_I and Thou_
The familiar expression, 'to look into another's soul,' which by
force of habit at first sight seems extremely intelligible, on closer
observation appears so unintelligible that one is forced to ask whether
it has any meaning at all. Try to bend, mentally, over another's soul:
you will see nothing but a vast, empty, black abyss, and you will only
be seized with giddiness for your pains. Thus, properly speaking, the
expression 'to look into another's soul' is only an abortive metaphor.
All that we can do is to argue from the outward data to the inward
feelings. From tears we deduce pain, from pallor, fear, from a smile,
joy. But is this to look into another's soul? It is only to give room
to a series of purely logical processes in one's head. The other's soul
remains as invisible as before; we only guess at it, perhaps rightly,
perhaps mistakenly. Naturally this conclusion irritates us. What a
miserable world it is where it is quite impossible to see the very
thing that we desire above all to see. But irritation is almost the
normal spiritual state of a man who thinks and seeks. Whenever it is
particularly important to him to be sure of something, after a number
of desperate attempts he is convinced that his curiosity cannot be
satisfied. And now the mocking mind adds a new question to the old:
Why look for another's soul when you have not seen your own? And is
there a soul? Many have believed and still do believe that there is no
soul at all, but only a science of it, called psychology. It is known
that psychology says nothing of the soul, considering that its task is
confined to the study of spiritual states--states, by the way, which
have as yet hardly been studied at all.... What is the way out? One can
answer irony with irony, or even with abuse. One can deny psychology
the right to be called a science and call the materialists a pack of
fools, as is often done. Incontestably, anger has its rights. But this
has sense and meaning only while you are among people and are listened
to. Nobody wants to be indignant alone with oneself, when one is
not even reckoning upon making use of one's indignation for literary
purposes: for even a writer is not always writing, and is more often
preoccupied with transitory thoughts than with his forthcoming works.
One prefers to approach the enchanted cave, though for the thousandth
time, with every possible precaution. Perhaps it is only upon the
approach of an outside soul that another's soul becomes invisible,
and if she be caught unawares she will not have time to disappear.
So that ponderous psychology, which like any other science always
proclaims its plans and methods aloud before undertaking anything, is
utterly unsuited to the capture of a thing so light and mobile as the
human soul. But let us leave psychology with the honourable name of
science; let us even respect the materialists, while we endeavour to
track down the soul by other means. Perhaps in the depth of the dark
abyss of which we spoke, something might be found, were it not for
the giddiness. Therefore it is not so necessary to invent new methods
as to learn to look fearlessly into the depths, which always appear
unfathomable to the unaccustomed eye.
After all, unfathomability is not so entirely useless to man. It was
driven into our heads as children that the human mind could compass
only those things which are limited. But this only proves that we have
yet another prejudice to get rid of. If it comes to giving up the right
of abusing the materialists and of being taught by psychology, and
something else into the bargain--well, we are used to that. But in
return we may at last be granted a glimpse of the mysterious 'thou,'
and perhaps the 'I' will cease to be problematical as well. Patience
is a sickening thing; but remember the fakirs and the other worthies
of the same kind. They succeed by patience alone. And apparently
they arrive at something; but not at universal truths, I am ready to
vouch for that. The world has long been weary of universal truths.
Even 'truth' pure and simple makes no whisper in my ear. We must find
a way of escape from the power of every kind of truth. This victory
the fakirs tried to win. They can produce no arguments to prove their
right, for the visible victory was never on their side. One conquers
by bayonets, big guns, microscopes and logical arguments. Microscopes
and logic give the palm to limitation. And yet, though limitation often
strengthens, it also happens that it kills.