The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [90]
The General smiled slightly. "Robert, politics have no more relation to history than moral codes have to the needs of any particular man."
Epigrams and more epigrams. He felt a certain revulsion. "General, by the time you get done after this war, working out the next bigger consolidation, the American in the 'forties is going to have the same kind of anxiety that the Europeans had in the 'thirties when they knew the next war would finish them."
"Probably. The natural role of twentieth-century man is anxiety."
"Aaahr." Hearn lit a cigarette, and found with surprise that his hands were shaking. The General was transparent for this single moment. Cummings had begun this argument purposely, had re-established the poise, the unique superior adaptation he had been lacking, for whatever reason, when they had entered the tent.
"You're too stubborn ever to give in, Robert." The General stood up and walked over to his foot locker. "To tell you the truth. I didn't ask you over here for a discussion. I thought perhaps we might have a game of chess together."
"All right." Hearn was surprised, a little uneasy. "I don't think I'll give you much of a battle."
"We'll see." The General set up a small folding table between them, and began placing the pieces on the board. Hearn had talked to him about chess once or twice, and the General had spoken vaguely of playing, but Hearn had discounted it. "You really want to play?" he asked.
"Certainly."
"If someone walks in, it'll be a pretty sight."
The General grinned. "Clandestine, eh?" He had finished arranging the pieces, and he picked up a red and a white pawn, hid one in each of his fists and then extended them for Hearn to choose. "I'm rather fond of this set," the General said genially. "It's hand-carved ivory, not really so dear as you'd think, but the man who made it is a pretty indisputably a craftsman."
Hearn, without comment, picked the red pawn, and after replacing them the General made the opening move. Hearn gave a conventional response, settled his head comfortably in his large hands, and tried to study the board. But he found himself nervous. He was feeling both excited and depressed; the conversation had troubled him, and he was bothered by the fact that he was playing chess with the General. It made everything between them more overt. There seemed something vaguely indecent about it, and he entered the game with a feeling that it would be disastrous for him to win.
He played through the first few moves rather carelessly. He was really not thinking at all, listening instead to the occasional muted rumble of the artillery, the steady absorbed flickering of the Coleman lantern. Once or twice he thought he heard the foliage soughing in the bivouac outside, and the sound made him gloomy. He caught himself staring at the rapt simple concentration on the General's face. His expression was similar to the one he had assumed on the beach invasion day, or on the night they had driven in the jeep, and again it was impressive in its force and direction.
Hearn woke up to realize he was in trouble after only six moves. Sloppily, without any real consideration, he had violated a principle by moving his knight twice before his development was completed. His position was not yet dangerous, the knight was only in the fourth rank, and its squares of retreat could be opened easily enough, but the General was opening with an odd attack. Hearn began really to study the game. By now the General could win by completing his development and extracting all the juice out of the slight positional advantage he would have on completion. But it would be a long contest, and the end game would undoubtedly be difficult. Instead the General