The Judgement of Karl Marx

Peter Turton

Description

The Judgement of Karl Marx is a play, partly serious and partly comic, dealing with the reasons for the failure of Marxism. In act one, through an extraordinary arrangement, Karl Marx is allowed to confront the main 20th-century practitioners of his doctrines: Lenin, Stalin, Mao Tse Tung, Fidel Castro, etc. He is not pleased at what they have done, but they themselves have found his ideas for building a better society somewhat lacking in realism. The second act brings Marx face to face with capitalists of various kinds, who give him as good as they get. Was Marxism, to put it bluntly, defeated by McDonald's? The third act is a garden party where, in an agreeable atmosphere of food, drink and beautiful music, the old fellow can relax and chat with such worthies as Socrates, Jonathan Swift, Nietzsche and Dostoevsky. But certain powers are dissatisfied with the human race itself and visit an apocalypse on it. Or so Marx believes... In the epilogue, he returns to the reality of his life in Victorian England. But there is not much hope there either...

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• The arts

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 08 janvier 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528967440
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Judgement of Karl Marx
A Political Extravaganza
Peter Turton
Austin Macauley Publishers
2021-01-08
The Judgement of Karl Marx The Judgement of Karl Marx Act 1 Act 2 Act 3 Epilogue
Peter Turton was born in Wakefield, England, in 1941 to a working-class family. He left home at 17, later on winning a scholarship to Cambridge University to study modern languages. After one year he left for Spain, where he spent three years working in a language school. He then returned to Cambridge to resume his studies. After graduation he went back to Spain, working in a blast furnace, then as a technical translator and then for an engineering firm. Receiving a Commonwealth Scholarship, he spent three years in Canada doing a doctorate in Spanish literature. He spent 1970–71 in Cuba at the University of Havana, leaving to teach Hispanic Studies in Canada. Back in England, he worked at the Polytechnic (subsequently University) of North London for 21 years. Taking early retirement from this institution, he taught for a year at Northern Arizona University, leaving afterwards for Brazil, where he spent some 15 years, 11 of them teaching at a university in the state of Bahia. Presently he lives in London.
To Felix, who first read and liked this work.
Copyright © Peter Turton (2021)
The right of Peter Turton to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528933360 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528967440 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2021)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Special thanks to Rafael Pita for the cover illustration of Karl Marx.
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”
– A Midsummer Night’s Dream
"When we are born, we cry that we are come
to this great stage of fools."
– King Lear
Act 1
A small congress hall illuminated by magnificent chandeliers. The walls and ceiling are bright red. A rostrum facing wooden benches made of antique mahogany. A door at the back and a door at the side. A handsome young man of somewhat androgynous features comes in through the back door. He is dressed like a dandy, rather in the style of the American writer Tom Wolfe, in a dazzling white suit and mauve tie, spats, and expensive brown shoes. Although slim, his back seems disproportionately bulky, as if he were carrying something there beneath the shoulders of his jacket. His name is Michael .
MICHAEL [addressing the side door] : You may enter now, Professor Marx.
Enter a Jewish-looking man with a large forehead and bushy beard. He is wearing a black suit.
KARL MARX [testily] : Where am I and why was I brought here?
MICHAEL: This is your big day, Karl. A symposium on your philosophy has been arranged. We painted the walls red to make you feel at home. The most important of the practitioners of Marxism will be brought before you and you can question them about why they did what they did in your name. We want to find out exactly where you and they went wrong.
MARX: Who’s we? And where am I?
MICHAEL: I’ll answer your second question first. You’re in the afterlife. “We” are the Boss and his associates.
MARX: The Boss?
MICHAEL: Usually known as God. I’m his special messenger, Michael.
MARX: Nonsense. There is no God or afterlife.
MICHAEL: How do you then explain being here in the Earth year 2004 when you died in 1883?
MARX: Me, die? I don’t recall that, although I was very ill in 1883.
MICHAEL: I can assure you that you are dead. In the world beyond, we’re not allowed to tell lies. Not that I ever felt the inclination, unlike some of the Boss’s associates. Let me ask you a question. Do you know the names Lenin and Stalin? Or Mao Tse Tung and Ho Chi Minh? I think you do, although they all came to prominence after your death.
MARX [surprised] : I do. I saw these people in my dreams. Some of the things they did shocked me.
MICHAEL: No, Karl. You did not dream these people. You were allowed to see what they did in your name from the vantage point of the afterlife. The Boss likes to use the afterlife to set people straight. Some are actually punished. Not you, though, because the Boss actually quite approved of you. Even though you didn’t believe in Him, He believed in you, in His own way. Helping the struggling masses and all that. You were a good sort, in spite of your pedantry and your vicious polemics with others on the left who didn’t agree with you. He didn’t much like your letting your family starve, either. But all in all, He was a fan. Hence this symposium. Not everybody in the afterlife gets a symposium all to himself. You’ll be able to confront your followers and your enemies. They will also be allowed to question you. We’re fair here. Not like on Earth. Between you and me, the Earth’s a bit of a shit hole.
MARX: It certainly is. That’s what I was trying to correct. But it seems that things didn’t work out. In fact, I may even have made things worse. All those millions of peasants that died under the Bolsheviks. All those people put in slave camps by Stalin. Oh, my God.
MICHAEL: I’m glad you believe in Him.
MARX: That was just an exclamation.
MICHAEL: I think not. You do realise you’re in the afterlife, don’t you?
MARX: Oh, I suppose so.
MICHAEL: And who could have kept you alive but the Boss?
MARX: You may well be right. I’m so confused.
MICHAEL: Don’t worry. The Boss understands the fallibility of the human race. After all, He created it, unfortunately.
MARX: Unfortunately? You mean God repented of having produced man?
MICHAEL: You know that as well as I, old son. You’re a Jew and have the Old Testament imprinted in your brain. You know what it says there. How Adam and Eve were given free will and chose the wrong tree, the Tree of Knowledge instead of the Tree of Life. Right from the start, the human race was discontented. Thought it could be as powerful as the Boss Himself. Remember the Tower of Babel. The Americans, as you know, put two men on the moon. And now they have two vehicles on Mars. And for what purpose? To be able to examine a few rocks, apparently. Of course, they really have larger schemes afoot, to do with political and military power. You will have noted that the Soviets never managed to get a man on the moon. Capitalism won there, didn’t it? And went on to crush your system generally. But we don’t really blame you. As I said, the Boss esteems you highly.
MARX: Er, I don’t quite know how to put this, but could I talk directly to your Boss, as you call Him? Person to person, so to speak.
MICHAEL: I’m glad you’ve finally admitted you believe in Him. But you can’t. He’s invisible. By definition.
MARX: But people in the Bible saw him.
MICHAEL: No. He appeared as an image in their brains. They assumed it was Him. Nobody has seen Him face to face, even in the afterlife, despite what the lunatic St Paul says.
MARX: I would dearly like to know why He made such a mess of man. Adam and Eve went wrong from the start, choosing disobedience. Then Cain killed his brother. Then Sodom and Gomorrah. Why did He let it all happen?
MICHAEL: He did try to correct man, giving him warnings. Remember Noah and the Ark. The idea was to save all the good people from the destruction of the Flood. But even Noah, one of the Boss’s chosen, turned out to be a bit of a drunkard. So imagine what the bad guys were like. The prophets leave us in no doubt. Just one example: Jeremiah. You know what he said.
MARX: He said such a lot. All good stuff. The truth.
MICHAEL: Get an earful of this. In one place Jeremiah repeats the Boss’s words verbatim: “Thy children have forsaken me, and sworn by them that are no gods: when I had fed them to the full, they then committed adultery, and assembled themselves by troops in the harlots’ houses. They were as fed horses in the morning: every one neighed after his neighbour’s wife. Shall I not visit thee for these things, saith the Lord, and shall not my soul be avenged on a nation such as this?”
MARX: I get the point. Magnificently phrased, too. But tell me. If God is God, why did He make such a mess? Didn’t He know what was going to happen?
MICHAEL: I was going to say, you must ask Him, but of course you can’t. It’s a tricky question that’s beyond me. I’m only a messenger.
MARX: I mean if your Boss is really an all-powerful God, He doesn’t make mistakes.
MICHAEL: That point was made by St Augustine, who had trouble in squaring it with his acceptance of the literal truth of the Bible, where it states that God repented, got angry, and so on. Augustine said God cannot get angry or repent.
MARX: And there it is, in black and white, in the Old Testament.
MICHAEL: Between you and me, the Old Testament is right. I myself know the Boss got furious many times. I think all the problem comes from the Devil. The Boss let him loose on the world, to test people, and I think he got out of control. Humanity seemed to admire him. He’s a handsome fellow, you know, a former close colleague of mine. But he got too big for his boots, and the human race took after him. That’s why the world is such a scummy place. That’s why you get all those stinking politicians ruling everythin