Roberto Arlt - The Seven Madmen

“I’d define this ‘revolutionary agitation’ as a kind of collective unrest, incapable of finding its true goal: everyone is on edge, their passions aroused; the newspapers stir things up still further, and the police add their bit by arresting innocent people who become revolutionaries after all they suffer at their hands; everyone wakes up in the morning anxious for the latest news, hoping to hear of an even more terrifying act of terror than before, which would confirm their worst suspicions; police brutality only further inflames the anger of those who suffer it, until some hot-head empties his pistol into a cop’s chest. The workers’ organisations start to react and declare strikes; the words ‘revolution’ and ‘bolshevism’ spread fear and hope everywhere. Then, when a whole series of bombs have gone off all over the city, when all the leaflets have been read, and the revolutionary agitation has reached its peak, that’s the moment for us military people to step in …”

The Major moved his boots out of a shaft of sunlight and went on:

“Yes, we military people will step in. We will say that in view of the government’s evident inability to defend the institutions of the fatherland, business or the family, we are taking over the state, and declaring a temporary dictatorship. All dictatorships are by definition temporary: that helps boost confidence. Bourgeois capitalists, and above all, right-wing foreign governments will immediately recognise the new regime. We will blame the ‘soviets’ for forcing us to act this way, and shoot a few poor devils who have been caught and have confessed to making bombs. We will close both houses of parliament, and reduce state spending to a minimum. Administration of the state will be in the hands of the military. In this way, Argentina will achieve an unheard-of grandeur.”

The Major fell silent. Everyone in the flowery summer-house burst into applause. A pigeon flew off.

“Your idea is fabulous,” said Erdosain, “but it means we’d all be working for you …”

“Didn’t you want to be leaders?”

“Yes, but all we’ll get will be the crumbs from the feast.”

“No, sir, you’re mistaken … the idea is …”

The Astrologer cut in:

“Gentlemen … we haven’t come here to discuss the future direction of our organisation, but to plan the activities of each cell leader. If you agree, we can get started.”

A good-looking young man who had not said a word until now raised his voice: “D’you mind if I say something?”

“No, of course not …”

“Well then, I think the first thing to sort out is: do you want to bring about a revolution or not? The organisational details can wait till later.”

“That’s right, they come later … yes, you’re right.”

The stranger finally explained who he was.

“I’m a friend of Haffner’s. A lawyer. I’ve given up the benefits my profession could offer me because I wanted no truck with the capitalist system. Do I have the right to say what I think?”

“Yes, of course you do.”

“Well then, I think that what the Major has said changes the whole direction of our society.”

“No,” the Gold Prospector objected. “It could be its starting point, without affecting any of the other principles.”

“Of course.”

“That’s right.”

The discussion was about to start up again. The Astrologer got to his feet:

“Gentlemen, leave the debate for another day. What concerns us now is not ideas, but the commercial organisation of our group. I therefore propose we leave out anything not directly related to that.”

“But that’s dictatorship,” the lawyer burst out. The Astrologer stared him in the eye for a moment, then said pointedly:

“It seems to me you see yourself as a born leader … and I think you’re right. If you’re smart, you should set about organising another society separate from ours. That way, we can both help bring about the collapse of the present system. But here, either you obey me, or you leave.”

The two men faced each other for a few moments; then the lawyer stood up, stared at the Astrologer one last time, nodded a hard man’s smile and walked out.

The ensuing silence was finally broken by the Major’s voice. He said to the Astrologer: “You were quite right to act as you did. Discipline is fundamental to everything. We’re listening.”

Diamond-shaped patches of sun threw their golden mosaic on to the summer-house’s black earthen floor. The sound of an anvil could be heard from a distant blacksmith’s; in the branches of the trees countless birds began to warble. Erdosain was chewing on a white honeysuckle flower, while the Gold Prospector sat with elbows on knees, staring at the floor.

The Thug was smoking; Erdosain examined the Astrologer’s mongoloid features, his grey smock buttoned to the neck.

An awkward silence followed the Major’s words: what did this intruder want from them? Suddenly annoyed, Erdosain stood up and protested:

“There can be as much discipline as you like in this, but it’s absurd to be talking about a military dictatorship. All we are interested in is for the armed forces to join our revolutionary movement.”

The Major sat upright in his chair and smiled at Erdosain:

“So you admit I played my role well?”

“Role?”

“Yes, that’s right … I’m as much a Major as you are.”

“Do you see how powerful a lie can be?” said the Astrologer. “I disguised my friend here as an officer, and that — despite the fact that you’re pretty much in on the secret — was enough for you all to believe there would be a revolution in the army.” 3

“So what?”

“So, this was nothing more than a rehearsal, but some day we’ll act out the drama for real.”

The Astrologer’s words were so chilling that the four other men sat watching the Major, who now said:

“In fact, I never got any higher than a sergeant” — but the Astrologer cut short his explanation by saying:

“What about you, Haffner, do you have the proposed budget?”

“Yes … here it is.”

The Astrologer leafed through the figures scrawled on several sheets of paper, then explained to his audience: “The brothels are the surest way our secret society has of making money.”

He went on:

“Our friend here has given me a budget for the installation of a brothel with ten girls. This is a list of the costs:

Ten second-hand sets of bedroom furniture

$2,000

Monthly rent

$400

Three months’ deposit

$1,200

Installation of kitchen, bathrooms, bar

$2,000

Monthly pay-off to police inspector

$300

Pay-off to doctor

$150

Pay-off to local politician for licence

$2,000

Monthly local taxes

$50

Electric piano

$1,500

Manageress

$150

Cook

$150

TOTAL

$9,900

“Each girl will put in fourteen pesos a week for her food, and will have to buy all the tea, sugar, kerosene, candles, stockings, powders, soap and perfumes that she needs from the establishment.”

The Astrologer was in his stride:

“Over and above our expenses, we can count on a minimum income of 2,500 pesos a month. That means we’ll have recovered the capital invested within four months. With half of the money we make we’ll set up other brothels, we’ll use a quarter of it to pay off our debts, and the rest can be used to support our revolutionary cells. Does everyone approve the expenditure of 10,000 pesos?”

Everybody nodded, except for the Gold Prospector, who asked: “Who’ll be the accountant?”

“We can choose him once everything is set up.”

“All right then.”

“Are you with us too, Major?”