CHAPTER 24. THE NEWLY-APPEARED MISSIONARY

April 24, 2005.

“'But she convinces me that she doesn't love me... convinces me with words...'” said twenty-seven-year-old Gustave Lecourt sadly to sixty-six-year-old Gérard Savigny at the very hour when the small settlement, whose residents they were, was tirelessly ablaze with an unusually bright celebration in honor of its creation: at this moment, Gustave and Gérard were in the shade and watched from a distance the light that the celebration continuously radiated... in the same way, spiders, hiding in the darkness of a house, curiously contemplate how people realize their existence in our world. It must be admitted that young Gustave and elderly Gérard did indeed significantly resemble these creatures: the only difference was that they were weaving by no means a thin web, but the metaphysical threads of deep and intricate antinomies. In these very minutes, they were very comfortably seated on a long, thick log, which had once been a tree that granted a truly enormous shadow.

“'We can be visibly and tacitly forced to believe in many things that are not true, Gustave, and in this case the choice is only ours—what to believe and what not to believe... however, you should not then be amazed that something happens completely differently from what you wanted or want... or even goes completely against... your goals... Here, you'd better take this mug with this wine and drain it faster!'” the sixty-six-year-old Gérard commanded his twenty-seven-year-old interlocutor in a fatherly manner, after which he handed him the appropriately filled mug, and then watched with special attention as young Gustave carried out his instruction.

“'I am being called to the capital, Gérard... I want to go there and at the same time my being is afraid of its power and vices... What should I do? In all capitals, the flower of the state and statehood is always located—at least, that is what books teach us.'”

“'I understand, once I was just like you—before life cast me into such abysses, the mere mention of which again awakens a frantic horror in my soul... Every capital beckons to itself, like a campfire's flame beckons all kinds of moths, naive people who, frantically striving for 'light,' invariably scorch their thin and delicate wings on the harsh reality of the existing world: the one who has truly known and felt that world always strives for nature, and accordingly for the provinces—the capital repels the enlightened with the same force with which a girl in love repels a young man who is truly dear and valuable to her on a first date...’” said the one who looked exactly like all great, albeit not always successful, people: he fully trusted the Almighty and his fate, believed in the strategic, and not tactical, success of all his thoughts, and was also steadfast in relation to current and future problems, using at the same time the experience of solving past problems—"'But if you still decide to move to the capital and become a merchant there, then know... that the prosperity of a rich merchant is created not by his goods, not by his mind, and not by his shop, but by those very people who leave their money with him—no matter how much he boasts of his own merits, without these people he will never see this prosperity... Commerce! It is an ocean where there are its own ebbs and flows, its own storms and its own shapeless ripple... and especially in the capital!.. where a truly human society lives—a chaotic intertwining of all kinds of colors: a personality is one of these colors—to understand society, you need the ability to understand individual colors, to understand the shades and tones of these colors, because without such a property of skill and knowledge, a person, without understanding the constituent mechanisms of the structure, will never understand the picture as a whole, globally... Do you hear that gentle voice singing?'”

“'Yes, I recognize it—Adeline is singing!'”

“'Adeline... That's who you should marry—you are obsessed with that... Alexandra... Don't misunderstand me, Gustave: it's not bad when I give you advice, it's bad when you misinterpret it, because... the same words can affect different people in different ways... some call to action, and others—to inaction! Oh, what a voice! Now I have fully grasped a certain glorious truth—the words of a beloved woman during an illness are many times more effective than a thousand remedies! How wonderfully she sings!.. In this world, everything is cyclical, Gustave—gentle songs can awaken gentle feelings in a human soul, and gentle feelings, in turn—gentle songs! And yet... you should invite Adeline on a date... perhaps even now! Don't waste time! Why do you need this empty chatter with an old man!?'”

“'No, Gérard, I am faithful to my choice... even if it is a false one! I am convinced that true love arises not at balls and not at celebrations, when everyone is dressed in exquisite outfits; it appears on a simple, unremarkable, of course, with the exception of its appearance, day, when you are simple and natural! True love arises when you look the object of your adoration directly in the eyes and he does not turn his gaze away, but looks back just the same!'” At the very hour when Gustave was saying these words, he was contemplating his being from the outside, with his metaphysical essence: at that moment, a true curiosity and no less sincere interest in himself awakened in his soul... when you don't like your own house, how can someone else like it?

“'Your words compel my heart to praise you...'”

“'Praise only brings joy when it is voiced by a worthy person!'”

“'Oh, you are quite the flatterer!'”

“'I do not hide this, Gérard! When we try to seem holy and pious—we annoy people: a truly pious and virtuous person never annoys anyone, of course, with the exception of those who are incorrigibly vicious!.. As for women... Our only support in this world is by no means women, but faith in God, for only it is able to keep us afloat whether during a storm or a lifeless ripple...’” Wishing not to show the emotions that ruled in his heart on his face, Gustave himself did not notice how he most unconsciously showed them.