CHAPTER 26. THE PEOPLE'S REPRESENTATIVE

April 26, 2019.

After his workday ended, twenty-seven-year-old deputy Yves Delaguerre sighed freely for the first time all day—the life of a people's representative in this world is not simple, just like that of any public servant: on one side you are subject to the pressure of power, and on the other—the pressure of the people. Having grown significantly weary of seeing all sorts of sycophancy before his eyes all day—no, not toward his person, but toward his position!—Yves Delaguerre, for whom doors were opened all day in the most exquisite of cars, decided to descend underground by himself, without a guide, without a Virgil—no, not into hell, but into the metro, to the crowd, to the people!—in order to get a closer look at those whose fate he was called by the Almighty Himself to decide. Hastily changing into simple clothes and hiding his appearance with glasses and a cap, he stealthily slipped away from the attention of the people who so lowly and slyly groveled before him and immediately headed straight underground—in those moments, there were many people here, and accordingly, there was much to study: Yves Delaguerre tasted the sprouts of joy in those moments. What else awaited him underground? A lot! The metro, of course, is not the Great Theatre of Pergamon, but performances no worse than within its confines take place here too—of course, for those eyes that are able to see and discern. But could Yves Delaguerre see, was he capable of seeing? The answer to this question could only be provided by his votes for those very bills that he cast, or did not cast, today. Yves Delaguerre, being a deputy—a person who, no matter how much he wished the opposite, is forced to think not only about his own problems and the problems of his family, but also about the problems of society—had managed to see a lot in this life, but even more, without a doubt, he had not seen: in relation to this problem, the metro provided him with a certain kind of assistance.

“'Did you hear, the movie Avengers: Endgame came out today—we'll be able to watch it in our cinemas soon?'” one young man said to another when the metro car had already started moving and Yves Delaguerre began to listen carefully to the conversations of the people before him: and they think and reason not about the laws that were passed today, but about a movie, music, games, and TV shows... is this not intentional?

Listening to the conversation of other young people, Yves Delaguerre heard the following:

“'I am the pen and ink of the Almighty: all my ideas and books were not created by me, but by the Almighty, with the help of my bodily form—that's what the phrase 'God in each of us!' means... Having created many brilliant and truly great works, in which each plot is a whole world, a whole Universe, a whole life, I only now realized why my being did not seek public recognition—I was nameless and faceless, like a blade of grass in a meadow or a cloud in the sky, so that my being could live and not be ruined because of the very truths that it stated: but when everything is created, death is no longer terrible to me—power and society can destroy me, but they cannot destroy the eternal life of my soul, which is made up of my ideas, thoughts, and feelings, set down on paper...'”

“'You have earned... and are worthy of recognition! You spent all your childhood years on learning—at the very time when many indulged in all kinds of pleasures, you lived first in the books of the classics, and now you live in your own, being no worse than the former yourself! You did not waste your time on women... but spent as much time on reflection as the Venetian doges spent on women! You were always above us, ordinary people, while not being arrogant or proud—your strength was in your exceptionality, in the originality of your being... All learning is a movement, the meaning of which lies not in the final result, but in the process itself...'”

“'And yet, the most terrible thing is that knowledge, like any property, can be easily destroyed—but not taken away!—first of all... by depriving a person of a sober mind... Ah, how intricate is the fate of every genius in this world! I recall the story of Kafka...'”

“'Do you know why it is difficult to be a genius? Because you must not lose your mind in the very situations when you are overwhelmed with feelings—it is this quality that allows you to shackle those metaphysical impulses with paper that are the soul of the Universe!.. And besides, every brilliant, and therefore great, person, regardless of his position, location, and time, always has unique premonitions of that greatness—something arises in his soul that testifies to the imminent approach of chaotic harmony and harmonious chaos: for example, one of the harbingers of a storm and thunderstorm are dark clouds...'”

Taking a few more steps in the metro car, where he managed to see several ruins of human souls and lives, he noticed a beautiful girl next to him—she did not ignite feelings and emotions in the being of Yves Delaguerre, but she managed to awaken certain thoughts in him: he looked at her with a cold, empty gaze, which was unable to convey the thoughts and feelings of the observer to the observed object—it was the gaze of a frog, which, blinking occasionally, looks at this world without giving it its emotions and without arousing them in it: but inside his being, truly cosmic processes were taking place. What his face expressed at that hour in no way corresponded to what he felt and what he was thinking. Of course, this girl was lovely, but loveliness is not always capable of giving rise to passion, and even more so—love: love, in turn, always makes a person lovely!