Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [560]
Unlike the Oligarchy, whose meeting place on Icen Hill was not a mile away, the Synod had wide popular support. The Church genuinely ministered to the needs of its people; uplifted their hearts and supported them in adversity. And preserved tactful silence about pauk.
Unlike the Oligarch, who was never seen and whose image in the fearful popular imagination most resembled a huge crustacean with hyperactive nippers, Priest-Supreme Chubsalid travelled among the poor and was a popular visitor with his congregations. He looked every inch a Priest-Supreme, with his large stature, craggy but kindly countenance, and mane of white hair. When he spoke, people wished to listen. His addresses were spun from piety and often fringed by wit: he could make his congregations laugh as well as pray.
The discussion at the synodical meetings was conducted in the highest Sibish, with multiple clauses, elaborate parentheses, and spectacular verb formations. But the matter on this occasion was strictly practical. It concerned the strained relationship between the two great estates of Sibornal, the State and the Church.
The Church watched with alarm as the edicts of the Oligarchy increased in severity. One of the synodic priesthood was speaking to the assembly on this subject.
‘The new Restrictions of Persons in Abodes Act and similar regulations are / continue represented by the State as a move to curtail the plague. Already they are causing as much disruption as the plague does / will / can. The poor are evicted and arrested for vagrancy, or else perish from the increasing cold.’
He was a silvery man and spoke in a silvery voice, but its conviction carried to the end of the room. ‘We can see the political thinking behind this iniquitous Act. As more northerly farms fail / failing, the peasants and small farmers who worked those farms drift into town, where they must find shelter where they can, generally in overcrowded conditions. The Act seeks to confine them to their failed farms. There they will starve. I hope I am not unduly uncharitable when I say that their deaths would suit the State well. The dead never talk politics.’
‘You foresee a revolt starting in the towns if the Act were repealed?’ asked a voice from the other end of the table.
‘In my youth, it was said that a Sibornalese worked for life, married for life, and longed for life,’ replied the silvery voice. ‘But we never rebel. We leave that to the people of the Savage Continent. The Church has so far said nothing about these restrictive Acts. Now I suggest that we have reached a sticking point with the Act against pauk.’
‘We have no policy on pauk.’
‘Neither had the State till now. Again, the dead have no politics, and that the State has / continuous recognises. Nevertheless, the Oligarchy have now legislated against pauk. This causes / has / will further misery to our congregations for whom – if you will forgive my saying so – pauk is as much a part of life as parturition.
‘The poor are being unfairly punished to fit them for the coming winter. I move that the Church speaks out publicly against the recent actions of the State.’
An aged and bald man, completely lacking hair or colour, rose with the aid of two sticks and spoke.
‘It may be as you say, brother. The Oligarchy may be tightening its grip. I suggest to you that it has to do so. Think of the future. All too soon, our descendants will be faced / facing three and a half centuries of the bitter Weyr-Winter. The Oligarchy reasons that the harshness of nature must be matched by the harshness of mankind.
‘Let me remind you of that terrible Sibish oath which must not be spoken. It is regarded as a supreme blasphemy, and rightly. Yet it is admirable. Yes, admirable. I would not / admonitorily have it spoken in my diocese, yet I admire the defiance of it.’
He steadied himself. There were those who thought the venerable man was about to defile his lips with the oath. Instead, he took a different tack.
‘In the Savage Continent of Campannlat, chaos