Pelle the Conqueror, Martin Andersen Nexø [best fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗
- Author: Martin Andersen Nexø
Book online «Pelle the Conqueror, Martin Andersen Nexø [best fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗». Author Martin Andersen Nexø
Before Pelle was aware, he had included the whole world in his solidarity. He knew now that poverty is international. And he was convinced that the poor man felt alike all the world over.
The greatness of this idea did not go to his head. It had evolved naturally on the lines of his own organization—it was just like the idea at the base of the latter. But he continued to play with it until it assumed a definite form. Then he went with his plan to his father-in-law, who was a member of the party executive, and through him was invited to lay the matter before the Central Committee.
Pelle was a practised speaker by now, but he was feverishly excited when he stood in the presence of the actual heart of the labor movement. His words delighted the many, but would he succeed in winning over these tried and experienced men, the leaders who stood behind the whole movement, while quietly going about their own business? He felt that this was the most significant day in his life.
These were men with quieter temperaments than his own. They sat there immovable, listening with half-closed eyes; his big words brought the faintest smile to their lips—they had long got over that sort of thing! They were artisans and craftsmen who worked hard all day for a living, as did he himself, but several of them had given themselves a considerable education; they must be regarded as scholarly persons. In the evening and on Sundays they worked for the Cause, devising political schemes and devoting themselves to keeping accounts and the ever-increasing work of administration. They were awkward at these unaccustomed tasks, which had hitherto been reserved by quite a different class of society, and had had to grow accustomed thereto; their heads were gray and wrinkled.
Pelle felt that he was still only at the beginning. These men gave him the impression of a great secret council; outside they looked like anyone else, but here at the green table they sat creating the vast organization into which he merely drove the masses. Here high politics came into play. There was something impious in this—as though one saw ants making plans to overturn a mountain; and he must do the same if he wanted to accomplish anything! But here something more than big words was needed! He involuntarily moderated his tone and did his best to speak in a dry, professional manner.
He received no applause when he had finished; the men sat there gazing in front of them with a slightly pondering expression. The silence and the great empty room had the effect of making him feel dizzy. All his faculties were directed outward, drawing strength from the echo from without of the many who had shaped him. But at this decisive moment they were silent, leaving him in suspense, without any kind of support. Was the whole stupendous plan of federation a piece of madness, and was he a fool to propound it? No one replied. The leaders quietly asked him the details of his plan, and undertook to consider it.
Pelle left in a state of dreadful suspense. He felt that he had touched upon something on which a great decision depended, and he wanted corroboration of the fact that he had set about the matter rightly. In this moment of need he turned to himself. It was not his way to ask questions of his inner self, but now no other could answer him. He must look to himself for recognition.
This was the first time that Pelle had sought refuge in his own ego, or learned to fall back upon it in critical moments. But solitude did not suit him and he sought it only under the compulsion of necessity. His heart beat uncontrollably within him when he learned that his plan was approved. A committee was appointed to put it into execution, and Pelle was on the committee.
At one stroke the National Federation made a single army of the many divisions, and was effective merely by the attractive virtue of its mass. It became a heavy and fatiguing task to organize the swarms that came streaming in, as water rushes to the sea, by virtue of a natural law. It needed the talent of a great general to marshal them for a conclusive battle and to lead them into the line of fire.
Pelle was naturally placed in the front ranks of the organization; his work was properly that of the pioneer and agitator; no one possessed the ear of the crowd as he did. He had received regular employment from one of the larger employers, which amounted to a recognition of the organization, and the increased rate of wages meant that he earned a moderate income. He did not object to the fact that the work had to be done away from home. Life at home had lost its radiance. Ellen was loving enough, but she had always some purpose in view—and he would not allow himself to be tied!
When he went home—and as a rule he managed to include a meal—it was only to make himself ready and to rush out again—to general or committee meetings. Father Lasse was there as a rule in the evenings, and he gazed longingly after Pelle when the latter left his wife and child; he did not understand it, but he did not venture to say anything—he felt a great respect for the lad’s undertakings. Ellen and the old man had discovered one another; they were like a pair
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