Machines in the Head by Anna Kavan

Author:Anna Kavan
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2020-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

VII

Our city is full of the troops of a foreign army. When I first arrived here from the other side of the world I couldn’t tell whether these soldiers were friends or invaders, and even now I’m equally at a loss.

Wherever money is being spent these men in their costly and elegant uniforms are to be found, in theatres, bars, restaurants, stores, buying the best of everything and conducting themselves in a lavish way far beyond the resources of the citizens who are pushed quite into the background. Very often it’s impossible to get what one wants – whether it’s a meal or a drink or a seat at an entertainment or some article in a shop – because these people have bought up everything. And as for taxis and cars – well, the drivers seem to have placed their vehicles exclusively at the disposal of the foreign soldiers and their bottomless purses.

Are they, in fact, allies or enemies? Often enough one hears bitter remarks which suggest the latter alternative. But if that were the case wouldn’t the hostility of the citizens take some more dynamic form than mere acrimonious grumbling? And then, it must be admitted, the conduct of the strangers isn’t what one traditionally expects of a conquering army. Beyond the fact of their ubiquitousness and the way in which they monopolize all amenities, they appear not to interfere with our city at all. They have not, for example, taken over control of any of the public services or made any attempt to alter the laws or impose their own restrictions.

Occasionally, although this doesn’t often happen, one sees them going about with the local people, usually girls they’ve picked up somewhere or perhaps a youngster impressed by their spending powers. Or one catches sight of a group of their high-ranking officers formally escorted by a party of our dignitaries through the doors of a solemn official building.

One’s natural impulse, of course, is to question somebody and settle things once and for all. But a person in my situation can’t be too careful; I have to think twice about whatever I do, even about such a simple thing as asking a question. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself in any way. And then, with our complex system of regulations, continually changing from day to day, how is one to know what is permitted? If I were to make a mistake the result might be fatal for me. A single false step might easily end in disaster. Besides, even if I were so reckless as to stop a passer-by and make my inquiry, how can I be sure that he’d give me an answer? As likely as not he would merely look at me suspiciously and pass on, even if he did not actually lodge a complaint against me. For a passionate secretiveness characterizes the inhabitants of our city. It simply isn’t worth while taking such a chance. I’d rather remain uncertain.

It’s not as if

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