第 九 章 · 第9章

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.

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.

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.