das
Regeneration In Process
Action Francaise! That name was one of the vaguest names in French political history. Even more so than many other political names, it hadn't much to do with what the party was all about - at a first glance. How much more right Maurras would have been had he named it "la Parti d'Integrale" or something of the kind - after all, the party was indeed the first and foremost of the Integralist parties in the world, and its ideology, again, at a first glance, was all about blood and soil, all about the organic society, the preservation of social hierarchy, the destruction of the bourgoise democracy and the restoration of the natural government form - feudal monarchy. And indeed, all that was true. And at the same time all that was irrelevant.
For in truth, no name could be better. The restless France that was awakened by the stern 1929 didn't really demand monarchy - or republic, or proletarian dictatorship, or anything. It was only one of the many paths for it to follow. The one thing the awakened nation did demand was this - Action!Restless, it demanded that something - anything! - be done, about all and any issues about which anything at all could be done. Restless, it craved only Action. And Action it received.
Martin Dorcel craved action. Ever since losing his job and reconsidering his life, he took to wandering aimlessly through the streets and between the various cheap bars, waiting for some sign. He was technically an atheist, but would've accepted a sign even from God. A sign, a signal, as long as did demanded action.
"...For us,
It's impossible to find,
With whom to split, with whom to bind,
Who's with us and whom to mind,
Where to go, where to unwind -- we can't tell!
Where's spirit?!
Where's honor?!
Where's guilt?!
Where are friends and where are strangers,
How did we neglect this danger,
Do we wish to cast this land to hell?!
And shame--
On all of those who value rest
On those, whose conscience is a pest,
Who cannot choose in all this mess
To kill!
A call!...
And like a bull during a fray,
Like a hawk -- after a prey,
Calling ravens all to stay
For the feast..."
The sign, the call, the ORDER to act came to Martin Dorcel as he somehow bumped into a sudden, huge crowd filling some minor square (Martin Dorcel didn't notice anything around him, as he fought his way through the crowd), listening to someone...
"...people of France, I confess my mistakes. And I shall not repeat them. I have come to you now, to call for you to rise up - for the regime that was born in violence shall die a violent death. Let France itself rise up, and overthrown the decadent republican regime. Let France be strong again! LET US ACT, AND BRING ABOUT A NEW AGE!"
It was Charles Maurras, as Martin Dorcel would later learn, having never heard of him before. Charles Maurras, the editor of the newspaper "Action Francaise" and leader of the eponymous party, was no orator, although he was a good poet; he only went to speak to the masses because he, too, was restless, even though already then his coup d'etat was being prepared and was safe, as his enemies in charge of France were too tired, too demoralized to act against it. But the words he said, the order to act - it aroused the people. And none moreso than Martin Dorcel, who had remembered these words that seeemed to thunder from above for the rest of his life. Which was why he had struggled through the crowd and demanded that Maurras lead them to victory, and a few hours later already joined the Action Francaise, specifically one of its "Noveau-Chouans" street brigades. A few days later, he once more saw the tricolour descend, but this time, the tears in his eyes were those of happiness. The tricolour was replaced not by the Reichskriegflagge, but by the Action Francaise emblem. This was victory. Action was taken. Action prevailed. And France had now trully awakened, awakened and set out to right all the wrongs.
To be continued.
For in truth, no name could be better. The restless France that was awakened by the stern 1929 didn't really demand monarchy - or republic, or proletarian dictatorship, or anything. It was only one of the many paths for it to follow. The one thing the awakened nation did demand was this - Action!Restless, it demanded that something - anything! - be done, about all and any issues about which anything at all could be done. Restless, it craved only Action. And Action it received.
Martin Dorcel craved action. Ever since losing his job and reconsidering his life, he took to wandering aimlessly through the streets and between the various cheap bars, waiting for some sign. He was technically an atheist, but would've accepted a sign even from God. A sign, a signal, as long as did demanded action.
"...For us,
It's impossible to find,
With whom to split, with whom to bind,
Who's with us and whom to mind,
Where to go, where to unwind -- we can't tell!
Where's spirit?!
Where's honor?!
Where's guilt?!
Where are friends and where are strangers,
How did we neglect this danger,
Do we wish to cast this land to hell?!
And shame--
On all of those who value rest
On those, whose conscience is a pest,
Who cannot choose in all this mess
To kill!
A call!...
And like a bull during a fray,
Like a hawk -- after a prey,
Calling ravens all to stay
For the feast..."
The sign, the call, the ORDER to act came to Martin Dorcel as he somehow bumped into a sudden, huge crowd filling some minor square (Martin Dorcel didn't notice anything around him, as he fought his way through the crowd), listening to someone...
"...people of France, I confess my mistakes. And I shall not repeat them. I have come to you now, to call for you to rise up - for the regime that was born in violence shall die a violent death. Let France itself rise up, and overthrown the decadent republican regime. Let France be strong again! LET US ACT, AND BRING ABOUT A NEW AGE!"
It was Charles Maurras, as Martin Dorcel would later learn, having never heard of him before. Charles Maurras, the editor of the newspaper "Action Francaise" and leader of the eponymous party, was no orator, although he was a good poet; he only went to speak to the masses because he, too, was restless, even though already then his coup d'etat was being prepared and was safe, as his enemies in charge of France were too tired, too demoralized to act against it. But the words he said, the order to act - it aroused the people. And none moreso than Martin Dorcel, who had remembered these words that seeemed to thunder from above for the rest of his life. Which was why he had struggled through the crowd and demanded that Maurras lead them to victory, and a few hours later already joined the Action Francaise, specifically one of its "Noveau-Chouans" street brigades. A few days later, he once more saw the tricolour descend, but this time, the tears in his eyes were those of happiness. The tricolour was replaced not by the Reichskriegflagge, but by the Action Francaise emblem. This was victory. Action was taken. Action prevailed. And France had now trully awakened, awakened and set out to right all the wrongs.

To be continued.