To my mind, civilized people ought to satisfy the following conditions:
1. They respect the individual and are therefore always indulgent,
gentle, polite and compliant. They do not throw a tantrum over a hammer
or a lost eraser. When they move in with somebody, they do not act as if
they were doing him a favor, and when they move out, they do not say,
"How can anyone live with you!" They excuse noise and cold and overdone
meat and witticisms and the presence of others in their homes.
2. Their compassion extends beyond beggars and cats. They are hurt even
by things the naked eye can't see. If for instance, Pyotr knows that his
father and mother are turning gray and losing sleep over seeing their
Pyotr so rarely (and seeing him drunk when he does turn up), then he
rushes home to them and sends his vodka to the devil. They do not sleep
nights the better to help the Polevayevs, help pay their brothers'
tuition, and keep their mother decently dressed.
3. They respect the property of others and therefore pay their debts.
4. They are candid and fear lies like the plague. They do not lie even
about the most trivial matters. A lie insults the listener and debases
him in the liar's eyes. They don't put on airs, they behave in the
street as they do at home, and they do not try to dazzle their
inferiors. They know how to keep their mouths shut and they do not force
uninvited confidences on people. Out of respect for the ears of others
they are more often silent than not.
5. They do not belittle themselves merely to arouse sympathy. They do
not play on people's heartstrings to get them to sigh and fuss over
them. They do not say, "No one understands me!" or "I've squandered my
talent on trifles!" because this smacks of a cheap effect and is vulgar,
false and out-of-date.
6. They are not preoccupied with vain things. They are not taken in by
such false jewels as friendships with celebrities, handshakes with
drunken Plevako, ecstasy over the first person they happen to meet at
the Salon de Varietes, popularity among the tavern crowd. They laugh
when they hear, "I represent the press," a phrase befitting only
Rodzeviches and Levenbergs. When they have done a penny's worth of work,
they don't try to make a hundred rubles out of it, and they don't boast
over being admitted to places closed to others. True talents always
seek obscurity. They try to merge with the crowd and shun all
ostentation. Krylov himself said that an empty barrel has more chance of
being heard than a full one.
7. If they have talent, they respect it. They sacrifice comfort, women,
wine and vanity to it. They are proud of their talent, and so they do
not go out carousing with trade-school employees or Skvortsov's guests,
realizing that their calling lies in exerting an uplifting influence on
them, not in living with them. What is more, they are fastidious.
8. They cultivate their aesthetic sensibilities. They cannot stand to
fall asleep fully dressed, see a slit in the wall teeming with bedbugs,
breathe rotten air, walk on a spittle-laden floor or eat off a kerosene
stove. They try their best to tame and ennoble their sexual instinct...
What they look for in a woman is not a bed partner or horse sweat, [...]
not the kind of intelligence that expresses itself in the ability to
stage a fake pregnancy and tirelessly reel off lies. They—and especially
the artists among them—require spontaneity, elegance, compassion, a
woman who will be a mother... They don't guzzle vodka on any old
occasion, nor do they go around sniffing cupboards, for they know they
are not swine. They drink only when they are free, if the opportunity
happens to present itself. For they require a mens sana in corpore sano.
And so on. That's how civilized people act. If you want to be civilized
and not fall below the level of the milieu you belong to, it is not
enough to read The Pickwick Papers and memorize a soliloquy from Faust. It is not enough to hail a cab and drive off to Yakimanka Street if all you're going to do is bolt out again a week later.
You must work at it constantly, day and night. You must never stop
reading, studying in depth, exercising your will. Every hour is
precious.
Acesta este un fragment din scrisoarea tanarului Cehov (26 de ani), catre fratele lui. Asa cum parerea lui Shakespeare despre teatru o aflam in Hamlet, in "Speak the speech", tot asa putem privi aceste randuri ca pe o "Declaratie" de intentii a scriitorului rus. Cu multi ani inainte, cineva deosebit imi tot spunea "nu poti sa fii civilizat daca nu citesti clasicii, mai ales pe cei rusi si pe cei francezi; te ajuta sa te formezi".
Intr-adevar, acesti clasici: Balzac, Tolstoi, Dostoievski, Cehov si altii respira civilizatie.
In afara de carti, ce face pentru noi cinematografia? Cat ne aduce din aceste suflu? Rusii au cateva filme care pastreaza "civilzatia". Ceilalti, americanii mai ales, au transformat aceste lucrari in putinele ocazii aparute. Dupa cum spuneam la "Numele Trandafirului", de multe ori decupeaza epicul, sau o parte din el si arunca tot restul.
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