French fiction -- 20th century; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
Monsieur Joseph Bonéas is talking within a circle. Seeing him again I
also feel for one second the fascination he once had for me. He is
wearing an officer's uniform of the Town Guard, and his collar hides
the ravages in his neck. He is holding forth. What says he? He says,
"We must take the long view."
"We must take the long view. For my part, the only thing I admire in
militarist Prussia is its military organization. After the war--for we
must not limit our outlook to the present conflict--we must take
lessons from it, and just let the simple-minded humanitarians go on
bleating about universal peace."
He goes on to say that in his opinion the orators did not sufficiently
insist on the necessity for tying the economic hands of Germany after
the war. No annexations, perhaps; but tariffs, which would be much
better. And he shows in argument the advantages and prosperity brought
by carnage and destruction.
He sees me. He adorns himself with a smile and comes forward with
proffered hand. I turn violently away. I have no use for the hand of
this sort of outsider, this sort of traitor.
They lie. That ludicrous person who talks of taking the long view
while there are still in the world only a few superb martyrs who have
dared to do it, he who is satisfied to contemplate, beyond the present
misery of men, the misery of their children; and the white-haired man
who was extolling slavery just now, and trying to turn aside the
demands of the people and switch them on to traditional massacre; and
he who from the height of his bunting and trestles would have put a
glamour of beauty and morality on battles; and he, the attitudinizer,
who brings to life the memory of the dead only to deny with word
trickery the terrible evidence of death, he who rewards the martyrs
with the soft soap of false promises--all these people tell lies, lies,
lies! Through their words I can hear the mental reservation they are
chewing over--"Around us, the deluge; and after us, the deluge." Or
else they do not even lie; they see nothing and they know not what they
say.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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