Roberto Arlt - The Seven Madmen

“But are you a complete cynic, or a madman?”

Erdosain cast a disgusted glance at Barsut. How could he be so stupid and unreceptive to the beauty of the Astrologer’s plans? He thought to himself: “This wild beast is jealous of his magnificent madness. That’s what it is. He’s going to have to be killed.”

“I’m both. We’ll choose someone in between Krishnamurti and Rudolph Valentino, but more mystical: a child whose strange features symbolise all the world’s suffering. Our films will be shown in the poor districts, in the shanty towns. Can you imagine the impact on the lumpen of the sight of this pale god resurrecting a dead man, or of someone like the archangel Gabriel watching over the gold-mining works, or the metal shipments? Not to mention the alluring prostitutes just waiting to give themselves to the first poor unfortunate who arrives? We’ll be flooded with requests to go and work in the King of the World’s lost city and enjoy the delights of free love … out of all that riff-raff we’ll choose the least educated … and once we’ve got them down there, we’ll thrash all the spirit out of them and force them to work twenty hours a day panning gold.”

“I thought you were on the side of the workers.”

“When I talk to one of them, I’ll be a Red. But now I’m talking to you, and I’m telling you: my secret society is inspired by one organised at the start of the ninth century by a bandit called Abdala-Abn-Maimum. Of course, he didn’t have the industrial element I’m adding to mine, which will guarantee its success. Maimum wanted to bring together the free-thinkers, aristocrats and believers from two such disparate races as the Persians and Arabs in a sect that he built on a hierarchy of initiation and mystery. They told the most barefaced lies to everyone. They promised the Jews the Messiah would come, the Christians the arrival of the Paraclete, the Moslems that of the Mahdi … and they did it to such good effect that a throng of people with widely different opinions, social backgrounds and beliefs, ended up working for an organisation whose real aim was known to only a select few. In this way, Maimum hoped to rule the whole world of Islam. Permit me to tell you that the leaders of the movement were incredible cynics, who believed in absolutely nothing. We’ll follow their example. We’ll be bolsheviks, Catholics, fascists, atheists or militarists, depending on the level of initiation.”

“You’re the most shameless swindler I’ve ever met … If it worked …”

Barsut felt a strange satisfaction at insulting the Astrologer. The fact was he could not admit he was in any way inferior to him. Moreover, there was something he found deeply humiliating, however absurd it might seem, and that was the shocking fact that Erdosain could have become the close friend of someone of this calibre. He said to himself: “How can it be that this idiot is a friend of someone like him?” That was why he was convinced that he was right always to contradict the Astrologer.

“It will work, because gold is the lure. The success of our organisation will be judged by the profits our businesses generate. One source of income will be the brothels. Erdosain has invented a machine to enable us to check how many clients each girl has every day. Then there are the donations, and a new industry we’re hoping to launch: manufacturing copper roses, another of Erdosain’s inventions. Perhaps now you can understand why we kidnapped you.”

“What good is that if I’m your prisoner?”

At that moment, Erdosain suddenly thought how strange it was that Barsut never once threatened the Astrologer with revenge if he ever managed to get free. This led him to say to himself: “We have to be very careful with this Judas, he’s capable of selling us not for pieces of silver, but out of jealousy.”

The Astrologer went on:

“Your money will enable us to set up a brothel, organise our first expedition and buy tools, install a telegraph office, and whatever else we need for the gold panning.”

“And you won’t admit the possibility of failure?”

“Yes, I will … but I’ll go on as if there were no doubt. Besides, a secret society is like a huge steam engine. The steam it produces can just as easily move a crane as a ventilator.”

“But what is it you want to move?”

“A mountain of inert flesh. We, the select few, want — need — all the marvellous earthly powers. We’ll consider ourselves fortunate if through our atrocities we can terrorise the weak and arouse the strong. To do that we need to build our own strength, to revolutionise awareness, exalt barbarity. And the immense mysterious power that can set all this in motion is our secret organisation. We’ll bring back the Inquisition, we’ll burn all those who don’t believe in God at the stake. How can it be that people haven’t realised how extraordinarily beautiful it is to burn someone alive? And for not believing in God, d’you get that, for not believing in God! Can’t you see that it’s necessary, absolutely necessary, for a dark, awe-inspiring religion to take hold of men’s hearts once more? For everyone to fall on their knees as a saint passes by, or for the prayers of the humblest of priests to bring about a miracle in the evening sky? Ah, if only you knew how often I’ve dreamt of this! And what gives me hope is knowing how the progress and misery of this century of ours have knocked so many people off balance. And all those eccentrics who can’t find their way in society are so much wasted energy. Put together two simpletons and a cynic in even the most down-and-out local café and you’ve got three geniuses. These geniuses don’t work, they don’t produce anything … I agree with you, they’re no more than tinsel geniuses … but that tinsel represents an energy we can channel into creating the basis for a new and powerful movement. Those are the tools I intend to use.”

“So you’ll be a manager of madmen.”

“That’s it exactly. I want to be a manager of madmen, of all the countless apocryphal geniuses, of all the crazy people who can’t find a place in spiritualist or bolshevik groups … all the lunatics … and I’m telling you this because I have plenty of experience of them … if they’re properly duped, and their passions aroused, they’re capable of doing things that would make your hair stand on end. All the coffee-bar intellectuals. All the backyard inventors, parish prophets, café politicians, the social club philosophers: they’re the ones who’ll be the cannon fodder of our secret society.”

Erdosain smiled. Then, without looking at their chained prisoner, he said: “You’ve no idea how insufferably arrogant all those bordering on genius can be …”

“Yes, until they’re properly understood, isn’t that right, Barsut?”

“I’m not interested.”

“But you should be, because you’re going to be one of us. This is what I think. Tell one of these borderline people outright that he’s not a genius, and he heaps all the insolence and crassness of someone who’s misunderstood on your head. But if you systematically flatter these self-obsessed monsters, then that same person who would have murdered you at the slightest excuse becomes your willing slave. All you have to do is feed him a grandiose lie in proper doses. Then, inventor or poet, he’ll do all you ask of him.”

“So you think you’re a genius too?” growled Barsut.

“Yes, I do, of course … but only for five minutes a day … though the truth is, it doesn’t bother me that much. Words don’t matter to those born to act. It’s all the borderline people who get puffed up with empty phrases. I have set myself this conundrum, which has nothing to do with my own intellectual capacities: can mankind be happy? And the first people I am approaching for an answer are these malcontents. As a goal, I offer them a lie which will bring them happiness by inflating their vanity … so those same poor devils who, left to their own devices, would be nothing more than objects of pity, will become the precious raw material we use to produce power … steam …”