Free The Adventures of God in His Search for the Black Girl by Brigid Brophy

is a chance that he will turn out to belong to the majority, in which case he will acquire the right.’
    ‘Do you imagine you’ve shewn me that I ought not to be glad I live in a democracy?’
    ‘Of course not. What I’ve shewn you is that, if you are glad, what you are glad of is that you live in a lottery.’

Disjecta Membra
    ‘There’s no point in going on asking what my fee is. My fee doesn’t exist, because I won’t perform the operation.’
    ‘Your fee exists all right. The doubt is whether it’s worth my while to pay it. Your fee is the sum that would persuade you to perform the operation.’
    ‘Nothing will persuade me.’
    ‘You mean you’ll do it for nothing?
    ‘I mean no such – Sorry,’ the surgeon said. ‘I’m not used to millionaires’ humour. I see it’s as specialised as medical humour. However, the answer is that I won’t do the job. So I’ll be getting back to the hospital.’
    ‘Sit down. You’ve established good personal relations with me. You’ve made me laugh. This is obviously the most advantageous moment for you to start to negotiate.’
    ‘I don’t want to negotiate. There’s nothing to negotiate.’
    ‘No, of course there isn’t: yet. I haven’t made you an offer yet.’
    ‘Look, I realise you can offer me – by my standards – the earth. But you must realise in your turn that I already make – again by my own standards – a very adequate living. I have few extravagant tastes. Those I have I can afford. I’m not pathologically greedy. So if you offer me the earth, my answer is, quite frankly, “Thanks, but I don’t need the earth.”’
    ‘Splendid. It looks as if I shan’t have to pay as much as I feared.’
    ‘Listen,’ the surgeon said, rearranging his posture in the chair as though thereby to rearrange his posture in the argument . ‘Can’t you just accept the fact that you’ve come up against medical ethics?’
    ‘I’m not asking you to perform an abortion. Or euthanasia.’
    ‘What a conventional view you take of medical ethics. There’s more to it than that.’
    ‘What more?’
    ‘Put it like this. My life’s work – my vocation, if you prefer – consists of removing damaged or unhealthy tissue, to the benefit of the patient’s general health. To remove un damaged , perfectly healthy tissue –’
    ‘Suppose I asked you to remove an inch of undamaged, perfectly healthy nose and thereby give me a handsomer face?’
    ‘I don’t do cosmetic surgery.’
    ‘That’s mere personal chit-chat. Do you in principle condemn those of your colleagues who do do cosmetic surgery?’
    ‘No. But they’re taking into consideration the patient’s general health, including his state of mind. If an ugly nose is rendering a patient liable to depression—’
    ‘And what about my state of mind? What about the depression I feel at the sheer waste involved in maintaining a long, heavy left arm that does nothing to earn its keep?’
    ‘Listen,’ the surgeon said patiently. ‘Listen.’ He rose and walked to the window, which was covered by a Venetian blind. He peered between two of the slats and managed to see a little light. ‘I don’t understand what you hope to gain. Do you imagine you could save on your food bills if you had one limb fewer to support? Have you some naïve idea that food intake is directly related to body weight? Is that it? Well, you’re wrong. What one eats is largely a matter of habit. And even if you managed to re-train your appetite, how much would you save? Ten pence a day? 20 pence a day? You don’t need to save 20 pence a day.’
    ‘And you said I was naïve,’ the businessman said. ‘You think of finance as just getting and spending. Perhaps it’s the fault of your medical training. You see it in terms of the alimentary tract.’
    ‘All right. If I’m naïve, explain to me. What is this idea all about?’
    ‘Well, primarily, it’s a matter of principle.’
    ‘Principle?’ said the surgeon, shocked into turning