Showing posts with label lierature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lierature. Show all posts

Thursday, 23 February 2012

2242 Russia House part two First do no harm

The second part of The Russia House contains passages which resonate with me strongly, more than in any novel for sometime and which also aroused several memories. My reading has been slow as a consequence, slower than my plan for the week justifies, so I have struggled to complete the reading and writing of the second part when had hoped to finish before weekend.

I do not know if Le Carré visited Russia during the Gorbachev years but the image be portrays of Russian life appears authentic, especially that of Katya. She is woman who brought the manuscript of Goethe to the Audio Fair but otherwise she remained a mystery and even in the film while she becomes the lover of Barley and continues to be an important link with the author of the manuscript, she remains secondary to these two characters although all three are in the story foreground with the machinations of the secret services of the UK, the CIA and Russia secondary.

It was when I read of Katya in the book I began to see her more than Goethe as representing mother Russia at the crossroads of a new era. Knowing the ending in the film, I suddenly realised that perhaps like Renko’s woman in Gorky Park, she could return to Russia once the transition was completed. But the difference between the two women is otherwise significant.

Katya is a woman of ideals and passions but she is also rational and practical. We learn a lot about her in what I regard as the second part of the book commencing with chapter 6 page 143 when Barley arrives in Moscow and makes contact with her.

Katya juggles three lives, those as a mother of twins, sharing her small home space with her uncle, there is her work and then the independent woman of passions and spirit but how and why she came to risk her life because of Barley and Goethe is not immediately clear,
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She wants, as Le Carré says, to keep the paper thin walls between the parts of her life separate and understandably she has reservations about Barley because he threatens the immediate life and well being of her family, and her anxiety is reinforced when he arrives, wants to meet her socially and begins to question not only about Goethe but about herself when she is just the Go Between and cannot wait for him to go. Unlike Renko’s girl she is not driven by the desire to leave Russia, but to change it and to survive.

However we also learn a great deal about her present and past life and although she does not know it, she is open to someone like Barley, or anyone who can fast track a different life to the one she leads and also for her children, although she is also not a woman who lives for her children.

She explains the several levels of deals required to obtain material to make two cowboy style shirt as presents for the birthday of the twins. She has gained two tickets for a concert from the editor at the publishing firm where she works who believed he had made a drunken pass at her which she had resented but in reality it had been nothing, but she did not tell him that because of what she could do with the tickets. Then she traded the tickets for 24 bars of foreign soap in their colour wrapping paper and these in turn she was to trade for the cloth with the manager of the clothing shop who she believed had hoped for a different kind of transaction with her. She was to make up the shirts on the new East German sewing machine which she had traded for the ancient but sought after family Singer.

We learn that apartments, she has one on the site of former Aeroport, are allocated with precise spacing according to her family size, work, political and social position and where the partition walls between flats are such that you are affected by the lives of others as how you behave also affects them..... an alarm clock, a dog wanting walkies, a child’s incessant cry, extra loud music at a party and so on.

On the whole it was space, or the lack of it which also affected me, the sharing of a bed with three adult women throughout most of my childhood until starting secondary school. We had the top floor flat in the requisitioned house as well as sharing the garden and the walls of the 1950’s first council built three story twin blocks of flats we were allocated because the owners wanted their home back was not just strongly built but were built to look private and still do.

It was my noise playing the clarinet in airing cupboard which was the nuisance or playing my records as loud as possible using a footstall as a drum to beat out the rhythm of Sing Sing Sing from the Benny Goodman twin albums I purchased soon after going to work at the age of 16.

It was only later through my work that the nature of living in Council flats and housing estates was brought home. The aunties had been so proud of the three bed and then their two bed plain four walls and low ceiling flats where I would stay hearing the shoutings of the wild young single parent next door to my bedroom and to the noise of the family above. I learned how accommodation and location reflected how others saw themselves and affected how you saw yourself, and helped define what you wanted.

Katya had only a single bed in a room where there was only space for a wardrobe. The twins had to sleep in the same bed and her uncle in a made up bed in the lounge. I know that feeling only too well and even now living among by my ten roomed three storey terrace with walk in loft I could do with more space! If I will the euro lottery I will build the space to curate my work, to live and to entertain, with space for professional contemporary creative to work and go live and perhaps if the cash is sufficient, our own restaurant bar, jazz club but there would have to be sufficient to ensure its continuation after my death as well as for the family

We also learned in those opening pages that Katya had more than one lover, first a temperamental musician who kept bees illegally on the roof thus enabling her to give a jar of honey to a neighbour who recently lost her mother and whose father had been admitted hospital with a brain tumour.

We do not know as yet, what had happened to Katya’s parents or how her uncle came to live with her although they get all well and helps with looking after the children.

Later under pressure from Barley we also learn that she was married to someone she knew from childhood in Leningrad where she had been to university and developed a flair for languages and which enabled her to speak Jane Austin English better than most English folk. She had come to Moscow with her husband after their marriage where he managed a timber firm making prefabricated houses. He was a practical man who knew how to catch fish through ice, sleep in the snow and skin a rabbit from his early childhood in Siberia. She had been attracted to such a man rather than someone of the mind. I remember from my early professional life that some of my female colleagues were also attracted in this way, to a farmer perhaps someone earthy without complexes, a military man or a surgeon.

Another aspects of life in the city then and I suspect now is that everyone was trying to make additional money if they had connections. We would call the black market or street economy. The taxi that she takes and drives quickly in torrential rain despite the young driver forgetting to attach the windscreen wipes because if you leave them on they are taken, asks if she interested in fresh fruit, coffee, vodka, offered no doubt in the expectation she had only her body to trade. Earlier she mentions having a connection with access to the farms allowed to sell some of the produce, and could supply fresh chickens and we well as fresh eggs. One can understand how quickly such a people would take to capitalism at different levels, and those with the best connections would become the oligarchs while others the establish businesses of the mafia gangster.

I was also struck by the greater link between Russian and British men than say British men with the western Continental Europe. The continental Europeans like the wine and enjoy a glass or two with meals on at the pavement cafe but as people they do not go in for the binge drinking of English and the Russians where both nations have not just a high number of alcoholics but a growing number of alcoholics who become social and family problems. In the UK while the incidence of diseases has reduced especially from smoking lung cancer that from alcohol has jumped several fold.

I can understand how Barley liked the Russians but not why over the past decade so many Russian woman would like to become British wives to get away from the drinking of Russian men!

After the meeting with Barley we learn the steps she takes to receive a phone call from Goethe and it is during this passage that Le Carré communicates the fear and suspicion and the risks she and Goethe are taking. It is also evident that they have been lovers but when, for how long and if still, she only later is to answer.

Back in his hotel room with its noising plumbing systems and convulsing ice box Barley had a different perspective fearing that he disappointed as a morally bankrupt man without convictions and that he had not shown immediate interest in her as a woman despite her beauty and intellect. She appeared to have run away from him which made her more interested to him.

He has a fantasy or two about her and is disappointed when his “editor” arrives and they have a conversation in which the assistant attempts to impart knowledge which Barley finds it difficult to comprehend tired and drunk until she rings and arranges to see him the following day and his assistant speculates whether she had written the manuscripts or was in contact with their author. It occurs that we in the west in the midst of the digital era, the phone and computer hacking, we should learn to expect surveillance as they did then in Russia and probably still do. The theme of my work as I frequently explain is that what we do and say can be viewed and heard by anyone. anywhere, anytime with the technology. But we are also in the era of the exhibitionist and the voyeur as I learned when visiting an independently run camera and video surveillance unit.

Meanwhile in the Russia House the events are monitored and distributed to those on the Bluebird circulation list which bemused and worried the Brits because Langley’s list included the Pentagon Scientific Liaison Board and the White House Academic Advisory team.

There were elaborate precautions taken over the next meeting between Barley and Katya after calling for at her home. He had taken her to a safe house which Barley pretended was the flat an artist friend who was away although the kind of artist had not been explained which made questions by Katya difficult. She resisted all his questions about Goethe or whoever had provided the manuscripts. He asked if she knew their content which she summarised as “my country’s involvement in anti human weapons of mass destruction over many years. It paints a portrait of corruption and incompetence in all fields of the defence industrial complex. Also of criminal mismanagement and ethical shortcomings. These he felt were as much her feelings as those explained to her by the author

Barley was able to establish that her contact was a scientist who believed there was little time left and therefore need for openness and honesty was great. She was unable to say how he knew so much as the information covered so many areas of interest, If we see one goal clearly we may advance one step. If we see all goals at once, we shall not advance at all.

I have been mulling over this point for sometime. I need to have an overview of my work, my life, my year, my day, the world, but if I spend too much time contemplating the enormity of the challenge I do little, whereas if I set tasks for the day, the week, the year and proceed to their accomplishment I make progress and am more content with what I do.

The Author is reported as saying there are times when actions must come first and we must consider consequence only when they occur. I agree. Too much consideration of potential outcomes may well freeze action and let others dictate events and their outcomes. However if there is opportunity it is wise to consider outcomes and therefore avoid blind alleys, pitfalls and bobby traps.

“We regard the destruction of Russia as preferable to the destruction of all mankind,” was quite a statement for anyone to make and I am not sure if anyone would believe this in reality.

We are tribal by nature and inheritance and the idea of sacrificing ourselves and all we know for the sake of others we do not know it a concept impossible for me to accept.

She went on; he says “the greatest burden is the past. We cannot execute the past. He says if we cannot execute our past, how shall we construct our future? We shall not build a new world until we have got rid of the mentalities of the old. In order to express truth we must also be the apostles of negation. He quotes Turgenev, A nihilist is a person who does not take anything for granted however much that principle is revered.”

I have read Turgenev from my 30 book series of Russian writers. I have Fathers and Sons in one volume, The Hunting Sketches and perhaps his most well known the Virgin Soil.

I have also written many times about the advertisement I placed in the New Statement about being a nihilist waiting for the bomb to drop and which led to two kinds of replies with a well known journalist for the London evening Standards suspecting that I was advertising wine and seeking a complimentary case to a beautiful young woman with who I became her lover, to a female journalist who took my play to read and never gave it back and to another young woman art student who came for a weekend to Ruskin bringing her friend who proved to be the most beautiful young woman I have ever met who came for a weekend with me to stay with a college friend at Liverpool and also to Birmingham, although we did not become lovers because of our chosen paths.

Katya said “I am not a nihilist. I am a humanist. It is given to us to play our part for the future, we must play it.” Yes I understand this but we must play the part well to the best of physical, psychological intellectual, spiritual abilities.

Barley pressed to now how long Goethe had talk like this. ““He had always been idealistic. That is his nature. He has always been extremely critical in a constructive way,” she explained. That also strikes a strong chord with me because although at times I have disturbed others it is because I have recognised better and best, hated my mediocrity in comparison, but always looked for ways to improve. Some will argue that I became addicted to experience, and yet the long hours spent alone in contemplation counter this, although I am a personality mixture of conviction, determination and completing finishing which can become an addiction.

Katya reveals that the authority has believed for a time that the possession of annihilation was so terrible they would have the effect of abolishing war. I have never thought that and if anything the weapons have had no impact on whether nations possessing such weapons wage war or not. The author has changed more in line with the USA thing that the greater the possession of weapons held the greater the capacity for peace.

She went to say that he become inspired by Perestroika and the prospect for world peace but he is not a Utopian and not passive. “He knows nothing will come of its own accord.”

This I have long understand that it does not matter what is ones talent, one potential you have to push yourself out into the world and hope to make early contact with someone, those who can help bridge the gulf from where you are to where you want to be.

He knows that our people are deluded and lack collective power (thus it is ever so). He goes onto say that the New Revolution must be imposed from above. By intellectuals, By artists By Administrators, By Scientists.” My response is hmm. The evidence from studies and my own experience is that planned change never works out as designed or hoped for unless you begin with clean slate and recruit to the organisation only those who understand what is required and are in agreement with it, otherwise it quickly becomes perverted to the prejudices and inclinations of those on whom the change is imposed. You cannot stand guard 24/7 on all those involved or employ others to do so. This is the fallacy of legislative government. Too many British politicians have thought all they had to do is pass a law, provide the funds and Hey Presto the law is put into effective practice. But I agree with the need for the leadership of the educated and creative but only if you can reach agreement. My mind immediately goes back to the first meetings of the Committee 100 when the majority of the Committee assembled and quickly was reduced to a steering working group of around 30 to 40 but even then power was taken by a couple of individuals and one in particular. The same with the Direct Action Committee.

What is worst is the uprising of the proletariat usually led by a fanatic or two and where the force of the proletariat is used to exterminate any opposition or anyone likely to oppose but who in turn also become as exploited themselves as before with the best literary example is George Orwell’s Animal Farm saying it all.

Barley is then able draw from her new information about Goethe as well as to be quoted his own words back from their meeting. “If there is to be hope we must all betray our countries”.

She explained that she had been sixteen and he 30 when they first met. She was studying French and German in her last year at school and was the star pupil. She had read Erich Fromm. I am impressed by this concept as someone who read Erich also at a young age: The Sane Society and the Art of Loving in particular.
She had also read Ortega and Kafka and seen Dr Strangelove in the era of 1968. She saw herself as a peace dreamer and a revolutionary. Her father was the Professor of Humanities at the University. Having taken down the wall around her she now talked and talked and this affected in a way he had not anticipated.

She had wanted to be with French students when they had rioted. They were proud of the American students who protested against the Vietnam War and they were regarded her comrades. Barley thought, I will never leave you.

He mother had died of TB and was already ill when she was born.

She had been taken by her father to see “A bout de Souffe” at a film club and it there he and introduced her to Goethe, real name Yakov. Her father said the man was his genius of physics and she had found him beautiful. She had fallen in love with him and after the show he had joined her with friends drinking coffee and then she had invited herself back to his apartment and they had become lovers, telling Barley the delicacy of their intimacy.

Her father had stayed up waiting and she talked to him as a stranger unable to sleep that night only to learn the following morning that Russian Tanks had gone into Prague. Yakov had got drunk and appeared to Katya to have thrown in the towel. She was ashamed and disappointed. She said she had addressed him like a Stendhal heroine saying he had taken an immoral decision and that she would never speak to him again. She had reminded him of EM Forester who they both admired( A Passage to India, A Room with a View, Howard’s End and Where Angels Fear to Tread are the most well known of his seven novels because of the films)

She had married Volodya but she had continued a relationship with Yakov, meeting in secret, occasionally, and with love changing to sex. She had ceased contact when pregnant with the twins but it was Barley and the effect on Yakov as Goethe which had brought the two together and now three people were connected in the circle. For some reason Barley asked if Yakov had children which someone stopped Katya in her flow. She revealed that he was against having children because parents make victims of their children and he did not want to add to the number of victims. Who said to someone bent on changing society? First do no wrong? A guiding rule for every social worker as well as politician.

The inquisition was coming to an end as he asked about how they kept in contact and if he was afraid of his situation. Barley had with him a series of prepared questions which he fired at her in quick succession and which should have alerted her that these were not the questions one would expect from a publisher. Her answers were all no. It was only then that she suggested he put the questions directly ad Yakov wished to meet Barley in Leningrad on the coming Friday.

He proposed three places at three times and you must keep to each. He will keep one and he asked me to say that he loves you. They then had a meal drained as two exhausted lovers.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

2172 The Mission Song part one the Big Lie

As with all John Le Carré writing The Mission Song merits close attention a good memory, note taking and a map of central Africa and Democratic Republic of the Congo with an overview of the recent history together with a second read to appreciate the story integrity and the depth of characterisation. I purchased a half price hard cover 2006 first edition from the Asda Bolden and if I read from cover to cover I did not remember the ending although I recalled some aspects when I set about reading properly over a week ago.

I immediately identified with the hero of the story, Bruno Salvador, Salvo to friends, because he is the illegitimate son of an Irish Catholic priest but there the similarity ends because he was acknowledged by his father who raised him for ten years until he died in South Kivu in the Eastern Congo, a land of lakes and volcanic mountains, emerald pasture land and luscious fruit groves according to Le Carré. He was born at the Carmelite convent in Kisiangani, previously Stanleyville the provincial capital of Tshopo, the largest city in the tropical woodlands of the Congo and the third largest in the country, the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

The official language is French but Swahili and Lingala is the most common tongue of the people together with countless dialects which Salvo picked during his most tender years and which became a mixture of his good fortune and downfall in equal measure. Kisiangani is an inland port 1300 miles from the Ocean and became the commercial capital of the north and the birth place of Patrice Lumumba.

It was between my 60th and 65th birthday that I first knew that my father was of a Maltese family with a known history on the Island of several hundred years whereas Salvador’s father was more colourful, the union of an Irish soldier and 14 year Normandy peasant girl who had spent his childhood between the two countries thus speaking French as well as Irish. I sometimes think I should have also become a priest as seemed destined in my childhood, a man apart from sexuality at least that is the official nature of the calling. For one reason not made clear Salvo’s father did become a missionary priest, a calling for which he appears to have been suited except for the passionate nature of a sexual kind.

We learn that with the outbreak of the First World War he made his way to the Congo and joined a group of Friars attempting to bring Christianity to the two hundred odd tribes in the east of the territory. Of his mother, his father had once whispered that she was a village headman‘s daughter, tall and beautiful and that he was born out of love.

She escaped the convent where she had given birth leaving her Salvo behind and went back to her people where unfortunately the whole village was massacred by another tribe. In disgrace the Catholic Church as its wont sent his father first to Madrid and then to Marseilles before allowed to return to the Congo was he retrieved his three year old child from the orphanage to have with him. It was during the following seven years that accompanying his father on his mission work he was able to learn the variety of languages and meanings from the children he met on the travels.

Following the death of his father then in his seventies which again brings comparison with my own who was nearly the age of my mother he found himself branded the secret child within the Catholic church community and which also mirrors my own experience hidden from the extended Gibraltarian family and friends for reasons which I assumed until my own sixtieth year was just from my illegitimacy. It was only then I learned my true identity. Salvo was given his two identities when ten years of age. The first as described was African and Catholic and the second in preparation for banishment to England was an UK Irish seafaring citizen with the unlikely surname of Salvador selected by the Mother Superior who was Spanish and with the support of the British Consul in Kampala he was on his way for an education with care among the downs of Sussex

It was here he had the good fortune to come under the wing of a Brother who sensed that his ability to speak French, English Swahili and Langali with all the dialects would be his making and then introduced him to his wealthy sister Imelda and the experience of holidays at her estate in Devon which included a croquet lawn and a paddock for retired pit ponies. She also funded the private tutoring which led him to the school of Oriental and African Studies in London where he graduated first class in African Languages and culture and then achieved a Masters in Translation and Public Service Interpreting.

Salvo making something of his talents can be said to have been down to the Catholic Church and particular individual who felt a sense of responsibility rather than guilt and shame because of the circumstance of his parenting. I have previously reported on the head of the catholic preparatory school whose letter, the first I had ever received, when I moved to the Independent Catholic senior school said that I was child of God which made my birth mother angry, taking the letter from me which I never saw again. It was then a Jesuit modern history teacher who inspired me to understand what the second world war was all about which led me to nervously approaching the local public librarian to read some of the Nuremberg War Crimes Trials on the concentrations camps which he suggested,

We first meet Salvo in London aged 28 years where he is married to the beautiful upper crust wife called Penelope aged 32, yes four years his senior, and who is a rising star of tabloid journalism whose mother is an active Tory and father a top lawyer with a family home in the depth of Surrey. In fact Salvo is already late for a special drink’s party followed by DJ dinner of recognition and celebration for his wife’s journalistic achievements when he gets the call which is to change his life.

Unsurprisingly he had gained well paid work as an interpreter for the police and the courts, for the health and immigration services and for his country more overtly through the Minister of Defence which necessitated signing the Official Secrets Act about the only thing I also have in common with Monsieur Le Carré, and his Salvo.

The reason that Salvo was late was only ostensibly the need to be at the bedside of a Rwandan from the Congo who appeared to have escaped from an immigrant detention centre who was found dying on Hampstead Heath from an immediately unknown infection, but more because of a black countrywoman from his birth land with whom he had immediately connected with her soul as well as her body, and in a way in which only served to underline the gulf between him and his childless by choice wife.

He was summoned by phone, by one Mr Anderson, a man in his late fifties, married with children, a baritone in some choir at his home town in Sevenoaks with an office at the MOD and in charge of the listening and interpreting unit in the bowels of the Whitehall building. He was told the money was exceptional, that the work was in the national interest and concerned the future welfare of his birth land.

Because of his origin and background it could not be said that Salvo had the welfare of his birth land foremost in his daily consciousness although this was something which Degree nurse Hannah was constantly reminding him of during their brief relationship to date as the patient, the Rwandan had a hatred of her people.

Most educated and informed Westerners of a certain age are familiar that in Rwanda a small Africa country compared to that of the two Congo Republics that the minority Tutsi had dominated the overwhelming majority of Hutu for centuries before the 1959-1962 of displaced Hutu power lasting 30 years. The majority took power from the minority. The Ugandans then supported a move back of the displace Tutsi and this led to Hutu planning genocide killing of the Tutsi at a rate of 10000 a day, some 400 an hour so that roads were filled with slaughtered bodies reducing the population from over a million to 300000 creating thousands of raped HIV widows and an overall population with 40000 orphans with 85000 older children the head of families in the community.

The United Nations belated intervened giving power to the Tutsi and displacing hundreds of thousands of Hutu into the Congo and other neighbouring countries.

It was in the Eastern Congo and Kivu area of Salvo and Hannah that other nations coveted their mineral wealth particularly coltan which is used by the cellular phone industry and began to financially support the various factions, tribal and geographical based, in an attempt to gain authority to plunder the riches underground

At present my understanding is that there is now a Hutu based power group self styled Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda which is at war with the government of the Democratic Republic. In addition there is a Goma city based group sympathetic to the cause of the Banymanulenge Tutsi, who is opposed, understandably, by both the Government and the Rwandan Hutus and also the United Nations forces trying to establish ongoing peace in both countries. People have killed in number, fled, change sides often at the time elections are held with allegations of corruption and worse. Military forces from Angola have become involved in the ongoing conflict although this appears restricted to advisers (of the kind employed by the USA in Asia, middle and central Americas in the past and Europeans in Libya most recently We are in the age of ex professional soldier mercenary employed by agents and used by governments to bypass the niceties and complexities of democratic and Parliamentary government.

Salvo had his reservations about taking on the special financially lucrative assignment which meant abandoning and embarrassing his wife by his non appearance, deserting the dying Rwandan and the emotional and sexual comforts of Hannah and a commitment to help at a Court hearing after the weekend, which Anderson assured, was already covered.

But if he wanted continuing work and the approbation of his government’s Ministry then he had no alternative but to accept the arranged lift not to the MOD but to a flat 22a in South Audley Street where he was told to ring the bell and advise that he had a parcel for Harry.

It is here he found his Mr Anderson and an assistant called Bridget who measured him up for new clothes which turned him into looking like an English school master than international top notch interpreter and a new identity which confirmed his birth place as central Africa, with Brian for Bruno and Sinclair for Salvador and a set of printed name and address cards which did not disclose the name of the Channel Islands registered company for which he worked bringing the latest horticultural devices to the Third and Fourth Worlds.

Salvo was also told that his assignment was deniable as anything to do with the MOD and if things went wrong he was on his own, His contact was to be someone called Maxie who in turn worked for Phillipe who was agent and not a government employed. Now while I the reader noted this carefully and the alarm bells, Salvo appears awed by his new circumstance and clearly did not register that the warning was absolute and unequivocal. Le Carré has his character failing to grasp the nature of the project and reflecting his still naive, idealistic and trusting personality.

I too have found myself in situations where there is a sense of unreality and is this really happening to me as he was then taken, equipped with a small overnight bag to Berkeley Square and area familiar to me because this is where in 1959 I attended a one month sales training school with forty or so others for British Olivetti and ended the course heading the list of successful candidates based on four weekly examinations and an overall course assessment rating. I was clearly destined for selling greatness but alas the new office standard manual machine had too light a touch for the dozens of mainly young women who I persuaded to take a free trial use of the machine, achieving more than anyone else of the new intake but where even with the help of my supervisor not one could be sold and although I was not alone in this I took it personally and eventually resigned to shortly become a non violent actionist against weapons of mass destruction.

Salvo or Brian as he had become was told to wait outside a room where a conference was being held and where he was able to distinguish the language as English but laced with Indian sub continent, Euro-American and African Colonial, all which should have registered on Brian that although his mission was sponsored by the UK, using an agency, there was international involvement.

It was while he speculated about ethnicity of those engaged behind the closed door that he missed the entrance of Maxie, a somewhat manic gentleman who remind him of figures in his past and who proclaimed he was late because he had got a puncture in his push bike. Whereupon Maxie enquired if Brian knew what the caper was about and surprised that the old fart Anderson had not told him. Maxie then established that Brian’s skill extended beyond French Lingala and Swahili to Bember, Shi, Kinyarwanda and more.

Brian is then introduced to a hero of his, one Lord Brinkley of Sands, former Labour Minister, entrepreneur and defender and champion of all things African. The significant point here is that Maxie did not know the name of the person dominating the room until pointed out by Salvo and that the man was clearly put out at being identified by the newcomer as he was introduced for his interpreting skills. He was still pondering why according to Maxie the recognition had scared the shit of the Lordship when he was taken to join a people carrier and was whisked with a short distance of his home to a helicopter and then across London to Luton Airport.

He had already left messages for Penelope explaining he had been called away on a special assignment but at the airport he managed to contact the hospital where he learned the patient had died, that Hannah was upset and not available, His inability to connect with the two beings who mattered most to him, I suspect added to the sense of unreality he was experiencing although this is my personal viewpoint and not explicit in the writing.

In addition to two pilots the party numbered nine and during the journey where most settled down to sleep but he learned that they were on their way to a small island in the North Sea where they were to meet with a small group of gentlemen from the Congo who were officially elsewhere and where they had six hours to help them say yes to each other.

Maxie wanted to know what food was available then ordered that the York ham, salmon sides, cold fillet of beef and magnum of Champagne should would wait for the return journey and those who wished could partake of nearly cold Chow mein,

It was while attempting to eat the meal he was asked on his knowledge of military terms and technical terms and assisted in explaining that the Congolese would use the nearest colonial language to their everyday experience if there was no equivalent in their particular vernacular, something which I could identify with have been brought up in the part of a household which spoke Gibraltarian which is predominantly southern Spanish with English mixed in unless you were also Maltese in which that was also mixed in with the Spanish and sometimes with the English.

It meant that you had a peasant level vocabulary unless you were sent for education to Spain, England and Malta and in significantly fewer instances to Italy, France and Muslim North Africa. And where me, alas despite the Spanish, Maltese, Italian and English background was brought up only English speaking while the adults spoke Gibraltarian Spanish so they thought I would not know what they said to each other. But like Salvo I listened and commenced to understand only to be told to keep stum when Gibraltarian family and friends called. Salvo was quickly told to restrict his understanding and speaking abilities to the basic languages of the visitors so they would think they would be safe to talk in other tongues although knowing their conversations would be likely recorded. It was during the journey that Maxie presented the big lie to Salvo.

He admitted that that Congo had been fucked by the Arab slavers, then by fellow Africans, then by the United Nations, the CIA, the Christians, the French, The Belgium’s, the Brits, the Rwandans, the diamond companies, the golf companies and the mineral companies, half the world’s carpetbaggers and their own government in Kinshasa and any minute they are going to be fucked by the oil companies. This first part was all true of course. Then came the lie “Time they had break and we are the boys to give it to them.” They landed