 So a recurring idea in this book is the like the desire of this group of communists to have an oppressive enemy so that I guess to legitimize them. This is evident as soon as Mr. Verlach comes in to see Mr. Vladimir at the embassy. Mr. Vladimir is kind of the puppet master. Mr. Vladimir's secretary says, the utter absence of all repressive measures are a scandal to Europe. What is wished for just now is the accentuation of the rest of the fermentation which undoubtedly exists. So Mr. Vladimir, and there's also with all the characters there's sort of a tension between how they're introduced and how they behave. For example, the secretary comes in with Mr. Verlach and right in front of Mr. Verlach's face, Mr. Vladimir says the following. These are his first words, or almost first words. You are quite right, Montchère. He's fat, the animal. The next sentence. Mr. Vladimir, first secretary, had a drawing room reputation as an agreeable and entertaining man. He speaks French. He speaks Latin. He has all the habits of an aristocrat. He has an old-fashioned armchair and yet he's an avowed enemy of the capitalist system trying to tear it down. Perhaps that's not so unusual. Marx had undisputably aristocratic backgrounds as have many, as have all the Soviet defenders of labor. They were all from academia and bourgeois circles. So Mr. Verlach's taking all the criticism from Mr. Vladimir in stride until Mr. Vladimir threatens to stop paying him. Kind of funny, Marx advocated an end to all money. But as soon as he threatens to stop paying Mr. Verlach, the switch flips in his head and he felt a queer sensation of faintness in his stout legs. In the silence Mr. Verlach heard against the window pane the faint buzzing of a fly. His first fly of the year, heralding better than any number of swallows the approach of spring. The useless fussing of that tiny energetic organism affected unpleasantly this big man threatened in his indolence. In the pause Mr. Vladimir formulated in his mind a series of disparaging remarks concerning Mr. Verlach's face and figure. The fellow was unexpectedly vulgar, heavy and impudently unintelligent. He looked uncommonly like a master plumber come to present his bill. Is that a dig at unions? So here's Mr. Vladimir, he starts articulating his great vision. Your friends could set half the continent on fire without influencing the public opinion here in favor of a universal repressive legislation. Influencing the public opinion here in favor of a universal repressive legislation. The fetish of today is neither royalty nor religion therefore the palace and the church should be left alone. You understand what I mean Mr. Verlach? The sacrosanct fetish of today is science. This is what you should try for. An attempt upon a crowned head or a president is sensational enough in a way but not so much as it used to be. It's almost conventional especially since so many presidents have been assassinated. A bomb outrage ought to have any influence on public opinion. Must go beyond the intention of vengeance or terrorism. It must be purely destructive. It must be that and only that beyond the faintest suspicion of any other object. You anarchists should make it clear that you are perfectly determined to make a clean sweep of the whole social creation. And then he says moreover I am a civilized man. What do you think of having a go at astronomy? There could be nothing better such an outrage combines the greatest possible regard for humanity with the most alarming display of ferocious imbecility. I did not misread that. He says such an outrage combines the greatest possible regard for humanity with the most alarming display of ferocious imbecility. It's as if they're trying to blow up all of science. And you see that several times that this idea of doing something horrible, horrendous and then saying for the good of society are then saying and I'm a civilized man or I'm a sensitive person. It occurs over and over in this book. I think libertarians will get a kick out of his many digs. Joseph Conrad's many digs at municipal administration. And they're really small things but I found them so funny. For example, speaking about Mr. Verlox's semi-retarded brother-in-law. Under our excellent system of compulsory education, he had learned to read and write. Or there's a street on which or a square in which the houses have strange street addresses. Like they're a mixed match that the street doesn't reflect, the address doesn't reflect the street that they're on, for example. But the fact that this last house belonged to Port Hill Street, a street well known in the neighborhood, was proclaimed by an inscription placed above the ground floor windows by whatever highly efficient authority is charged with the duty of keeping track of London's stray houses. Why powers are not asked of parliament, a short act would do, for compelling these edifices to return to where they belong is one of the mysteries of municipal administration. Mr. Verlox did not trouble his head about it, his mission in life being the protection of the social mechanism, not its perfection or even its criticism. There's the useful, hard-working member of the embassy. Oh, and here's another one. Later in the book, a police commissioner for very complicated reasons involving his wife decides to try to keep one of the communists safe after a crime has been committed, a major crime. So it says, for the first time since he took up his appointment, the assistant commissioner felt as if he were going to do some real work for his salary, and that was a pleasurable sensation.