Other societies treat prostitution differently, especially those where it’s part of an ancient tradition.

The only thing I’m saying about prostitution in this story is this is how it is in this one little House.  It’s in the middle of nowhere, but has had a history of serving a good class of customer, who may travel some distance to visit it.

I don’t know how long it’s been there.  Long enough to have a European clientèle.  Possibly it’s a movable feast — the girls follow their madam. There’s probably the normal coercion between an employer and employees, if nothing more than economic opportunity and the paycheck. The girls make the best of it in this moment in time.

No excuses for any of this; it’s just part of the story.  Draw your own conclusions.

Arnold, there, doesn’t even know what tribe he’s from.  Mama was German, Papa was First Nations living in Chicago.  He was a tile-setter.  Arnold — how he got into the German army is complicated, and is in Bread and Swans — can’t resist supporting his comrades in their awe-struck belief in the Noble Savage.