Invisible man - Ralph Ellison [144]
"Here, come back," he said, nudging me playfully. "She's only a cardboard image of a cold steel civilization."
I laughed, glad to hear him joking. "And that?" I said, pointing to the bullfight scene.
"Sheer barbarism," he said, watching the bartender and lowering his voice to a whisper. "But tell me, how have you found your work with Brother Hambro?"
"Oh, fine," I said. "He's strict, but if I'd had teachers like him in college, I'd know a few things. He's taught me a lot, but whether enough to satisfy the brothers who disliked my arena speech, I don't know. Shall we converse scientifically?"
He laughed, one of his eyes glowing brighter than the other. "Don't worry about the brothers," he said. "You'll do very well. Brother Hambro's reports on you have been excellent."
"Now, that's nice to hear," I.said, aware now of another bullfight scene further down the bar in which the matador was being swept skyward on the black bull's horns. "I've worked pretty hard trying to master the ideology."
"Master it," Brother Jack said, "but don't overdo it. Don't let it master you. There is nothing to put the people to sleep like dry ideology. The ideal is to strike a medium between ideology and inspiration. Say what the people want to hear, but say it in such a way that they'll do what we wish." He laughed. "Remember too, that theory always comes after practice. Act first, theorize later; that's also a formula, a devastatingly effective one!"
He looked at me as though he did not see me and I could not tell whether he was laughing at me or with me. I was sure only that he was laughing.
"Yes," I said, "I'll try to master all that is required."
"You can," he said. "And now you don't have to worry about the brothers' criticism. Just throw some ideology back at them and they'll leave you alone -- provided, of course, that you have the right backing and produce the required results. Another drink?"
"Thanks, I've had enough."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure."
"Good. Now to your assignment: Tomorrow you are to become chief spokesman of the Harlem District . . ."
"What!"
"Yes. The committee decided yesterday."
"But I had no idea."
"You'll do all right. Now listen. You are to continue what you started at the eviction. Keep them stirred up. Get them active. Get as many to join as possible. You'll be given guidance by some of the older members, but for the time being you are to see what you can do. You will have freedom of action -- and you will be under strict discipline to the committee."
"I see," I said.
"No, you don't quite see," he said, "but you will. You must not underestimate the discipline, Brother. It makes you answerable to the entire organization for what you do. Don't underestimate the discipline. It is very strict, but within its framework you are to have full freedom to do your work. And your work is very important. Understand?" His eyes seemed to crowd my face as I nodded yes. "We'd better go now so that you can get some sleep," he said, draining his glass. "You're a soldier now, your health belongs to the organization."
"I'll be ready," I said.
"I know you will. Until tomorrow then. You'll meet with the executive committee of the Harlem section at nine A.M. You know the location of course?"
"No, Brother, I don't."
"Oh? That's right -- then you'd better come up with me for a minute. I have to see someone there and you can take a look at where you'll work. I'll drop you off on the way down," he said.
THE district offices were located in a converted church structure, the main floor of which was occupied by a pawn shop, its window crammed with loot that gleamed dully in the darkened street. We took a stair to the third floor, entering a large room beneath a high Gothic ceiling.
"It's down here,"