The misanthrope chapter II Will begin with the childhood. Whether I was a good son? I do not think. Was not. However, the phrase “the good son“ some “bad“, dribbling, all the same that “mother`s darling“. I was never the domestic, street urchin, such uncontrollable madcap dragging neighbour`s apples and ineptly popykhyvayushchy the first cigarette in a malshichesky toilet of school, and rather intravertny low-sociable homebody, a bookworm spending all the free time behind reading too “adult“ books with which it was much more interesting to me, than in the company of the coolest boys. Since young years I with an unusual force was attracted to himself Emil Zola with the “Trap“ and “Zherminalyyu“, by Theodor Dreiser with “Sister Carrey“, “Financier“ and “Stoik“, Honore de Balzac with his “Lost dreams“ and “The human comedy“, Anton Chekhov, Nikolay Gogol, and also Marina Tsvetaeva, Alexander Blok, Sergey Yesenin and Vladimir Vysotsky. They and their heroes were my best friends. From here also all my future misfortunes developed: the loneliness early learned, bringing to suicide thoughts, understanding, “unclear“ for the others, about things quite clear, as love, friendship, life and death.
In twelve years, believing that my best friend of Pasch Pulin, the firm excellent student and the great inventor, forever leaves our military camp, I constantly entered all events of day of farewell in the diary - and hot pancakes with condensed milk with which we were fed by his mother, and an old horizontal bar at his house on which we made “an exit by force“ and “rise with revolution“, and many other things. And all next day I carried out, sglatyvy an opposite lump in a throat and brushing away treacherous tears from eyes, red from sleeplessness, - my best friend was so dear to me. Events of those days as the multiplication table, I still remember by heart.
Pasha Pulin, however, did not leave anywhere, and returned after summer vacation at relatives near Pyatigorsk back. I moved. To the city. Process was a little dragged out, besides coincided with an illness, and I appeared at school only two weeks later to see that my friend Pasha got the new friend, and I occupy not the habitual first, but honourable second place in life of my best friend now. Already in fifteen I knew
well that the friendship on light does not exist. There is anything, what it is accepted to call “friendship“: joint visits of cinema and group “ha - ha“, the general games and mischief, “Pepsi“ and “Snickerses“ by sharing the cost, or baked potato at a summer fire and half or completely invented tales, it seems “as I overslept with the teacher of history“, a little later beer from a three-liter cylinder for three, even threes as a loan. Well, there are many types of friendship, the most various forms and paints, except that which it is possible to call just “friendship“.
Ya understood that there is a lot of so-called friends at those at whom this concept of friendship is simpler, more primitive. And, in general, there is a lot of all at those at whom it is simpler outlooks on life. The same who as I, imposed the overestimated requirements to friendship, it seems “that never betrayed and were near in the most difficult moments“, could count friends, at best, by means of index a finger of the left hand.
At the same time, with unclear bitterness, I vaguely realized that the truth - the enemy of all good, and a falsehood - the friend of all good.
- The Suvorov Military School student of XXX, where you were during evening checking yesterday?
- … Houses … - and the platoon of juvenile morons, future defenders of the Homeland, heavy rain drops out in
a deposit, violently twisting a forefinger at a temple or convulsively holding tummies. The same who yesterday during evening checking “were in a toilet“ “rescued suddenly sick grandmother“, or “just did not hear command to be under construction“, get off light, and go later, showing off, to have dinner to the dining room. I, the fan of the ungrateful truth, go to scrub a soldier`s toilet.
Later, already in Perestroika times, the simple concept “honest“ that means “having honor“, “decent“ and “truthful“ gradually pumps over in concept, “stupid“, “fool“, “sucker“, and becomes some kind of curse. For example, I do not understand why now to juvenile Muscovites to look “Good night“ with all these sovok concepts, like “weak it is necessary to help, to give way to seniors“, or “it is bad to deceive“ if already the first class they have to be disaccustomed to all this unprofitable truth, to which only problems. Much more usefully, from young nails to understand that homo homeni lupus est, and in any way not on the contrary.
B sixteen I understood that the love can be mad, destructive, slowly and quickly ruining the unfortunate lover and … Platonic. In five months I did not sin with that whom, I never loved then more life, either business, or thought … Later, having passionately believed in the Lord, in the guilty thoughts, I managed it not longer, than for several weeks, so low I fell in the wordly passions …
Ya did not sleep nights, devoted it verses, gave flowers, fought, unjustly, in an unrestrained rush of grief and tenderness, shed bitter tears, and awfully was afraid to offend by the unworthy touch her gentle soul … thought up
Ya to write each other letters and to send them by mail as if we in separation though lived in three quarters one from another that our feelings to make free on paper, is similar to poets of the Silver age, like young lord Byron and beautiful Mary Chavort …
Once in an attack of loneliness and unclear, captured me a strong feeling, I carried out three hours under a pouring rain at her house, expecting it, having got wet to the skin, both from sky tears, and from own tears, then provalyalsya with a temperature of 40 several days. Well, I did everything that to lose this love as soon as possible. What as you can assume to yourself, did not fail to happen. I lost it. Once and for all. Five months later, she is an honors pupil and a prilezhnitsa, having given in to reasonable arguments the road and far marking maman, steeped in preparation for final examinations, having made at parting the handle to the poor student who was fallen in love with it. (I be not so blinded by this love tragedy, already then could draw a conclusion that the love in this world for me any more will never exist, and will be anything - the fact that by lazy inertia we loudly call “love“). It is sure, nobody will never love this woman so gently and tremblingly as her first silly boy.
However, by twenty years I began to suspect vaguely that the love, per se, does not exist. There is everything in this world: good sex as now speak, ardent passion, Platonic love, relationship of souls, at last. And love … It as that ghost about which all speak, but nobody never saw it. The love is it seems, as from the word “lyubo“, that is - what is pleasant the fact that to liking and to a body, not Bol.
B twenty three, boiling from just indignation, I was still ready to challenge to a duel any villain who dared to speak impartially of any woman at my presence, it is unimportant that duels sank Into oblivion long ago. I fiercely despised the senior companions bragging each other in the most barracks expressions, about volume “as“ they, “with whom“ and “where“ had a good time, savouring all grease details, lewdly giggling while their spouses gave birth, were treated, or just stayed with the mothers. In soul I secretly hated them for the fact that they cynically deceived the unfortunate wives as it was represented to me. I Remember
how my boss - is more senior than me everything for about four years - it was filled up early on Saturday for work drunk in a dymina, with three shabbiest wild orchids with such rumpled petals, pestles and stamens that, despite mine fastidiousness at that moment, for some moment I was sincerely glad that when the stupefying veil of night thawed in a sobering morning haze, it already was not in a state clearly to make out this three “chaste vestals“. And, nevertheless, for me it was some kind of “uncouth“ shock, and the beginning of the end of our business relations. In two years I left, full of the most honest contempt and just indignation for cynical human nature.
B twenty five, having taken matrimonial life an aluminum spoon, I already if did not share opinion of the senior companions, then treated their stories in a smoking-room with some share of indulgent understanding, being more and more convinced that the woman agrees to marriage with the man one thousand different, and, perhaps, not the worst, the reasons, but only not to make it happy.
B thirty, that without wishing, I became the ironic cynic and the secret misogynist more and more. And despised everything that some five years ago, I so furiously hated, the fact that as I was convinced, never personally will be able to concern and change me, entered me, having got to the most distant cages of my organism, having poisoned with the poison of bitter knowledge forever.
Silent, still without effort controlling the internal rage to the female nature, feverishly and thoughtfully trying to discover it justifications, and trying to understand the deep reasons and motives, I went day by day, frowning in immemorial questions. “Why in all of them disputes It is guilty always?“. “Why if It is not right, it is necessary to ask forgiveness for It?“. “Why She tells one today, and tomorrow with the same ardency wants another?“. “Why She cannot simply tell that to It not to liking, at once having designated a problem, and will pout for days on end?“. “Why She thinks that He has to make it happy?“. “Why It can lie, take offense, read his letters, to spy on It, to shed tears, to say that She does not love it, and all this is impossible for It?“. “Why, why, why?“. However, all my sarcastic feminotropiya smoothly and inevitably passed into a gloomy misanthropy as I was more and more convinced that all women are very similar, and all people are very similar too, aggravating my depression.
In the woman, suddenly, were found all those defects about which I also did not suspect, the adoring look considering her lovely charm through pink glasses of a libido. Cowardice, insidiousness, perfidy, petty sensitivity, sklochnichestvo, rancor, arrogance, lstelyuby, nonsense. To the woman everything says goodbye. It - a “weak“ floor. Almost everything is allowed to it. By the rule “You - the woman - and to these you is right!“.
- I leave you (to mother, to the new boyfriend, at the worst to the girlfriend. Everything was in advance planned and prepared) …
- But why???
- You constantly humiliated me (called several times in a fuse “silly woman“ and “goat“ - however, was for what, but and she was not in debt), raised against me a hand (once pinched painfully for a bum, and during scandal when she refused to make a dinner, slightly pushed, leaving at a door) did nothing on the house (couple of evenings provalyalsya with high temperature, and she did not even notice, it ukhaydokivatsya so at work more than once that came after dark and it was filled up to sleep, few times just idled, because was not moods), was the bad father (the child preferred to play on the computer or to watch TV, and you just left it alone), swore at my mother (an old grymza practically exposed us from the house, and never in two years took an interest as we live) …
- Recently! (A year ago, five years ago, ten. In a moneybox of offenses everything gathered, nothing was thrown out, was accurately dried, and it developed in accurate herbariums) …
- But it was so long ago! Since then I changed! You remember when you were ill, I carried to you drugs and gave hot tea to a bed. I devoted you verses, always gave all the pay and forgave one thousand trifles!
- I forgot nothing (really, memory at It excellent) …
- But why now when we understand each other and learned to suffer?
- Because everything was saved for years and I forgot nothing (too the purest truth!) …
B thirty I, suddenly saw that a family, this “a cell of society“, “a basis of bases“, “the reliable back“ -
simply very much looks like prison for me. And the wife on the jailer in a skirt. Yes, yes, and without irony. It is impossible, it is impossible. Here do not sit, there do not lie, observe sterile purity. A family, children, cohabitation, and so on, are favorable and natural … generally and also maloyestestvenna for the man are almost unprofitable to the woman. You judge: the woman are monogamous, one, well familiar sexual partner from whom she will give birth to children is necessary for them, that is will execute the main function put in her by the nature. The man, on the contrary, poligamen, is pleasant it to someone or not, is so caused by the nature. The family literally sentences him to cohabitation to one sexual partner what he, in most cases, is forced to agree to what he after suffers from and suffers as it suffers everyone forcing the nature.
the Woman gives birth and brings up, demanding love and care to the child from the man. To the man, as well as other representatives of his half of the world surrounding us - and we part it - the same tender feelings to the offsprings as to his companion are seldom familiar. That is, he, of course loves the child - as without it, but the, not so strong love. Often he does not test anything, except irritation and jealousy at all. But the society demands that men loved and not less women cared for the offsprings. The same who protests, trying not to lie to the nature, betray to stigmatization. Most often, by skillful suggestion and gradual education, the man begins to believe sacredly that he “is obliged“ to love, to care, endow etc., as well as to do military service, to die and serve as a field to the future generations.
In a family the man cannot naturally behave, unlike the woman. It cannot be aggressive, otherwise the woman will leave him, - and aggression is the integral part of the man`s nature stimulated by testosterone, men`s hormone. He should not raise the voice, swear, knock loudly doors, fight, get drunk etc. He has to work hard, make good money, arrive on time home, wash after itself(himself) a plate, in every possible way help the wife about the house etc. The woman, on the contrary, is completely natural in the bosom of the family: it is gentle, kind, whimsical, sensitive, captious, is grumbling, weak and et a setter. That is, in the plate, in the elements. Diapers, baby`s undershirts, pans, washing, an eternal sterile order or aspiration to it in a cozy nest - let and not dream of any hot woman, but nevertheless a situation more habitual for the woman, than for the man.
In a family the rare man has the right to be engaged in the business loved to it: to plane, saw, repair, sit in front of the computer, to write verses, to paint pictures, to study the Buddhism according to ancient books, to collect stamps and coins, to learn foreign languages, to drink beer with friends - in a word, all this is forbidden … if does not bring in the income.
Ya wrote three months any articles, and my wife at the beginning discontentedly frowned the small forehead, then began to grumble and “saw“ me openly. However after the fee came from publishing house to me, she sobstvennonozhno ran on mail behind money and in every possible way “indulgently“ treated my vigils.
Ya suddenly understood, having carried out the simple analysis of the and other relationship with “fine - awful
a floor“ that very many man`s troubles, speaking simply, in his phallus. Yes, yes. In the main instinct, in an insatiable libido. It should not worship, cutting out and vyleply fallichesky masterpieces of antiquity, and to damn for ever. Many troubles would manage to be avoided.
would Begin to get many of us families, to give birth and raise children, to suffer the intolerable wives, to be ready to do anything this family tyranny, to allow to put themselves on a short lead if we were simply eunuchs? Skoptsami? It is sure that the age of intending spouses and the “grown wiser“ men making “all these“ madnesses much considerably would grow. We would not run then as crazy, urged on by the constant Ayrektion, on a wreath.
In ten years the world seemed to me something unusual, wonderful. Everything blew the mind, surprised, amazed. Why there goes the car? How the plane flies? How it is possible to float under water and not to choke?
B thirty I understood that I am surrounded by fools. That the world around me foolish. With all its cars and planes. That is both that, and another, of course an equipment miracle, but people who serve it, for some reason fools. And rules foolish. At first sight they very clever, confused. Words any scientists. But you will look closer and you see that nonsense and exudes from all cracks.
Since school where us learn to be such as all. Fools.
- What we love Pushkin for? Ivanov!
- And I do not love Pushkin. I like Mayakovsky more!
- As it is possible not to love Pushkin! Pushkin - our everything!
- I am not pleasant to me.
- You in the right mind?
- Well, I do not like it …
- Tomorrow in school with parents!
Fool. As can Pushkin is not pleasant. It - our everything. Someone so solved. And if you do not agree
- the fool!
- The Foreman Onishchenko, why you in barracks have no light?
- So, it, companion ensign, yesterday the transformer box burned down. It is necessary to repair.
- So repair!
- Experts should be called. There works for a week.
- Cause! That tomorrow there was light in barracks!
- Companion ensign …
- Carry out!
Here and all “clever“ conversation. Prapor who for all life of nothing, except the socket not
repaired and who even did not see this most transformer box in eyes, gives orders about repair and appoints terms. In total from life.
Vast majority of people - fools. Fools not in bad sense, no. That is, understanding has them certain borders. And matter is not that you know the capital of Bangladesh, or the third law of Ohm - all this, as well as many other things, in the presence of elementary rudiments of mind and by means of assiduity, it is possible to learn, learn. It is possible to be the expert, the pro in the business, the remarkable joiner, the masterly accountant, the talented poet, anyone and to remain … the fool. The talent, erudition, education have not much in common intelligently.
Here, some signs of tomfoolery: the fool is always right. He is tolerant to arguments, but likes to argue. Not to outargue the fool.
It easily gives in to suggestion. By the way, the television, newspapers and radio just of this purpose
the Typical fool respects learning, force, the power. To respect - - the privilege of fools.
the Fool seldom what doubts. To doubt - the privilege of the clever man. Fools seldom are mistaken. Their world is arranged simply and if something in it is impossible, to it there is a simple explanation.
the Fool is always sure. In itself(himself), in what it does, in everything. The fool always remains is faithful to the principles. Expression “Everything flows - everything changes“ does not concern to them. To put it briefly, practically all those darlings and ordinary people whom we meet every day and who so complicate life of the people who are not so predisposed to tomfoolery.