The Absolutist

by John Boyne

We had been together less than fifteen minutes but I felt that this must be what it would be like to be married to someone, a constant back and forth of bickering, watching out for any stray comment in a conversation that might be corrected, anything to keep gaining the upper hand, the advantage, bringing one closer to taking the game, the set and the whole blasted match without ever ceding a point.

Nobody claims to understand why we are given life in the first place, that would be a heresy, and yet so many purport to be completely sure about what will happen after they die. It’s absurd.’

‘Curious, isn’t it, Tristan,’ asked Marian, ‘how we consider the death of a soldier to be a source of pride rather than a source of national shame? It’s not as if we had any business being in the Transvaal in the first place.’

‘You must keep coming back to this, mustn’t you?’ he says, growing angry now. ‘You’re worse than a woman, do you know that?’