CHAPTER 2. A POET'S REVELATION.

February 2, 1913.

“Isn’t it a surprising fact that the valley of the Düssel River, where the greatest achievement of anthropological science was revealed to this world, has relatively recently been named after the very man who was one of the most outstanding theologians in the history of mankind—after Mr. Joachim Neander? What a world of paradoxes! The name of this valley, the valley where the remains of that assimilated man were naturally found—the very remains that served as one of the most significant, and therefore cornerstone, arguments for Darwin's theory—is now constantly pronounced in various progressive scientific communities: was this the fate desired for his name by one who never doubted the existence of the Almighty? The name of a pastor of God is now continuously broadcast from the lips of the pastors of science—it is often pronounced by those very lips that, one way or another, willingly or unwillingly, seek to prove the non-existence of the Almighty, but not of a Higher Mind: this often happens, of course, unwillingly, for they are driven by the thirst for progress, and as we know, the further science progresses, the more arguments for the existence of God are destroyed.

However, it must be acknowledged that one should not always be so categorical in these matters—blind and foolish in this world is he whose conclusions and maxims are based only on trivial, hackneyed, clichéd categories: this world is much larger and much deeper than any categories whatsoever, and therefore, it truly would not be the slightest trouble for it to, in the blink of an eye, destroy what is called, supposedly, 'deeply fundamental principles and norms...'” Such thoughts were currently passing through the mind of the man who, at that moment, was in a small tavern, whose unique existence was somehow lost on one of the few, extraordinarily quiet avenues of the constantly moving New York.

In his right hand, in the right hand of William Arthur, at that moment was a cheap ivory-colored cigarette that, indeed, continuously created an exceptionally acrid curtain of gray-faced smoke—despite this, very unique and completely surrounding his being, chaotic haze, his thoughts at this hour were extremely clear and, what's more, agile: smoking brought his being, truly, no small physical pleasure—and he found metaphysical pleasure with the help of languid and deep reflections, the unshakeable foundation for which often served as concentrated observations of the mysterious world surrounding his being, which, in turn, for some reason, or more likely for some purpose, contained, truly, countless gallons of quite interesting information.

But who, who was this man? Who, who was William Arthur really? First of all, he was a child of humanity, but not a child of his time: that is why his story, truly, deserves considerable attention from genuinely sensitive and, what's more, frankly judicious people!

William Arthur! An outcast who was, for what seemed to him to be incomprehensible reasons, mercilessly betrayed by his limited relatives! Why was he betrayed by them? Or, perhaps, was it he who betrayed them? William Arthur reasoned about this betrayal as an adherent of the cult of freedom, while his blood relatives—as adherents of the cult of lineage! In his understanding, he was betrayed by his relatives because of the exceptional common sense in his being—and indeed, his relatives were truly some of the most zealous opponents and adversaries of this amazing and extraordinarily sweet element! In the understanding of his blood relatives, William Arthur betrayed them because of the exceptional stupidity in his being—he did not want to be a follower of the family business and, accordingly, did not want to be chained by his own father to the galley bench of meaningless, hard, daily labor, the only rewards for which were only a relatively cozy roof and monotonous, meager food. No, William Arthur could not change his nature and his being!

His father, like the Creator, furiously wanted to make him his servant and his slave, and therefore any manifestation of sound mind and sincere love of freedom that, one way or another, came from William Arthur’s being was invariably tamed by his blood parent and immediately regarded by him as a betrayal not only of the family business but of the lineage itself—the very peculiar self-love of his arrogant father was directly based, first of all, on the humiliation of his own son, as well as on the suppression of his no more and no less than an extraordinarily strong will. Another son of the aforementioned father, completely devoted to the phantasmagorical ideals and ephemeral, ethereal principles of that man, was held in exceptional esteem in this family—he dreamed of countless riches, and therefore with the frenzy of Charybdis he absorbed all the promises sent to his being: he perceived his brother, William Arthur, as nothing less than a very inappropriate obstacle on his path—he felt only the most sincere hatred for him, constantly believing that he was his competitor. This is how William Arthur soon realized that the name of a lineage, and the lineage itself, is no more and no less than a very ordinary label that denotes something but determines nothing.

This world, or rather its inhabitants, William Arthur's blood relatives, without suspecting it at all, made him the most sensitive and, at the same time, the most embittered man in this world: he was easily wounded—and he always, no matter what, saw his revenge through to the end. Often his revenge was inaction or silence—he had perfectly learned to control his being, and therefore he was able to control other people no less perfectly. Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that he was extraordinarily grateful to his blood offenders—it was they who made him closed to this world: but isn't it in closed shells that the most magnificent pearl can be born? Thus, nothing less than the main misfortune in his life was able to become the cornerstone of his main happiness—it was the harsh treatment from his relatives that allowed him to discover the truly indescribable world of creativity!