The Young Karl Marx Page #5

by questing for a more humane society.

Two clays! That's all I'm asking...

It's always two days.

- You're tiring madam!

It'll be the bailiffs then!

- Get out!

Be gone!

- What is it?

We want our money.

They'll bleed us dry!

Excuse me.

Here.

Is that right?

Have a good day.

Off you go now.

By what miracle?

Where were you?

- The post office.

You've found work?

- A money order, from Friedrich.

And fresh news?

- Live even!

Jenny.

Lenchen.

I have to tell you...

This isn't easy to say.

You know Friedrich met

the League of the Just in London.

Yes. And?

- You know Weitling.

The visionary tailor.

Don't make fun, Jenny.

He's a leader.

He helped found the League

and make it stronger.

I know that.

- They believe in something.

What they lack are sound ideas.

That you can provide?

And what does Friedrich say?

He asks me to join him in London.

To meet the League members.

I see.

And I look after the children

with Lenchen.

That's all right.

Herr Engels' money will tide us over.

No.

Friedrich can manage without me.

I'll stay.

- Come on, sit down.

You're mad.

It's a unique opportunity.

And you'd miss it?

It seems to be a powerful movement,

with branches in Switzerland,

Germany, so...

If you can get elected

as the League's delegate,

you won't be alone.

Together, you can raise an army.

It can grow

and become invincible over time.

You have to go.

The League of the Just...

You big fool.

Lenchen? Are you coming?

Oh, Weitling the tailor!

London, February 1846

Over there.

Come on!

There she is.

Quick! You're late.

My friend, Karl. My wife, Mary.

Your... wife?

You are such a great man to Frederic,

I imagined you'd be bigger.

I'm only a man.

But I didn't expect...

Oh, no, you can skip the compliments.

Come on, this way.

Let's go.

Wait, don't think it's in the bag yet.

They're a tough bunch of men.

They've been beaten up a lot.

They trust no one.

- They read it?

That too. Be careful

with your "critical" thingamajigs.

They don't go for it.

Promising...

Here are the men.

Frederic, you've seen him before.

And this is Karl.

Karl Marx.

Sit down.

For the League's purposes,

there are two kinds of men.

Men who've been hardened

and forged by manual labour,

and men who profit from the fruits

of that labour, the bourgeoisie.

By the look at you lads,

you're not in the first group.

I described in my book...

- From the outside!

Not from experience!

- Have you experienced poverty,

prison, persecution?

- Excuse me, but if

you rule us out before we've said a word,

what's the point of your motto,

"All men are brothers"?

- It's an ideal. Our ideal.

It's what we're fighting for.

- It's our new Jerusalem

God, what are we doing here?

The League needs real men, not eggheads

trying to tell it what to do and think.

Yes, but you want to spread your ideas,

don't you?

So test us. And throw us out

if you think we are not useful.

Did someone say "useful"?

Marx?

I knew

you'd been expelled from France too.

Here you are.

I'm in Brussels for now.

- Brussels...

I'm giving talks there this autumn.

A step on this long road

leading to our one goal:

the abolition of money.

Let me look at you.

You're thinner.

You've suffered.

Me too.

I was shackled and beaten.

Look what they did to me.

But they couldn't break my soul.

Weitling! This isn't one of your rallies.

Sit down.

So. How can you be of use to us?

Weitling has followers in

France and Switzerland,

you have branches in Germany and England.

With us, you will have

a bridgehead in Brussels...

Weitling's going there.

- I'm talking about a permanent link.

About a web connection

all the way down to Paris, even Lyon.

Why Lyon?

- Because of Proudhon.

Proudhon. You know Proudhon?

Yes, I know him personally.

We are very close.

We met each other regularly

until he was deported.

And we respect each other deeply.

We're almost like you say in England...

hand in glove.

Hand in glove?

Hand in glove.

- Yes, hand in glove.

Come on!

Naming Proudhon was daring.

You turned your pawn into a queen.

Sorry, sir, but the lady is not...

- I know women aren't allowed in here,

but if my wife catches a cold outside...

- Sir.

I will kick up such a fuss

that you'll

never work anywhere, ever again.

Don't, Frederic.

I don't belong here.

Let's go somewhere else.

A pub will do for comparing notes. Come.

Well, it's young Engels!

- Oh, Mr. Naylor.

How do you do?

I often ask my good friend Engels

how young Friedrich's doing these days.

How is your father?

- As well as he can be.

Please let me introduce my wife Mary.

How do you do?

- And my good friend Marx.

Nice to meet you.

- Mr. Naylor owns foundries in Leeds.

He employs many workers, even children.

A harsh necessity.

Marx is a journalist. He's researching

a topic we're interested in...

About child labour in factories.

How many work in yours?

It's about twenty children to thirty men.

Day or night work?

- Both.

Isn't that exhausting?

Working at night has no effect on health.

- Your health.

I beg your pardon?

- My wife means

it makes no difference to your health.

But to the children's...

We have no choice.

You know without child labour

we'd price ourselves out of the market.

- Meaning you'd have to pay fair wages?

The market sets the prices, young man.

- Of course.

If I stopped hiring children,

others would.

I'd go bankrupt.

That's what society does.

No, sir. This is how existing

relations of production work.

Not society. Society is not you.

I don't know what you mean

by "relations of production".

It all sounds Hebrew to me.

Thank you, James.

If labour costs more,

there'd be no more profits.

Therefore no more economy,

therefore no more society.

Perhaps that's what you want, eh?

You're so right, we are not speaking

the same language.

What you call profit,

I call exploitation.

Mr. Engels, I've been very patient

in token of my friendship for your father

Ancl where would a society with no

exploitation leave people like you?

You'd have to work too.

Wouldn't that be horrible?

My regards to your father.

My old man's going to kill me this time.

Brussels, March 30th, 1846

We're happy to welcome

eminent representatives

of the workers' movement.

You, Pavel Annenkov, welcome.

You, Hermann Kriege.

And, last but not least,

our great and clear Weitling.

Enough!

You know why we're here.

We're going to agree

on a simple common doctrine

for the workers

who have no time to study.

That won't be an easy thing to do.

It engages us fraternally.

- How fraternal of you!

Griin, be constructive.

- Certainly. I wouldn't be here otherwise.

Unless you're here for something else.

Pardon me?

- You never know.

Karl!

I like this idea of simplicity.

What unites us, my young companions,

is simple.

The people's happiness.

- Their happiness?

That's all you can come up with

to justify your activities?

Pardon me?

Love, happiness,

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