the less I love man in particular. In my dreams,' he said, 'I have often come to making enthusiastic schemes for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually have faced crucifixion if it had been suddenly necessary; and yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together, as I know by experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs my self-complacency and restricts my freedom.
In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he's too long over his dinner; another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I detest men individually the more ardent becomes my love for humanity.'
In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he's too long over his dinner; another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I detest men individually the more ardent becomes my love for humanity.'
Fyodor Dostoevsky: The Brothers Karamazov, chapter 4. The elder Zossima is relating the story of one particular visitor. How easy it is to love "humanity in general", and how difficult to love one's neighbour in particular
Dostoevsky, as usual gets it right: humanity I love - well, on good days, after my coffee; 3 days into a visit by my relatives sees me locked in my study.
Posted by: David | November 10, 2008 at 03:08 PM
I find the Brothers Karamazov such an insightful read. I'm thinking of doing a few more posts on it when I am finished with the Aeneid.
Posted by: joseph | November 11, 2008 at 11:34 PM