Русское зазеркалье
Шрифт:
Whichever way you answer it, the very fact that the unknown Soviet soldiers were eager to sacrifice their own lives for the sake of a waltz—this fact may take your breath away. Things are not that Kafkaesque, of course: this waltz requires a world where waltzes, written by British composers, still can be played, this world being exactly what the soldiers were fighting for. We are completely unable to empathise with their state of mind, to reflect it in our mind as long as we refuse to deal with the concepts of duty and sacrifice. It is precisely the readiness to sacrifice your own life that makes even your death—‘in fire, in smoke’—a relatively simple matter. Can we still deal with this concept, though, ‘over-intelligent’ as we are? Are we up to it? The world we live in has become a very safe place over the last fifty years. In the world of today, it is no longer needed to sacrifice one’s own life, and the idea that each human life is invaluable has long become a commonplace with us. What if it is not? What I mean to say is: aren’t there some things that are still more valuable than the life of an individual?
Duty is another very important word whose meaning we probably are unable to understand as long as we do not reject our individualism, as long as we pretend that it is this very individualism that is ein feste Burg, a mighty fortress of our weltanschauung. Over the last century, the word duty became somewhat pale: we do not use such phrases as ‘your sacred duty is to give up your life for the sake of your own country’ any longer. We instinctively feel that there is too much pathos in them. We are simply not up to this pathos, so we just call such phrases ‘pathetic’—forgive the unintentional pun. We seem to fully misinterpret the very concept of duty which we see as something external, as a task that can be forced upon a person. When a teacher says that an essay is ‘due tomorrow’ he or she means that he or she is able to academically penalise those students who won’t submit their compositions by tomorrow and that he or she most certainly will do so. It works very nicely with things that are less important than your life, but this reading of the concept becomes impossible when it is your life that is asked from you. You absolutely cannot force a person to sacrifice his or her life for whichever sake because you have no means of coercion, the most severe punishment that you can impose on this person being his or her execution—but you have asked for his or her life, anyway. Strange as it seems, duty, in the loftiest sense of this word, is based entirely on our free will to transgress the boundaries of our personality—of our individualistic self, rather. (Please give some examples of people who you think have transgressed the boundaries of their selves.) ‘Jeder stirbt fur sich allein’, ‘Every Man Dies Alone,’ or, maybe, ’Dies for His Own Sake,” to remember the title of Hans Fallada’s famous novel. But ‘we do not live alone’ (I am quoting a character from An Inspector Calls, a meaningful play by John Boynton Priestley who was an English novelist, playwright, screenwriter, broadcaster and social commentator), and we cannot possibly live for our own sake only, however much the mainstream mass media would try to convince you in the opposite. Some of us, who fully understand that they do not live alone, are lucky enough to dispose of their own death, making it either a death ‘fur sich allein,’ for their own sake, or a meaningful death for the sake of other human beings.
The world of today has become a very secure place (I believe I have already said that) which is sort of an aquarium with glass walls being either police ensuring public security or modern medicine protecting us from any diseases long into our old age. It is precisely this aquarium that gives birth to some very bizarre forms of hedonistic life (such as homosexualism en masse, for instance). I am afraid these glass walls will be torn down, sooner or later. We are—and here comes another quotation from the same play by J. B. Priestley—
… members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when, if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish.
And if it ever comes to the destruction of this aquarium it will be the Soviet soldiers listening to Songe d’Automne whom we can learn valuable things from.
‘Good night!’ says the inspector after he has finished his scornful tirade. ‘Let us make a break before we deal with your answers to my questions,’ says your humble lecturer.49
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Есть
[сноска дальше]:
– I would rather skip this question, sorry.
Это не вызвало никакой реакции на первом вопросе, но к второму появились улыбки, а к третьему и приглушённые смешки. Конрад демонстративно-комично попробовал вытянуть шею, чтобы заглянуть в эту записку – Патрик прикрыл её рукой, что, конечно, спровоцировало новое веселье.
Обсуждение шло своим чередом – иногда мне приходилось комментировать откровенные глупости, иногда попадались очень умные, даже зрелые ответы, – и мы добрались в итоге до последнего вопроса. Патрик, слегка вскинув руку и неопределённо махнув пятернёй в воздухе, приподнялся с места и протянул мне исписанный листок бумаги.
– You don’t want to read it aloud, then? – уточнила я.
– No, not really. I st-stammer a bit, – ответил Патрик с серьёзным лицом. Новый смех, и я тоже невольно улыбнулась: он раньше не был замечен в заикании. Патрик и ухом не повёл: то ли получал удовольствие от того, чтобы быть комиком группы, ведь хорошие комики своим шуткам не смеются, то ли демонстрировал, как мало ему интересно, что о нём думают.
Я взяла листок из его рук, пробежала глазами наискось и прикусила, сдерживая улыбку. Заметила вполголоса:
– Or maybe you simply don’t have the courage to read it aloud…
– Yes, sure, because I am not Leo Tolstoy who commands, ‘B-b-battery, fire!’ – откликнулся Патрик, вновь ко всеобщему удовольствию.
Что же, перед лицом вызова нельзя прятать голову в песок, так меня научили… Откашлявшись, я отчётливо произнесла:
– I appreciate your tact, Patrick, but I think that your answer provides enough food for thought to be read aloud, and I also repeat that honest confrontation is better than dishonest harmony – just you try to stop me! – прибавила я, увидев, что он открыл рот, чтобы возражать, и начала читать вслух.
An example of a person who transgresses the boundaries of her personality is Ms Alice Florensky, a visiting professor at the College of Contemporary Music in London. Below, I explain four ways of how she does it.
Ms Florensky is a war-monger, firstly. She justifies the civil war in Ukraine and probably the annexation of Crimea, saying that it is Russia’s own affair or maybe an act of self-defence. She justifies military propaganda, saying that it serves the good cause, and she actually poses herself as a propagandist. Perhaps she even is one.
Ms Florensky, secondly, belittles pacifists in general and the Russian anti-government intellectuals in particular, those very people who are the only decent people in Russia we can shake hands with.
Thirdly, she is openly homophobic, without even thinking of the fact that her homophobia intimidates her homosexual students. (I must note in parenthesis that there is no such word in our language as homosexualism, not any longer, because it is not a disease to be categorised as an ‘-ism’.)