Manderlay Page #10

but the Mansi, how they f***!

Well, I'll be seein' you.

We can talk business another day.

Grace went straight to the last pages

with the tables of personal details

on the slaves of Manderlay.

Where was Timothy now?

Yes, his name had a "1"beside it.

A Proudy Slave,

as she'd read earlier.

Or did it?

She looked more closely

at the handwritten number.

She compared it to the "7"

next to Elizabeth's name.

The Pleasin' N*gger

of the chameleon type.

An expert in changing character

according to whatever was opportune

and what would titillate

and enthrall the other person.

And then Grace could see it.

Timothy's number

was not a "1", but a '7."

She had only wanted

to read it as a "1."

There was even a note

beside Timothy's name:

"Caution. Diabolically clever."

Grace had called a final meeting

for everybody at Manderlay,

for that evening, she had decided

to leave the place forever

with her father when he arrived.

Oh, you're all here.

I persuaded the community to assemble

extraordinarily...

for two ballots.

Whatever they involve, they can scarcely

have anything to do with me anymore.

Don't be too certain of that,

Miss Grace.

Well, I am certain.

I've come to say good-bye.

If you've had two ballots today,

oddly enough, that coincides with

the two presents I've brought.

Farewell presents, if you like.

The first... is this.

It's the money from our harvest.

Actually it's 80% of it.

A card shark

kept the other 20% as commission.

He scammed the money off somebody

from Manderlay in a game of cards.

So the gangsters didn't take it?

No. No, they didn't.

And I won't prolong the tension.

It was the treasurer who did it.

The man charged with

looking after the money.

He was overcome

by his eagerness to play.

Probably because

he isn't a Munsi at all...

...but a Mansi.

However unimportant

that may sound.

Which brings me

to my second present.

This one. Painful to you or not,

it has to come out.

In this book,

which I still regard as the most

abominable, contemptible document

ever written,

Timothy is listed

as a Pleasin' N*gger.

A person who can change

his appearance to please the beholder,

as he has done.

Let me find the page.

It's on page 104.

How do you know?

I thought no slave

had ever seen this book.

How do you know

what's on page 104 of Mam's Law?

'Cause I wrote it.

It's all in my meticulous hand.

Mam and I were very young

when the war suddenly ended

and this new statute terrified us.

Terrified you?

We tried to imagine what kind of

world would these slaves be let out into.

Were they ready for it?

Or more correctly...

Was it ready for them?

Legislators promised all kind of things,

but we didn't believe them.

It was then that Mam

urged me to commit to paper

the way I thought

things should be done here

if everyone stayed on

at Manderlay.

But it's the prolongation of slavery.

You might call it that.

You also might call it

the lesser of two evils.

But did the others know

that you wrote this book?

Groups 2, 3 and 5...

always knew.

A few members of the other groups

were better off not knowing.

But everyone knows now.

I wrote Mam's Law

for the good of everyone.

"For the good of everyone."

For the good of everyone?

How dare you?

It's a recipe for oppression...

...and humiliation

from start to finish.

I think you've been reading it

through the wrong spectacles,

Miss Grace, if I may

take the liberty of saying so.

And then, Wilhelm initiated Grace

into the humane qualities

of the lesser of two evils...

Mam's Law.

How it guaranteed

food and shelter

and allowed anybody the privilege

of complaining about their masters

instead of having to blame themselves

for the life of no hope

that they would surely

have to lead in the outside world.

How the noonday parade

was a blessing

since the parade ground

was the only place with shade

at the warmest time of day.

How the numbered groups

were determined

according to the patterns

of behavior

that human beings resort to in order

to survive in an oppressive community

so that life could be

made easier for each of them.

Since a Proudy N*gger,

not that Manderlay had seen

many, if any of these,

survives by perceiving himself

as proud and could be helped

by this system to believe

that he was a bit more persecuted

and punished than the others.

Since a Clowning N*gger

would benefit greatly from the laughter

that Mam's Law

strictly demanded of his master

just as any other groups

benefited from similar obligations.

How cash was forbidden,

so that gambling had to be done

with cotton money

to prevent ruination and misery

for the families.

Et cetera, et cetera.

Until Grace's head

felt fair ready to explode.

Damn it, Wilhelm,

they're not free!

That's what matters!

I'd call that

a philosophical argument,

which neatly brings me

to the two ballots I just mentioned.

Was Mam's Law still relevant?

We agreed that unfortunately it was

as relevant now as it ever was.

America was not ready

to welcome us Negroes as equals

seventy years ago,

and it still ain't.

And the way things are goin', it

won't be in 100 years from now.

So we agreed we'd like to take

one step backward at Manderlay...

...and re-impose the old law.

Excuse me, but I'm going.

As for your going, I'd better tell you

about the second of our ballots.

As you know,

sadly, we lost Mam,

and unfortunately we've good and

well frightened off her descendants.

In short, we lack a Mam.

- No!

- I needn't tell you

that you received every single vote.

Never.

With all your idealism,

I think you could enjoy

being the guardian for

a kind of menagerie of creatures

who have no chance in the wild.

Just as you thought the notion of

community would be good for us.

You were so sure, you permitted

yourself to use force to convince us.

I'd be sorry

if we had to do likewise.

What do you mean?

Do you intend to keep me prisoner?

Only until you understand

the way you wanted us to understand.

The gate has been repaired

and is closed.

The fences are in good shape,

but of course, they ain't particularly high.

Those fences... come on.

Two men with a rusty shotgun

and a toy pistol.

How dumb

do you really think we are?

Too dumb to build a ladder

if we really wants to get away?

Grace had spent a great deal

of time on this meeting

which, from her point of view,

didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

Her father and his car

would be at the gate at 8:00.

That was in half an hour.

She had no ladder,

and she was on her own

and guarded by many.

Just how was she

to get out of Manderlay?

When was a section

of the fence always down?

Grace would have to

change her tactics rapidly

if she was

to make the rendezvous.

All right.

I'll do as you want.

Not from my heart, though surely,

none of you could expect that,

but as my only option.

And you needn't be scared.

I'll obey your beloved law.

So we'd better start by dealing

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