Babel : Or the Necessity of Violence: an Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution (9780063021440)

Robin, too, thought the photograph looked strange, though he did not say so aloud. All of their expressions were artificial, masks of faint discomfort. The camera had distorted and flattened the spirit that bound them, and the invisible warmth and camaraderie between them appeared now like a stilted, forced closeness. Photography, he thought, was also a kind of translation, and they had all come out the poorer for it.

Violets cast into crucibles, indeed.

Chapter Ten

To preserve the principles of their pupils they confine them to the safe and elegant imbecilities of classical learning. A genuine Oxford tutor would shudder to hear his young men disputing upon moral and political truth, forming and pulling down theories, and indulging in all the boldness of political discussion. He would augur nothing from it but impiety to God, and treason to Kings.

SYDNEY SMITH, ‘Edgeworth’s Professional Education’

Near the end of Michaelmas term that year, Griffin seemed to be around more than usual. Robin had been starting to wonder where he’d gone; since he’d got back from Malacca, his assignments had dropped from twice a month to once to none. But in December, Robin began to receive notes instructing him to meet Griffin outside the Twisted Root every few days, where they commenced their usual routine of walking frantically round the city. Usually these were preludes to planned thefts. But occasionally Griffin seemed to have no agenda in mind, and instead wanted only to chat. Robin eagerly awaited these talks; they were the only times when his brother seemed less mysterious, more human, more flesh and bone. But Griffin never answered the questions Robin really wanted to discuss, which were what Hermes did with the materials he helped steal, and how the revolution, if there was one, was proceeding. ‘I still don’t trust you,’ he would say. ‘You’re still too new.’

I don’t trust you either, Robin thought but didn’t say. Instead, he probed at things in a roundabout way. ‘How long has Hermes been around?’

Griffin shot him a droll look. ‘I know what you’re doing.’

‘I just want to know if it’s a modern invention, or, or—’

‘I don’t know. I’ve no idea. Decades at least, perhaps longer, but I’ve never found out. Why don’t you ask what you really want to know?’

‘Because you won’t tell me.’

‘Try me.’

‘Fine. Then if it’s been around for longer, I can’t understand . . . ’

‘You can’t see why we haven’t won already. Is that it?’

‘No. I just don’t see what difference it makes,’ said Robin. ‘Babel is – Babel. And you’re just—’

‘A small cluster of exiled scholars chipping away at the behemoth?’ Griffin supplied. ‘Say what you mean, brother, don’t dither.’

‘I was going to say “massively outnumbered idealists”, but yes. I mean – please, Griffin, it’s just hard to keep faith when it’s unclear what effect there is to anything I do.’

Griffin slowed his pace. He was silent for a few seconds, considering, and then he said, ‘I’m going to paint you a picture. Where does silver come from?’

‘Griffin, honestly—’

‘Indulge me.’

‘I’ve got class in ten minutes.’

‘And it’s not a simple answer. Craft won’t throw you out for being late just once. Where does silver come from?’

‘I don’t know. Mines?’

Griffin sighed heavily. ‘Don’t they teach you anything?’

‘Griffin—’

‘Just listen. Silver’s been around forever. The Athenians were mining it in Attica, and the Romans, as you know, used silver to expand their empire once they realized what it could do. But silver didn’t become international currency, didn’t facilitate a trade network spanning continents, until much later. There simply wasn’t enough of it. Then in the sixteenth century, the Hapsburgs – the first truly global empire – stumbled upon massive silver deposits in the Andes. The Spaniards brought it out of the mountains, courtesy of indigenous miners you can be certain weren’t paid fairly for their labour,^* and minted it into their little pieces of eight, which brought riches flowing into Seville and Madrid.

‘Silver made them rich – rich enough to buy printed cotton cloth from India, which they used to pay for bound slaves from Africa, who they put to work on plantations in their colonies. So the Spanish become richer and richer, and everywhere they go they leave death, slavery, and impoverishment in their wake. You see the patterns so far, surely?’