Deep River

by Karl Marlantes

would be her first insight into organizing; working people don’t have time to debate theory. That was why most socialist theorists and organizers weren’t from the working class.

“You keep it up and you’ll lose your job.” “This country has freedom of speech.” “Sure thing. You can say anything you like. And then get fired.”

We don’t wait for Marxist bullshit about a workers’ paradise. We don’t wait for the Republicans or the Democrats. They’re both financed by capitalists.” He was looking at her, his eyes burning, burning away any lingering annoyance, any lingering doubt. “We organize! We take direct action. If we don’t get justice, we shut America down.”

Nor did it matter to Aino. Her model was the Salvation Army. It, too, knew that unemployed men were there for the food, not the good of their souls.

She knew she was trying to overturn centuries of conditioning, knowing one’s place in the social order, learning not to complain, learning to endure, learning to keep one’s mouth shut.

“Why this sudden concern for the Bill of Rights?” “Because those stupid knuckleheads in the city council, and that includes you, don’t see that if we double these workers’ wages, we double our profits. Where in hell are eight or ten thousand single men going to spend that extra money? They sure as hell aren’t buying encyclopedias and Bibles.”

The IWWs had the moral high ground and thought they were winning. In all wars, however, both sides think they’re right and can win.

“There are three good-enoughs in basket weaving. The first is that your basket does the job it was made for.” Mielikki nodded. “The second is that your basket will hold water for a year.” Mielikki showed despair. “The third is when you can make a basket without worrying about whether it is good enough. The third one is hardest.”

“Poverty makes desperate workers compete for jobs. That leads to low wages and more poverty. To break free, they need to share in the wealth they produce. This co-op will break some of us free in Astoria. That’s the obsession.”

The forest was like a giant farm that nobody had planted and nobody replanted.

“God is like a rushing waterfall. If you stand in it and try to drink, you will be smashed into the rocks and lost downstream. Antero Vipunen and Jesus are also God, but they are the slow streams at the waterfall’s base that allow us to drink.”

They said very little but found themselves standing side by side, their arms around each other’s waists, looking up the river. With those you love, you accept that there are only two ways you will not get hurt when you lose them. You stop loving them or you die first.