The People's Act of Love

‘I miss Nekovar’, said Broucek, standing next to Mutz.‘It is cold,’ said Mutz, without thinking. ‘Not just because he’d fix the heating in here. Being with a woman will never be so satisfying, knowing he won’t be there later to ask me questions all day about how it works.’

Broucek hesitated. ‘Don’t think about the widow, brother. I know a place in Irkutsk which’ll help you forget.’ Broucek began to list the bordellos and dance halls on their route, which they might visit while they were crawling their way east along the Trans-siberian through the great White rout, through Krasnoyarsk, to Irkutsk by Lake Baikal, through the Yablonov mountains just north of Mongolia, skirting the Chinese border along the river Amur, to the sea of Japan. It might be months before they reached Vladivostok, and their journey would still be half done.‘I’m worried about crossing America by train,’ said Broucek. What if we have to fight our way, like here?’‘I don’t think we will.’‘Isn’t it the same? I’ve read about it. I’ve seen films. Flat plains and forests, Indians instead of Tungus, snow and heat, Rockies instead of Urals, cowboys for Cossacks. Don’t they have Reds in America, brother?’‘Yes. But they aren’t roaming Colorado in armoured trains.’
Extrait de The People’s act of love, dernier chapitre, James Meek, 2004

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