Conversation · Steban, the Student Communist

"Right, and this Nilsen is...?"

"Nilsen. Ignus Nilsen."

"I totally understand."

"Of course you do. It's pretty basic stuff!"

"Man, what an ignoramus." (Shake your head.)

"We're extremely disappointed. Maurice used to be a good friend of ours."

"Zuzanna said that he has been hanging out with some non-communists lately."

What is this infra-materialist business they keep blathering about? You've never heard of anything like it.

Just go along with it.

"Remind me what infra-materialist theory says about turnips again?"

"Simply that under suitably revolutionary conditions crop yields naturally increase relative to non-revolutionary crops. Which Maurice somehow has the gall to deny."

"Okay, but what happened to them?"

"Intellectual attrition is maybe the best way to describe it. Felix said he couldn't keep up with the reading on top of his classwork. And Zuzanna wanted to read texts other than Mazovian theory. Like novels, if you can believe it..."

Imagine, the audacity of wanting to read a novel in a reading group!

"I like a good novel every now and then."

"Oh, sure. But you can always join a book club if that's what you're into."

"We've tried recruiting new members, but unfortunately the current intellectual climate is pretty hostile to infra-materialist thought. These days, if you're on the left, the ascendent schools are the Gottwaldians and the Econoclards."

"Don't forget about Maurice and the turnips."

He sighs. "Right, then there was the whole 'turnip' debacle."

Whatever this turnip business is about, one thing is perfectly clear: These young students have a much deeper understanding of communism than you do...

You could learn a thing or two from them, if you can convince them you're one of them.

"Maybe you just haven't found the right group yet?"

"Novels, unbelievable." (Shake your head.)

"See? Even a gendarme gets it."

"Shouldn't a group have, like, more people in it?"

"Two's all you need. Me and Kim are the same way." (Turn to Kim.)

"Kim and I..." the lieutenant mutters under his breath. He scribbles something in his notebook but adds nothing else.

"The matchboxes... you were trying to make the tower from Nilsen's journals."

"So you really did read all the way to the end." A sheepish grin. "Yeah, Uli and I were trying to see whether there was enough plasm between the two of us to hold up a few matchboxes..."

Saying it out loud makes him realise how foolish it sounds.

"It was just a little informal experiment. No reason to take it too seriously."

Say nothing.

"Right. Basically an infra-materialist parlour game. Let's forget about it."

The charge in the air has changed. You allow the moment to pass.

"We should try again, all of us."

The young man looks at you a moment, then at his companion.

"What could it hurt? Alright, let's give it another go..."

"I'll sit this one out. I don't think you want my skeptical materialism interfering..."

Before long, a modest tower begins to rise from the pile of matchboxes...

You place every box with the utmost delicacy and precision.

"Easy, Uli..."

"It's holding, it's holding..."

For the moment.

The higher the tower goes, the quieter the room seems to become. Aside from the occasional comment, the three of you are completely absorbed by the task.

"Alright. You go next, Steban."

The young man pushes back his shirt sleeves, revealing the pale flesh of his forearms.

Say nothing.

"Is it... it's holding... it's holding!"

"Yes. This is the closest we've ever gotten."

It's almost exactly as Nilsen's sketch imagined, a physical manifestation of the dialectical spiral of history.

"Alright, gendarme, your turn."

You've got this. Theories aside, they're only matchboxes.

Even the lieutenant is watching intently now.

"This is tall enough, better not to risk it."

"What are you talking about, detective? You can't give up now."

"Come on, gendarme. Real progress requires great risks."

Take a deep breath. (Proceed.)

"It's... it's..."

"My god, is it really holding?"

"It is, it is..."