WITHIN THE SEPULCHRE

Within the womb of the established past, the light has entered the

darkness, the future is conceived. It is conceived, the beginning of the

end has taken place. Light is within the grip of darkness, darkness

within the embrace of light, the Beginning and the End are closed upon

one another.

They come nearer and nearer, till the oneness is full grown within the

womb of the past, within the belly of Time, it must move out, must be

brought forth, into timelessness.

But something withholds it. The pregnancy is accomplished, the hour of

labour has come. Yet the labour does not begin. The loins of the past

are withered, the young unborn is shut in.

All the time, within the womb, light has been travelling to the dark,

the interfusion of the two into a oneness has continued. Now that it is

fulfilled, it meets with some arrest. It is the dry walls of the womb

which cannot relax.

There is a struggle. Then the darkness, having overcome the light,

reaching the dead null wall of the womb, reacts into self-consciousness,

and recoils upon itself. At the same time the light has surpassed its

limit, become conscious, and starts in reflex to recoil upon itself.

Thus the false I comes into being: the I which thinks itself supreme and

infinite, and which is, in fact, a sick foetus shut up in the walls of

an unrelaxed womb.

Here, at this moment when the birth pangs should begin, when the great

opposition between the old and the young should take place, when the

young should beat back the old body that surrounds it, and the old womb

and loins should expel the young body, there is a deadlock. The two

cannot fight apart. The walls of the old body are inflexible and

insensible, the unborn does not know that there can be any travelling

forth. It conceives itself as the whole universe, surrounded by dark

nullity. It does not know that it is in prison. It believes itself to

have filled up the whole of the universe, right to the extremes where is

nothing but blank nullity.

It is tremendously conceited. It can only react upon itself. And the

reaction can only take the form of self-consciousness. For the self is

everything, universal, the surrounding womb is just the outer darkness

in which that which _is_, exists. Therefore there remains either to die,

to pass into the outer darkness, or to enter into self-knowledge.

So the unborn recoils upon itself, dark upon dark, light upon light.

This is the horror of corruption begun already within the unborn,

already dissolution and corruption set in before birth. And this is the

triumph of the ego.

Mortality has usurped the Crown. The unborn, reacting upon the null

walls of the womb, assumes that it has reached the limit of all space

and all being. It concludes that its self is fulfilled, that all

consummation is achieved. It takes for certain that itself has filled

the whole of space and the whole of time.

And this is the glory of the ego.

There is no more fight to be fought, there is no more to be sought and

embraced. All is fought and overcome, all is embraced and contained. It

is all concluded, there is nothing remaining but the outer nothingness,

the only activity is the reaction against the outer nothingness, into

the achieved being of the self, all else is fulfilled and concluded. To

die is merely to assume nothingness. The limit of all life is reached.

And this is the apotheosis of the ego.

So there is the great turning round upon the self, dark upon dark, light

upon light, the flux of separation, corruption within the unborn. The

tides which are set towards each other swirl back as from a promontory

which intervenes. There has been no consummation. There can be no

consummation. The only thing is to return, to go back--that which came

from the Beginning to go back to the Beginning, that which came from the

End to return to the End. In the return lies the fulfilment.

And this is the unconscious undoing of the ego.

That which we _are_ is absolute. There is no adding to it, no

superseding this accomplished self. It is final and universal. All that

remains is thoroughly to explore it.

That is, to analyse it. Analysis presupposes a corpse.

It is at this crisis in the human history that tragic art appears again,

that art becomes the only absolute, the only watchword among the people.

This achieved self, which we are, is absolute and universal. There is

nothing beyond. All that remains is to state this self, and the

reactions upon this self, perfectly. And the perfect statement presumes

to be art. It is aestheticism.

At this crisis there is a great cry of loneliness. Every man conceives

himself as a complete unit surrounded by nullity. And he cannot bear it.

Yet his pride is in this also. The greatest conceit of all is the cry of

loneliness.

At this crisis, emotion turns into sentiment, and sentimentalism takes

the place of feeling. The ego has no feeling, it has only sentiments.

And the myriad egos sway in tides of sentimentalism.

But the _tacit_ utterance of every man, when this state is reached, is

“_Après moi le Déluge_.” And when the deluge begins to set in, there is

profound secret satisfaction on every hand. For the ego in a man

secretly hates every other ego. In a democracy where every little ego is

crowned with the false crown of its own supremacy, every other ego is a

false usurper, and nothing more. We can only tolerate those whose crowns

are not yet manufactured, because they can’t _afford_ it.

And again, the supreme little ego in man hates an unconquered universe.

We shall never rest till we have heaped tin cans on the North Pole and

the South Pole, and put up barb-wire fences on the moon. Barb-wire

fences are our sign of conquest. We have wreathed the world with them.

The back of creation is broken. We have killed the mysteries and

devoured the secrets. It all lies now within our skin, within the ego of

humanity.

So circumscribed within the outer nullity, we give ourselves up to the

flux of death, to analysis, to introspection, to mechanical war and

destruction, to humanitarian absorption in the body politic, the poor,

the birth-rate, the mortality of infants, like a man absorbed in his own

flesh and members, looking for ever at himself. It is the continued

activity of disintegration--disintegration, separating, setting apart,

investigation, research, the resolution back to the original void.

All this goes on within the glassy, insentient, insensible envelope of

nullity. And within this envelope, like the glassy insects within their

rind, we imagine we fill the whole cosmos, that we contain within

ourselves the whole of time, which shall tick forth from us as from a

clock, now everlastingly.

We are capable of nothing but reduction within the envelope. Our every

activity is the activity of disintegration, of corruption, of

dissolution, whether it be our scientific research, our social

activity--(the social activity is largely concerned with reducing all

the parts contained within the envelope to an equality, so that there

shall be no unequal pressure, tending to rupture the envelope, which is

divine)--our art, or our anti-social activity, sensuality,

sensationalism, crime, war. Everything alike contributes to the flux of

death, to corruption, and liberates the static data of the

consciousness.

Whatever single act is performed by any man now, in this condition, it

is an act of reduction, disintegration. The scientist in his laboratory,

the artist in his study, the statesman, the artisan, the sensualist

obtaining keen gratification, every one of these is reducing down that

which is himself to its simpler elements, reducing the compound back to

its parts. It is the pure process of corruption in all of us. The

activity of death is the only activity. It is like the decay of our

flesh, and every new step in decay liberates a sensation, keen,

momentarily gratifying, or a conscious knowledge of the parts that made

a whole; knowledge equally gratifying.

It is like Dmitri Karamazov, who seeks and experiences sensation after

sensation, reduction after reduction, till finally he is stripped

utterly naked before the police, and the quick of him perishes. There

_is_ no more any physical or integral Dmitri Karamazov. That which is in

the hospital, afterwards, is a conglomeration of qualities, strictly an

idiot, a nullity.

And Dostoevsky has shown us perfectly the utter subjection of all human

life to the flux of corruption. That is his theme, the theme of

reduction through sensation after sensation, consciousness after

consciousness, until nullity is reached, all complexity is broken down,

an individual becomes an amorphous heap of elements, qualities.

There are the two types, the dark Dmitri Karamazov, or Rogozhin; and the

Myshkin on the other hand. Dmitri Karamazov and Rogozhin will each of

them plunge the flesh within the reducing agent, the woman, obtain the

sensation and the reduction within the flesh, add to the sensual

experience, and progress towards utter dark disintegration, to nullity.

Myshkin on the other hand will react upon the achieved consciousness or

personality or ego of every one he meets, disintegrate this

consciousness, this ego, and his own as well, obtaining the knowledge of

the factors that made up the complexity of the consciousness, the ego,

in the woman and in himself, reduce further and further back, till

himself is a babbling idiot, a vessel full of disintegrated parts, and

the woman is reduced to a nullity.

This is real death. The actual physical fact of death is part of the

life-stream. It is an incidental point when the flux of light and dark

has flowed sufficiently apart for the conjunction, which we call life,

to disappear.

We live with the pure flux of death, it is part of us all the time. But

our blossoming is transcendent, beyond death and life.

Only when we fall into egoism do we lose all chance of blossoming, and

then the flux of corruption is the breath of our existence. From top to

bottom, in the whole nation, we are engaged, fundamentally engaged in

the process of reduction and dissolution. Our reward is sensational

gratification in the flesh, or sensational gratification within the

mind, the utter gratification we experience when we can pull apart the

whole into its factors. This is the reward in scientific and

introspective knowledge, this is the reward in the pleasure of cheap

sensuality.

In each case, the experience remains as it were absolute. It is the

statement of what is, or what was. And a statement of what _is_, is the

absolute footstep in the progress backward towards the starting place,

it is the _undoing_ of a complete unit into the factors which previously

went to making its oneness. It is the reduction of the iris back into

its component waves.

There was the bliss when the iris came into being. There is now the

bliss when the iris passes out of being, and the whole is torn apart.

The secret of the whole is never captured. Certain data are captured.

The secret escapes down the sensual, or the sensational, or

intellectual, thrill of pleasure.

So there goes on reduction after reduction within the shell. And we, who

find our utmost gratification in this process of reduction, this flux of

corruption, this retrogression of death, we will preserve with might and

main the glassy envelope, the insect rind, the tight-shut shell of the

cabbage, the withered, null walls of the womb. For by virtue of this

null envelope alone do we proceed uninterrupted in this process of

gratifying reduction.

And this is utter evil, this secret, silent worship of the null envelope

that preserves us intact for our gratification with the flux of

corruption.

Intact within the null envelope, which we have come to worship as the

preserver of this our life-activity of reduction, we re-act back upon

what we are. We do not seek any more the consummation of union. We seek

the consummation of reduction.

When a man seeks a woman in love, or in positive desire, he seeks a

union, he seeks a consummation of himself with that which is not

himself, light with dark, dark with light.

But within the glassy, null envelope of the enclosure, no union is

sought, no union is possible; after a certain point, only reduction. Ego

reacts upon ego only in friction. There are small egos, many small

people, who have not reached the limit of the confines which we worship.

They may still have small consummation in union. But all those who are

strong and have travelled far have met and reacted from the nullity.

And then, when a man seeks a woman, he seeks not a consummation in

union, but a frictional reduction. He seeks to plunge his compound flesh

into the cold acid that will reduce him, in supreme sensual experience,

down to his parts. This is Rogozhin seeking Nastasia Filippovna, Dmitri

his Grushenka, or D’Annunzio in Fuoco seeking his Foscarina. This is

more or less what happens when a soldier, maddened with lust of pure

destructiveness, violently rapes the woman of his captivity. It is that

he may destroy another being by the very act which is called the act of

creation, or procreation. In the brute soldier it is cruelty-lust: as it

was in the Red Indian. But when we come to civilized man, it is not so

simple. His cruelty-lust is directed almost as much against himself as

against his victim. He is destroying, reducing, breaking down that of

himself which is within the envelope. He is immersing himself within a

keen, fierce, terrible reducing agent. This is true of the hero in Edgar

Allan Poe’s tales, _Ligeia_, or the _Fall of the House of Usher_. The

man seeks his own sensational reduction, but he disintegrates the woman

even more, in the name of love. In the name of love, what horrors men

perpetrate, and are applauded!

It is only in supreme crises that man reaches the supreme pitch of

annihilation. The difference, however, is only a difference in degree,

not in kind. The bank-clerk performs in a mild degree what Poe performed

intensely and deathlily.

These are the men in whom the development is rather low, whose souls are

coarsely compounded, so that the reduction is coarse, a sort of activity

of coarse hate.

But the men of finer sensibility and finer development, sensuous or

conscious, they must proceed more gradually and subtly and finely in the

process of reduction. It is necessary for a finely compounded nature to

reduce itself more finely, to know the subtle gratification of its own

reduction.

A subtle nature like Myshkin’s would find no pleasure of reduction in

connection with Grushenka, scarcely any with Nastasia. He must proceed

more delicately. He must give up his soul to the reduction. It is his

mind, his conscious self he wants to reduce. He wants to dissolve it

back. He wants to become infantile, like a child, to reduce and resolve

back all the complexity of his consciousness, to the rudimentary

condition of childhood. That is his ideal.

So he seeks mental contacts, mental re-actions. It is in his mental or

conscious contacts that he seeks to obtain the gratification of

self-reduction. He reaches his crisis in his monologue of self-analysis,

self-dissolution, in the drawing-room scene where he falls in a fit.

And of course, all this reducing activity is draped in alluring

sentimentalism. The most evil things in the world, today, are to be

found under the chiffon folds of sentimentalism. Sentimentality is the

garment of our vice. It covers viciousness as inevitably as greenness

covers a bog.

With all our talk of advance, progress, we are all the time working

backwards. Our heroines become younger and younger. In the movies, the

heroine is becoming more and more childish, and touched with infantile

idiocy. We cannot bear honest maturity. We want to reduce ourselves

back, back to the _corruptive_ state of childishness.

Now it is all very well for a child to be a child. But for a grown

person to be slimily, pornigraphically reaching out for

child-gratifications, is disgusting. The same with the prevalent love of

boys. It is the desire to be reduced back, reduced back, in our

accomplished ego: always within the unshattered rind of our completeness

and complacency, to go backwards, in sentimentalised disintegration, to

the states of childhood.

And no matter _what_ happens to us, now, we sentimentalise it and use it

as a means of sensational reduction. Even the great war does not alter

our civilization one iota, in its total nature. The form, the whole

form, remains intact. Only inside the complete envelope we writhe with

sensational experiences of death, hurt, horror, reduction.

The goodness of anything depends on the direction in which it is moving.

Childhood, like a bud, striving and growing and struggling towards

blossoming full maturity, is surely beautiful. But childhood as a

_goal_, for which grown people aim: childishness futile and sentimental,

for which men and women lust, and which always retreats when grasped,

like the _ignis fatuus_ of a poisonous marsh of corruption: this is

disgusting.

While we live, we are balanced between the flux of life and the flux of

death. All the while our bodies are being composed and decomposed. But

while every man fully lives, all the time the two streams keep fusing

into the third reality, of real creation. Every new gesture, every

fresh smile of a child is a new emergence into creative being: a glimpse

of the Holy Ghost.

But when grown people start grimacing with childishness, or lusting

after child-gratifications, it is corruption pure and simple.

And the still clear look on an old face, and the stillness of old,

withered hands, which have gathered the long repose of autumn, this is

the purity of the two streams consummated, and the bloom, like autumn

crocuses, of age.

But the painted, silly child-face that old women make nowadays: or the

harpy’s face that many have, lusting for the sensations of youth: the

hard, voracious, selfish faces of old men, seeking their own ends,

devouring the shoots of young life: this is vile.

While we live, we are balanced between the flux of life and the flux of

death. But the real clue is the Holy Ghost, that moves us on into the

state of blossoming. And each year the blossoming is different: from the

delicate blue speedwells of childhood to the equally delicate, frail

farewell flowers of old age: through all the poppies and sunflowers:

year after year of difference.

While we live, we change, and our flowering is a constant change.

But once we fall into the state of egoism, we cannot change. The ego,

the self-conscious ego remains fixed, a final envelope around us. And

we are then safe inside the mundane egg of our own self-consciousness

and self-esteem.

Safe we are! Safe as houses! Shut up like unborn chickens that cannot

break the shell of the egg. That’s how safe we are! And as we can’t be

born, we can only rot. That’s how safe we are!

Safe within the everlasting walls of the egg-shell we have not the

courage, nor the energy, to crack, we fall, like the shut-up chicken,

into a pure flux of corruption, and the worms are our angels.

And mankind falls into the state of innumerable little worms bred within

the unbroken shell: all clamoring for food, food, food, all feeding on

the dead body of creation, all crying peace! peace! universal peace!

brotherhood of man! Everything must be “universal”, to the conquering

worm. It is only _life_ which is different.

V

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