Human to human.
-Your human relationships,-said Anosov.-are so complicated, painful and mysterious, that sometimes it happens to me: is solitude not a real, available at the moment, happiness.
Before this we were talking about a notorious at that time Makarov’s case, a man, who shot his wife out of jealousy. Condemning Makarov, I said that human relations are very simple and one, who realized this simplicity and clearness, will never be a violator.
We were drivinig from Tver to Nigniy, our acquaintance was random, we just met each other near a station’s canteen. I was waiting Amosov to say something else. His appearance truly deserves to be described: a long broad and thick beard, a high forehead, dark big eyes, slender figure, and eternal half-smile which expressed a tense attention towards an interlocutor. He gave an impression of an extraordinary man, or, how they say in periphery, “intrigued” people. He must have been over 50-55, though looked younger due to vivacity of communication and absence of gray hair.
-Yes,-carried on Amosov by his slowly, low voice, looking at the window and stroking his beard with a big white hand covered with rings,-to live with people, at people, run in a common harness… Not everyone can do it. To endure overwhelming mass of others’ interests, worries, ideas, whims, caprices, permanent lie, envy, false kindness, meanness, ostentatious nobility or, what’s even worse, smug nobility, undergo random and groundless dislike, in other words-‘instinctive antipathy”-you should have an extraordinary resilience. A stream of others’ wills tends to subjugate, humiliate and enslave human beings. Well, it’s not that bad, if this is a man with shut inward eyes as blind as statue, he’ll be staying on that small pedestal, life presented him, unflinching and steadfast. It’s also useful to be a pagan or, in pursuit of a life-time goal, put it between people and yourself. It conserves soul. But there are people of such a deep penetration into senselessness of actions being made around them, I’d say antihuman actions, even the most insignificant of them, people of such acute, painful feeling of life’s atrocity, that they should be preserved, these people. It’s not easy to find and understand one. Most of them perish or become hardened or go away.
-Yes, this is a law of life,-I said.- and destiny of weak people.
-Weak? Not at all!-objected Amosov.-A really weak man whines and complains, because his claws are not strong enough. Otherwise, he would have already taken part in a common scuffle, because he sees life by other people’s eyes. Those I’m talking about are people who were born too early. Human relations are a source of incessant suffering for them and awareness if the fact that evil-however strange it is- is a natural phenomenon, strengthens suffering up to outrageous degree. Maybe, thousand years later, when inventions have touched spiritual sphere and people will be able to hear, see and feel only what they should, not that a first stranger wants them to know using a power of suggestion or action, life will be easier for such people, because they have already long since decided that personality and soul of human are impenetrable for evil.
I was arguing for a while, proving that evil is a relative notion as well as good, but deep inside I agreed with Anosov, not in everything, i.e., though there were no such people at all.
He listened to me attentively and said:
-It’s not the point. Human of evil will always say that ‘good’ is a relative notion, but suffering man will never say the same about evil. You and I are using now very primitive and vague ideas; it’s not bad, because we are helped by association and can see plenty of conceptions over two short words. But let’s go back to our specific people. Everybody contains at least a particle of them. Isn’t it a reason, that such works like Robinson Crusoe are very popular and this is a great success, very pure success,-works in which idea of sad, beautiful freedom, getting away from evil of humanity is merged (ñëèòà) with a special tension of mental and physical strengths of human? If you remember, Friday’s appearance weakens one’s interest to the story; a special charm of Robinzon’s living grows pale because of a reason that he is no longer Robinson, but Robinson-Friday.. What can you say about life of congested countries, where you have to deal with the fact that you are not only you yourself, but also everyone you come across with-who can draw all your attention by an appaling power of a random move-mock, shrugging of shoulders, gesture of hand, while you’d rather look in an opposite direction. This is a shoddy example, but I’m telling you about social events. People live in this unbelievable dependence on each other and if they quite realized that, their words, speeches, gestures, actions etc. would change without a doubt. They’d become reasonable and solicitous (áåðåæíûé); actions of a thinking human being.
Recently I have read a story about two adolescents in a one weekly journal. A young couple-brother and sister spent a whole summer together on a small island, in meadows; the girl fulfilled hostess’ duties and the boy provided her with food he got by help of rifle and fishing-rod; there were no people except them on the island. An interviewer, who visited them, must have made tremendous efforts not to show his smile when they were telling him that everything’s all right and they’re absolutely happy. Of course, they were children of rich parents. But I seem just like they were shown on the photo: staying together, holding each other’s hands, screwing up their eyes. I like this photograph because of my perception of desirable in human relations.
He rocked to me, like if he was asking my opinion.
-I wonder,-I said.-if there is any other kind of defense except island and cloister?
-Yes,-said Anosov without a second thinking.-but you can meet people, who are fully aware of their human dignity, peaceful, but uncompromising, strong, but far from primitive forms of life, than you meet a thunderstorm in spring. I gave their exact attributes; they don’t stop communicating with people, not even considering a possibility of turning right cheek for a hit, but shadow of sadness, which had a grip on Robinson’s heart in his brightest, most shining and sunniest days on the island, is always with them and they are always in the shadow. “When Muslims, taken Constantinople, were cutting slaughtering people under Ajya-Sofia vault, as a legend says-a priest came up to the wall and bricks, parted by some mysterious power, hid him from a view of a carnage. He’ll come out when a mosque has become a cathedral again. This is a legend, but it’s not a fairy-tale that once a day of people in the shadow will come and they will come out to the bright light and nobody will insult them.
I plunged myself deep into thoughts and saw a sad Robinson on the sea shore in a silence of meditation.
Anosov said:
-I’d like to tell you about something else. You might not interested in such a theme?
-No-I answered.-what can be more amazing, than human’s soul?
-In 1911 I happened to have met a one special man. I was staying on the Troysky bridge. Before that I had had to sit half a night with other homeless people. I was nodding at the bridge’s bench, lowering my head and having put my hands between my knees.
Dreaming, I saw all temptations the world is rich with and my mouth, full of hungry saliva, woke me up. I awoke, got up, made up my mind and, without pretension, cried. In any case I loved life, but it was pushing me away with its both hands.
There was sinister next to the railing like on an empty scaffold. Summer night, many-coloured of lanterns and stars, surrounded me by cold silence of indifference. I looked down and timbled, but, to my greatest surprise, fell back onto the pavement, and then a strong hand, grasping my shoulder to pain, helped me to get to my feet and loosened its grip, shaking its finger.
Stunned, I was quietly looking at that finger and only then dared to look at a man who was between me and the river. It was a tired, calm man in a dark clothes, hat, bearded and thick.
-Wait for a while,-he said.-I want to talk to you. Disappointed?
-No.
-Hungry?
-Yes, very hungry.
-How long?
-Yes… two days.
-Come with me.
It was obvious to give in my situation. He came down to the embankment and cried for a cabman. We got into carriage and started driving, I only wanted to tell him my name and explain my situation, but suddenly heard his quiet, even, pectoral laughter. My companion was laughing joyfully, from all his heart like adults do at child’s prank.
-Don’t be surprised,-he said, having stopped laughing.-It’s funny for me that you and many other people will hunger when there is so much food and money in the world.
-Yes, in the world, but not with me.
-Take it.
-I can’t find a job.
-Ask for.
-To beg?
-Oh, what a rubbish! Alms is the same word as other ones. While you aren’t working-go begging-quietly, reasonably and weightily, not despising yourself. There are two sides in this deal-one who gives and one who asks, and good will of the one who gives is always with him-he decides whether to give or not; it’s just a transaction and that’s it.
-To beg!-repeated I bitterly.-But you know how lonely, obtuse, ruthless and evil people are towards each other.
-Of course.
-What are you talking about then?
-Never mind.
The cabman stopped. Having gone through the yard, we went up to the forth floor and my overlord pressed bell’s button. I found myself in a small, cosy, rather simple apartment. We were met by a woman and a dog. The woman was as calm as her husband who brought me here. Her face and figure were plain, similar to all healthy, young and pretty women; I’m telling you about impression. A tranquil diver, a tranquil woman and a tranquil host of the flat seemed very happy creatures and so it was.
Calmly, like a well-known guest, I sat with them at the table (the dog was sitting here, on the flor) and ate, and, having got up, satisfied, heard how my saviour explains life.
-Man needs to know, Mister Suicider, that nobody cares for him, but his beloved one and faithful friend. Take both. You won’t find a better friend, than a dog. Women-you won’t find anyone better, that a beloved woman. And here we go, three of us as a whole. Think that from all the world’s pleasure you can take so much and so little at the same time in other people’s eyes. Let others do what they want to, neither you, nor they need each other. It’s not egotism, but self-respect. I have only one favourite poet, one favourite painter and one favourite musician in the whole world and each of these people has one very best work for me: the second waltz of Gadar; “To Ann” by Edgar Paw and a portrait of Rembrandt’s wife. It’s enough for me; no one will change the best for the worst. Now tell me, where’s life’s terror? It exists, but it doesn’t touch me. I’m sheltered by armour which is more unconquerable, than slabs of armadillo. To get this I need so much that everyone can get-just to keep silence. And then nobody will insult you, because evil is powerless before your wealth. I live on 100 roubles a month.
-Egotism or not,-I said.-but one has to come to that.
-Necessary. It’s so easy to get lost in unbounded evil of the world, and nothing will be able to save you then. Take 10 roubles, it’s all I can give you.
And I saw that he really couldn’t give more, and I took the money, plainly, calmly as it had been offered. I went away with a belief in a power to face hostile life with silence and tranquility.