Lanark

by Alasdair Gray

  patrons became

  Wellnigh of all the wealth in the West

  Isles;

  For rich Romulus to Rome riches he

  swipes,

  With great bobbaunce that burgh he

  builds upon first,

  And names with his own name as now

  it hath;

  Ticius in Tuscany townships founds, Langbeard in Lombardy lifts up homes, And far over the French flood Felix

  Brutus,

  On many banks full broad Britain he

  builds with his winnings,

  Where war and wreck and wonder By turns have waxed therein, And oft both bliss and blunder Have had their innings.

  “Bliss and blunder. The flow of wealth around the globe has involved much of both, but wealth itself has continued to grow because it is always served by the winners.”

  “Pale pink people,” muttered Odin broodingly. “Pale pink people.”

  “I don’t think the blackies and brownies are much amused,” said Powys. “Are you all right, Lanark?”

  Monboddo’s strong quiet voice purred on like a stupefying wind.

  “… so north Africa becomes a desert, with several useful consequences….”

  “After the clean camaraderie of the steam bath-house, the new recruits notice that their parents stink….”

  “… but machinists only work efficiently in a climate of hope, so slavery is replaced by debt and money becomes a promise to pay printed by the government….”

  “… by the twentieth century, wealth has engrossed the whole globe, which now revolves in a tightening net of thought and transport woven round it by trade and science. The world is enclosed in a single living city, but its brain centres, the governments, do not notice this. Two world wars are fought in thirty years, wars the more bitter because they are between different parts of the same system. It would wrong the slaughtered millions to say these wars did no good. Old machines, old ideas were replaced at unusual speed. Science, business and government quickly became richer than ever before. We must thank the dead for that.”

  Monboddo glanced at Weems, who stood up and said solemnly, “This is surely a good time to remember the dead. There are hardly any lands where men have not died this century fighting for what they thought best. I invite all delegates to stand with me for two minutes and remember the friends, relations and countrymen who suffered to make us what we are.”

  “Bloody farce,” muttered Odin, gripping Lanark under the elbow to help him rise.

  “Soon be over,” whispered Powys, helping at the other side. The whole great circle gradually rose to their feet except the black bloc, who stayed obstinately seated. There was silence for a while; than a distant trumpet sounded outside the tent and everyone sat murmuringly down.

  “What’s the point of this speech?” said Odin. “It’s too Marxian for the Corporate Wealth gang and too approving for the Marxists.”

  “He’s trying to please everyone,” said Powys.

  “You can only do that with vague platitudes. He’s like all these Huns—too clever for his own good.”

  “I thought he came from Languedoc,” said Powys.

  “As I reach our present dangerous time [said Monboddo, sighing], I fear I have angered almost everyone here by a perhaps too cynical view of history. I have described it as a growing and spreading of wealth. Two styles of government command the modern world. One works to reconcile the different companies which employ their people, the other employs the people themselves. Defenders of the first style think great wealth the reward and necessary tool of those who serve mankind best; to the rest it is a method by which strong people bully weak ones. Can I define wealth in a way which lets both sides agree with me? Easily.

  “At the start of my talk I said wealth was a surplus of men. I now say a wealthy state is one which orders its surplus men into great enterprises. In the past extra men were used to invade neighbours, plant colonies and destroy competitors. But the liquidation of unprofitable states by warfare is not practical now. We all know it, which is why this assembly has been a success: not because I have been a specially good chairman but because you, the delegates of states big and small, have agreed to order onrushing history, onrushing wealth, onrushing men by majority decisions reached through open and honest debate.”

  Weems started clapping again, but Monboddo talked vehemently over him.

  “Believe me, this splendid logicalness has been achieved only just in time! More men have been born this century than in all the ages of history and prehistory preceding. Our man surplus has never been so vast. If this human wealth is not governed it will collapse—in places it is already collapsing—into poverty, anarchy, disaster. Let me say at once that I do not fear wars between any government represented here today, nor do I fear revolution. The presence of that great revolutionary hero, Chairman Fu of the People’s Republic of Xanadu, shows that revolutions are perfectly able to create strong governments. What we must unite to prevent are half-baked revolts which might give desperadoes access to those doomsday machines and bottled plagues which stable governments are creating, not to use, but to prevent themselves from being bullied by equals. No land today lacks desperadoes, brave greedy ignorant men who can no longer be sent to work in less busy parts of the world and are too ambitious to join a regular police force. No modern state lacks irresponsible intellectuals, the enemies of strong government everywhere. Both types seem anxious to break the world down into tiny republics of the prehistoric kind, where the voice of the dull and cranky would sound as loud as the wise and skilful. But a reversion to barbarism cannot help us. The world can only be saved by a great enterprise in which stable governments use the skills of institutional knowledge with the full backing of corporate wealth. Council, institute and creature everywhere must work together.

  “The fuel supply of the present planet is almost exhausted. The food supply is already insufficient. Our deserts have grown too vast, our seas are overfished. We need a new supply of energy, for energy is food as well as fuel. At present, dead matter is turned into nourishment by farming, and by the consumption of uneducated people by clever ones. This arrangement is a failure because it is inefficient; it also puts clever people into a dependent position. Luckily our experts will soon be able to turn dead matter directly into food in our industrial laboratories—if we give them access to sufficient energy.

  “Where can this energy be found? Ladies and gentlemen, it is all around us, it streams from the sun, gleams from the stars and sings harmoniously in every sphere. Yes, Mr. Kodac! It is time for me to admit that sending ships into space is not just an adventure but a necessity. That greater outer space is not, we now know, a horrid vacuum but a treasure house which can be endlessly, infinitely plundered—if we combine to do it. Once again the secretaries of the sky will be our leaders. We must build them a high new platform, a city floating in space where the clever and adventurous of every land, working in a clean, nearly weightless atmosphere, will reflect heat and sunlight down to the powerhouses of the world.

  “It has been suggested we call this enterprise New Frontier or Dynostar. I suggest the Laputa Project….”

  Monboddo’s speech had hypnotized Lanark. He listened openmouthed, nodding in the pauses. Whenever he understood a sentence it seemed to say everything was inevitable and therefore right. Yet his body grew less and less easy; his head buzzed; when Monboddo said “a high new platform, a city floating in space,” he seemed to hear another voice, harsh and incredulous, say, “The man’s a lunatic.”

  Even so, he was appalled to find himself standing and shouting “EΧΕΧΕΧΕΧΕΧΕΧΕΧ” at the top of his voice. Powys and Odin gripped his wrists, but he wrenched them free and yelled, “EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME but Lord Monboddo lied when he said all the delegates agreed to manage things through open, honest debates! Or else he has been lied to by other people.”

  There was silence. Lanark watched Monboddo watching him woodenly. Weems stood up and said quietly, “As host
of this gathering I apologize to Lord Monboddo and the other delegates for … for Provost Lanark’s hysterical outburst. He is notorious for his lack of control in civilized company. I also demand that Provost Lanark take back these words.”

  “I’m sorry I said them,” said Lanark, “but Lord Monboddo has deliberately or ignorantly told us a lie. I pissed off a bridge, but I should not have been locked up before I had spoken for Unthank! Unthank is being destroyed with no open agreement at all, jobs and homes are being destroyed, we’ve begun hating each other, the Merovicnic Discontinuity is threatened—”

  He was deafened by a babel of laughter and talk. A row of black-clad men stood behind Weems and Lanark saw two of them walk around the tent toward him. His legs trembled so much that he sat down. Voices were shouting for silence somewhere on his left. Silence fell. He saw Multan of Zimbabwe standing up, smiling at Monboddo, who said shortly, “Speak, by all means.”

  Multan looked round the table then said, “The Unthank delegate says this assembly has not held free and open debates. That’s not news to the black bloc. Is it news to anybody?”

  He chuckled and shrugged. “Everybody knows three or four big boys run the whole show. The rest of us don’t complain, why should we? Words by themselves are no good. When we get organized big, we’ll complain and you’ll listen. You’ll have to listen. So this Lanark is very foolish to speak like he does. But he tells the truth. So on this side of the table we watch what happens. We laugh because it don’t matter to us how you claw each other. But we watch closely what happens, all the same.”

  He sat down. Monboddo sighed and scratched his head. At last he said, “I will answer the Zimbabwe delegate first. He has told us, with admirable modesty, that he and his friends are not yet able to share the work of the council but will do so when they can. That is very good news; may the day come soon. The Unthank delegate’s case is less clear. I gather the police arrested him in the circumstances where his exalted rank was not apparent. He has missed our debates, but what can I do? I leave Provan one decimal hour from now. I can grant him a brief personal interview. I can promise that anything he says will be recorded in the assembly minutes for everyone to read. It is all I can offer. Is it sufficient?”

  Lanark felt everyone watching him and wanted to hide his face again. He glanced over his shoulder and shivered at the sight of two black-suited men. One nodded and winked. It was Wilkins. Monboddo said loudly “If you wish this interview, my secretaries will escort you to a convenient place. Otherwise the matter must be dropped. Answer, please, there is not much time.”

  Lanark nodded. He stood and walked from the tent between the secretaries, feeling old and defeated.

  CHAPTER 44.

  End

  As they crossed the wide dim floor Wilkins said cheerily, “That was great fun; you scared the shits out of old M.”

  The other man said, “These intellectuals have no staying power.”

  “Lanark has been around for a long, long time.” said Wilkins, “I think he deserves a three-syllable name, don’t you?”

  “Oh, he certainly deserves it,” said the other man. “There’s nothing wrong with a two-syllable name, I’m called Uxbridge, but Lanark has earned something more melodious. Like Blair-dardie.”

  “Rutherglen, Garscaden,” said Wilkins.

  “Gargunnock, Carmunnock, Auchenshuggle,” said the other man.

  “Auchenshuggle has four syllables,” said Wilkins.

  They went through a narrow door, climbed a dingy stair and crossed a small office into a slightly larger office. It was lit by a neon tube and the walls were hidden by metal filing cabinets, some piled on others. There was a metal desk in the corner. Without much surprise Lanark saw Monboddo sitting behind it with hands clasped patiently on the waistcoat over his stomach. “Bilocation,” said Monboddo. “I would be nothing if I did not duplicate. Sit down.”

  Wilkins placed a straight wooden chair before the desk and Lanark sat.

  “Wilkins, Uxbridge, go away. Miss Thing will record us,” said Monboddo. Lanark saw a girl exactly like Miss Maheen sitting between two filing cabinets. Wilkins and Uxbridge left. Monboddo tilted his chair back, looked at the ceiling and sighed. He said, “At last the Common Man confronts the Powerful Lord of this World. Except that you are not very common and I am not very powerful. We can change nothing, you and I. But talk to me. Talk to me.”

  “I am here to speak for the people of Unthank.”

  “Yes. You wish to tell me they have too few jobs and homes and social services so stupidity, cruelty, disease and crime are increasing among them. I know that. There are many such places in the world, and soon there will be more. Governments cannot help them much.”

  “Yet governments can fire great structures into space!”

  “Yes. It is profitable.”

  “For whom? Why can’t wealth be used to help folk here and now?”

  “It is, but we can only help people by giving less than we take away from them. We enlarge the oasis by increasing the desert. That is the science of time and housekeeping. Some call it economics.”

  “Are you telling me that men lack the decency and skill to be good to each other?”

  “Not at all! Men have always possessed that decency and skill. In small, isolated societies they have even practised it. But it is a sad fact of human nature that in large numbers we can only organize against each other.”

  “You are a liar!” cried Lanark. “We have no nature. Our nations are not built instinctively by our bodies, like beehives; they are works of art, like ships, carpets and gardens. The possible shapes of them are endless. It is bad habits, not bad nature, which makes us repeat the dull old shapes of poverty and war. Only greedy people who profit by these things believe they are natural.”

  “Your flood of language is delicious,” said Ozenfant, yawning slightly, “and can have no possible effect upon human behaviour. By the way, it was not clever of you to get Multan speaking for you. He is no enemy of the council, he is a weak member plotting to become strong. If he succeeds his aim will be my aim: to manage things as smoothly as possible. His only enemies will be people like you—the babies.”

  “I am not a baby.”

  “You are. Your deafness to reasoned argument, your indifference to decent custom and personal dignity, a selfishness so huge and instinctive that it cannot even notice itself, all make you the nearest thing to an adult baby I have ever encountered. And now you may retaliate by calling me as many foul names as you please. Nobody will know. Miss Thing cannot hear what is irrelevant to the business of the council.”

  Lanark said coldly, “You want me to lose my temper.”

  “Yes indeed,” said Monboddo, nodding. “But only to cut short a useless argument. You suffer from the oldest delusion in politics. You think you can change the world by talking to a leader. Leaders are the effects, not the causes of changes. I cannot give prosperity to people whom my rich supporters cannot exploit.”

  Lanark put his elbows on his knees and propped his face between his hands. After a while he said, “I don’t care what happens to most people. All of us over eighteen have been warped into deserving what happens to us. But if your reason shows that civilization can only continue by damaging the brains and hearts of most children, then … your reason and civilization are false and will destroy themselves.”

  “Perhaps,” said Monboddo, yawning, “but I think we can make them last our time. What have you recorded, Miss Thing? Tell us, please.”

  The secretary parted her lips and a monotonous voice slid out between them:

  “Greater Unthank Addendum to General As¬ sembly Minutes: Provost Lanark referred to Un¬ thank’s serious employment, housing, health and pollution problems. Chairman Monboddo related them to the supranational crisis in these areas and intimated that the solution of such problems must await the primary solution of the worldwide energy famine. Provost Lanark called for a more urgent approach to local diffi¬ culties insofar as they affect the 0–1
8 spectrum. Chairman Monboddo suggested the outcome of difficulties in this spectrum was less disastrous than Provost Lanark feared.”

  Miss Thing’s mouth clicked shut. Monboddo slapped his brow and said, “Cryptonite! I forgot the Cryptonite deposits. Put them in, Miss Thing; it will let us end on a cheerful note.” Miss Thing opened her mouth again.

  “Chairman Monboddo suggested the outcome of difficulties in this spectrum would be less dis¬ astrous socially than Provost Lanark feared as the development by Cortexin of the Unthank mineral resources was well on the way to putting prosperity within the grasp of everyone.”

  Lanark stood up and wrung his hands. He cried out, “I am useless. I should never have come here, I did no good to anyone, not to Sandy, Rima or anyone. I need to go home.”

  “Home?” said Monboddo, raising an eyebrow.

  “Unthank. It may be bad but the badness is obvious, not gilded with lies like here.”

  “You are severe. But I will help you. Open the bolthole, Miss Thing.”

  There was a grey woollen rug in front of the desk. Miss Thing knelt and pulled it back, uncovering a round steel plate sunk in the linoleum. She put a thumb and forefinger into two small openings at the centre and lifted it easily out, though it was two feet across and four inches thick. “The way home,” said Monboddo. “Look inside. You will recognize the interior of a familiar aircraft.”

  He stood up and rested, hands in pockets, on a corner of the desk. Lanark stooped and stared for a long time into the round hole. There was a cavity under it lined with blue silk. Monboddo said, “You do not trust me. But you will climb inside because you are too reckless to linger. Am I right?”

  “You’re wrong,” said Lanark, sighing. “I will climb inside because I’m too tired to linger.”

  He stepped into the cavity, sat down and straightened his legs. The space lengthened and narrowed to fit him. He lay staring up at a circle of cream-coloured ceiling surrounded by blackness. He heard Monboddo murmur “Bon voyage,” and a round black shape slid sideways across the circle of ceiling and eclipsed it with a low clang. Then the space he lay in dropped.