Russia: Its People and Its LiteraturePardo Bazán, Emilia, condesa de
History
Russia: Its People and Its Literature
Pardo Bazán, Emilia, condesa de
Russia -- Civilization; Russian literature -- History and criticism
To sweep away the past with one stroke became his perennial aspiration.
He drew a vivid picture of a secret tribunal which every _new man_
carries within himself, to judge, condemn, and guillotine the past; he
described how a man, fearful of following up his logical conclusions,
after citing before this tribunal the Church, the State, the family, the
good, and the evil, might make an effort to save a rag of the worn-out
yesterday, unable to see that the lightest weight would prove a
hindrance to his passage from the old world to the new. "There is a
remarkable likeness between logic and terror," he said. "It is not for
us to pluck the fruits of the past, but to destroy them, to persecute
them, to judge them, to unmask them, and to immolate them upon the
altars of the future. Terror sentenced human beings; it concerns us to
judge institutions, demolish creeds, put no faith in old things,
unsettle every interest, break every bond, without mercy, without
leniency, without pity."
This was his programme: Not to civilize or to progress, but to
obliterate, to demolish; to replace what he called the senile barbarity
of the world with a juvenile barbarity; "to go to the very limits of
absurdity,"--these are his own words. They contain the sum of nihilism;
they include the pessimist despair, and the foolish proscription of art,
beauty, and culture, which to an artistic mind is the greatest crime
that can be laid at the door of any political or philosophical doctrine.
A tendency that aspires to overthrow the altar sacred to the Muses and
the Graces can never prevail.
Herzen went to London, established a press for the dissemination of
political writings in Russia, and organized a secret society for Russian
refugees, among whom he counted Bakunine; and having refused to return
to his country, he founded a singular paper called "The Bell"
(_Kolokol_), of which thousands of copies, though strictly prohibited by
the censor, crossed the frontier. They were distributed and read on
every hand, and a copy was regularly placed, by invisible hands, in the
chamber of the emperor, who devoured it no less eagerly than his
faithful subjects. From the pages of this illegal publication the
sovereign learned of secret intrigues in his palace, of plots among his
high officials, and scandalous stories reported by the socialist refugee
with incredible accuracy. By the side of these evidences of dexterity
and cleverness, some of the stratagems recounted of the times of our own
Carlist war seem mere child's play.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account