THALIA - Bergotte (best book reader txt) 📗

/> “Are you a prophet of doom, forecasting the end of the world?” the woman asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not prophesying the end of the physical world, but the end of our world, civilisation as we know it.”
“There will always be change, won’t there?”
“Yes, but it is the speed of change that concerns me. Also, change can be for the good or for the bad. All the changes I foresee are for the worse.”
The woman turned on her heel abruptly and disappeared in the throng of people emerging from the Abbey.

CHAPTER V

The following Tuesday evening saw the first meeting of the newly formed string quartet. This took place at the home of Andrew and Giorgia. David and Thalia arrived just before seven thirty. They were shown into the living room where they put up music stands and tuned their instruments. Andrew gave out the parts. “I’ve got some Mozart quartets that we can try, if you like. Let’s start with the Minuet from number twelve, K. 156. It’s fairly straight forward. We can take the Trio section a bit slower if you like.”

The four players sat down on the chairs already arranged in a circle for them by Giorgia. Thalia, who had been very apprehensive about playing, breathed a sigh of relief when she opened her second violin part. It did look fairly straight forward, as Andrew had said. All she had to do was count carefully, so that she would come in at the right moment. They played through the movement, without a hitch. Even the trio section in G minor, presented few problems. They then tackled the first movement, presto and finally the adagio, slow movement. Thalia was beginning to enjoy herself as they played the whole piece through once more, without a break.

While Giorgia and David went out to prepare some refreshments, Andrew engaged Thalia in conversation.
“David’s been telling me about your open air speaking in the Abbey Courtyard on Sunday morning,” he began.
“Yes,” replied Thalia, “I thought I would give it a try. I was quite pleased with the results. Some folk stopped to listen. I was heckled once, and a lady spoke to me at the end, but I don’t think that she was very impressed with what I was saying.”
“Why not?”
“She thought I was a messenger of doom and gloom, prophesying the end of the world.”
“And you’re not?” asked Andrew.
“No, not the end of the material world, as such, but the end of our world, our civilisation.”
“Civilisations have disappeared in the past,” observed Andrew.
“Have they?”
“Yes. The ancient Sumerian civilisation, in what the Greeks called Mesopotamia. It was there; probably in the city of Uruk, that writing was invented. It was also in ancient Sumer that time was first measured, with sixty seconds in a minute and sixty minutes in an hour.”
“Oh, I don’t know anything about Mesopotamia. I’ve never even heard of it,” said Thalia, as David returned with some sandwiches and side-plates.
“The Roman empire and the Greek empire have both risen and fallen. The British Empire has now come to an end. So, you see, civilisations come and go.”
“I think there is something different in what Thalia is arguing,” interjected David. “Earlier empires, or civilisations, came about as a result of one country colonising others and thus building an empire. But in her prophecies, Thalia is referring to, for example, the world economy and the part the banks play. The Christian church has for centuries had concerns over the question of whether it is moral to lend money on interest and concluded that it isn’t. The banking system, as it has developed, has done so on the basis that bank managers should exhibit the kind of moral rectitude exhibited by church ministers, because it is so easy to cheat the innocent, the vulnerable and gullible out of their money.”
“Yes, I take that point. Under Jewish law, usury is forbidden, of course.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“So you do both support me in what I am saying?” said Thalia.
“Yes, I think so,” said Andrew, “but what are you trying to achieve with your prophetic forecasts?”
“If governments and institutions take action, what I am prophesying need not come to pass. It is all down to greed and self-interest,” said Thalia.
“If you want to influence government, you should get into politics, shouldn’t you; rather than haranguing people in the street?” demanded Andrew.
“That may come later, when I am old enough to vote,” retorted Thalia, “but at the moment, as things stand, I simply have a burning desire to influence public opinion by speaking out in public.”
“Okay,” said David, “but I think you need some organisation behind you to make your message more effective. You need some publicity and access to the mass media.”
“Yes, I see what you mean.”
“We could help her, couldn’t we Andrew?” asked David.
“Yes, I see no reason why not,” he replied, “and I should think Giorgia will lend her support also.”

When she returned to the living room, carrying a large tray of assorted drinks, the two men explained to Giorgia what they had been discussing with Thalia.
“I would love to help you, Thalia, in your quest. I do admire your courage in standing up and speaking out in public,” she added.
“Yes,” said Andrew, “it’s truly admirable.”
“When do you plan to speak again?” asked David.
“Well,” said the prophetess, “I thought I might try on Saturday morning, in the same place, if the weather holds. I’m not going to do it if it is pouring with rain. There are usually a lot of shoppers walking through to get to other parts of the city, as well as visitors on their way to the Roman Baths and Pump Room.”
“Mmn,” said Andrew, “that sounds like a good idea. Would you be better off with something to stand on, like the proverbial soapbox?”
“I don’t want to carry anything. I have enough to do in thinking what I am going to say.”
“What time are you going to start?”
“About ten, I thought.”
“Good. I can drive in with a box in the boot of my car,” said Andrew, “and meet you both there.”
“I’ll be there as well,” said Giorgia.

While they ate the sandwiches and drank the coffee she had provided, David had a serious talk with Andrew. Thalia decided she would try to get to know Giorgia.
“I saw your name Giorgia, written on an envelope in the hall. It’s a rather strange spelling isn’t it?” asked Thalia.
“It may look odd to you, but it’s Italian. Both my parents are Italian.”
“You don’t look very Italian, if you don’t mind my saying so,” remarked Thalia.
“That’s probably because you have a stereotyped view of what Italians look like, short in stature with jet black hair. This is derived from television shows and Hollywood films. My family is Lombard, from Lombardy in the north of Italy. We have brown hair and are quite tall,” replied Giorgia.

“Ah, I see … I stand corrected, then,” replied Thalia. “Were you born in Italy?”
“Yes, I lived there as a child, but my family moved to England, to avoid the persecution, when I started secondary school, when I was eleven.”
“How was your family persecuted?”
“By the Roman Catholic Church.”
“You are not Catholic?”
“No, not at all,” replied Giorgia. “My family belongs to the Brethren. We call it Fratelli. Along with the Baptists, there are about two hundred thousand of us in Italy. The Brethren are Derbyist, originally from Ireland. In Italy, if a girl wants to get married, she must get permission from her parish priest. We Brethren and Baptists don’t have a parish priest. We wouldn’t get married in a Catholic church anyway. So, the State does not officially recognise our children. We are deemed to be illegitimate. And if you are illegitimate it is much harder for you to get work. So, for us, this constitutes persecution. It is not just something that happened long ago in the sixteenth century Reformation, but is happening today.”
“So, you came here to find work?”
“Yes, but my parents moved back to Italy and now live in Liguria. My father owns a shoe factory. He is a shoemaker, or cobbler, by trade. Now he is approaching retirement and has settled on the Ligurian coast, near Santa Margherita. I met Andrew when I was at college. We married after graduating. I now teach ’cello,” Giorgia explained.
“Do you teach in a school?”
“No, Andrew is the schoolteacher. I’m a peripatetic ’cello teacher. I travel round to five different schools every week, one day in each one. I wouldn’t like to teach class music. I much prefer to be an instrumental teacher. I take private pupils as well, in the same way that Andrew might teach you the violin, if you ask him nicely,” responded Giorgia.

When the four began again with the quartet practice, Thalia’s mind was not really on the music. Her head was swimming with the new ideas presented to her by these new friends. She was very thankful to have met them and now resolved to deliver her prophesies more effectively. What she did not realise was that the other three quartet members were equally preoccupied with the same task as Thalia.


CHAPTER VI

On the following Saturday Thalia spoke again in the courtyard, drawing a much bigger crowd than she had done on the previous Sunday. The three members of the audience that she had brought with her, helped to boost her confidence. She repeated what she had said before, but this time added a much more personal note, which many of her hearers understood as a direct, personal, attack on them. This only served to antagonise them.

“You are a greedy, earthborn generation, as will be future generations, savage in your desire for continuous material prosperity. Watch, and you will see what I am describing, taking place in front of your eyes.”

She could see straight away that they did not like this at all: they blamed the message on the messenger and some tried to heckle Thalia as she spoke. One called her a religious crank, although she had made no mention of religion. Another thought she was a left-wing agitator. However, she had made no direct reference to anything political.

The group of four retired to the Pump Room for a welcome coffee break and a discussion of Thalia’s progress.
“I enjoyed listening to you,” commented Giorgia enthusiastically, when the waitress had taken their order. "I think you have a gift for public