propaganda. As a worker, you are fit only for the best.’
Murdoch, having tried to exchange humorously desperate glances with Tommy the urchin, who was too serious to be humorous, said: ‘For all that, I don’t understand half of what you say, comrade.’ His tone was still weakly rueful. Under the peremptory urging of Anton’s eyes he sat up, however, and said differently, in a manly responsible tone: ‘But I’m willing. I’m willing to learn if you are willing to teach.’
Comrade Anton turned to Tommy. ‘Comrade Tommy, did you really not understand what I said?’
‘I understood the general thing,’ said Tommy apologetically. ‘But a lot of the words you used were too long.’
‘Then I’m sorry. You must correct me in future. It was always my worst fault. But in a foreign language it is not always the easiest, to find the right words.’
‘You speak English better than me,’ said Tommy, with a mixture of admiration and hostility.
‘Foreigners always speak English better than the English,’ said Marjorie, with such a warmth of admiration for Anton that he glanced up, giving her the small paternal indulgent smile she was used to receive. But Colin Black was admiring her with his eyes; Anton’s face darkened, and he said, looking around the room: ‘And so now, are we all going to work at our theory?’
At this, one of the airmen, who had not spoken at all, a very tall untidy youth with a pale bony face under a lank mass of black hair, said: ‘I would remind you, comrades, that theory should be linked with practice.’
Anton said: ‘You’ve been in the Party?’ He did not say of course, but it was in his manner: the young man’s tone had been as authoritative as his own.
‘Three years,’ said the airman.
‘You are quite right. We do not forget the unity of theory and practice. But before we put our ideas into practice, we need to know what our ideas are. In short, we need to analyse the situation …’ He acknowledged the indulgent glances of the old gang – Jasmine, Martha, Marjorie and Andrew – with an impatient movement of his shoulders. ‘We need, I say, to analyse the situation. Before we can analyse it, we need to discuss it. Before we can discuss it, we need to organize ourselves in such a way that the group has the benefit of the experience and knowledge of every comrade in it. Therefore, we need now to discuss organization.’
‘For the want of a nail the battle was lost,’ said Marie du Preez, smiling humorously. But the humour faded from her face as Anton turned to her and said: ‘Precisely so. We are Marxists – or so called. We therefore apply our minds to an existing situation and act accordingly.’
Marie gave the smallest swallow of resigned amusement, while her husband grinned broadly sideways at her lowered cheek.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said Anton, and waited.
‘I formally propose,’ said Andrew, ‘that Comrade Hesse should put forward his plan for the organization of the group.’
‘Agreed,’ said Jasmine. No one disagreed.
Anton proposed that there should be a formal group meeting every week, attendance obligatory, for group business, reports on work done, criticism and self-criticism. Also, that there should be a meeting every week, attendance obligatory, for Marxist education. Also, that there should be a meeting every week, attendance obligatory, for education in political organization.
‘That’s three evenings,’ said the stern dark young man. ‘Some of us don’t get that off in a week.’
‘And what about my girl-friend?’ said Murdoch, waggishly: but Anton said; ‘Never mind your girl-friend,’ and he subsided, with a loud sigh.
Three evenings being out of the question, and it being pointed out that this small group of people were committed to running half a dozen of the town’s most lively and demanding organizations, it was agreed that there should be one obligatory group meeting, which would combine education with organization. That
Murdoch, having tried to exchange humorously desperate glances with Tommy the urchin, who was too serious to be humorous, said: ‘For all that, I don’t understand half of what you say, comrade.’ His tone was still weakly rueful. Under the peremptory urging of Anton’s eyes he sat up, however, and said differently, in a manly responsible tone: ‘But I’m willing. I’m willing to learn if you are willing to teach.’
Comrade Anton turned to Tommy. ‘Comrade Tommy, did you really not understand what I said?’
‘I understood the general thing,’ said Tommy apologetically. ‘But a lot of the words you used were too long.’
‘Then I’m sorry. You must correct me in future. It was always my worst fault. But in a foreign language it is not always the easiest, to find the right words.’
‘You speak English better than me,’ said Tommy, with a mixture of admiration and hostility.
‘Foreigners always speak English better than the English,’ said Marjorie, with such a warmth of admiration for Anton that he glanced up, giving her the small paternal indulgent smile she was used to receive. But Colin Black was admiring her with his eyes; Anton’s face darkened, and he said, looking around the room: ‘And so now, are we all going to work at our theory?’
At this, one of the airmen, who had not spoken at all, a very tall untidy youth with a pale bony face under a lank mass of black hair, said: ‘I would remind you, comrades, that theory should be linked with practice.’
Anton said: ‘You’ve been in the Party?’ He did not say of course, but it was in his manner: the young man’s tone had been as authoritative as his own.
‘Three years,’ said the airman.
‘You are quite right. We do not forget the unity of theory and practice. But before we put our ideas into practice, we need to know what our ideas are. In short, we need to analyse the situation …’ He acknowledged the indulgent glances of the old gang – Jasmine, Martha, Marjorie and Andrew – with an impatient movement of his shoulders. ‘We need, I say, to analyse the situation. Before we can analyse it, we need to discuss it. Before we can discuss it, we need to organize ourselves in such a way that the group has the benefit of the experience and knowledge of every comrade in it. Therefore, we need now to discuss organization.’
‘For the want of a nail the battle was lost,’ said Marie du Preez, smiling humorously. But the humour faded from her face as Anton turned to her and said: ‘Precisely so. We are Marxists – or so called. We therefore apply our minds to an existing situation and act accordingly.’
Marie gave the smallest swallow of resigned amusement, while her husband grinned broadly sideways at her lowered cheek.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said Anton, and waited.
‘I formally propose,’ said Andrew, ‘that Comrade Hesse should put forward his plan for the organization of the group.’
‘Agreed,’ said Jasmine. No one disagreed.
Anton proposed that there should be a formal group meeting every week, attendance obligatory, for group business, reports on work done, criticism and self-criticism. Also, that there should be a meeting every week, attendance obligatory, for Marxist education. Also, that there should be a meeting every week, attendance obligatory, for education in political organization.
‘That’s three evenings,’ said the stern dark young man. ‘Some of us don’t get that off in a week.’
‘And what about my girl-friend?’ said Murdoch, waggishly: but Anton said; ‘Never mind your girl-friend,’ and he subsided, with a loud sigh.
Three evenings being out of the question, and it being pointed out that this small group of people were committed to running half a dozen of the town’s most lively and demanding organizations, it was agreed that there should be one obligatory group meeting, which would combine education with organization. That
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