The Seven Madmen by Roberto Arlt Read Free Book Online Page A

We will familiarize people with our theories. For that purpose, there has to be a thorough study of propaganda techniques. We need to use students, both male and female. Science must be made to seem glamorous, must be made accessible to everybody ... "
    "I'm going now," said Erdosain.
    He was going to say good-bye to Haffner when the man said:
    "Wait a minute, listen."
    The Astrologer and the pimp went out for a moment, then came back in, and as he said his good-byes at the door of the house, Erdosain looked back and saw that giant man with his arms raised in farewell.
    The Opinions of the Melancholy Ruffian
    And once they were around the corner from the house, Erdosain said:
    "You know I have no way to thank you for the huge favor you just did me? Why did you give me the money?"
    The man, who swaggered a little in the shoulders as he walked, turned to him and replied tartly:
    "I don't know. You just caught me in the right mood is all. It's not like I had to do it every day ... but coming at me like that ... anyway, look, I'll make it back in a week easy."
    A question popped out spontaneously. "How come, if you already have a fortune, you keep pimping?"
    Haffner turned on him, looking feisty, then said: "Look here, pimping isn't a game any fool can play. You know? So why should I leave three women at loose ends when they can bring in two thousand pesos a month? Would you just let them go? No. So?"
    "And you don't love them? None of them especially appeals to you?"
    As soon as it was out of his mouth, Erdosain saw what an asinine question he had asked. The pimp looked at him a second, then answered:
    "Now listen to this. If tomorrow some doctor came and told me: that Basque woman of yours will be dead in a week on or off the job, then I'd let that woman, who's brought me in some thirty thousand pesos over four years, work six days more and die the seventh."
    The pimp was hoarse now. There was some rabid, bitter streak running through his words, a bitter streak Erdosain would later recognize in that whole breed of operators and bored sharpers.
    "Pity, huh?" he went on. "Listen, it's idiotic to pity a woman who sells herself. No woman could be harder, more bitter than the one who goes into the streets. Don't be surprised, because I know them. The only way to keep them in line is with the back of your hand. Like ninety percent of all people, you see the pimp as the exploiter and the prostitute as the victim. But tell me: what would a woman do with the money she brings in? What novelists don't mention is that a woman like that without a man goes running all over looking for a man to cheat her, smash her down every so often, and take all the money she makes, because that's what a mutt she is. They say woman is equal to man. What garbage. Woman is inferior to man. Take your wild savage tribe. She does the cooking, the work, everything, but the male goes off to hunt or fight. Same for modern life. The man, apart from making money, does nothing. And believe me, if you don't take a hooker's money she'll think very little of you. It's true, as soon as she starts to grow fond of you the first thing she wants is for you to hit on her ... She goes into ecstasy when you ask her, 'Ma chérie, could you loan me one hundred pesos?' Then she feels things are okay between you. At last the filthy money she makes is good for something if it makes her man happy. Naturally, novelists leave that part of it out. And people think we're monsters or some exotic creatures, that whole image they get from the pulps. But come live in our world, get to know it, and you'll see it's just like the middle class or aristocracy. The kept woman looks down on the showgirl, the showgirl looks down on the streetwalker, the streetwalker looks down on the woman in a brothel and, the funny thing is, just as the brothel girl almost always finds a man to take her for all she's worth, the showgirl finds some little rich kid, or even some crumbbum doctor to exploit her. The