Henri Castang 11 Not As Far As Velma by Nicolas Freeling

Author:Nicolas Freeling [Freeling, Nicolas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

8

“So Annunziata’s a horrible Communist,” said Castang laughing. “Not so bad for her, though she nearly got chopped for it. Worse for you, perhaps.” The bishop was smiling too. Sad? Thin? No, just a smile. Tired, perhaps.

“You know the celebrated phrase of Dom Helder Camara?”

“Who’s he? Familiar name, but ...”

“Archbishop. Northeastern Brazil. Large area. Notoriously pbor. He was conspicuous too. Should have been a cardinal, and even more obviously wasn’t. As the phrase runs, ‘When I worried about them being poor, everyone said I was a saint. When I asked what made them poor, everyone said I was a Commie.’ Land and money, all of it, is in the hands of those who own the big estancios. If the peasants form a co-op, make any protest, wonder aloud where their next meal is coming from, the estancieros send in their private army. Who will break a few toes and fingers, shoot a few knee and elbow joints, blind a few men, rape a few women, set a few huts on fire, disembowel a few children. Pour encourager les autres. Clerics who have the impudence to suggest that these are not perhaps the ways of divine justice will be frowned upon. You might recall the name of Monseigneur Romero. Salvador: I have trouble myself sorting out these American countries. Shot him in his own cathedral, for obstinately shooting off his stupid mouth in persistent disregard of counsels of Prudence from the Vatican and the United States Ambassador. I don’t think anybody’s about to shoot me, don’t get the idea I consider myself that important.”

“And the landowners,” said Castang lazily, “are excellent

Catholics, go to Mass every Sunday, their daughters are all Children of Mary, and they make big contributions to the Pope’s private exchequer.”

“Castang, I don’t want you to view me as some sort of disgruntled malcontent. I think, too, we should be careful, when in the back line, to avoid too much critical lip about those in the front line. I don’t care much for many of the Pope’s viewpoints, but recall I’m bound by vows of obedience, loyalty and discretion. Just like Annunziata. And I’ll give you a short lecture if need be about Vatican finance. There are a lot of misconceptions.”

“My wife has taught me a poem. It’s very short and I’ve still managed to forget most of it. Written by an English boy in the nineteen-fourteen-eighteen trenches. Right here, almost. Educated, sensitive boy. He asks himself questions, about the heroes of antiquity. ‘Was it so hard, Achilles? So very hard, to die?’”

‘“Stand in the trench, Achilles,’” said the bishop softly, ‘“Flame-Capped, and shout for me.’ Patrick Shaw Stewart, one of the most gifted of his generation, a partner in the house of Baring at the age of twentyfour. I know the poem, and it comes often to my mind too.”

“It is always the best who die. And the mediocre who survive.”

“Indeed it is often said that the decadence of France dates from this, and that in England it accelerated the decline.

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