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Springer Geography
Borderology:
Cross-disciplinary
Insights from the
Border Zone
Along the Green Belt
Springer Geography
The Springer Geography series seeks to publish a broad portfolio of scientific
books, aiming at researchers, students, and everyone interested in geographical
research. The series includes peer-reviewed monographs, edited volumes, text-
books, and conference proceedings. It covers the entire research area of geography
including, but not limited to, Economic Geography, Physical Geography,
Quantitative Geography, and Regional/Urban Planning.
Editors
Borderology:
Cross-disciplinary Insights
from the Border Zone
Along the Green Belt
123
Editors
Jan Selmer Methi Małgorzata Bieńkowska
Faculty of Education and Arts University of Białystok
Nord University Białystok, Poland
Bodø, Nordland Fylke, Norway
Basia Nikiforova
Andrei Sergeev Lithuanian Culture Research Institute
Murmansk Arctic State University Vilnius, Lithuania
Murmansk, The Murmansk Area, Russia
This Springer imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Preface
v
vi Preface
vii
viii Contents
ix
x Contributors
1
The sixth seminar was held in March 2018.
2
Philosophy in the Border Zone (through the Eyes of Russian and Norwegian Participants). Edited
by Viggo Rossvaer and Andrei Sergeev. Oslo, Orkana Akademisk, 2015.
xi
xii Editors’ Introduction
Breaker of the Border” emphasizes that borders are established in the parameters of
our mind and are established by our mind; therefore, the imagination can be
regarded as both the universal “violator” of borders and as their creator. It was as
early as the time of mythological consciousness that the natural began to be
involved in both the dialectic of the functioning of everyday practices, and in the
procedures of their cognition. In Irina Gorina’s article “Myth on the Border
Between Man and Nature” the process of the symbolization of the natural world in
mythological consciousness is considered in which myth becomes a means of
domesticating and humanizing the world, whereas the imbalances in the interaction
between Man and Nature coincide with eschatological motifs.
The functioning of established borders gives rise to a major problem, that of
communication. In Andrei Kopylov’s article “Translation in a Hermeneutical
Context: Transforming Culture and Human Nature Through Ethics” communica-
tion is considered in the context of one’s attitude towards the Other where the
ethical aspect of understanding becomes one of the attributes of hermeneutical
procedures. A multidimensional reflection on the internal borders of the human
being is presented in Andrei Sergeev’s article “The Need for Being Disinterested as
a Key Characteristic of Human Nature”: the author considers the need for per-
forming disinterested actions, something that has an intrinsic ethical component, as
one of the main ways of making a transition from what is contingent and particular
to what is integral and one’s own.
Yulian Konstantinov
Abstract The groundwork of this paper comes from 3 months of research in the
reindeer-husbandry part of the Kola Peninsula (March–May 2016). I examined the
variety of uses of the ‘wild nature’ concept among three groups of tundra-focussed
actors (‘oligarchs’, ‘old bosses’ and ‘city anglers’). They fall on both sides of a
‘dominating/dominated’ class division in the context of post-Soviet reality. The
findings suggest a reassessment of the position, inherent in critiques of ‘nature-
culture’ dichotomies, according to which they are conceptually born exclusively for
the purposes of domination. Uses of tundra space, firmly separated from an urban
antipode, reveal motivations of dominance by empowered actors. At the same time,
uses through which disempowered actors attain access to appealing alternative
cosmologies can also be seen. Such diverse uses of tundra space I examine through
their realizations in terms of tundra access and mobility. I show that a
dichotomizing town-tundra (‘culture-nature’) division is perceived as necessary for
all of them, but for different reasons. This calls for reassessing existing critiques of
culture-nature bounderism. Its conceptual roots as well as instrumental motivations
are in need of examination beyond current privileging of empowered actors as
exclusive agents. The role of disempowered actors for sustaining culture-nature
dichotomies, their diverse conceptualizations and forms of agency need also to be
considered.
Note: Unpublished or rare texts are marked PA (personal archive) and can be accessed by
writing to the author at <konstantinovyulian01@gmail.com>
Y. Konstantinov (&)
Bulgarian Society for Regional Cultural Studies, Sofia, Bulgaria
e-mail: konstantinovyulian01@gmail.com
Theoretical Issues
In this paper,1 attention is drawn to a particular problem with what can be called a
‘domination bias’ in critiques of boundary constructivism: namely, their privileging
of empowered subjecthood. Below I clarify this point and state my reasons.
As it is well known, a principal tenet in critiques of boundary constructivism is
that a theoretical tradition, anchored in the binaries of the Enlightenment and its
main divide between nature and culture, is anachronistic as it imposes the seeing of
variety through a single analytical lens: that of a Western (European) colonizing
culture. (Cf. Bessire and Bond 2014: 1) Hence an appeal, inherent in the ‘onto-
logical turn’ (i.e. Descola 2013), for addressing alterity on its own terms, thus
heralding, in the words of Marshall Sahlins, ‘a new anthropological dawn’ (2013:
xii). I would add here in parenthesis that such an appeal was made at the very dawn
of American Cultural Anthropology itself. Namely, when it was realized by Franz
Boas that American Indian languages and the world views of their speakers cannot
be understood and should not be described in terms of the analytical categories
(syntactical and morphological) inherited from Latin grammar. Neither their views
of the world should be understood in the categories of the researchers’ contem-
porary Euro-American culture. The appeal that we should look ‘firmly within the
bounded terrain of the Other’ (Bessire and Bond 2014: 1) thus bears the mark of
familiarity, which, nonetheless, does not detract from its power of persuasion.
What I find problematic, however, is a particular outcome, most categorically
stated in political ecological writing of the past decades. In the writing of Donna
Haraway, for instance this type of critique further extends to Western dualisms, in
general, and against their main thrust of ensuring, in her words of ‘One’s domi-
nation of the Others: women, lower class people, non-whites, and all those whose
task is to mirror the unitary self’ (Harraway 1991: 177). The collective subjecthood
of this ‘One’ bears, correspondingly, the features of ‘male’, ‘higher class people’,
‘whites’ and all those empowered beings that comprise the self that is mirrored.
This collective subjecthood is, in other words, that of the power-holders, the
empowered and the dominating. A hard and fast culture-nature boundary is seen,
consequently, to place the dominant on the culture side of the binary, while the
‘weak’ (sensu Scott 1985) are on the nature one. Or, as it was classically phrased by
Sherry Ortner in reference to gender, ‘Female is to male, as nature is to culture’
(Ortner 1974).
Within what I have called above the ‘domination bias’ in critiques of boundary
constructivism, a counter, deconstructive thrust follows the basic tenets of the
ontological turn. Namely, by claiming that in the real world the binary of culture as
different from nature does not exist, it is proposed that what does exist—on the
1
Field-research was supported by ‘Humans and the tundra nature of the Kola North: interactive
social practices’, Research Project No. 17-13-51601, supported by the Government of Murmansk
Region and the Russian State Science Fund (RGNF) in 2017, following the results of the Regional
Competition ‘The Russian North: History, Modernity, Prospects’.
On Uses of ‘Wild Nature’: Empowered … 5
2
Literary premonitions of perspectivism can be seen in the works of French writer Marcel Proust.
In the 1920s, he wrote: ‘The only true voyage of discovery, (…), would be not to visit strange
lands but to possess other eyes, to behold the universe through the eyes of another, of a hundred
others, to behold the hundred universes that each of them beholds, that each of them is (…)’.
(Proust 2006: Vol. II, 657).
3
For a critique of this view Bessire and Bond (2014).
4
For the origins of the concept, see Zadeh (1965) on ‘fuzzy sets’, Lakoff (1973) on ‘fuzzy
concepts’.
6 Y. Konstantinov
The Setting
The Actors
I have divided them into three groups: ‘oligarchs’, ‘old bosses’ and ‘city anglers’,
with the current generation of reindeer herders as background actors.
5
Whenever possible I have changed designations, place name, and personal names in an effort to
preserve a degree of anonymity of my informants.
6
On such camps Konstantinov (2016), Ogarkova (2007), Osherenko (1998).
On Uses of ‘Wild Nature’: Empowered … 7
The ‘oligarchs’, representing new power over the territory, had as a central
figure Andrey,7 the businessman renting the former Meteorological Station. This for
a symbolic sum, as the rumour went among the herders. The takeover, as tundra
rumour also had it, had been achieved thanks to Andrey’s connections with
influential persons in the regional administration, as well as with the help of a
high-orbit ‘real oligarch’ from Moscow. The new owner and his rich and influential
friends, who came to the Station for fishing and hunting trips were generally dubbed
‘the oligarchs’ by the reindeer herders. I follow this usage here.
The ‘old bosses’ were the former heads of the Station and Reindeer Herding
Team X, respectively. They were both old-age pensioners8 by the time of the study
and had come to fish for a month as guests of the current reindeer-herding team.
Naturally, both of them—Dad Vasya and Uncle Kolya as the younger reindeer
herders would respectfully address them—deeply resented their fall in status. Still,
some sort of peaceful coexistence was maintained between the ‘bottom’ (the
reindeer-herding camp) and the ‘top’ (the ‘oligarchs’ lodge) of the hill.
The third group was of two young anglers from Murmansk: Ivan (Vanya), an
engineer, working in the Fishing Port of Murmansk, and his friend and colleague
from the Port—Gennadiy (Gena). Vanya and Gena were both in their mid-30s,
passionate anglers, spending practically all their weekends and other stretches of
spare time on angling outings near Murmansk. This was their first time so deep into
the tundra. ‘It is only recently I could finally buy the (Yamaha) ‘Viking’ (snow-
mobile) so we could get here‘, Vanya explained when the topic was broached, ‘and
Gena still cannot afford to get one. We are not like those up there (na verhu)
(pointing with his hand in the general direction of the Station) with all the
machinery and petrol up to here (a gesture across his throat)’.
This event, which happened soon after the arrival of Vanya and Gena, illustrated
who had control over the territory in the new times. Although the city anglers were
not affected by it themselves, it was their descriptions and discussions of it that
forcibly related an important message. Namely, that they resisted intrusion into the
tundra by people like the ‘oligarchs’ or other potential leaseholders. This resistance
was for the sake of preserving the tundra in its ‘wild’ state and thus allowing its use
as a way to access reality sharply different from their daily urban one. I describe the
case in some detail.
Vassiliy-Ty is a lake in the NE part of the grazing range of ‘Tundra’, in the
spring–autumn pastures of the reindeer herding team in my story. During the
heyday of Soviet reindeer husbandry and until late after its demise, reindeer herders
8
Note that the current pensioning-off age in reindeer husbandry is 50 years.
8 Y. Konstantinov
considered it their own prized fishing location. Many parts of the herding calendar
were organized in view of fishing there.
Following these established ways, the two former bosses, Dad Vasya and Uncle
Kolya, drove by snowmobile to the lake, but just as they were about to set their nets
under the ice, two private guards—chopovtsy9—suddenly swooped on them on
some rather fancy-looking snowmobiles. Didn’t they know the lake was off-limits
without a ‘special arrangement’?
Kolya and Vasya did not know the guards themselves, but the manager of the
salmon fishing company, which had exclusive rights of this part of the territory, was
known to Kolya from former Soviet days. This was used as an instrument to bear on
the situation. Consulting between themselves a little, the guards announced the
following decision: for old times’ sake, let Kolya and Vasya set their nets and fish
the lake, but on the eastern side only and for not more than three days. If they
caught them on the lake after that, the conversation would be ‘difficult’, as they put
it.
It so happened, that during the three days allowed, two track vehicles (vezde-
khodi) of the Cooperative had arrived at the Base, there was much celebrating (i.e.
drinking) at the huts, as brigade traditions required it, and in result, Kolya and
Vasya were fit enough to see to their nets only on the fourth day. But when they got
there, the nets had been already gathered in and taken away. The guards had been
true to their word: three days, but no more.
While the former bosses were having their troubles at Vassiliy-Ty, the ‘oli-
garchs’ had gone out on an outing for salmon at the much prized and well guarded
Vostochnaya Litsa Lake. A few days after that, they stopped by my camp, where
the city anglers happened also to be. ‘How was it at the Litsa?’, they asked, ‘were
there any guards prowling?’. ‘Oh, yes, they came, sure enough’, Andrey answered.
‘And what?’ ‘We reached an agreement’ was the answer.
The expression ‘to reach an agreement’ (‘my dogovorilis’) is worthy of attention
here. In all probability, what it meant was that it was made known to the lake guards
in question, who the oligarchs were and, in particular, with what people they were
connected at the higher rungs of the regional administration. It also contains the hint
of a bribe given, as when, for instance a controlling organ—like road police—
would find fault with a driver. We all three discussed it afterwards together with the
former bosses when they came to see us. They were of the opinion that it was
enough to mention the oligarch from Moscow to make the guards change their tone.
9
From ChOP, acronym for Chastnoe Okhranitel’noe Predpriyatie (Private Protection Enterprise).
On Uses of ‘Wild Nature’: Empowered … 9
The second profile event was the coming of a helicopter: a big Mi-8 machine of a
private company. The aircraft landed at the helicopter pad of the Station, which was
part of its older infrastructure. Since the Station used to have the status of ‘difficult
to reach’ (trudnodostupnaya), while it existed, it was often that helicopters landed
on that pad: either to bring people or goods to the Station, or in connection with the
needs of the reindeer herding camp below. The herders remembered nostalgically
that helicopters in those days, when the price of petrol was of little concern, would
fly back and forth even on ‘small errands’ (po melocham). Examples would be
quoted of helicopters bringing in parts of personal belongings left behind in the
village. ‘The coal for heating the Station would come in by helicopter’, Dad Vasya
remembered during this particular conversation. ‘Small things also: the pilots were
glad for an excuse to do some trout-fishing or get fish or (reindeer) meat from us’.
For the young anglers from town, all of this was new. They had grown up during
the time when petrol had already become a serious concern, as it was for them right
at that moment: they had estimated that on the petrol they had, they could hardly
make it back to the village. The contrast with the previous liberal times was
painfully accentuated. ‘So these lords (bare) up there, they can summon helicopters
just like that? To bring them spares?’ It had become known, by that time, that the
helicopter had been summoned to bring a new gearbox for the oligarchs’ ATV.
Uncle Kolya had learned it from Ivan Ivanich: one of Andrey’s servants. ‘Yes, like
that’ Uncle Kolya flicked his thumb against his forefinger. ‘They drive all over the
tundra also: they have the petrol and also the connections’.
Metaphors
Petrol and connections summed up metonymically the new order in the tundra.
They stood for wealth and power. The group of the ‘lords’ above represented the
new order in their tightly knit group of business people (‘oligarchs’) and admin-
istrators (state employees, chinovniki). For various different reasons, all of those
‘below’, i.e. at the Base by the bank of the Lake and at my camp, had found
themselves to be outsiders in a newly structured tundra universe, or even tres-
passers, as the Vassiliy-Ty incident illustrated. For the former tundra bosses and the
reindeer herders in general this was a very sore point. During the previous order,
they had been publicly celebrated as ‘custodians of the tundra’ (khozyaeva tundry).
It was, as it were, their native element and a territory under their control. For the
young anglers, those were days dimly remembered, but they also felt themselves
deprived of being barred from engaging in pursuits of an encounter with ‘wild
nature’. As I illustrate shortly, the newly powerful expressed and acted out their
motivations in a similar way. The motif of ‘othering nature’ could be seen, there-
fore, to override the new class divisions.
10 Y. Konstantinov
The coming and going of the helicopter did not merit much discussion at the
Base. It was remembered that Volodya, the big shot from Moscow and Andrey’s
friend and patron, had once arrived in his own helicopter, as it befitted an oligarch
of his rank. The immediately pragmatic side of the matter was, however, what
oriented conversations: the fact the Mi-8 had brought in a considerable amount of
petrol. Among the constantly petrol hungry herding community, this was a matter
of utmost attention: it meant the ability to move both for contacting herd fragments,
strewn over the tundra, and fishing in trout and salmon spots, closer to the Barents
Coast. Using Uncle Kolya’s connections with the oligarchs’ servants, particularly
with Ivan Ivanich, a plea was made for getting three hundred litres on credit. This
was granted by the oligarchs at 50 roubles the litre.10 Speedy preparations for the
trip began. To my questions about how they would tackle the various private guards
who may intercept them, they proffered a valid reason. This was the herding ter-
ritory of the Brigade and they had all the right to do their herding business there.
The helicopter affair and its ramifications impressed the young urban anglers.
How the tundra was parcelled out to various private interests they knew in prin-
ciple, but here they were looking at it directly, day by day. The summing up of this
new experience was done by Vanya. While we were discussing the possibility for
them to ask the oligarchs for 50 litres of petrol to get back to Lovozero, he said:
‘You see, we can’t be like them, it is too late in the day now, and we wouldn’t have
done it anyway. For us fishing means something else, another reality’.
This was a crucial statement in my view. What Vanya was saying was that they
would not have not chosen the ways of vertical mobility of the ‘oligarchs’, i.e. of
rising from petty trading to vegetable wholesaling (as was Andrey’s case), or
becoming pig-feed kings (as that of the Moscow oligarch). Or more precisely, as
they had heard it from the herders: of using connections from former Komsomol
days to buy at Soviet prices on credit, and sell at the new liberated prices after the
reforms of early 1992. These ways to make the millions were memories of the past
now, but for them they were ‘not interesting’, as they put it, meaning they were
morally untouchable for them. ‘For us the tundra is a chance to get out of such
things, it is a parallel reality. We can still find spots in it where these types have not
reached, but the spots are getting fewer every day’.
It is to be noted at this point that in all such conversations and with all groups
concerned—the urban anglers, the herders, the former bosses, and finally: the oli-
garchs—‘tundra’ stood for ‘nature’, or rather: for ‘wild nature’. In the conversations
with all four groups, the use of the term implied distancing oneself from a refer-
entially critical locus, and in this initially geographical way, establishing an
opposition. The themes differed and, consequently, the terms that captured the
opposite end of the dichotomies. For the herders, it would be ‘the settlement’
(poselyok), from which they commuted to the ‘tundra’ for performing various
official and private tasks, intricately mixed with one another. This theme paralleled
10
The average price of petrol (A 95) was RBL 33/l. at this time, so the oligarchs did not raise the
price excessively.
On Uses of ‘Wild Nature’: Empowered … 11
the one of the OAPs, with the additional nuances of their case. Namely, that the
settlement was not so attractive anymore for them—as it was for the much younger,
working herders––while the Base by the Lake and the surrounding tundra territory
was the place where they had spent their lives. They wished if not to return to live
permanently there, at least to have the opportunity to be there at exciting fishing or
berry-picking times.
In the case of the oligarchs, the opposite pole was described in terms of the
enormous stress that a crushing load of work big business imposed. The
self-representation was of hard-working people. They had to overcome the negative
effects of the present period of economic crisis, when people had less money to
spend. Another major obstacle, according to them, was the mentality of employees.
‘These are the same old soviet beings (sovki) of before.11 ‘Andrey would complain.
‘I am sick and tired of repeating that I am not a Soviet factory from which you can
pilfer as much as you like and pretend to work. It is a private business, in which I
have invested my life. The tundra is the only place where I can get away for a while
from tension and stress. Some people go abroad, to Egypt, Spain, such places.
I prefer to come here with my friends. Here we charge our batteries! (zdes’
zaryazhaemsya)’.
The world of the city and business activities was thus described as stressful and
one from which escape routes were being sought, ones leading, in the particular
case, to the tundra and its opportunities for engaging with ‘real things’(nastoy-
ashchye veshchi), ones that befitted real men. ‘I often take my son on such trips’,
Andrey went on ‘let him learn to be a man’.
In this particular narrative, the tundra was represented as a ‘get away’ place, an
alternative reality with its particular attractions. City-life or ‘civilization’ was
portrayed as a place or reality inhabited by necessity, as it were, the attractive place
was here, in the tundra. In a constellation of possible ‘worlds’, or frames of ref-
erence, the centre of gravity in terms of attractions lay here. The latter came out as
ones offered by the kudos of blood-sports: of shooting a spectacular animal like a
bear or moose, or of catching some trophy-calibre salmon, trout or pike.
The poetic trope of representing the ‘wild’ as the place of manly virtues, with the
city as the place of vice, takes us back to the very beginning of what Andrey
referred to as ‘civilization’: to the Gilgamesh epic, or much later to Tacitus’
Germania, through the ‘noble savage’ sentimentalism of the 18th c., the romanti-
cism of the early nineteenth and the Indianomania of the late. And so on, in various
representations, reaching as alive as ever to the present day. Among the multitude
of ideological strands that the contemporary situation I describe leads up to—like
its strongly gendered, ‘manly’ emphasis—I single out here the similarity, and yet
critical difference as it concerned the ‘escape ideology’ of the young anglers, as
well as, in variations of a ‘disempowered’ narrative, of the other actors: the herders,
and the ‘old bosses’.
11
Sovki (sg. sovok) is a Russian pejorative colloquialism for ‘Soviet beings’, i.e. people with
die-hard Soviet mentality, unable to imagine life in other than Soviet terms.
12 Y. Konstantinov
In the young anglers’ narrative, the escape route to the tundra was motivated by
very different reasons compared to those of the oligarchs, retaining the similarity of
the ‘city’ as a place of necessity from which one needs to get away at the least
opportunity. The former Soviet reality was positively represented in the youngsters’
narrative: as a fairer and more virtuous reality, strongly contrasting it with the
present one of lawlessness and greed, in which ‘those like our friends at the top’, (a
gesture towards the Station), ‘do as they please’. The incident with them being able
to ‘reach an agreement’ with the private guards at the Vostochnaya Litsa Lake
would be quoted (in contrast with the confiscation of the pensioners’ nets), as also
the unlimited quantity of petrol at their disposal, their glittering transport machin-
ery, their servants, their summoning of a big transport helicopter at the flick of the
fingers. ‘We are trying to get away from all that’, Vasya summed it up ‘but, as you
see, we are here living next door to them and have to be nice, so they sell us some
petrol’.
A parallel reality thus seemed possible only in case one managed to get to some
‘really wild’ place, beyond the reach of current power-holders. This topic: of where
‘really wild places’ were would be discussed with the herders and the pensioners,
often only to establish the fact that a salmon-fishing lodge for rich foreign and home
clients had already been built there and the surrounding territory was already
off-limits.12 Still, places would be named, in between the stretches of tundra already
appropriated.13 Fabulous places, where birds would alight on your head and ani-
mals look at you in wonder, as they had never seen a human being before.
Whether such places still exist on the Peninsula, or can be reached by some next
to magical means is a matter of speculation, or, more precisely: of dreams. The
important issue is their need to be as a realm of escape. The two city anglers,
together with all others at the Base (including myself), wished to believe that
‘wilderness’ existed and we can reach it. Plans were made and treks discussed. The
vezdekhods had to start back before the tundra became impassable with the spring
thaws. The young anglers’ 2 weeks of leave was reaching its end. The tundra
expedition finished on a hopeful note: the search for the ‘really wild’ stretches
would continue.
Conclusions
I have tried to show in this paper how in a post-Soviet northern context, ‘bound-
ering’—that is, the drawing of a dividing line between ‘wild nature’ (tundra in my
case)—and the spaces that stand in opposition to it, follow desires of those currently
in power, as well as from those of the currently disempowered. Those ‘at the top’
(in my case: at the former Station) reiterate the script of an age-long political
12
On high price-range salmon-fishing camps see Note 6.
On similar ‘intersticiality’ in a Siberian context Anderson (2006).
13
On Uses of ‘Wild Nature’: Empowered … 13
References
Anderson DG (2006) Is Siberian reindeer herding in crisis? Living with reindeer fifteen years after
the end of state socialism. Nomadic Peoples NS 10(2):87–104
Archer JE (1999) Poaching gangs and violence: the urban-rural divide in nineteenth century
Lancashire. Brit J Criminol 39(1):25–38
14
For general typologies, see von Essen et al. (2014); Eliason (2008, 2012).
14 Y. Konstantinov
II
IN the long, dark room where Dudley Leicester still sprawled in his
deep chair, Katya stopped Robert Grimshaw near the door.
“I’ll ask him to ask you his question,” she said, “and you’ll
answer it in as loud a voice as you can. That’ll cure him. You’ll see. I
don’t suppose you expected to see me here.”
“I didn’t expect it,” he answered, “but I know why you have
come.”
“Well,” she said, “if he isn’t cured, you’ll be hanging round him
for ever.”
“Yes, I suppose I shall be hanging round him for ever,” he
answered.
“And more than that, you’ll be worrying yourself to death over it.
I can’t bear you to worry, Toto,” she said. She paused for a long
minute and then she scrutinized him closely.
“So it was you who rang him up on the telephone?” she said. “I
thought it was, from the beginning.”
“Oh, don’t let’s talk about that any more,” Grimshaw said; “I’m
very tired; I’m very lonely. I’ve discovered that there are things one
can’t do—that I’m not the man I thought I was. It’s you who are
strong and get what you want, and I’m only a meddler who muddles
and spoils. That’s the moral of the whole thing. Take me on your own
terms and make what you can of me. I am too lonely to go on alone
any more. I’ve come to give myself up. I went down to Brighton to
give myself up to you on condition that you cured Dudley Leicester.
Now I just do it without any conditions whatever.”
She looked at him a little ironically, a little tenderly.
“Oh, well, my dear,” she said, “we’ll talk about that when he’s
cured. Now come.”
She made him stand just before Leicester’s sprawled-out feet,
and going round behind the chair, resting her hands already on
Leicester’s hair in preparation for bending down to make, near his
ear, the suggestion that he should put his question, she looked up at
Robert Grimshaw.
“You consent,” she said, with hardly a touch of triumph in her
voice, “that I should live with you as my mother lived with my father?”
And at Robert Grimshaw’s minute gesture of assent: “Oh, well, my
dear,” she continued quite gently, “it’s obvious to me that you’re more
than touched by this little Pauline of ours. I don’t say that I resent it. I
don’t suggest that it makes you care for me any less than you should
or did, but I’m sure, perfectly sure, of the fact such as it is, and I’m
sure, still more sure, that she cares extremely for you. So that ...”
She had been looking down at Dudley Leicester’s forehead, but she
looked up again into Robert Grimshaw’s eyes. “I think, my dear,” she
said slowly, “as a precaution, I think you cannot have me on those
terms; I think you had better”—she paused for the fraction of a
minute—“marry me,” and her fingers began to work slowly upon
Dudley Leicester’s brows. There was the least flush upon her
cheeks, the least smile round the corners of her lips, she heaved the
ghost of a sigh.
“So that you get me both ways,” Robert Grimshaw said; and his
hands fell desolately open at his side.
“Every way and altogether,” she answered.
EPISTOLARY EPILOGUE
“IT was a summer evening four years later when, upon the sands of
one of our most fashionable watering-places, a happy family group,
consisting of a buxom mother and several charming children, might
have been observed to disport itself. Who can this charming matron
be, and who these lovely children, designated respectively Robert,
Dudley, Katya, and Ellida?
“And who is this tall and robust gentleman who, wearing across
the chest of his white cricketing flannel the broad blue ribbon of His
Majesty’s Minister for Foreign Affairs, bearing in one hand
negligently the Times of the day before yesterday and in the other a
pastoral rake, approaches from the hayfields, and, with an indulgent
smile, surveys the happy group? Taking from his mouth his pipe—for
in the dolce far niente of his summer vacation, when not called upon
by his duties near the Sovereign at Windsor, he permits himself the
relaxation of the soothing weed—he remarks:
“‘The Opposition fellows have lost the by-election at Camber.’
“Oblivious of his pipe, the charming matron casts herself upon
his neck, whilst the children dance round him with cries of
congratulation, and the trim nurses stand holding buckets and
spades with expressions of respectful happiness upon their
countenances. Who can this be?
“And who, again, are these two approaching along the sands
with happy and contented faces—the gentleman erect, olive-
skinned, and, since his wife has persuaded him to go clean-shaven,
appearing ten years younger than when we last saw him; the lady
dark and tall, with the first signs of matronly plumpness just
appearing upon her svelte form? They approach and hold out their
hands to the happy Cabinet Minister with attitudes respectively of
manly and ladylike congratulation, whilst little Robert and little Katya,
uttering joyful cries of ‘Godmama’ and ‘Godpapa!’ dive into their
pockets for chocolates and the other presents that they are
accustomed to find there.
“Who can these be? Our friend the reader will have already
guessed. And so, with a moisture at the contemplation of so much
happiness bedewing our eyes, we lay down the pen, pack up the
marionettes into their box, ring down the curtain, and return to our
happy homes, where the wives of our bosoms await us. That we
may meet again, dear reader, is the humble and pious wish of your
attached friend, the writer of these pages.”
Thus, my dear ——, you would have me end this book, after I
have taken an infinite trouble to end it otherwise. No doubt, also, you
would have me record how Etta Hudson, as would be inevitably the
case with such a character, eventually became converted to Roman
Catholicism, and ended her days under the direction of a fanatical
confessor in the practice of acts of the most severe piety and
mortification, Jervis, the butler of Mr. Dudley Leicester, you would
like to be told, remained a humble and attached dependent in the
service of his master; whilst Saunders, Mr. Grimshaw’s man, thinking
himself unable to cope with the duties of the large establishment in
Berkeley Square which Mr. Grimshaw and Katya set up upon their
marriage, now keeps a rose-clad hostelry on the road to Brighton.
But we have forgotten Mr. Held! Under the gentle teaching of Pauline
Leicester he became an aspirant for Orders in the Church of
England, and is now, owing to the powerful influence of Mr. Dudley
Leicester, chaplain to the British Embassy at St. Petersburg.
But since, my dear ——, all these things appear to me to be
sufficiently indicated in the book as I have written it, I must confess
that these additions, inspired as they are by you—but how much
better they would have been had you actually written them! these
additions appear to me to be ugly, superfluous, and disagreeable.
The foxes have holes, the birds of the air have nests, and you,
together with the great majority of British readers, insist upon having
a happy ending, or, if not a happy ending, at least some sort of an
ending. This is a desire, like the desire for gin-and-water or any other
comforting stimulant, against which I have nothing to say. You go to
books to be taken out of yourself, I to be shown where I stand. For
me, as for you, a book must have a beginning and an end. But
whereas for you the end is something arbitrarily final, such as the
ring of wedding-bells, a funeral service, or the taking of a public-
house, for me—since to me a novel is the history of an “affair”—
finality is only found at what seems to me to be the end of that
“affair.” There is in life nothing final. So that even “affairs” never really
have an end as far as the lives of the actors are concerned. Thus,
although Dudley Leicester was, as I have tried to indicate, cured
almost immediately by the methods of Katya Lascarides, it would be
absurd to imagine that the effects of his short breakdown would not
influence the whole of his after-life. These effects may have been to
make him more conscientious, more tender, more dogged, less self-
centred; may have been to accentuate him in a great number of
directions. For no force is ever lost, and the ripple raised by a stone,
striking upon the bank of a pool, goes on communicating its force for
ever and ever throughout space and throughout eternity. But for our
vision its particular “affair” ends when, striking the bank, it
disappears. So for me the “affair” of Dudley Leicester’s madness
ended at the moment when Katya Lascarides laid her hands upon
his temple. In the next moment he would be sane, the ripple of
madness would have disappeared from the pond of his life. To have
gone on farther would have been, not to have ended this book, but to
have begun another, which—the fates being good—I hope to write. I
shall profit, without doubt, by your companionship, instruction, and
great experience. You have called me again and again an
Impressionist, and this I have been called so often that I suppose it
must be the fact. Not that I know what an Impressionist is.
Personally, I use as few words as I may to get any given effect, to
render any given conversation. You, I presume, do the same. You
don’t, I mean, purposely put in more words than you need—more
words, that is to say, than seem to you to satisfy your desire for
expression. You would probably render a conversation thus:
“Extending her hand, which was enveloped in creamy tulle, Mrs.
Sincue exclaimed, ‘Have another cup of tea, dear?’ ‘Thanks—two
lumps,’ her visitor rejoined. ‘So I hear Colonel Hapgood has eloped
with his wife’s French maid!’”
I should probably set it down:
“After a little desultory conversation, Mrs. Sincue’s visitor,
dropping his dark eyes to the ground, uttered in a voice that betrayed
neither exultation nor grief, ‘Poor old Hapgood’s cut it with Nanette.
Don’t you remember Nanette, who wore an apron with lace all round
it and those pocket things, and curled hair?’”
This latter rendering, I suppose, is more vague in places, and in
other places more accentuated, but I don’t see how it is more
impressionist. It is perfectly true you complain of me that I have not
made it plain with whom Mr. Robert Grimshaw was really in love, or
that when he resigned himself to the clutches of Katya Lascarides,
whom personally I extremely dislike, an amiable but meddlesome
and inwardly conceited fool was, pathetically or even tragically,
reaping the harvest of his folly. I omitted to add these comments,
because I think that for a writer to intrude himself between his
characters and his reader is to destroy to that extent all the illusion of
his work. But when I found that yourself and all the moderately quick-
minded, moderately sane persons who had read the book in its
original form failed entirely to appreciate what to me has appeared
as plain as a pikestaff—namely, that Mr. Grimshaw was extremely in
love with Pauline Leicester, and that, in the first place, by marrying
her to Dudley Leicester, and, in the second place, by succumbing to
a disagreeable personality, he was committing the final folly of this
particular affair—when I realized that these things were not plain, I
hastened to add those passages of explicit conversation, those
droppings of the eyelids and tragic motions of the hands, that you
have since been good enough to say have made the book.
Heaven knows, one tries enormously hard to be simple, to be
even transparently simple, but one falls so lamentably between two
stools. Thus, another reader, whom I had believed to be a person of
some intellect, has insisted to me that in calling this story “A Call” I
must have had in my mind something mysterious, something
mystical; but what I meant was that Mr. Robert Grimshaw, putting the
ear-piece to his ear and the mouthpiece to his mouth, exclaimed,
after the decent interval that so late at night the gentleman in charge
of the exchange needs for awaking from slumber and grunting
something intelligible—Mr. Grimshaw exclaimed, “Give me 4259
Mayfair.” This might mean that Lady Hudson was a subscriber to the
Post Office telephone system, but it does not mean in the least that
Mr. Grimshaw felt religious stirrings within him or “A Call” to do
something heroic and chivalrous, such as aiding women to obtain
the vote.
So that between those two classes of readers—the one who
insist upon reading into two words the whole psychology of moral
revivalism, and the others who, without gaining even a glimpse of
meaning, will read or skip through fifty or sixty thousand words, each
one of which is carefully selected to help on a singularly plain tale—
between these two classes of readers your poor Impressionist falls
lamentably enough to the ground. He sought to point no moral. His
soul would have recoiled within him at the thought of adorning by
one single superfluous word his plain tale. His sole ambition was to
render a little episode—a small “affair” affecting a little circle of
people—exactly as it would have happened. He desired neither to
comment nor to explain. Yet here, commenting and explaining, he
takes his humble leave, having packed the marionettes into the
case, having pulled the curtain down, and wiping from his troubled
eyes the sensitive drops of emotion. This may appear to be an end,
but it isn’t. He is, still, your Impressionist, thinking what the devil—
what the very devil—he shall do to make his next story plain to the
most mediocre intelligence!
THE END
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CALL ***