Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve

Four weeks had passed since Pierre's capture.Although the French offered to transfer him from the soldier's to the officer's, he remained in the same shed he had entered on the first day. In Moscow, devastated and burned, Pierre suffered almost as much hardship and pain as a human being can; Physically, especially since this life of hardship came so imperceptibly that it was hard to tell when it began, he not only lived easily, but was happy with where he was.It was during this period that he found the peace and contentment that he had strived for but could not find in the past.He had long sought in all his life this serenity, this inner harmony, that which had alarmed him so much in the soldiers at the Battle of Borodino.He had sought that mood in philanthropy, in Freemasonry, in loose city life, in wine, in heroic self-sacrifice, in romantic love for Natasha; He had sought that mood by reasoning, but all this seeking and all attempts had failed.And now, without thinking about that kind of heart, he found this peaceful inner harmony in the horror of death, in the hardships of life, in what he learned through Karatayev.The terrible moment he had experienced at the execution, those important thoughts and feelings which he had felt to motivate him in the past, were lost forever from his imagination and memory.In his mind there was neither Russia, nor war, nor politics, nor Napoleon.He felt very clearly that all this was irrelevant to him, that he had no gift for it, and therefore he could not judge of it all. "Russia, summer—do not go together," he repeated Karataev's words, which comforted him greatly.Now he felt that his attempt to assassinate Napoleon, his calculation of the mysterious number and the beast of the "Apocalypse" were inexplicable, even ridiculous.His resentment towards his wife and his fear of dishonoring his name now seemed to him not only pointless but a little comical.This woman lives where she likes, and how she likes to live, just go there as she likes, and what is she doing?Did they know, or did not know, that their prisoner's name was Count Bezukhov, and what did it matter to a man, especially to him?

He now often recalled what he had said with Prince Andrew, and he fully agreed with him, but he understood Prince Andrey's thoughts somewhat differently.Prince Andrew thought and said so, that there is no such thing as happiness, but he said it with a bitterness and irony.When he said this, it seemed that he wanted to explain another kind of thinking, that is, if we wholeheartedly pursue the certain happiness, we will definitely not get it, but we are just torturing ourselves.But, unreservedly in Pierre's mind, he was right in this.The absence of pain, the satisfaction of one's needs, and the resulting freedom to choose one's occupation—that is, freedom to choose one's way of life—all these, it seemed to Pierre now, were undoubtedly the highest human happiness.Only here, only at such moments, only when he was hungry, did Pierre for the first time experience the full pleasure of eating, only when his mouth was dry, did he experience the pleasure of drinking, only when he was hungry. He feels the joy of being warm when he is cold, the joy of falling asleep only when he wants to sleep, and the joy of talking to people only when he longs to talk and hear their voices. hapiness.Satisfaction of needs—good equipment, clean surroundings, freedom—now, when he has lost all of these, he feels that the satisfaction of these needs is the greatest happiness. As for choosing a career, it is also choosing life. way, now, when the choice is so limited, he finds it so easy, that he forgets that too much advantage of the conditions of life destroys every pleasure in the satisfaction of human needs, and at the same time The greatest freedom in choosing an occupation, such as, for example, in his own life, that which his education, his property, and his social position afford him, and which is precisely the freedom which makes the choice of occupation an insoluble problem, Not even the need itself and the possibility of employment exist.

All Pierre's fantasies now centered on when he would be free.But, in the days since, and throughout his life, he has been affected. ②Refers to the spiritual realm of forgetting the form and forgetting things. In "Zhuangzi", Pierre recalled and talked about his life as a prisoner during this month with ecstasy, as well as those strong and joyful feelings that will never return. , remembering and talking about the total peace of mind and total freedom of mind felt only at this time. On the first day, he got up early in the morning, walked out of the shed, and at the first sight saw the darkened cupolas and crosses of the Novella Monastery, saw the cold dew on the dusty grass, saw the hills of Sparrow Hill, saw Hidden in the lavender distance, the wooded, meandering river bank, he felt the air was fresh and refreshing, and he could hear the crows flying over the fields from Moscow, and for a while, on the eastern horizon, suddenly Thousands of glows were sprayed out, and a round of red sun gradually emerged from the clouds.And then the cupola, the cross, the dew, the distance and the little river—all this shimmered in the sun, and Pierre felt a new joy and power to live that he had never experienced before. .

Not only did this feeling never leave him throughout his captivity, but, on the contrary, it grew stronger as his plight became more difficult. Soon after he came to the shed, he enjoyed a great reputation among his companions here, so that he was more obliging and energetic.Pierre, for his knowledge of the language, for the extent of the respect the French have for him.It is objectively universal.From the macrocosm to the microcosm, different things, because of his honesty, because of his responsiveness to any request from others (he can receive an officer's allowance of three rubles a week); to the soldiers to see him pressing an iron needle into the inner wall of the shed), because of his amiable attitude towards his companions, because of his way of sitting Ability, he is a mysterious and high-level figure in the eyes of the soldiers-it is for these reasons, precisely because of these characteristics of him, that even in the high society where he lived in the past He was harmless, and bound him, but here, among these people, his great strength, his contempt for comfort, his indifference to everything, his simplicity—all these made him almost The status of a hero.It seemed to Pierre, therefore, that this opinion of all placed upon him a duty which he had to bear.