FROM THE BLACK NOTEBOOK
"Yes," said Maryrose.
"Yes," I said.
"Willi?" asked Paul, making an issue of it.
"Probably not," said Willi, reading.
211
"Women are tender," said Paul. "They will watch us eat, toying
the while with Mrs. Boothby's good roast beef, making delicate little
mouths of distaste, loving us all the more for our brutality."
"Like the Mashona women and the Matabele," said Jimmy.
"I like to think of those days," said Paul, settling down with his
rifle at the ready, watching the trees. "So simple. Simple people
killing each other for good reasons, lands, women, food. Not like us.
Not like us at all.
As
for us-do you know what is going to happen?
I will tell you.
As
a result of the work of fine comrades like Willi,
ever-ready to devote themselves to others, or people like me, con–
cerned only with profits, I predict that in fifty years all this fine
empty country we see stretching before us filled only with butterflies
and grasshoppers will be covered by semi-detached houses filled by
well-clothed black workers."
"And what is the matter with that?" enquired Willi.
"It is progress," said Paul.
"Yes it is," said Willi.
"Why should they be semi-detatched houses?" enquired Jimmy,
very seriously. He had moments of being serious about the socialist
future. "Under a socialist government there'll be beautiful houses
in their own gardens or big flats."
"My dear Jimmy!" said Paul. "What a pity you are so bored by
economics. Socialist or capitalist-in either case, all this fine ground,
suitable for development, will be developed at a rate possible for
seriously undercapitalised countries-are you listening, Comrade
Willi?"
"I am listening."
"And because a government faced with the necessity of housing a
lot of un-housed people fast, whether socialist or capitalist, will choose
the cheapest available houses, the best being the enemy of the better,
this fair scene will be one of factories smoking into the fair blue
sky, and masses of cheap identical housing. Am I right, Comrade
Willi?"
"You are right."
