'Ai gamisou. Theh gamiesei.'
The doctor bridled at these insults and these invitations to fuck off,
and he slapped his glass down on the table. 'Paidia, paidia, this is
enough. We have this unpleasantness every morning. I have always been a
Venizelist; I am not a monarchist, and I am not a Communist. I disagree
with both of you, but I cure Stamatis' deafness and I burn out Kokolios'
warts. This is how we should be. We should care for each other more than we
care for ideas, or else we will end up killing each other. Am I not right?'
'You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs,' quoted Kokolios,
looking at Stamatis significantly.
'I don't like your omelettes,' said Stamatis. 'It's made with bad eggs,
it tastes foul, and it makes me shit.'
'The revolution will plug your backside,' said Kokolios, adding, 'a fair
share of what little we have, the means of production in the hands of the
producers, the equal obligation of all to work.'
'You don't work any more than you have to,' commented Father Arsenios in
his slow bass voice.
'You don't work at all, Patir. You grow fatter every day. Everything is
given to you for nothing. You are a parasite.'
Arsenios wiped his plump hands on his black robes, and the doctor said,
'There is such a thing as an indispensable parasite. There are parasitic
bacteria in the gut that aid digestion. I am not a religious man, I am a
materialist, but even I can see that priests are a kind of bacteria that
enable people to find life digestible. Father Arsenios has done many useful
things for those who seek consolation; he is a member of every family, and
he is the family for those who don't have one.'
'Thank you, Iatre,' said the priest. 'I never thought I would hear such
praise from such a notoriously godless man. I have never seen you in
church.'
'Empedocles said that God is a circle whose centre is everywhere and
whose circumference is nowhere. If that is true, then I don't need to go to
church. And I don't need to believe the same things as you to see that you
have a purpose. Now let's smoke and drink our coffee in peace. If we can't
stop arguing in here, then I am going to start having breakfast at home.'
'The doctor is thinking of becoming a heretic indeed, though I agree with
him that our priest is a great comforter of widows,' said Kokolios,
grinning. 'I couldn't have some of your tobacco, could I? I am running
out.'
'Kokolios, since you maintain that all property is theft, it follows that
you should give us all a fair share of what little you have. Pass over your
tin and I shall finish it for you. Fair's fair. Be a good Communist. Or is
it only other people who have to share their property in utopia?'
'When the revolution comes, Iatre, there will be a sufficiency for
everyone. In the meantime, pass me your pouch, and I shall return the
favour another time.'
The doctor passed over his tobacco and Kokolios stuffed his nargiles
contentedly. 'What's the news of the war?'
The doctor twisted the ends of his moustache and said, 'Germany is taking
everything, the Italians are playing the fool, the French have run away,
the Belgians have been overrun whilst they were looking the other way, the
Poles have been charging tanks with cavalry, the Americans have been
playing baseball, the British have been drinking tea and adjusting their
monocles, the Russians have been sitting on their hands except when voting
unanimously to do whatever they are told. Thank God we are out of it. Why
don't we turn on the radio?'
-- pp 52-54, Corelli's Mandolin, by Louis de Bernieres, Vintage
International: New York, 1995.
Louis de Bernieres was born in 1954. After four disastrous months in the
British army, he left for a village in Colombia, where he worked as a
teacher in the morning and a cowboy in the afternoon. He returned to
England, where he was employed as a mechanic, a landscape gardener, and a
groundsman at a mental hospital. He has published a trilogy of tragicomic
novels: The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts, Senor Vivo and the Coca
Lord, and The Troublesome Offspring of Cardinal Guzman.
>From Robin Greenwood. Email: rgoodale@electrotex.com