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520 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1928
In the immensity of the universe, in the solar system, on the earth, in Russia, in Moscow, in the corner house of Sivtzev Vrazhek, in his study, in his armchair, sat the learned ornithologist, Ivan Alexandrovitch. Confined by the lampshade, the light fell on a book and struck the corner of the inkstand, the calendar and a pile of papers. The scholar, however, saw only that part of a page where there was a coloured picture of a cuckoo.
The cosmos? Tanyusha could not grasp it. For was it not the whole sum of things and the crowning of all? Whereas she was but on life’s threshold, hardly yet beyond the confines of chaos from which she had come at her birth. So far she had only just begun to gather up the crumbs of knowledge, being still entirely in the world of problems and first perceptions – all most important, all tottering and contradictory. She strained eagerly towards what was clear – the axiom, casting theory aside, chafing at alternative solutions and experiencing no need of faith.
Beneath the edifices of the diplomatic cemeteries drainage pipes had been laid, along which foul liquid flowed to the central sewer, thence on to irrigate some fields where grew prime cauliflowers. In this way official turpitude and lies were transformed in the last stage and by a process of sedulous cleansing into the purest tears and the beauty of valour. People of limited intelligence talked of mere cheating, which was unjust, since the deception was a most complicated and grandiose affair. People with narrow foreheads became defeatists, therefore, whilst the wise retired from active life, some for many years, others for ever.
Victory was to come to those accustomed neither to thinking, nor weighing, nor valuing, and who had nothing to lose. And they did conquer, too. After some deliberation the people in civilian clothes proclaimed: “We have conquered”; and driving away the real conquerors, filled the places of highest authority in the dead city.
The first foe was man, the second, rats, and the third the pale, malignant louse, from which there was no escape in marketplaces, dens and stations. And to die just then, besides occasioning a lot of trouble to one’s relatives, was hardly less expensive than to go on living.