Read David Golder, The Ball, Snow in Autumn & The Courilof Affair (2008) for Free Online Page B
Authors: Irène Némirovsky
Tags: Irene Nemirovsky
during the war, of whom only about 3 per cent survive.
Jews ordered to wear the yellow star of David (June 7). Second “Otto List” (July). “Operation Vent Printanier” (July): on the orders of the German authorities, French police undertake to arrest foreign Jews, targeting mainly Eastern European adults without French citizenship.
Fall of Singapore. German army reaches Stalingrad. Rommel defeated at El Alamein. Allied landings in French North Africa (November) to a short-lived resistance from Vichy troops in Morocco and Algeria. Hitler orders German troops to occupy the whole of France (November 11): Vichy government survives on suffrance.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to Olivier Philipponnat and Patrick Lienhardt, authors of
The Life of Irene Nemirovsky
, who have provided the biographical details necessary for this chronology.
DAVID GELDER
“ NO, ” SAID GOLDER, tilting his desklamp so that the light shone directly into the face of Simon Marcus who was sitting opposite him on the other side of the table. For a moment Golder observed the wrinkles and lines that furrowed Marcus’s swarthy face whenever he moved his lips or closed his eyes, like the ripples on dark water when the wind blows across it. But his hooded eyes with their Oriental languor remained calm, bored, and indifferent. A face as unyielding as a wall. Golder carefully lowered the lamp’s flexible metal stem.
“A hundred, Golder? Think about it. It’s a good price,” said Marcus.
“No,” Golder murmured again, then added, “I don’t want to sell.”
Marcus laughed. His long white teeth, capped in gold, gleamed eerily in the darkness.
“How much were your famous oil shares worth in 1920 when you first bought them?” he drawled; his voice was nasal, sarcastic.
“I bought them at four hundred. And if those Soviet pigs had given the nationalised land back to the oil companies, I would have made a lot of money. Lang and his group were backing me. In 1913, the daily output from the Teisk region was already ten thousand tons… seriously. After the Genoa Conference, I remember my shares fell from four hundred to one hundred and two … After that…” Golder made a vague gesture of frustration. “But I held on to them … Money was no object, in those days.”
“Yes, but now, in 1926, don’t you realise that your Russian oilfields aren’t worth shit to you? Well? I mean, it’s not as if you have either the means or the inclination to go and run them yourself, is it? All you can hope to do is shift them for a higher price on the Stock Market… A hundred is a good sum.”
Golder slowly rubbed his eyes; the smoke that filled the room had irritated them.
“No, I don’t want to sell.” He spoke more quietly this time. “I’ll sell after Tubingen Petroleum signs the agreement for the concession in Teisk. I think you know the one I’m talking about…”
Marcus mumbled what sounded like “Ah, yes…” and fell silent.
“You’ve been negotiating that deal behind my back since last year, Marcus,” Golder said slowly. “You know you have … I bet they offered you a good price for my shares once they closed the deal, didn’t they?”
He said no more, for his heart was beating almost painfully, just as it always did when he claimed a victory. Marcus slowly stubbed out his cigar in the overflowing ashtray.
“If he suggests we go fifty-fifty,” Golder thought suddenly, “it will all be over for him.”
He leaned forward so he could hear what Marcus was about to say. There was a brief silence, then Marcus spoke.
“Why don’t we go halves, Golder?”
Golder clenched his teeth. “Are you serious?”
“You know, Golder, you shouldn’t make another enemy,” Marcus murmured, lowering his eyes. “You’ve got enough already.”
His hands were clutching the wooden table, and as they moved, his nails made short, sharp little scratching noises. Beneath the light of the lamp, his long fingers with their heavy rings
Jews ordered to wear the yellow star of David (June 7). Second “Otto List” (July). “Operation Vent Printanier” (July): on the orders of the German authorities, French police undertake to arrest foreign Jews, targeting mainly Eastern European adults without French citizenship.
Fall of Singapore. German army reaches Stalingrad. Rommel defeated at El Alamein. Allied landings in French North Africa (November) to a short-lived resistance from Vichy troops in Morocco and Algeria. Hitler orders German troops to occupy the whole of France (November 11): Vichy government survives on suffrance.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to Olivier Philipponnat and Patrick Lienhardt, authors of
The Life of Irene Nemirovsky
, who have provided the biographical details necessary for this chronology.
DAVID GELDER
“ NO, ” SAID GOLDER, tilting his desklamp so that the light shone directly into the face of Simon Marcus who was sitting opposite him on the other side of the table. For a moment Golder observed the wrinkles and lines that furrowed Marcus’s swarthy face whenever he moved his lips or closed his eyes, like the ripples on dark water when the wind blows across it. But his hooded eyes with their Oriental languor remained calm, bored, and indifferent. A face as unyielding as a wall. Golder carefully lowered the lamp’s flexible metal stem.
“A hundred, Golder? Think about it. It’s a good price,” said Marcus.
“No,” Golder murmured again, then added, “I don’t want to sell.”
Marcus laughed. His long white teeth, capped in gold, gleamed eerily in the darkness.
“How much were your famous oil shares worth in 1920 when you first bought them?” he drawled; his voice was nasal, sarcastic.
“I bought them at four hundred. And if those Soviet pigs had given the nationalised land back to the oil companies, I would have made a lot of money. Lang and his group were backing me. In 1913, the daily output from the Teisk region was already ten thousand tons… seriously. After the Genoa Conference, I remember my shares fell from four hundred to one hundred and two … After that…” Golder made a vague gesture of frustration. “But I held on to them … Money was no object, in those days.”
“Yes, but now, in 1926, don’t you realise that your Russian oilfields aren’t worth shit to you? Well? I mean, it’s not as if you have either the means or the inclination to go and run them yourself, is it? All you can hope to do is shift them for a higher price on the Stock Market… A hundred is a good sum.”
Golder slowly rubbed his eyes; the smoke that filled the room had irritated them.
“No, I don’t want to sell.” He spoke more quietly this time. “I’ll sell after Tubingen Petroleum signs the agreement for the concession in Teisk. I think you know the one I’m talking about…”
Marcus mumbled what sounded like “Ah, yes…” and fell silent.
“You’ve been negotiating that deal behind my back since last year, Marcus,” Golder said slowly. “You know you have … I bet they offered you a good price for my shares once they closed the deal, didn’t they?”
He said no more, for his heart was beating almost painfully, just as it always did when he claimed a victory. Marcus slowly stubbed out his cigar in the overflowing ashtray.
“If he suggests we go fifty-fifty,” Golder thought suddenly, “it will all be over for him.”
He leaned forward so he could hear what Marcus was about to say. There was a brief silence, then Marcus spoke.
“Why don’t we go halves, Golder?”
Golder clenched his teeth. “Are you serious?”
“You know, Golder, you shouldn’t make another enemy,” Marcus murmured, lowering his eyes. “You’ve got enough already.”
His hands were clutching the wooden table, and as they moved, his nails made short, sharp little scratching noises. Beneath the light of the lamp, his long fingers with their heavy rings