Sanine by Mikhail Artsybashev (ebook pdf reader for pc .TXT) 📕

His hand shook as he lit a cigarette; again his strong limbs twitched convulsively, and he went indoors. Sanine who had heard nothing yet who had seen and comprehended all, followed him, roused almost to a feeling of jealousy.

“Brutes like that are always lucky,” he thought to himself, “What the devil does it all mean? Lida and he?”

At supper, Maria Ivanovna seemed in a bad temper. Tanaroff as usual said nothing. He thought what a fine thing it would be if he were Sarudine, and had such a sweetheart as Lida to love him. He would have loved her in quite a different way, though. Sarudine did not know how to appreciate his good fortune. Lida was pale and silent, looking at no one. Sarudine was gay, and on the alert, like a wild beast that scents its prey. Sanine yawned as usual, ate, drank a good deal of brandy and apparently seemed longing to go to sleep. But when supper was over, he declared his intention of walking home with Sarudine. It was near midnight, and the moon shone high overhead. Almost in silence the two walked towards the officer’s quarters. All the way Sanine kept looking furtively at Sarudine, wondering if he should, or should not, strike him in the face.

“Hm! Yes!” he suddenly began, as they got close to the house, “there are all sorts of blackguards in this world!”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Sarudine, raising his eyebrows.

“That is so; speaking generally. Blackguards are the most fascinating people.”

“You don’t say so?” exclaimed Sarudine, smiling.

“Of course they are. There’s nothing so boring in all the world as your so-called honest man. What is an honest man? With the programme of honesty and virtue everybody has long been familiar; and so it contains nothing that is new. Such antiquated rubbish robs a man of all individuality, and his life is lived within the narrow, tedious limits of virtue. Thou shalt not steal, nor lie, nor cheat, nor commit adultery. The funny thing is, that all that is born is one! Everybody steals, and lies, and cheats and commits adultery as much as he can.”

“Not everybody,” protested Sarudine loftily.

“Yes, yes; everybody! You have only got to examine a man’s life in order to get at his sins. Treachery, for instance. Thus, after rendering to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, when we go quietly to bed, or sit down to table, we commit acts of treachery.”

“What’s that you say?” cried Sarudine, half angrily.

“Of course we do. We pay taxes; we serve our time in the army, yes; but that means that we harm millions by warfare and injustice, both of which we abhor. We go calmly to our beds, when we should hasten to rescue those who in that very moment are perishing for us and for our ideas. We eat more than we actually want, and leave others to starve, when, as virtuous folk, our whole lives should be devoted to their welfare. So it goes on. It’s plain enough. Now a blackguard, a real, genuine blackguard is quite another matter. To begin with he is a perfectly sincere, natural fellow.”

“Natural?”

“Of course he is. He does only what a man naturally does. He sees something that does not belong to him, something that he likes⁠—and, he takes it. He sees a pretty woman who won’t give herself to him, so he manages to get her, either by force or by craft. And that is perfectly natural, the desire and the instinct for self-gratification being one of the few traits that distinguish a man from a beast. The more animal an animal is, the less it understands of enjoyment, the less able it is to procure this. It only cares to satisfy its needs. We are all agreed that man was not created in order to suffer, and that suffering is not the ideal of human endeavour.”

“Quite so,” said Sarudine.

“Very well, then, enjoyment is the aim of human life. Paradise is the synonym for absolute enjoyment, and we all of us, more or less, dream of an earthly paradise. This legend of paradise is by no means an absurdity, but a symbol, a dream.”

“Yes,” continued Sanine, after a pause, “Nature never meant men to be abstinent, and the sincerest men are those who do not conceal their desires, that is to say, those who socially count as blackguards, fellows such as⁠—you, for instance.”

Sarudine started back in amazement.

“Yes, you,” continued Sanine, affecting not to notice this, “You’re the best fellow in the world, or, at any rate, you think you are. Come now, tell me, have you ever met a better?”

“Yes, lots of them,” replied Sarudine, with some hesitation. He had not the least idea what Sanine meant, nor if he ought to appear amused or annoyed.

“Well, name them, please,” said Sanine.

Sarudine shrugged his shoulders, doubtfully.

“There, you see!” exclaimed Sanine gaily. “You yourself are the best of good fellows, and so am I; yet we both of us would not object to stealing, or telling lies or committing adultery⁠—least of all to committing adultery.”

“How original!” muttered Sarudine, as he again shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you think so?” asked the other, with a slight shade of annoyance in his tone. “Well, I don’t! Yes, blackguards, as I said, are the most sincere and interesting people imaginable, for they have no conception of the bounds of human baseness. I always feel particularly pleased to shake hands with a blackguard.”

He immediately grasped Sarudine’s hand and shook it vigorously as he looked him full in the face. Then he frowned, and muttered curtly, “Goodbye, good night,” and left him.

For a few moments Sarudine stood perfectly still and watched him depart. He did not know how to take such speeches as these of Sanine; he became at once bewildered and uneasy. Then he thought of Lida, and smiled. Sanine was her brother, and what he had said was really right after all. He began to feel a sort of brotherly attachment for him.

“An amusing fellow,