Ozark Trilogy 2: The Grand Jubilee by Suzette Haden Elgin Page B
Authors: Suzette Haden Elgin
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about a woman?”
The Granny had gripped her cane till her knuckles gleamed like pearls. “There is nothing, ” she said in a terrible voice like ice grinding together, “more despicable than a woman who cannot Cope! ”
Thump!
“You remember that now!” she told them. “You keep that firmly in mind!”
“It’s not fair!” It had run all around the circle, where they were sitting on the floor with their legs tucked neatly under them. “It’s not fair atall!” And she’d turned on them, brandishing the cane over their heads-Responsible remembered how that cane had seemed ready to crash down upon her head, and how she’d trembled-and she’d said, “ Fair! This is the real world, and it is as it is. Let me never hear any more from you about fair! ”
She jumped, then, no longer a five-year-old at Granny School, once again a woman near grown watching a foolish man and listening to his useless words. The word that had made her jump, thundering out of the wall, had been “Jubilee!” She had missed, in her reverie, the part where he’d compared all those tribulations of Old Earth with the tribulations he now claimed to see building on Ozark, and had laid them at the feet of the Confederation of Continents.
It didn’t matter, she’d heard it from him before, along with the part about the money wasted by the Confederation that should be staying in the treasuries of the individual Kingdoms where it belonged, where it had been honestly earned and should be honestly disbursed. She knew where he was in the speech-it was time now to make the motion to dissolve the Confederation-and what was he yelling Jubilee about? She leaned toward the wall, not wanting to miss this.
“A Jubilee!” he was saying, voice like butter melting, voice like syrup on cakes, voice like rosy velvet against the cheek, “A Jubilee is a time of rejoicing and coming together in celebration. And I wouldn’t have you think I begrudge you your Jubilee-you have earned your Jubilee. I do not propose to take it from you. What I propose . . . what I propose is that we make this a new Jubilee, a true Jubilee, a Jubilee in honor of the celebration that will then go on for all the days that remain of this week! A celebration not of serfdom, not of slavery, but of independence! A celebration of our decision to stand upon our own feet at long, long last, sovereign states governing themselves as befits men . . . no more cowering under the skirts of Brightwater! Let us, my dear friends, oh my dear friends, let us celebrate not the Jubilee of the Confederation -but the Jubilee of Independence!”
The whooping and the cheering and the shouts of “I so move!” and “Second the motion!” came through loud and clear, and Responsible had to admit, much as she despised to do it, that that had been a clever touch. Grim old Jeremiah Thomas, he’d managed to get rid of the role of ghost at the feast, managed to paint himself benevolent and warm of heart and in favor of people enjoying themselves-and at the same time, the motion to dissolve the Confederation permanently had been passed and set up for debate, just as he’d wanted it to be.
She reached up and switched off the comset, no longer interested. It would be the standard procedure now, and it would take all of the following day at least. Every Senior Delegate would be allowed to speak to the question, first of all. Then every Junior Delegate, should any of them want to add something-and most were sure to, they had so few opportunities to be heard. And after that, there’d be the round of rebuttals, when anybody that wished to raise objections to the speeches could put that in. And the final summing up by the Chair . . . all of that, before the motion could be put to a vote. It would be tedious.
She could count on some of them. The McDaniels, the Clarks, and the Airys, for sure; she could count on them to point out and underline what it was going to be like for the frontier continents with no
The Granny had gripped her cane till her knuckles gleamed like pearls. “There is nothing, ” she said in a terrible voice like ice grinding together, “more despicable than a woman who cannot Cope! ”
Thump!
“You remember that now!” she told them. “You keep that firmly in mind!”
“It’s not fair!” It had run all around the circle, where they were sitting on the floor with their legs tucked neatly under them. “It’s not fair atall!” And she’d turned on them, brandishing the cane over their heads-Responsible remembered how that cane had seemed ready to crash down upon her head, and how she’d trembled-and she’d said, “ Fair! This is the real world, and it is as it is. Let me never hear any more from you about fair! ”
She jumped, then, no longer a five-year-old at Granny School, once again a woman near grown watching a foolish man and listening to his useless words. The word that had made her jump, thundering out of the wall, had been “Jubilee!” She had missed, in her reverie, the part where he’d compared all those tribulations of Old Earth with the tribulations he now claimed to see building on Ozark, and had laid them at the feet of the Confederation of Continents.
It didn’t matter, she’d heard it from him before, along with the part about the money wasted by the Confederation that should be staying in the treasuries of the individual Kingdoms where it belonged, where it had been honestly earned and should be honestly disbursed. She knew where he was in the speech-it was time now to make the motion to dissolve the Confederation-and what was he yelling Jubilee about? She leaned toward the wall, not wanting to miss this.
“A Jubilee!” he was saying, voice like butter melting, voice like syrup on cakes, voice like rosy velvet against the cheek, “A Jubilee is a time of rejoicing and coming together in celebration. And I wouldn’t have you think I begrudge you your Jubilee-you have earned your Jubilee. I do not propose to take it from you. What I propose . . . what I propose is that we make this a new Jubilee, a true Jubilee, a Jubilee in honor of the celebration that will then go on for all the days that remain of this week! A celebration not of serfdom, not of slavery, but of independence! A celebration of our decision to stand upon our own feet at long, long last, sovereign states governing themselves as befits men . . . no more cowering under the skirts of Brightwater! Let us, my dear friends, oh my dear friends, let us celebrate not the Jubilee of the Confederation -but the Jubilee of Independence!”
The whooping and the cheering and the shouts of “I so move!” and “Second the motion!” came through loud and clear, and Responsible had to admit, much as she despised to do it, that that had been a clever touch. Grim old Jeremiah Thomas, he’d managed to get rid of the role of ghost at the feast, managed to paint himself benevolent and warm of heart and in favor of people enjoying themselves-and at the same time, the motion to dissolve the Confederation permanently had been passed and set up for debate, just as he’d wanted it to be.
She reached up and switched off the comset, no longer interested. It would be the standard procedure now, and it would take all of the following day at least. Every Senior Delegate would be allowed to speak to the question, first of all. Then every Junior Delegate, should any of them want to add something-and most were sure to, they had so few opportunities to be heard. And after that, there’d be the round of rebuttals, when anybody that wished to raise objections to the speeches could put that in. And the final summing up by the Chair . . . all of that, before the motion could be put to a vote. It would be tedious.
She could count on some of them. The McDaniels, the Clarks, and the Airys, for sure; she could count on them to point out and underline what it was going to be like for the frontier continents with no
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