Underground

Gentlemen, I am joking, and I know myself that my jokes are not brilliant, but you know one can take everything as a joke. I am, perhaps, jesting against the grain. Gentlemen, I am tormented by questions; answer them for me. You, for instance, want to cure men of their old habits and reform their will in accordance with science and good sense. But how do you know, not only that it is possible, but also that it is desirable to reform man in that way? And what leads you to the conclusion that man’s inclinations need reforming? In short, how do you know that such a reformation will be a benefit to man? And to go to the root of the matter, why are you so positively convinced that not to act against his real normal interests guaranteed by the conclusions of reason and arithmetic is certainly always advantageous for man and must always be a law for mankind? So far, you know, this is only your supposition. It may be the law of logic, but not the law of humanity. You think, gentlemen, perhaps that I am mad? Allow me to defend myself. I agree that man is pre-eminently a creative animal, predestined to strive consciously for an object and to engage in engineering—that is, incessantly and eternally to make new roads, wherever they may lead. But the reason why he wants sometimes to go off at a tangent may just be that he is predestined to make the road, and perhaps, too, that however stupid the “direct” practical man may be, the thought sometimes will occur to him that the road almost always does lead somewhere, and that the destination it leads to is less important than the process of making it, and that the chief thing is to save the well-conducted child from despising engineering, and so giving way to the fatal idleness, which, as we all know, is the mother of all the vices. Man likes to make roads and to create, that is a fact beyond dispute. But why has he such a passionate love for destruction and chaos also? Tell me that! But on that point I want to say a couple of words myself. May it not be that he loves chaos and destruction (there can be no disputing that he does sometimes love it) because he is instinctively afraid of attaining his object and completing the edifice he is constructing? Who knows, perhaps he only loves that edifice from a distance, and is by no means in love with it at close quarters; perhaps he only loves building it and does not want to live in it, but will leave it, when completed, for the use of les animaux domestiques—such as the ants, the sheep, and so on. Now the ants have quite a different taste. They have a marvellous edifice of that pattern which endures for ever—the ant-heap.

Gentlemen, I’m joking, and I know my jokes aren’t brilliant. But you know, one can treat anything as a joke. Perhaps I’m joking against my own inclination. Gentlemen, I’m tormented by questions. Answer them for me. You want, for example, to cure people of their old habits and reform their will according to science and common sense. But how do you know that such reform is possible, let alone desirable? And what makes you think people’s inclinations need reforming? In short, how do you know such reform would benefit people? And to get to the root of the matter, why are you so convinced of this? Why must it always benefit people, and always be a law for humanity, not to act against their own true, normal interests, as established by reason and arithmetic? So far, you know, that’s only your assumption. It may be a law of logic, but it is not a law of humanity. Perhaps you think I’m mad, gentlemen? Let me defend myself. I agree that man is above all a creative animal. He is destined to pursue a goal consciously and to engage in engineering. In other words, he is destined to keep making new roads forever, wherever they may lead. But perhaps he sometimes wants to go off on a tangent precisely because he is destined to make the road. And perhaps there is another reason. However stupid the “direct” practical man may be, it may sometimes occur even to him that the road almost always leads somewhere. He may think that the destination matters less than the work of making the road. And he may think the main thing is to keep the well-behaved child from looking down on engineering. Otherwise, the child might give in to that fatal idleness which, as we all know, is the mother of all vices. Man likes to make roads and create things. That is beyond dispute. But why does he also have such a passionate love of destruction and chaos? Tell me that! But I want to say a few words about that myself. Could it be that he loves chaos and destruction because he instinctively fears reaching his goal and finishing the building he is constructing? There can be no doubt that he sometimes does love chaos and destruction. Who knows? Perhaps he loves the building only from a distance, and not at all when he sees it up close. Perhaps he loves only building it and does not want to live in it. Perhaps, once it is finished, he will leave it for domestic animals, such as ants, sheep, and so on. Now ants have quite different tastes. They have a marvelous building of that kind that lasts forever: the anthill.

With the ant-heap the respectable race of ants began and with the ant-heap they will probably end, which does the greatest credit to their perseverance and good sense. But man is a frivolous and incongruous creature, and perhaps, like a chess player, loves the process of the game, not the end of it. And who knows (there is no saying with certainty), perhaps the only goal on earth to which mankind is striving lies in this incessant process of attaining, in other words, in life itself, and not in the thing to be attained, which must always be expressed as a formula, as positive as twice two makes four, and such positiveness is not life, gentlemen, but is the beginning of death. Anyway, man has always been afraid of this mathematical certainty, and I am afraid of it now. Granted that man does nothing but seek that mathematical certainty, he traverses oceans, sacrifices his life in the quest, but to succeed, really to find it, dreads, I assure you. He feels that when he has found it there will be nothing for him to look for. When workmen have finished their work they do at least receive their pay, they go to the tavern, then they are taken to the police-station—and there is occupation for a week. But where can man go? Anyway, one can observe a certain awkwardness about him when he has attained such objects. He loves the process of attaining, but does not quite like to have attained, and that, of course, is very absurd. In fact, man is a comical creature; there seems to be a kind of jest in it all. But yet mathematical certainty is after all, something insufferable. Twice two makes four seems to me simply a piece of insolence. Twice two makes four is a pert coxcomb who stands with arms akimbo barring your path and spitting. I admit that twice two makes four is an excellent thing, but if we are to give everything its due, twice two makes five is sometimes a very charming thing too.

The respectable race of ants began with the anthill and will probably end with the anthill. That speaks highly of their perseverance and good sense. But man is a frivolous and inconsistent creature. Perhaps, like a chess player, he loves playing the game more than finishing it. And who knows? No one can say for certain. Perhaps the only goal mankind is striving for on earth is this endless process of striving, in other words, life itself. Perhaps the goal is not the thing to be attained. That thing must always be expressed as a formula, as certain as two times two equals four. And such certainty is not life, gentlemen, but the beginning of death. In any case, man has always been afraid of this mathematical certainty, and I am afraid of it now. Granted, man may do nothing but seek mathematical certainty. He crosses oceans and sacrifices his life in the search. But I assure you, he dreads succeeding, actually finding it. He feels that once he has found it, there will be nothing left to look for. When workers finish their work, at least they get paid. They go to the tavern, then they are taken to the police station. That keeps them busy for a week. But where can man go? In any case, you can see a certain awkwardness in him when he has achieved such goals. He loves the process of achieving them, but he does not quite like having achieved them. And that, of course, is very absurd. In fact, man is a comical creature. There seems to be a kind of joke in it all. But mathematical certainty is, after all, unbearable. Two times two equals four strikes me as sheer insolence. Two times two equals four is a cheeky, self-important fellow who stands with his hands on his hips, blocking your path and spitting. I admit that two times two equals four is an excellent thing. But if we are to give everything its due, two times two equals five is sometimes a very charming thing too.

And why are you so firmly, so triumphantly, convinced that only the normal and the positive—in other words, only what is conducive to welfare—is for the advantage of man? Is not reason in error as regards advantage? Does not man, perhaps, love something besides well-being? Perhaps he is just as fond of suffering? Perhaps suffering is just as great a benefit to him as well-being? Man is sometimes extraordinarily, passionately, in love with suffering, and that is a fact. There is no need to appeal to universal history to prove that; only ask yourself, if you are a man and have lived at all. As far as my personal opinion is concerned, to care only for well-being seems to me positively ill-bred. Whether it’s good or bad, it is sometimes very pleasant, too, to smash things. I hold no brief for suffering nor for well-being either. I am standing for ... my caprice, and for its being guaranteed to me when necessary. Suffering would be out of place in vaudevilles, for instance; I know that. In the “Palace of Crystal” it is unthinkable; suffering means doubt, negation, and what would be the good of a “palace of crystal” if there could be any doubt about it? And yet I think man will never renounce real suffering, that is, destruction and chaos. Why, suffering is the sole origin of consciousness. Though I did lay it down at the beginning that consciousness is the greatest misfortune for man, yet I know man prizes it and would not give it up for any satisfaction. Consciousness, for instance, is infinitely superior to twice two makes four. Once you have mathematical certainty there is nothing left to do or to understand. There will be nothing left but to bottle up your five senses and plunge into contemplation. While if you stick to consciousness, even though the same result is attained, you can at least flog yourself at times, and that will, at any rate, liven you up. Reactionary as it is, corporal punishment is better than nothing.

And why are you so firmly, so triumphantly, convinced that only the normal and the positive are good for people? In other words, why do you think only what promotes well-being is to their advantage? Could reason be wrong about what is to our advantage? Perhaps people love something besides well-being. Perhaps they are just as fond of suffering. Perhaps suffering benefits them just as much as well-being. People are sometimes extraordinarily, passionately in love with suffering, and that is a fact. There is no need to look to world history for proof. Just ask yourself, if you are human and have lived at all. Personally, I think it is downright ill-mannered to care only about well-being. Whether it is good or bad, smashing things is sometimes very pleasant too. I am not arguing for suffering, or for well-being either. I stand for ... my whim, and for having it guaranteed to me when necessary. Suffering would be out of place in vaudeville shows, for example. I know that. In the “Palace of Crystal” it is unthinkable. Suffering means doubt and denial. And what good would a “palace of crystal” be if anyone could doubt it? Yet I think people will never give up real suffering, that is, destruction and chaos. After all, suffering is the sole source of consciousness. Though I said at the beginning that consciousness is humanity’s greatest misfortune, I know people prize it. They would not give it up for any satisfaction. Consciousness, for example, is infinitely superior to twice two makes four. Once you have mathematical certainty, there is nothing left to do or understand. All you can do is shut up your five senses and sink into contemplation. But if you stick to consciousness, even if you reach the same result, you can at least whip yourself occasionally. At any rate, that will liven you up. Reactionary as it is, corporal punishment is better than nothing.