Today, I'd like to share impressions about a short story, written by Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy : "Diary of a lunatic" and hopefully read your own eventually ! 
If you don't know this text already, please note that it's very short and reads quite easily :

• Russian version : https://rvb.ru/tolstoy/01text/vol_12/01text/0279.htm#google_vignette
• French translation https://www.larevuedesressources.org/notes-d-un-fou,1773.html
• English translation https://involarium.org/story/diary-of-a-lunatic/ or https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Diary_of_a_Lunatic

Tolstoy is, well, intimidating… 
Generally, when one thinks about this author, a 2000 pages book comes to mind, either entitled "War and Peace" or "Anna Karenina" and then we think : "hmm, that's not for me", or "Another day, maybe", a little bit like when we were kids and would put away a book, because it didn't have a single image in it ! Right ? 

It is true that those "big novels" are somewhat uncommon and a bit difficult to get into, mostly for practical reasons actually : with a LOT of characters, each one having 3 to 4 ways of being referred about : surname, last name, patronym and nickname !...

Characters in War and Peace, BBC version

And yet, what quality in it ! Pure Literature, in the noblest sense, thanks to the form, the content of their stories, and the psychological acuteness of the internal monologues, to which Tolstoy resort quite often (and that's just fine).

But there are actually quite a few "little forms" as well, where only the author's name still feels intimidating. And that's how a book full of them remained in our personal library for a few years. 
Fortunately, since I've decided and put into practice (thanks to my dear godfather Guillaume's advices) to read a few pages of literature each day, before sleeping (and sometimes, that even helps !), this book turned to be the ideal candidate.
And there are a few stories in it that might be shared in future posts, most notably :

• Polikushka : a social drama (quite typical of Tolstoy), which stays in the back of one's mind, long after reading it, thanks to its vivid images and the touching characters involved ;
• Kholstomer / the Strider : the story of a horse, also considered as one of the most striking story of Russian literature ;
• The two hussars : a short story taking place in a atmosphere similar to "War and Peace"

But today, I propose to write about "Diary of a lunatic". 
This text is quite short : a dozen pages. To introduce it, let's note two things about it : 

1. Tolstoy wrote it in the years 1884-85 (but it was published after his death). Just to put it into perspective, "War and Peace" was written between 1864-69, while "Anna Karenina" was from 1870-77. It suffices to state that Tolstoy was, at 56 years old, in his full literary capacities 
2. He wanted to entitle it, initially, "the diary of a non-lunatic"… and indeed who's mad here ? But, this all too easy clue somewhat contradicted the key idea in this story, as the main protagonist admits willingly to be a lunatic, because everyone seems to agree about it. 

In this story, a man explains his situation to the reader, beginning with his life circumstances which made him a "lunatic". 
Obviously, in my humble opinion, his lunacy is mostly a question of perception from a rigid social and family environment, which can't tolerate that anybody sees the world differently. Uses and habits are the norm, and the norm is congruous, by definition. Vice and lust being of use in the society - and having being experienced by our narrator in a previous life - they are considered as "normal" and as clear signs of a life and mental health according to the standards.

But when our man feels, even in his childhood, great pain watching paradoxes and contrasts of a puritan society, which acts contrary to what it preaches, or when he witnesses gratuitous violence, he feels very alone and finally thinks he might be abnormal and somewhat unhealthy.

Even worse : when he yearns for a land that he could buy for cheap, by reselling a part of the estate so that it wouldn't cost him anything in the end (which is more or less what modern acquirors are doing all the time, nowadays), and when he's finally found the perfect idiot for that aim, he suddenly breaks into an existential crisis : "what the fuck am i doing here ?" "What am I looking for, actually ?" and "what the meaning of all of it, in the end ?"
This anxiety comes over and over, notably in the most futile times of his existence. He sees himself falling into some kind of existential vacuum and hopes to fill it with religiosity. His family can't understand him and thinks about having him examined by professionals. 

A typical upper-class (or Bourgeois) estate : "Abramstevo", Ilia Repine, 1880

Finally, as he tries once more to buy an estate for cheap, by taking advantage of others people misery, exploiting their distress, he finds himself, once again, blocked by internal issues and can't act as he'd be supposed to do, following the rules of the society's game. He feels ashamed, his own attitude disgusts himself and all of it splits his psyche. 
As everything clearly indicates that he's gone mad (as any reasonable man wouldn't let himself wallowed in such way), a secondary half of himself turns to some kind of transfigured illumination and, even worse, to charity !

Writing this, I fully measure the mind associations linked to those words : transfiguration, illumination, charity. They do sound "mad", don't they ? 
Nothing has changed so far : homo homini lupus - man is a wolf to man, and personal gain is often (yet not absolutely always) the result of a boon, or the fruits of inherited capital… But, according to the society, the old saying "too good, too dumb" is still quite actual, isn't it ?

Of course, this situation resonates with choices that we have or have had to do, either if we are in the system and benefit from it (so called "winners"), or if we reject it ("losers", or "those who are nothing", as states President Macron)… 

The good society : "A Parisian cafe", Illia Répine, 1874

Furthermore, spiritual values, and even any value at all seem abstruse and meaningless… Don't they ?

The great scope of this story isn't so much about its morals, rather than its questions : after all, if I accept that I'll die someday, sooner or later, if I accept the idea that this life has to be the good one, and that there is indeed a difference between right and wrong, who do I want to be ? What shall I do, leave, transmit, share in this life ? 
If my actions are evidently contradictory to my resolutions (for instance if I advocate for the respect of one another but at the same I'm taking advantage of the exploitation of people on the other side of the planet… or even on the other side of town), then who am I, really ? How to get into resonance with my personal convictions ? Am I in any kind of coherence ? 

Honestly, if literature permits to question oneself, if Art stimulate such thinking, then it can't be accessory (anymore). In our society, which refuses to challenge itself, it actually becomes essential !

What do you think about it ?

V.