At noon on March 4, Roosevelt officially took the oath of office.
His appearance was commanding. He repeated the oath after the Chief Justice of the United States, took out a Bible passed down through his family for three hundred years and read from a page, then opened his prepared notes and told the crowd, ‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.’ He also asked Congress for broad executive powers, or in other words, the powers of a wartime president.
By then the banking system had already collapsed. Since the beginning of the Great Depression, more than 5,500 banks nationwide had failed. On February 14, Michigan had shut all its banks for eight days; on February 26, Ohio limited depositors’ withdrawals to five percent; on March 1, seventeen states declared bank ‘holidays’; by March 3, several of the nation’s most important banks were close to failure. And on March 4, even New York, the financial center, capitulated as its governor ordered banks closed.
After taking office, Roosevelt revived a law from the First World War to give the banks a four-day holiday. Then, on March 9, he signed the Emergency Banking Act, drawn up by the new treasury secretary, formerly a railroad-equipment manufacturer. The law prohibited hoarding, required people who had withdrawn gold after February 1 to return it, banned gold exports, required banks to appoint receivers in bankruptcy, permitted limits on deposit withdrawals… and provided for the issuance of two billion dollars in new banknotes.
The Bureau of Engraving and Printing kept its lights burning for two full nights. Early on Saturday, aircraft loaded with freshly printed currency took off from Washington to deliver great quantities of cash to the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.
The act was powerful medicine. Within a single week banks were reopening one after another, and the American stock market surged by fifteen percent.
Next, the National Industrial Recovery Act was placed on the agenda, public-works programs were explicitly proposed, and work began on creating the Agricultural Adjustment Administration, establishing the Civilian Conservation Corps, insuring bank deposits and extending new home loans, among many other measures.
Elio’s Notes: The narrative compresses Roosevelt’s first months into one summary. The National Industrial Recovery Act became law on June 16, 1933; the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation was also established by legislation signed that day, with insurance commencing January 1, 1934. These were not all operative at the time of the March inauguration. Sources: U.S. National Archives, NIRA; FDIC historical timeline.
Americans were always optimistic, accustomed to raising their arms and rallying morale. Once again they felt hopeful about their government and the future. Roosevelt received more than five thousand, sometimes as many as eight thousand, letters each week.
That March, Qin Siyu went to hear a distinguished professor lecture on the economic impact of Roosevelt’s legislation.
The professor was famous, and Roosevelt immensely popular. Qin Siyu had been delayed by various things before leaving home, and by the time he reached the classroom, every one of the several hundred chairs was occupied. He looked around. Only the broad windowsill at the back of the room, to one side, offered anywhere to sit.
Qin Siyu went over.
The sill and window frame were both wide, and the window was raised. He sat facing the lectern with his back against the wall beside the window frame, the window to his right. One foot rested on the sill, the other on the floor. Early-spring sunshine streamed in beside him and fell across his shirt.
Across the aisle, Aston sat on the outside and shifted his gaze toward Qin Siyu.
Qin Siyu sensed it too. He turned and met Aston’s eyes, giving him a polite smile.
Aston inclined his head slightly in return.
Some time had passed since their previous parting.
It had been very late that night. Qin Siyu had shown restraint and not entered Aston’s house, so Aston had asked the gatekeeper to call another driver to take him back to the university.
After the greeting, Qin Siyu turned back and leafed through the notebook on his knee, apparently reviewing material from earlier lectures.
Aston continued watching him out of the corner of his eye.
Because of the way Qin Siyu was sitting, his trouser leg had ridden up, exposing his ankle.
The exposed skin was fair, though not the same shade as a white person’s. It resembled milk.
The professor had already stepped up to the lectern and was about to begin, but Aston was still looking.
Because of the position he was sitting in, the fabric stretched taut across Qin Siyu’s thighs, clearly outlining their shape. His legs were not skinny but healthy and full, with pleasing proportions; the curve beneath them and the shape of his hips were visible through his trousers.
The lower legs of his trousers were a little loose and rumpled, the crease lifting away from his shin. The exposed skin at his ankle was fair, delicate and smooth. Somehow, the space inside the cuff suggested that a hand could slip in by his ankle, follow his shin up toward his knee, and go no farther once the fingertips had just reached his thigh. The hand could only scratch at the little hollow above his knee, urgently and firmly, the kneecap fitting into its palm. No farther than that.
Aston was startled by his own thoughts. He looked away toward the lectern and discovered that the professor had already begun writing on the board and lecturing.
‘A few days ago,’ the professor said, ‘President Roosevelt asked Congress to approve his Agricultural Adjustment Act and Federal Emergency Relief Act. Obviously the Agricultural Adjustment Act is aimed at the farmers’ uprising in Iowa. Let me explain the most important measures…’
He went through them one by one. ‘Roosevelt wants to raise agricultural prices by reducing production. He believes the most important thing for farmers is to stabilize prices or even push them up. To stop agricultural prices from falling, perhaps restore them to their former levels, output must be reduced. Roosevelt sees falling prices, followed by increased production to make up lost revenue, followed by still lower prices, as a vicious cycle.’
A commotion swept through the classroom.
Kill piglets, pour away milk, cut down crops before they matured? It seemed to fly in the face of common sense!
‘As for relief, we all know how controversial it is,’ the professor continued. ‘Hoover believed that federal relief would utterly destroy and paralyze the national workforce. Like unemployment benefits in Britain, it would remove the incentive to seek employment and bring serious consequences—’
Aston realized he couldn’t concentrate.
He kept noticing Qin Siyu.
A windowsill wasn’t meant to be a seat, after all. The lecture had been going on for quite some time, and the wall behind Qin Siyu was straight and hard. Perhaps uncomfortable, he lifted his waist and stretched.
He wore a white shirt. When he straightened, the fabric drew tight, outlining the muscles of his chest below his collarbones. A tiny point pressed against the cloth, faintly showing pink.
Aston noticed that small point beneath the shirt and paused, his gaze fixed for an instant. But Qin Siyu immediately leaned back against the wall, and that faint trace of pink beneath the white fabric disappeared.
California sunshine shone fiercely and brilliantly into the classroom. Qin Siyu sat by the window, the light outlining his black hair in gold.
It created an extraordinary effect. Pale hair would not do the same; the contrast had to be strong. Sometimes a gust lifted his short black hair and every strand gleamed.
His nose had a fine high bridge, shaped differently from those of Westerners, not quite as tall, its features especially well suited to the play of sunlight. His lashes were long, and his eyes less deeply set than Western eyes, so sunlight could pour fully into his pupils, making them shine like obsidian. His lips were full, with a small curve at the center of the upper lip when slightly parted.
Even his ears could move. Once, while he was taking notes, a lock of hair slipped down and brushed his ear, and it twitched gently.
Sometimes Qin Siyu rested his head against the wall too, tipping his neck up slightly, and Aston’s gaze traveled along his Adam’s apple.
Now and then a breeze blew through, twice with some force. For a moment his shirt billowed, and the afternoon sunshine showed the outline of his chest through the fabric. Aston thought he might have glimpsed that little point again, though he wasn’t sure.
The professor continued discussing Roosevelt. ‘But America is an industrial country, with several industries now in danger. Addressing industry ought to be central to the New Deal, and Roosevelt will naturally try to encourage it. First, he intends to establish federal agencies such as a Public Works Administration to lead private firms through difficult demonstration projects, building bridges and digging tunnels. Hoover opposed what he saw as the government’s wasteful attempts to increase industrial output. Second, Roosevelt believes consumption must rise. He plans to establish a minimum wage and standard working hours, improving workers’ conditions while encouraging firms to hire more people. But in practice, just like his effort to quell unrest among farmers, this is also intended to contain the labor movement.’
Aston was still looking at Qin Siyu.
Qin Siyu rested his notebook on his knee, occasionally pressing it against his thigh to jot something down.
Sometimes the wind lifted the pages. Qin Siyu would shift his fingers and press them flat. He held his pen between two fingers, spread the others slightly and laid his hand over the notebook as its pages fluttered. His fingers were long and slender, and the joints at his wrist stood out clearly.
With the pen between his fingers, the joint of his index finger lifted, and two tendons connecting the base of his thumb and wrist stood taut. The arrangement was remarkably graceful.
He seemed to write with real pressure, his knuckles pronounced and his nails paling slightly. Scratch, scratch, scratch. He looked so earnest and attentive that it seemed being one of the words beneath his pen must be a happy thing.
Aston wondered, with an impassive face, whether Qin Siyu had been just as attentive that day when writing the name Kingsley.
He remembered the fluid, lovely words To Kingsley.
Sometimes, halfway through the lecture, Qin Siyu’s attention wandered too.
If a small bird landed outside the window and hopped about, he’d watch it.
Once, a bird looked into the room. Qin Siyu leaned forward and placed the blunt end of his pen against the glass. Slowly, carefully, he traced a circle. The foolish little bird watched the pen, its fluffy head following the circle.
Eventually the hard wall seemed too uncomfortable, and Qin Siyu sagged a little. He pulled both feet onto the sill and lowered his waist, half reclining there as the fabric across his chest and stomach rose and fell with his breathing.
His belt was very old, with a badly worn buckle that looked ready to give out. As the buckle rose and fell with his breathing, it caught Aston’s attention.
Aston’s gaze rested on the metal buckle for a very long time.
The belt was terribly worn. The leather at the buckle, bent so often, was damaged and no longer lay flat but curved outward. A fingertip slipped underneath could probably lift it free with the slightest flick.
His lower back formed a natural curve. As he sat, the belt pulled against the back of his trousers, leaving a small triangular gap where the white shirt beneath could be seen.
The jut of the hipbone beneath the side of his waist lifted the belt slightly, creating a shallow hollow where a fingertip might rest.
Only when a few petals floated in and landed on his shoulders and chest did Qin Siyu sit up again. He picked each petal off, stacked them neatly and set them carefully aside.
The professor resumed. ‘Roosevelt may well be the most iron-fisted president since Lincoln. Let’s examine why.’
The lecture had started at one in the afternoon. By half past two it was already very hot. Qin Siyu unfastened a button on his white shirt while continuing to listen and take notes.
The fabric of his collar gathered beside his neck, partly revealing its pale, slender line.
The California sun was still fierce. When he wasn’t writing, Qin Siyu sometimes shut his notebook, leaned his head against the wall and used the notebook as a fan.
He held the notebook beside his neck, the light breeze passing over slightly damp skin where a few black strands of hair had stuck.
Eventually his neck was quite sweaty. Qin Siyu reached into his trouser pocket for a handkerchief, lifted his chin and wiped away the perspiration. A few strands of hair shifted. Then he wiped the hollow at the base of his neck.
With the handkerchief in his right hand, he wiped the hollow on the left side of his neck.
That hollow was deep. The handkerchief slipped into it and came out again.
Aston watched quietly, thinking that the hollow at the base of Qin Siyu’s neck looked just right for…
Without changing his expression, Aston thought: the tip of a tongue.
He wiped the hollow, the side of his neck and then the nape. Qin Siyu lowered his head and stretched his neck to reach behind. A few strands sprang up; he smoothed them down, then put the handkerchief aside.
The vertebra at the back of his neck protruded slightly.
His back seemed to have grown a little damp as well. Qin Siyu wanted to wipe it, but couldn’t reach. He drew away from the wall, tugged the back of his shirt outward with one hand, and straightened his chest a few times. Aston once again caught a fleeting glimpse of that faint pink.
Aston pulled his eyes away and resumed his notes: 【Roosevelt is very likely to recognize the Soviet Union.】
* * *
The students were so enthusiastic and had so many questions that the lecture dragged on until four o’clock, ending only with difficulty.
Qin Siyu jumped down from the windowsill and naturally walked out of the building with Aston.
Strangely, no one dared crowd Aston, or perhaps no one wanted to. A comfortable pocket of space seemed to open automatically around them.
As they stepped outside, the weather had changed in a curious way. Moments ago it had been sunny; now the sky was overcast.
‘Is it going to rain even in April this year?’ Qin Siyu asked. ‘That’s strange.’ California was famous for its sunshine, after all.
Aston glanced at the sky. ‘Perhaps.’
Qin Siyu asked, ‘What did you think of that lecture?’
‘Me?’ Aston thought for a moment and answered in his usual precise, elegant English. ‘Hoover may not have been quite so bad, and Roosevelt may not be quite so good.’
‘I had a similar feeling,’ Qin Siyu said. ‘But I’m not studying economics or politics. May I ask why? I’d like your opinion.’
‘Hoover actually predicted that the economy would enter a downturn,’ Aston said. ‘He criticized some of his predecessor Coolidge’s policies too. But his beliefs were traditional: government shouldn’t interfere in the free economy or free markets. He prized confidence, perseverance and hard work. In different circumstances he might not have become a universal target of public scorn. He might even have been a good president.’
Thinking it over, Qin Siyu felt that was probably true. Hoover himself was resolute, cut salaries and worked eighteen hours a day, but he remained convinced that citizens’ ‘unyielding perseverance’ could solve every problem. He was petty and stubborn, considered all his critics unpatriotic, and refused to abandon the White House’s luxurious lifestyle, insisting that ‘economizing’ would make the government appear to lack confidence.
Aston continued, ‘Roosevelt has keen political instincts. He understands that this Depression calls for change, and he was the only presidential candidate to campaign on reform. But the truth is, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do specifically. No one was. For much of the campaign his proposals were vague. He hoped to win the election through personal charm and only reluctantly offered detailed measures at the end. His greatest strength is said to be his ability to experiment quickly, recognize and correct mistakes, and accept failure. He acts fast… I hope that’s true.’
‘And then?’ Qin Siyu asked.
‘Then, I think—’ Aston paused. ‘Although his policies are having visible effects and economic indicators are improving, they’re emergency measures. This is only the New Deal’s honeymoon period. The underlying problems haven’t really been resolved. Everything has changed too quickly since the war, and Americans’ overall consumption hasn’t kept pace with technological development. Perhaps, after this burst of excitement, the economy will fall into recession again.’
‘…Ah,’ Qin Siyu said.
‘I’ve had that feeling too.’
‘And in fact—’ Aston gazed toward the sea, a faint unease entering his voice. ‘America is dragging the entire world down with it. Europe’s economy has already collapsed, especially Germany’s.’
The Great Depression had spread to Europe before the continent had recovered from the war. Germany had previously relied on American loans to pay its reparations. After the Depression, America stopped extending those loans, and Germany could no longer fulfill the Treaty of Versailles. Hoover had also sharply raised tariffs to protect American industry, prompting retaliation across Europe and a collapse in international trade. Germany’s economy sank into darkness.
Although the Hoover Moratorium of 1931 and the Lausanne Conference of 1932 had effectively ended further German reparations payments, it was already too late.
Qin Siyu considered this and asked cautiously, ‘Do you mean… what’s happened in Germany these past few months?’
‘Exactly.’ Aston looked at him with surprise and approval. ‘Hindenburg defeated Hitler in last year’s presidential election. But in January, under pressure, he appointed Hitler chancellor. Americans have no interest in either of them. Hardly anyone paid attention. Yet last month, using the Reichstag fire, the Nazis suppressed other parties, arrested their opponents and forced parliament to grant them legislative authority—’
Qin Siyu didn’t study economics or politics, and he didn’t move among the powerful, but he was exceptionally intelligent.
He knew about these things.
Many people supported Hitler. Others disagreed with his beliefs but had no idea whom they should support instead. Because he projected such confidence, they went along with him. Within two months of his appointment as chancellor, the Nazi Party had seized overwhelming power.
Qin Siyu hadn’t analyzed the situation quite so deeply. His greater concern was what was happening in China.
Last month, the Battle of Rehe had broken out. Rehe fell in just over ten days, all four provinces of the northeast were lost, and Japan gained a route toward North China.
‘The Germans want revenge on the whole world,’ Aston continued. ‘They’ve always believed that the responsibility for that war wasn’t theirs alone, yet they were made to bear it alone. They see the Treaty of Versailles as an oversimplification of the war’s causes and an instrument of politics.’
Qin Siyu thought before saying carefully, ‘The United States did oppose treating Germany too harshly.’ After all, even in defeat, Germany remained one of Europe’s most developed and populous nations and could not be underestimated.
‘Yes,’ Aston replied, ‘but Britain and France couldn’t withstand any more. They’d been wrung dry, barely able to breathe, while still owing America astronomical debts. At their insistence, America signed too.’
‘I think,’ Aston said, returning at last to Roosevelt, ‘that Roosevelt’s rescue measures will continue shifting the pressure elsewhere. He’ll abandon the gold standard and do everything possible to devalue the dollar and increase exports, which will worsen Europe’s economic conditions.’
Qin Siyu listened quietly.
‘And Germany has already descended into madness.’ Dark clouds rolled across the horizon. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and even the wind carried a faint, briny tang. ‘I have a feeling… war will descend upon the world again,’ Aston said.