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LETTERS TO GALATEA
"I cherish no illusion as to the present-day reality of Russia" - The idea
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I am undergoing a slow but sure development here. I don't know, for the first time in my life I am just as interested in my own race as I am in all other races. Indeed if I look deeper, the representatives of the human race closest to my heart today are the Russians. They seem to me to be the bearers of Divinity. I am now learning Russian and will try and go to Russia to prepare for your arrival there. As much as we can, we must live through the divine, horrifying and marvellous chaos that is Russia. The books I am reading about the current situation in some provinces of Russia tell of horrifying things - of hunger, wretchedness and violence. And at the same time of unimaginable exaltation. Up until now, one peron has been trying to save the human race. The founder of religion. Now an entire people has undertaken the fatal mission. And the martyrdom one person was subjected to has now been multiplied a thousand times over, it is being suffered by millions, pain is annihilating countless souls. I cherish no illusion as to the present-day reality of Russia. I know that her very leaders do not have a clear idea of their mandate, I know that the people are undergoing unimaginable suffering, and here I met the country's greatest living philosopher, Sestov, and one of her writers, Remizov, who left Russia because they were opposed to what is going on, since they were unable to tolerate the terrible details. Yet I also know that mere ideas within an idealist's hot head are snug, pure, untainted, free of blood and dirt - but entirely barren, sterile, superfluous. As soon as they set foot on the earth's soil they get dirtied, blooded, are handed over to thousands of men - yet they become mother, they enrich life, raise the breath of the fighting God a little higher. I detest romantic views of the Idea. The Idea is like God - by way of unimaginable crimes, vice and stupidity, it nevertheless labours slowly forwards, ascending the stony ground of our Earth. Our duty is to try and find the pace at which it marches, and if we find it, to adapt the pace of our own trivial, transient life to it as far as we can. That is the only way we mortals can succeed in doing something eternal, because in doing so we are working together with someone immortal. In this way our life - our deeds and our thoughts - acquires unity and character. We overcome detail, we overcome tedium, we overcome pettiness, we feel that all people and nations - and more so all the plants and animals - are working together, we are all ascending together, transported by some mysterious, invisible Breath. Were are we heading? Nobody knows. Don't ask, just ascend! Maybe we aren't heading anywhere, maybe no-one rewards the footslog of life.
In this way we overcome the last, greatest temptation - Hope. We fight because we want to, without reward, we are not paid for our work. We sing even though we know there is no ear to hear us, we work and there is no boss to pay our wages when dusk falls. We are desperate, tranquil and free. That is true heroism, what seems to me man's greatest feat
Dearest wife, I can't describe how sweet and peaceful my life is at the moment with this desparate vision. I am working on Buddha, getting ready for Russia, I don't know, maybe I'll be able to put my insignificant life into order with a significant Goal. After Buddha, I don't want to write art any more. I would like to undergo the experience of Russia and then sort out a way to express the religious vision which posesses me. We'll see.
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