“Surely by now he has had time enough to reply to my letter. Perhaps he is ill? I cannot believe that he has had a change of heart. But I have had another letter from Alexandra, which disturbs me almost as much as does Tom’s silence. Chère Jeanne, I have been to visit my family in Brussels, and while I was there I paid my respects to my father’s old comrade M. Elisée Reclus, who has retired to a pleasant house at Ixelles. In his old age he is as radical as ever, and continues to produce impassio...ned manifestos inciting the working classes to revolt. There in his pleasant suburban garden, or by his fireside late at night, political exiles, poets and free thinkers of all kinds grow drunk on cheap red wine and revolutionary fervour. And Paris, too, is delirious with change, with the promise of revolution. You can smell it on the air, like a whiff of gunpowder. Everywhere in the cafés are nihilists, anarchists, Marxists. Nothing is sacred, all things are possible. The artists too, and the poets, are caught up in the ferment, outraging the bourgeoisie and overturning stale conventions.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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