Political fiction; Russia -- History -- 1801-1917 -- Fiction; Russia -- Officials and employees -- Fiction
undone, and secretly, inwardly gnawing, gnawing at myself for it,
tearing and consuming myself till at last the bitterness turned into a
sort of shameful accursed sweetness, and at last—into positive real
enjoyment! Yes, into enjoyment, into enjoyment! I insist upon that. I
have spoken of this because I keep wanting to know for a fact whether
other people feel such enjoyment? I will explain; the enjoyment was
just from the too intense consciousness of one’s own degradation; it
was from feeling oneself that one had reached the last barrier, that it
was horrible, but that it could not be otherwise; that there was no
escape for you; that you never could become a different man; that even
if time and faith were still left you to change into something
different you would most likely not wish to change; or if you did wish
to, even then you would do nothing; because perhaps in reality there
was nothing for you to change into.
And the worst of it was, and the root of it all, that it was all in
accord with the normal fundamental laws of over-acute consciousness,
and with the inertia that was the direct result of those laws, and that
consequently one was not only unable to change but could do absolutely
nothing. Thus it would follow, as the result of acute consciousness,
that one is not to blame in being a scoundrel; as though that were any
consolation to the scoundrel once he has come to realise that he
actually is a scoundrel. But enough.... Ech, I have talked a lot of
nonsense, but what have I explained? How is enjoyment in this to be
explained? But I will explain it. I will get to the bottom of it! That
is why I have taken up my pen....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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