power which I've got in exchange. That is the essence of the new world anti its new being. You all idolise your souls, that is yourselves. Ask whom you identify with, that will tell you your place and your class. The people of this planet are not like you, they must be served, they must be saved, the hungry sheep look up and are not fed -'

'You're poisoning them!' said Gulliver.

'Your "people" are abstractions,' said Rose, 'they're just a vague idea that feeds your sense of power, your sort of Marxism is old and done for, that's what's finished! You're not a new sort of' person, you're just an old-fashioned insolent power maniac who thinks he's superman! You say the individual doesn't exist – what about people who are starving in Africa -?'

'Your morality is sentiment,' said Crimond, 'I don't say it’s worthless, but it's mainly a matter of cherishing your conscience. You're awfully keen on ecology and helping animals, you deplore famine and you send a cheque, you deplore violence, then you can forget it for a while, you don't want to look at the real causes of what's wrong with the world. Why can’t we feed the planet, why are almost all human beings mere shreds of what they might be? There's a huge human potential, a higher finer stronger human consciousness, a whole adventure of our species which hasn't even started yet! Any of course there are problems to be solved, which you don't ever conceive of, let alone think about!'

‘This is too much,' said Rose, 'now you're saying things simply to offend us!'

'You're not very polite to me, if it comes to that. You asked me to come here. You can't think of any way of answering me, you can't even engage in intelligent conversation about my ideas, so you get angry!'

'You say we value being English,' said Gull. 'You've evidently got an inferiority complex about being Scottish, and not even a Highlander! I hate your ideas.'

'Well, I hate yours,' said Crimond, 'and you seem to hate everything since you lost your boyish charm.'

'Crimond -!’ said Gerard.

Rose said, 'I hate bullies, and you're one!'

Crimond said, 'You all envy me because I can think, I can work, I can concentrate, I can write. All you can do is puff with indignation.'

Jenkin, who had for some time been looking down at a piece of paper which Gull had passed him which read Vile hateful CHARLATAN, said, 'Look, David, it won't do.’

Crimond said, 'What won't do? Exchanging insults? I entirely agree. I’m just going.

‘No, I mean your whole position. There's a large lie in it somewhere.'

'Oh I daresay. But there are no hard surfaces in your world. To shift things you have to exaggerate a bit!'

'You've evidently decided not to finish your book, because you know it's no bloody good and you're afraid to show it!’ said Gulliver.

`The only one of you who's worth tuppence ha'penny is Jenkin,' said Crimond, getting up, 'and he's a fool. By the way, I had better tell you that I've just finished the book, so you needn't pay me any more money, if that's what you're worrying about.'

Crimond had gone. Rose was in tears. Gerard had brought in some sherry, to which Gulliver was helping himself. Jenkin was standing at the window looking out at the yellowish haze outside.

'Talk about home truths!' said Gull, who was feeling ashamed of having lost his temper and angry that he had let Crimond taunt him. The sherry was making him less ashamed and more angry.