Clerambault: The Story of an Independent Spirit During the WarRolland, Romain
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Clerambault: The Story of an Independent Spirit During the War
Rolland, Romain
World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
O Liberty! Thou art always in chains, but they are not the heavy
fetters of the past; for each struggle has enlarged thy prison. Who
can tell? Perhaps later, when the prison walls have been thrown down....
But in the meanwhile, those whom thou wouldst save resist thee.
Thou art called the Public Enemy, or The One against All. To think
that this nickname should have been fastened on the weak, ordinary
Clerambault! But he did not remember that at this moment, his thoughts
were filled with the one who has always existed, ever since man has
been known on the earth; the one who has never ceased to fight their
follies, that they may be delivered--_The One whom All oppose_.... How
many times throughout the ages have they rejected and crushed him! But
in the midst of his agony a supernatural joy sustains him; he is the
sacred golden seed of liberty, which fell from we know not what sheaf,
and in the darkness of destiny has sowed the germs of light, ever
since the first chaos. In the depths of the savage heart of man, the
frail atom found shelter, it fought against elementary laws which
grind and bend living things; but tirelessly the small golden seed
grew, and man the weakest of all creatures, marched against nature and
fought her. Each step cost a drop of his blood, in this gigantic duel;
he has had to fight nature not only in the world without, but within
himself, since he is a part of her. This is the hardest battle, that
waged by the man divided against himself; and in the end who will
conquer? On the one side is nature with her chariot of iron, in which
she hurls worlds and peoples into the abyss; and on the other is
only,--The Word. It is no wonder that you laugh, ye slaves! no wonder
the servants of force say that it is like "a cur barking at the wheels
of an express-train." Yes, if man were only a fragment of matter
writhing in vain beneath the hammer of fate; but there is a spirit
within him which knows how to smite Achilles on his heel, and Goliath
in his forehead. Let him but wrench off a nut, the swift train is
overturned, its course stayed. Planetary swirls, obscure masses of
human-kind, roll down through the ages lighted by flashes of the
liberating Spirit: Buddha, the Sages, Jesus--all breakers of chains! I
can see the lightning coming, feel it thrill through me, like sparks
that fly up beneath the horse's hoofs. The air vibrates with it, as
the thick clouds of hate come together with a crash. The flame springs
up! If you are alone against the world, have you cause to complain?
You have escaped the crushing yoke, fought your way through, like a
nightmare in which one struggles and tears oneself out of the dark
waters. You sink, choking, and all at once with a despairing effort
you throw yourself beyond the reach of the wave, and sink exhausted
but safe on the shore. These people wound me? So much the better, I
shall wake up in the free air.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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