Month: May 2019

Solitude and faith. Carnivorous island in Life of Pi as a symbol of solitude and a place where strong spiritual orientation is acquired.

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In this essay I will discuss the functions of the carnivorous island in Life of Pi (2001) by Yann Martel on the level of main character and on the level of the plot. I will mobilize psychoanalytical approach to argue that the carnivorous island symbolizes Pi’s loneliness during which he regains his faith and therefore survives. These functions are summarized by Pi in his conversation with representatives of the Maritime Department. Pi says: “Solitude began. I turned to God. I survived” (Martel 219). Carnivorous island is also a point in the novel where readers are invited to make a choice whether they believe in God or not. I will make a reference to the interview with Martel to state that appearance of the island is a culmination of the novel. Readers are offered the choice between faith and atheism.

I will refer to the article “Doing–Being and Relationship–Solitude: A Proposed Model for a Balanced Life” by Hadassah Littman‑Ovadia in order to prove that the island symbolizes solitude. The article explores communal and individual realms of social life in order to propose a method to find balance between the two. Specifically, I will highlight the similarities between the features of loneliness presented in the paper and those in the novel. Among these features are inner harmony, lack of concerns, and contradiction of loneliness to human nature. I will discuss how Pi and Richard Parker illustrate these features.

According to the article, mindfulness is “the self-regulation of attention in the present moment” (Littman‑Ovadia 5). It is achievable if consciousness obtains control over subconsciousness. To show how it happens on the carnivorous island with Pi, I will first prove that Richard Parker symbolizes Pi’s subconsciousness. In the final of the book Pi retells the story of his survival without animals to representatives of the Maritime Department who try to find out the reason behind sinking of the Tsimtsum (Martel 200). Mr. Okamoto notices similarities between animals and people: “Both the zebra and the Taiwanese sailor broke a leg, did you notice that?” (219). Following this logic, Richard Parker represents Pi’s subconsciousness: “selfishness, anger, ruthlessness” (219). When Pi gets on the carnivorous island, he tames Richard Parker: “I came to the conclusion that I had to step into the circus ring again” (189). Pi succeeds in training the tiger to jump through a hoop (190). Arguably, this scene symbolizes one of the benefits of loneliness for Pi – harmony within himself and presence in the moment. Another positive aspect of solitude, according to the article, is that “individuals are liberated from social and other constraints” (Littman‑Ovadia 8). I argue that this feature is illustrated by the island’s resistance to sea storms. According to Pi, he “would have trusted staying on it [island] during the worst hurricane” (Martel 188). The weather catastrophes represent problems that people face in the external world of social life. On the island of his isolation from people, Pi is liberated from hardships of living with others, such as arguments, contradiction of interests. It is also evident in one of Pi’s observations: “it was impossible to hurt myself” (183). I interpret pain here in metaphorical manner as spiritual pain sometimes experienced in society. Additionally, the lack of cultural constraints is shown by how Pi gorges with algae: “perhaps fish ate the algae as gluttonously as I did” (195). Islam and Christianity resent gluttony as a sin. The fact that Pi engages into committing this sin daily on the carnivorous island symbolizes his betrayal of ethical systems that guide people’s behaviors. To summarize, Pi’s actions on the carnivorous island support the claim that the island symbolizes Pi’s loneliness.

Further exploring the figure of Richard Parker, I will show how his actions on the carnivorous island depict the artificiality of solitude for people both in biological and social contexts. To begin with, Richard Parker starts “searching for a female” (189) on the island. Mobilizing psychoanalytical approach, I argue that such tiger’s behavior symbolizes Pi’s instinct for reproduction. Furthermore, discussing the social context, according to Littman‑Ovadia’s article, “as human beings, we are social by nature” (Littman‑Ovadia 6). Therefore, a prolonged solitude is unhealthy for people. It is visible in Richard Parker’s behavior. When the tiger starts killing the meerkats, Pi notes that “he [tiger] killed beyond his need” (Martel 187). Such actions symbolize the loss of culture by Pi, since ethical systems of Pi’s world condemn irrational murder. To begin with, as a Hindu, Pi was a vegetarian before shipwreck. According to his description of Hinduism, “Brahman [is] expressed not only in gods but in humans, animals, trees, in a handful of earth” (36).  Therefore, Pi can not kill creatures that have divine power in them. Both Islam and Christianity condemn murder of innocent creatures. It is possible to suggest that solitude ruins cultural values that have previously controlled Pi’s subconsciousness. Moreover, the fact that the carnivorous island heals Richard Parker and turns him into “a magnificent animal” (183) he had been prior to sinking of Tsimtsum, reinforces the scale to which Pi’s subconsciousness becomes unrestrained. To summarize, Richard Parker illustrates the negative aspects of solitude for people both in terms of nature and society.

I will use an article “The Correlates of Spiritual Struggle during the College Years” by Alyssa Bryant and Helen Astin in order to prove that Pi’s decision to leave the carnivorous island symbolizes that he returns to his faith. The study explores factors, such as inability to understand why people have to suffer, that lead to spiritual struggles among young people and consequences of such challenges on “physical well-being, self-esteem, and levels of psychological distress” (Bryant, Astin 2). According to the article, spiritual struggles are important in propelling personal growth and they also correlate with decline of spiritual growth. I will use this information to show that Pi is on the verge of losing religion, however, his decision to escape from the carnivorous island helps him to return to God. In Pi’s words, the presence on the carnivorous island or solitude inspire him to turn to God.

To begin with, I will prove that Pi enters the metaphorical island or literally succumbs to loneliness having lost his faith. It is evident in the description of Pi’s arrival on the island that underlines the illusive nature of the island, its detachment from reality. The main character’s attempts to get on the island resemble the Biblical account of how St. Peter was walking on water. Pi says: “I slowly brought a leg down. My foot entered the sea” (Martel 180). This allusion raises the theme of disbelief. In the Gospels, Peter starts sinking because he cannot believe his experience of walking on water. Even though Pi does not sink, he also doubts the existence of the island. Furthermore, the loss of faith is evident in how the religious experience is substituted with attributes and performance. In the beginning of the novel Pi describes his religious experience by emphasizing its spiritual nature:

Tree took account of road, which was aware of air, which was mindful of sea, which shared things with sun.

                                                                                                                            (46)

When Pi sees the island, he shares the following observation: “Green is a lovely colour. It is the colour of Islam” (179). In comparison to Pi’s prior religious experiences, this encounter with Allah is superficial. I argue that the shallowness of this phrase, Pi’s attention to attributes, rather than spiritual changes, proves his distance from faith at this point. It is further supported by the fact that Pi continuously mentions his physical healing on the island, neglecting his spiritual state. It can be demonstrated via the following excerpt:

My running became smooth and unselfconscious, a source of euphoria. My skin healed. My pains and aches left me. Put simply, I returned to life.

                                                                                                                               (187)

Furthermore, the fact that Pi lacks faith during the first weeks on the carnivorous island is supported by the comparison of meerkats with monks:

To see so many beings bending down at the same time reminded me of prayer time in a mosque.  

                                                                                                                               (185)

Once again, the substitution of spirituality with external attributes of faith, in this case, the ritual of bending down during prayer, reveals Pi’s spiritual struggle, him having become distant from faith. To sum up, the illusive nature of the island apparent to Pi at the moment of first encounter and many features of religious performance convey the loss of faith by the main character.

Now I will prove that Pi regains his faith after realizing that solitude is murderous. The fruits with human teeth that the main character discovers on the island allow Pi to understand that loneliness kills the spirit. According to the narrator, prolonged presence on the island will leave him with “broken spirit” (196). Pi describes loneliness as equivalent to hopelessness and lost dreams:

How much hope come to nothing? How much stored-up conversation that died unsaid? How much loneliness endured? How much hopelessness taken on?

                                                                                                                               (196)

Consequently, I will employ research from the article to prove that this spiritual struggle helped Pi to return to his faith. According to the paper:

Many developmental frameworks assume in fact that “crisis” is both necessary and instrumental in promoting personal growth and maturation

                                                                                                          (Bryant, Astin 6)

Pi decides to leave the island and by overcoming his religious struggles this way, he obtains a strong spiritual orientation.

Lastly, I will explore the function of the island on the level of the plot. During the interview Martel said that the island was the point in the novel where readers were required to either make the leap of faith and accept the implausible island or remain atheists. To prove this point, I will outline the features of the island that contradict laws of nature according to representatives of the Maritime Department. To begin with, lakes on the island are “evenly scattered, identically sized ponds” (Martel 184). There is no precise design in nature. Next, the description of a subspecies of meerkats that are capable of swimming is unbelievable because meerkats are adopted to living in deserts (185). Furthermore, the description of how algae turn salt water into fresh and digest marine fish is unrealistic (186). All these details lead the reader to face the choice of whether to believe in Pi’s narrative and thus, accept God, or reject the fantastic story and turn to atheism. From the point of view of the plot, the island carries out the promise given at the beginning by an elderly man who said, “I have a story that will make you believe in God” (4).

To conclude, the carnivorous island in the novel Life of Pi symbolizes solitude experienced by Pi in the ocean. This period of solitude gives him full harmony with himself and liberates him from all concerns. However, it also makes him face such struggles as inability to follow his instinct of reproduction and alienation from lifestyle prescribed by his culture. The loneliness is a challenge for Pi that he has to overcome in order to return to his faith in God. For Pi, failure to overcome the solitude imposes the risk of both physical and spiritual death. On the level of the plot the island serves as the point where readers are required to choose whether they believe in the unrealistic story told by Pi and accept religious accounts, or they remain skeptical and choose atheism.

Works-Cited

Bryant, Alyssa N., and Helen S. Astin. “The Correlates of Spiritual Struggle During the College Years.” The Journal of Higher Education 79.1 (2008): 1-27. CrossRef. Web.

Littman-Ovadia, Hadassah. “Doing–Being and Relationship–Solitude: A Proposed Model for a Balanced Life.” Journal of Happiness Studies (2018): 1-19. CrossRef. Web.

Martel, Yann. Life of Pi. 1. publ. in Great Britain ed. Edinburgh: Canongate, 2003. Web.

 

Ancient times

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Around 400000 years later when a leader of a large settlement of early Homo sapiens commanded to attack a neighbouring village to seize vital resources in conditions of a deadly drought that drained rivers and robbed trees of fruits, he was guided by a legend about a man whom gods instructed to murder the majority his own tribe so that the at least a small fracture of it survived. This legend had been passed down from generation to generation in the northern part of what is now known as Europe.

Back in the days when the legend was created, it described a courageous rebellion of wisdom against the subordination to instincts and surrounding environment. It happened in one small tribe of Homo heidelbergensis, chinless people with protruding browridges that survived by hunting gigantic mammoths, fearful herds of hoofed animals, ferocious cave predators, by gathering fruits, berries and mushrooms. That tribe was headed by the strongest man with robust muscles and hot temper who refused to nourish his mind, one of the greatest gifts given to his kind by nature. His silent enemy was a feeble man who was as lean as a reed and extraordinarily wise.

Whenever the group of hunters from the tribe endeavored to hunt, the leader ordered to attack animals without any strategy, relying on the precision of spear throwing, speed of running and courage to not retreat. This method of hunting costed many lives. One day several men died because the leader commanded them to attack a herd of reindeers while it was observed by a group of cave lionesses. The hunters saw the predators, however, no one dared to disobey the order. The leader’s muscles tensed and enlarged like a hood of cobra when he watched the men being gnawed by lions and reindeers galloping away into the open plain.

Meanwhile, every time when the group of hunters spotted a potential prey, the wise man designed the strategy for an effective attack, such as driving a herd of reindeers down a canyon. However, he never shared the visions of the brighter end of a hunt. He did not dare to advice the leader who lost his temper after unsuccessful hunts and blamed his fellow hunters for the failure.

Apart from the ability to plan ahead, the wisdom of the man extended to manufacture of new tools and careful observation after the tribe. While he sat on a cold rock in a cave, striking stones together, his eyes that glittered in the dusk watched the relationships between the members of the tribe. Through meticulous surveillance the man knew exactly who was loyal to the leader and who was ready to double-cross him. This information was reflected in the length of intimate interactions, such as grooming and food sharing, between the leader and the subordinates, as well as in the number of sexual relationships that the members of the tribe were allowed to have. Furthermore, the wise man noted with which women the leader spent most of his time, which women he spared from hard work and endowed with the most food.

The day came when the wise man decided to replace the leader. He arrived to this decision gradually, through bearing the constant intimidation until the ancient emotion of hatred and instinctive craving for power intensified to the scale that they could be hold back no longer. The final resolution braced his heart when he imagined himself organizing a hunt. At that moment, he gained authority over the laws of nature by arriving to the conclusion that physical strength was not the only deciding factor in the pyramid of hierarchy.

The murder took place during the period of cold and rainy weather, which forced the whole tribe to leave the cave daily in desperate search for food. Furthermore, the flows of rainy water into the upper chambers of the cave drove humans into the lower ones. The upper and lower chambers were connected by a narrow path that could be blocked by a pile of large rocks.

One night the wise man woke up those members of the tribe who were against the leader according to months-long observations and instructed them to block the path between chambers by carrying and rolling large rocks. It was a loud storm outside with constant thunder and lightnings that muffled the noise of rocks being dropped on top of each other. When the wall was finished, the rebellious part of the tribe slept on the muddy ground of the upper chamber. At the dawn when the storm ended, they went away, dooming 28 individuals in the lower chamber on death from thirst and hunger.

The associates of the wise man passed down the story to their children, who passed it to their children. This way the legend about a wise man whom gods granted the incredible power to move large rocks was born. He turned against the leader of the tribe to ensure its survival.

Now as the leader of the settlement of Homo sapiens steeled his heart against citizens of a village that possessed resourced during the period of severe drought, he remembered the old legend as justification for the murder. As he and his warriors were killing men, women, and children by piercing them with spears and butchering them with axes, new legends about enemies who insulted gods and thus deserved slaughtering were formed. Storytellers immortalized justifications for the gruesome consequences of the increasing wisdom.

 

A dilemma

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Dimitri’s heart was heavy when the young sales analyst entered the office of his manager in Research and Development Department of a large renowned company that produced juices. Michael Vinogradov sat in a black armchair at the oak table decorated with statues of gymnasts. Dimitri heard that Michael’s daughter was a rhythmic gymnast who aspired to represent the country on the Olympics.

“Good afternoon,” Dima said in an unconfident quiet voice and looked at his boss in a begging manner akin to a dog scared of punishment.

Vinogradov’s chin was supported on his left hand, while his eyes were focused in one spot. His eyebrows were scrunched together revealing a deep engagement into some thoughts. The hair on his head was touched by greyness.

Michael did not return the greeting, which crashed the young man’s hopes on a miracle that would help him keep his job. Despite of the fact that yesterday Dimitri’s father told his son that Vinogradov refused to accept a large bribery, Dima hoped that his manager would change his mind.

However, the expression of the Michael’s face showed no hint of mercy. Looking at the man renowned for his impeccable reputation, Dimitri realized all absurdity of his hopes. How could Vinogradov who has never committed a single dishonest action throughout his 8-year long career, turn a blind eye to Dima’s outrageous action?

On his side, Vinogradov saw a youth who let him down and whose father tried to tempt him into breaking own moral principles. Dimitri allowed himself to arrive on a conference where a new juice was presented under the influence of drugs. This provoked a large-scale scandal that affected Michael’s reputation. Therefore, Vinogradov was merciless.

He watched in silence how Dimitri read and re-read documents pertaining to his dismissal. This time-stretching and the desperate appearance of the young man – his eyes were blinking often and his hands were shaking – irritated Michael to the extent that he sighed, stood up and approached the window. He felt that he could no longer observe the young man without insulting him. Vinogradov started to drum his fingers on the windowsill. The view of the grey joyless sky with rainy clouds set his mind into a wandering mode. Michael remembered that today was his 16-year-old daughter Ksenia’s participation in a decisive competition the results of which defined whether she would be accepted in the Olympics team or not. He thought of her with tenderness, having no doubts in her success. She has always been very nervous, but I believe she pulled herself together and showed the best of her skills, Vinogradov told himself.

Eventually Dimitri said in an unsteady voice: “I’m done.”

Michael turned around and said in a well-modulated cold manner: “You are free to go then.”

Michael met the last pleading sight with neither doubts or tinkling of compassion. When Dima left the office with ducked head and hands dropped in a powerless way, Vinogradov immediately returned to his duties, wishing to waste no more time on the graceless matter.

Later when Michael Vinogradov returned home from work, the first sound that he heard was that of his daughter’s sobbing in the quietness of the flat. The thought They didn’t accept her flashed in his mind. He touched the top button of his shirt when he noticed that his fingers were trembling. He glanced at his face in the mirror and saw how pale it was. Only then Vinogradov realized the high degree of his disappointment.

I can’t believe it, he told himself, and immediately felt anger with himself, she’s extremely hurt. I have to console her. Michael clenched his fists, trying to take control over his own emotions. He felt robbed of pride, yet he had to find words to support Ksenia. He changed his clothes slowly, using every second to achieve inner calmness and distance himself from crashed expectations. It was very hard to do because the vision of his daughter, holding the golden medal and smiling radiantly at a cheering crowd, kept appearing in his imagination.

Drop it! Vinogradov ordered himself and resolutely walked into Ksenia’s room. He was shocked when he saw his daughter’s body fallen on the desk with her right hand extended. Her palm was cut many times with a knife, and blood was streaming on the surface of the desk. Ksenia’s wet face with red puffy eyebrows had a trace of incurable depression and tear-soaked eyes did not react on Michael. He ran towards her.

“Ksusha, my sweetheart!” he mattered in an anxious voice and kissed her forehead, “please, calm down. Everything is alright.”

Michael grabbed the knife and rushed into his room to the shelf with medicine and bandages. He locked the knife in the drawer of his desk. Then he ran into the kitchen, took all knives and locked them away as well. Then Vinogradov almost carried his daughter into the bathroom – she had no will to walk –  and washed the blood away. Throughout this desperate activity, he kept mattering, “Please, honey, calm down. It’s not a tragedy.”

When he put her on her bed and sat besides her, a decision was formed in his mind.

“Ksusha, you will get into the team. I promise you.”

“They… rejected…” she spoke for the first time. Her voice was weak, breathless, liveless, “There is no hope… The decision is final…”

Michael felt his heart breaking.

“Nothing is final,” he told his daughter, “It can be changed. They will change their decision. Trust me. You will become the Olympics champion. Give me two days.”

She raised her exhausted eyes at him and whispered, “Can you do it?”

“Yes, of course,” Vinogradov kissed her forehead again, “try to sleep.”

He stayed in her room for the whole night. He sat slumped at her desk, watched the movement of the moon across the black sky and reflected on his moral principles and his daughter’s life. Ksusha was diagnosed with depression after her parents got divorced when she was 9 years old. Vinogradov recalled the hard time when she refused to eat and go to school. Shivers ran down his spine when he thought that the depression might return and this time push Ksusha to suicide.

I can’t risk her life, he told himself, she is so desperate that she can end her life. At these words he shuddered and with wide-opened unblinking eyes stared into the darkness, making sure that Ksusha’s chest was rising and falling in rhythm with breathing under the blanket. The heavy feeling of own guilt was clutching his throat. I shouldn’t have married that woman. An unhappy child wouldn’t have been born, he was thinking, while massaging his temples with cold fingertips. I have never bribed anyone, never… I was so proud of being successful and honest. What will it be like to betray own principles? I will condemn myself until the end of my days. When Ksusha grows up and realizes what happened, will she respect me? Even if I bribe them to pretend that a mistake happened, she will realize the truth later. It might be a shock for her. How do I make the choice?  Her life and future or my dignity and self-respect?

Michael dropped his head on his arm and remained motionless for a long time.

In the morning he phoned his sister to come and look after Ksusha who was still sleeping at 10 a.m. After she arrived, he left the house and drove to the academy of gymnastics. He was so nervous that he could hardly focus on the road and nearly caused a car accident. A beep of an outraged driver returned Vinogradov back to reality and he realized that his forehead was covered with large drops of sweat. When he went out of his car and headed to the large building where Ksusha took classes, he felt himself a thief who was robbing himself of an invaluable irreplaceable treasure. Half-way towards the entrance he stopped and turned around. With horror Michael realized that he was making sure that none of his colleagues saw him. Then the image of his depressed 9-year old daughter with arms as thin as branches of a young tree and eyes as empty as those of a dead person appeared in his memory. Vinogradov dropped his head and quickly walked into the sports academy.

When Michael was invited into the office of the director, he realized with horror that he forgot to prepare a speech and that he was now lost for words. Vinogradov felt that the air around him turned hot as if he was transported into a desert. The face of the director with a well-wishing smile was seen as if through some sort of a mist. Michael hardly grasped the meaning of the welcoming words, “I’m happy to see you, Michael. Please, take a seat. I believe you want to talk about your daughter’s yesterday’s performance.”

Vinogradov remained standing. His throat was dry, and for a single moment he felt that he would not be able to pronounce a single word. This sensation lasted for only a second. Then he said, “I want to offer you and members of the committee one million rubles each if you pretend that yesterday’s decision was a mistake and accept Ksenia into the Olympics team.”

The director’s face became pale, the smile vanished from his face. He frowned and leaned back in his armchair with his hands crossed on his chest. Unconsciously he pressed the cold tips of his fingers to his burning forehead and lowered his eyes, hiding the unbearable suffering that could be visible in their desperate expression.

“Please, take a seat,” the director repeated his request, but now it sounded not as an invitation for a friendly conversation but as invitation for discussion of the terms of the deal. Michael slowly lowered himself in the armchair and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt that seemed to be strangling him. Suddenly faces of Dimitri and his father appeared in Vinogradov’s memory, and the despair rose once again in him. There was no way back. There were no means for repent.

“You did everything right. You had no choice. The life of your daughter is more important than your moral principles,” Michael’s sister told him when he returned home and poured himself a glass of vodka that he bought on his way back. She patted him on the shoulder and peered into his empty eyes.

He responded in a bitter voice, “Even if one does not have a choice, one always has responsibility for one’s actions. I will carry mine until my death.”

Tragic figure of modern liberalism in Russia

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“Here you are,” Maria Olegovna Ivanova placed a plate with steaming risotto in front of Grigory on a table covered with a white beautiful tablecloth.

“Thank you,” the young man smiled.

Kirill Petrovich Ivanov smirked, “She cooks this meal the best. We call it her masterpiece.”

Grigory nodded his head as a sign of gratitude and looked at Kristina. Her eyes were shining with happiness because the evening went perfect so far.

When Kirill Petrovich met his daughter’s boyfriend for the first time tonight, he liked him. Grigory’s handshake was firm and confident. His black eyes had a straight look. While Maria Olegovna was preparing dinner, Kirill Petrovich, Kristina and Grigory sat in the cosy living room and talked. Ivanov was telling about his liberal views – resentment against monopolies, support for value of human rights, freedom of speech, and Grigory expressed his solidarity by enthusiastic nods. A sincere engagement into the conversation was conveyed via the young man’s forward-leaning posture and eyes fixed at Kirill Petrovich’s face.

Now, looking at Grigory, Ivanov felt a tickling of pain in his heart. He realized how many years have flown by. His daughter was an adult already and soon could get married and leave the family. He remembered one sunny day 15 years ago when he was playing with his little girl in a house yard. He was running away from her, and she was chasing after him, moving her tiny feet in a clumsy manner. Kirill Petrovich sighed with nostalgia and chewed the first spoon of creamy risotto.

“Tell us, what do you study? What do you want to do in the future? Kristi never tells us anything. She says she wants us to make our own judgement,” Maria Olegovna broke the silence, “I think she is just playing a role of an independent adult.”

“Mom!” Kristina exclaimed with displeasure in her voice, “Please, don’t bother Grisha with our family business.”  

“Don’t bother, don’t bother,” Mom teased her daughter, “Are you even going to invite us to your wedding?”

Kristina blushed, and Grigory spoke up. Kirill Petrovich knew that his daughter was angry at her Mom for being so fixed on the idea of marriage because she thought it was too early to speak of it. None of her close friends were married yet; they all were in the period of searching for the only one.

Kirill Petrovich was satisfied that the young man showed sensitivity to Kristi’s unspoken wishes and stopped the teasing that was annoying for her. When I was in love, I tried to guess every wish of hers, Ivanov thought, giving a glance back at his youth. He recalled how once he could not sleep for the whole night because Maria cancelled their date without any explanations. On the next day he went to see her, and they had a terrible fight. With her lips trembling and her brows looking red and puffy after long crying, she blamed him for loving another girl. For hours he dissuaded her, and eventually they got reconciled. He still remembered the feeling of happiness that spinned his head when he hugged and kissed her.

Where is this passion now? he wondered with another tickling of nostalgia. Over more than 20 years of their marriage, Kirill Petrovich had studied his wife in great depth. The adventurous spirit of exploration that inhabited Ivanov’s heart and made him nervous and stressed out at times when he could not guess Maria’s wishes, had deserted him…

“I’m studying on the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics,” Grigory was saying, “I have a part-time job as a street-sweeper. I have always been passionate about planes. I’d like to connect my future with aviation.”

“I am working as the Head of Flight Operations in Federal Air Transport Agency,” Kirill Petrovich said smiling.

“Wow! Kristina never told me that!” Grigory exclaimed. His spoon froze mid-way towards his mouth. Then amusement in his face got substituted by a tense expression of inner struggle. He frowned and lowered his eyes. It seemed that he was debating something in his mind. Eventually he chose to chew risotto and remain silent. However, the expression of disapproval did not leave his face. Kirill Petrovich noticed that his daughter looked uncomfortable – her eyes were rushing about, her cheeks turned crimson. He suggested that she did not tell Grisha about them, her parents, because she wanted to look as much independent as possible.

Suddenly Kristina started speaking in an a anxious voice, “Grisha wants to initiate a start-up. It’ll be a company that would help clients to choose the best private aviation training centers according to their needs.”

Kirill Petrovich thought: Am I so detached from my job in Kristi’s mind that she forgot that Grisha’s startup would be in direct competition with Federal Air Transport Agency? Moreover, tomorrow we’ll annul all pilot license granted by private centers.

“That’s brave. I encourage ambition!” Kirill Petrovich said despite of his thoughts because in his heart he supported the freedom of competition. He also remembered his youth when he dreamed of founding a huge successful company. It was something connected with optics. I wanted to sell the best glasses in the world, Kirill Petrovich thought with another tickling of nostalgia.

“Thank you, Kirill Petrovich…” Grigory made a pause. The doubts that visited him several seconds ago came back. Eventually, he gave way to the decision to speak out, “I understand that this startup might worsen the competition for Federal Air Transport Agency. The governmental aviation training centers are much more expensive than private ones. Frankly speaking, I can’t think of any pluses that they have.”

Kirill Petrovich felt respect to this young man for his courage. If Ivanov had not been the Head of Flight Operations in Federal Air Transport Agency, he would have shaken Grigory’s hand and agreed with him entirely. However, his post did not allow him to do so. Kirill Petrovich lighted a cigarette that he always did when he went against own views and leaned back in his chair. He hated his own well-moderated and calm voice when he repeated the official rhetorics of Federal Air Transport Agency, “Private centers use unrecognized training programs. They falsify the numbers of training flights that pilots had.”

Kirill Petrovich looked straight into Grisha’s widely opened eyes and despised himself. Have I selled myself entirely? Have I completely betrayed my liberal views? I am lying to this young man… His hand that was holding the cigarette trembled, and a pinch of ash has landed on his shirt.

“Okay, it’s enough talking about business!” Maria Olegovna broke the tense silence, “Kristi, help me to clean up and make tea.”

Kristina stood up, looking upset that her words caused an uncomfortable situation. Kirill Petrovich hurriedly changed the subject.

“Have you been abroad?” he asked Grigory who made a visible effort to conceal disappointment that his face was conveying.

***

On the next day, Kirill Petrovich woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest. He struggled to fall asleep during the night, and a slumber that descended on him closer to dawn did not bring refreshment. Ivanov sat up, looked at his wife who was still sleeping and sighed deeply. Wrinkles were covering his solemn face. There were bags under his eyes. He stood up, sensing pain in his back and knees, and slowly headed to the bathroom.

Today Kirill Petrovich had to become an executioner who would break lives of hundreds of people. Even the word ‘executioner’ is too mild for the duty that I’ll carry out today, the man thought while brushing his teeth and looking at his exhausted face reflected in the mirror, I will be a vile murderer who would betray own views and stab the knife into men’s backs.

After several minutes of emptiness in his mind, during which the hand performed routine movements with the toothbrush, Kirill Petrovich started shaving. He stared at his old face, at his hair with glitter of greyness, at his eyes that stopped shining and turned dim and dull. A miserable ‘liberal’, he told himself with a mocking smile and felt how the pain in his chest intensified. For the first time in 30 years he reconsidered cutting his neck with the razor that he held in his hand. It’s so simple, he thought with a wave of depressive indifference to life that he once experienced in his youth.

Back then, he realized that he could not fulfil his dream of founding the huge corporation that would ship glasses and lenses all over the world. It happened after his new evolving company went bankrupt because it was outcompeted by another company that had a more effective advertising campaign. Young Kirill despite of having liberal views damned competition, bought a bottle of vodka, got drank and lost consciousness for the first time in his life. The next morning he considered suicide but love to Maria stopped him.

Did I agree to discredit all private aviation centers by annulling license that they give because it’s a revenge for my crashed dream? Kirill Petrovich thought, while washing away the shaving gel.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw that Kristi had already served him breakfast and was getting ready to go to university.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said in a cracking voice. What would she think about me when she hears the news? How will Grisha treat her after that? She seems to love him so much. If he leaves her, it’ll break her heart, Kirill Petrovich thought, while eating the omelet that seemed bland to him, However, I can’t lose my job now. I need it until Kristi is entirely independent.

On the way to work Kirill Petrovich kept regretting that he became an instrument of the insensitive government that decided to break dreams of innocent people and eradicate the freedom of competition. At the same time, he tried to steal his heart for the important duty that awaited him. He was staring at his hands holding the wheel and it seemed to him that the official explanation of Federal Air Transport Agency was tattooed on his knuckles: Federal aviation centers guarantee safety, as opposed to private ones. With trembling fingers Ivanov hurriedly lighted up a cigarette and inhaled tobacco several times. During the hour-long drive to work the text got imprinted into Ivanov’s mind to the extent that the man started believing in it.

After the annulation decree was published, Kirill Petrovich sighed and felt a void inside himself. He leaned back in his chair, craving for a cigarette. He drummed the surface of his desk with his fingers and stood up. Ivanov intended to go to the smoking area when his office phone rang. He ducked his head, slouched his shoulders, and sat down.

“Yes?” he said. His exhausted empty eyes were wandering around his cabinet. They stopped at the prize “Russian of the year” received just several months ago, at the portrait of the president that was hanging on the wall, at a small statue of a plane that Kristina once gave him as a birthday present and that was placed on his desk.

Suddenly his eyes widened, and drops of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“How?” was the only question Kirill Petrovich could mutter.

Then he stood up and headed out of the office with his hands hanging powerlessly on his sides. Instead of a smoking area, Ivanov was going to the administration office to write a resignation letter.

Later, while driving home, he was so focused on his thoughts, that he nearly caused an accident – he noticed that the front car had stopped at the last moment. Midway Kirill Petrovich went to a liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka. At home, he started drinking it alone, and when Maria Olegovna returned from work, she was shocked. Ivanov never drank vodka alone in the middle of the week; they usually allowed themselves to relax every Friday with a bottle of wine.

“What happened?” she asked, bemused.

Kirill Petrovich raised his red tear-soaked eyes and murmured:

“I got what I deserved…”

 

Nuclear threat

Posted on by wp-user

Alarming civil defense sirens cut through the tranquil air, ruthlessly destroying the calm and pleasant summer day in a cottage village on the suburbs of the capital. The sounds shake green grass and ripe sunflowers and cause flocks of birds to dart off with loud noise of flapping wings.

Ivan who is lying in a hammock hanging between two apple trees opens his eyes and stares at his phone. The capitalized phrases: “BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT”, “SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER”, “15 MINUTES LEFT” imprint in his mind. The wailing of the sirens pierces his heart with despair. He jumps out from the hammock and rushes towards the house. Half way he notices Alexandra running towards him with stretched arms. He shouts with all his might: “Follow me!”

Ivan rushes away from their cottage with the only thought The bunker circulating in his mind.

When he bursts into the yard of Vasilii Ilyich, the former deputy, he sees the old man hurrying towards the farthest corner of the yard. Vasilii Ilyich is accompanied by his bodyguard, a tall middle-aged man.

Ivan turns his head and notices a group of neighbors quickly approaching. He accelerates and reaches Vasilii Ilyich first. Immediately the guard points the gun at him and warns not to come close.

“Vasilii Ilyich, my wife and I wanted to ask if you have a free space for us,” Ivan puts his hand on his chest. He is suffocating from the sprint and anxiety.

A loud scream prevents the retired member of the parliament from answering. A woman falls on her knees in front of Vasilii Ilyich and begs him:

“Please, save our family. Kirill and I have two children. Please, save us!”

Ivan turns around and sees many pale faces behind. He sighs, feeling how the tremor travels from his lips down the throat, and how his chest quivers. Too many people! he thinks with horror.

Then his brain shifts into the familiar mode of depressive indifference. For a long time, Ivan has been suffering from regular depressions, propelled by his constant interaction with death in the highly stressful position of a cardiac surgeon.

Once in autumn he had a conversation about the meaning of life with his patient – an old man – who needed a complex surgery. The old man said with a feeble mocking smile on his pale wrinkled face, “The older we become, the more useless we get.” He did not survive the surgery. Later, every autumn Ivan recalled these words, and his job, his nation-wide recognition lost significance for him. He could sit for hours without movement next to the window, watching the waltz of colorful leaves outside. Alexandra brought him antidepressants, and before taking a pill he whispered, “One day I’ll die, and no one will remember me in four generations. What’s the point of it all?”

As the thoughts One day I’ll die anyway. If it’s today, I don’t mind, enter Ivan’s head, he continues to contemplate the frightened faces with indifference.

“Silence, please!” Vasilii Ilyich exclaims raising his hands, “We don’t have time. I have places for only 4 people in this bunker, including, obviously myself. We have to make a fair decision!”

“And including me,” Mark, the bodyguard inserts.

“Listen, Vasilii Ilyich,” Kirill steps forward. He is a 28-year old businessman whose hobby is amateur shooting and who has a license to keep a gun, “I apologize for sounding harsh, but you’re old and sick and might die soon. No offense, but why not give the bunker to my family?”

Ivan melancholically looks at Alexandra who is staring at Kirill’s cold and ruthless face in disbelief.

“Wait!” Pavel, a tall mayor of the police, says, approaching Kirill and pointing index finger at him, “After the nuclear war we will need to increase our population. If only your family occupies the bunker, how will your children reproduce? I bet it will be better for genome if your daughter, me, my brother Dima, and your wife took places there.”

Ivan glances at the little 10-year old girl. She is hiding her face, pressing it against her Mom’s belly. Poor child, Ivan thinks with pity, She didn’t have time to live… Then he looks at Dima who is shifting from foot to foot and is not rising his eyes from his boots. Dima is Pavel’s brother; there is a difference almost in 20 years between them. Hmm… Dima… it seems that he is no older than 20. Poor guy. He is so similar to Andrey. He remembers how many years ago 18-year old Andrey, son of Ivan’s friend, was kidnapped, and his organs were transported to the black market. The innocent youth died, while others could live. Ivan knew Andrey very well, treated him with love as he would have treated own child. The pain that tortured Ivan’s heart after the tragedy is still present inside.

“Don’t you dare…” Kirill exclaims and tries to hit Pavel, but the latter’s reaction is as fast as a flash and he hits the attacker in face. Kirill falls on the ground, Alyona screams, kids cry out, “Daddy!”

“Damn it! Calm down!” the bodyguard Mark orders, pointing the gun at Pavel. Meanwhile, an old man with shaggy grey hair and large beard approaches Pavel and murmurs, “I can’t believe it, son! You want to leave your parents outside?”

“Calm down, Mark,” the former deputy recommends and announces, “I will take only women into the bunker.”

He approaches Alexandra and pets her on the shoulder, “You.” Then he pets Masha on the shoulder, “You and your Mommy.”

“What?” Mark lowers the gun, looking shocked, “You aren’t taking me?” He keeps murmuring, “I can’t believe it…”

“Why would I? I don’t need competitors,” the former deputy looks with adoration at Alexandra’s gracious body. Ivan notices it, but feels indifferent, as if he was falling into the abyss.

“No! No!” Alexandra screams and folds her hands in a desperate pleading gesture, “You have to take Ivan! He’s a cardiac surgeon! He’s known all over the country! We need a doctor!” She stares at Ivan in panic.

A wave of depression overwhelms Ivan, and he mutters:

“Kids must live. Vasilii Ilyich, I recommend that you give place to kids, Dima and Alexandra. Sasha is a psychologist. She’ll help the kids to deal with stress. The kids must live. It’s our duty to protect them. Any one of us, adults, might die from a heart attack tomorrow. Death is inevitable, and the probability of it is higher for us then for kids. Don’t be afraid of death. Face it with bravery.”

“I think, you’re driving nuts,” the old man with disheveled hair and beard lights a cigarette. He steps forward and introduces himself in a powerful voice as if he expects everyone to bow their heads, acknowledging his authority, “my name is Oleg, and I am the father of Pavel and Dima. Here is my wife – Irina. I have been breaking my back for the motherhood at the factory all my life. Irina used to work as a librarian. We’re both retired now. Pavel is a renowned mayor of police who serves the government with honesty. My family deserves places in the bunker.”

“Oleg,” Irina Georgievna says in a quiet but well-modulated and clear voice. Her discerning eyes are looking at everyone from behind glittering glasses. For a brief moment it seems to Ivan that she is capable of reading minds, “Pasha has always been quite cynical, but now I agree with him and with this surgeon. There’s no place for us in the bunker. The young have to live. Dear Vasilii Ilyich, I only beg you to give two places for my sons. And if you have heart, you will save these little innocent kids,” she points her trembling finger at the little boy and girl who are hugging their mother and whimpering.

“If I have the heart,” Vasilii Ilyich smirks and locks his cold ruthless eyes with Irina Georgievna’s tear-soaked eyes, “I’m afraid, I don’t. Let’s go, girls!” He looks at Alexandra, Alyona and Masha in an imperious way.

Suddenly a gunshot sounds. Ivan sees how a spot of blood appears on Vasilii Ilyich’s chest, in the place where seconds ago his heart was beating. The spot enlarges rapidly, soaking into the former deputy’s T-shirt. The man’s eyes roll upwards, he staggers and collapses, facing down. Terrified screams fill the air. Ivan stares at Mark who is still holding the gun in his stretched arms.

“I am the one to decide who gets into the damn bunker,” Mark warns, looking at the shocked crowd. There is a mix of bestial fear and aggression in his face.

Another gunshot deafens Ivan. He wonders who fired since Mark did not pull the trigger. Immediately he notices a bleeding hole in Mark’s forehead. The bodyguard’s eyes become glassy and he falls on the ground. Ivan turns around and sees how Kirill points his gun at Pavel who raises his hands. It turns out that the businessman has been hiding the weapon in the inner pocket of his jacket throughout the whole debate. Irina rushes forward and takes the place between Kirill and her son Pavel. There is a readiness for self-sacrifice visible in her eyes.  

“If anyone moves, I will shoot!” Kirill shouts, “Alyona, get the keys and take the kids inside!”

Alyona as pale as a ghost rushes to the body of the former deputy. With trembling hands, she turns him over and searches the pockets for keys.

Alexandra shakes Ivan’s arm. She pleads, “Let’s run to the basement!”

However, Ivan cannot move. He is staring at Kirill’s desperate eyes that are rushing about.

“Is it fair that the murderer should get the best chance of survival?” he asks. At the moment, he is completely emotionless. He does not comprehend how an adult can refuse to sacrifice himself for the survival of the young. Ivan is sure that if he was on Kirill’s place, he would have given the place to Dima because he does not want young people to pay with their lives for the problems that he and his generation failed to solve. Ivan looks at Dima’s brown eyes, large lower jaw, straight nose and once again recalls Andrey. A thought about reincarnation enters his mind involuntarily, even though he does not believe in rebirth.

“Shut up! Don’t you see he is mad?!” Alexandra whispers into Ivan’s ear, and pulls him trying to convince him to run to their house. However, Ivan’s calm eyes are locked now with Kirill’s distraught eyes. The businessman lowers the gun, makes several steps towards the surgeon. Kirill is entirely focused on Ivan.

“What did you say?” Kirill shouts, “Did you call me a murderer? I am not! I am protecting my family! And humanity needs me! I’m a businessman! I am talented and intelligent! No one needs this youth!” he implies Dima, “What has he done to deserve the bunker? These men were scum!” he kicks Vasilii Ilyich’s body, “When this jerk was a deputy, he stole our money! This bodyguard…”   

“Careful!” Ivan shouts, noticing that the mayor of the police, Pavel, has taken his gun from his jacket and is aiming it at Kirill.

The businessman turns around, but it is too late. The bullet hits Kirill. He drops the gun and places his hand on his stomach. The blood streams through his trembling fingers. Another bullet brings him down. Pavel, holding the smoking gun in his right hand, rushes towards the bunker where Alyona and the children have already disappeared. Ivan chases after him.

“Lock the door!” he shouts to Alyona who is staring at Pavel. Her eyes are wide open. She cannot move. Pavel stops, aims at her. At the moment when Ivan is ready to hit Pavel, he turns and pulls the trigger. Ivan feels burning pain. He is amused when he discovers himself lying on the ground, facing the locked doors of the bunker, into which Pavel is hammering with his fists.

Alexandra’s face distorted with pain appears as if out of fog. She is caressing Ivan’s shoulders. She cannot stop tears.

“Please, care after yourself… You have to live…” Ivan whispers, feeling how strength leaves him rapidly. “I am not sure, it’s the justice I was seeking for… I don’t know if there is justice at all…”

He watches after Dima who runs up to Pavel, shakes him and shouts something. Ivan is not sure if he sees Dima or the beloved son of his friend who was murdered decades ago. These doubts are caused by delirium of unbearable pain. The brothers Pavel and Dima run away from the bunker. The mushroom cloud is visible on the horizon. Alexandra kisses Ivan’s cold forehead and disappears from his eyesight. The civil defense sirens are still wailing in an indifferent empty high pitch.

Ivan’s consciousness initiates a debate. There’s no guarantee that justice as I see it is real justice. What was the point in trying to defend it? We’ll all be forgotten anyways. Maybe, a murderer deserves to live, and an innocent youth should die… Ivan uses the remnants of his strength to tell the grey sky above him, “However, I don’t think so…”

These are Ivan’s last words. Then, darkness and silence of death eradicate his consciousness.