Chapter 8 Eight

"Now I will say briefly that I have been trying for months in desperation for such absurd and unreasonable things. In order not to go completely mad, or to a state of complete mental failure, I have nothing to do except to do There was no alternative to this paradox. My dire situation compelled me to at least try to split myself into black me and white me, so as not to be overwhelmed by the terrible nothingness around me. .” Having said this, Dr. B leaned back on the recliner and closed his eyes for a minute.He seemed to be trying to force down an unpleasant memory.There was that strange twitch in the corner of his left mouth, which he couldn't control.Then he straightened up again in the couch.

"Well, by now, I hope I have explained everything to you fairly clearly. Unfortunately, I am not sure myself whether I can explain to you what happened afterwards with equal clarity. Because This new activity demands an unreserved tension of the brain, which prevents it from simultaneously exerting any self-control. As I have just told you, in my opinion, playing chess with yourself as an opponent is Absolute nonsense. But if there is a chessboard in front of you, there is at least a minimum chance of doing such absurd things, because the chessboard itself always allows you a certain distance and a sense of physical separation. ...if you sit in front of a real chessboard with real pieces on it, you can at least schedule some time to think, your body can sit on one side of the table and on the other, so that From Black's standpoint, and sometimes from White's standpoint, the situation is observed. But, as I am compelled to put these myself against myself, or if you will, me against myself, Reflected into the imaginary space in my mind, I was forced to clearly grasp the chess position after each move in the sixty-four grids in my mind, and besides In addition, not only remember the temporary game, but also calculate the other moves that both sides may have to take, which means-I know how ridiculous it all sounds-I want to double, triple No, six times, eight times. Twelve times, for each of me, black and white, I have to think out four or five moves in advance. Please forgive me for asking you this The exactingness of the game—imagine this crazy thing. In playing this kind of chess in the abstract space of my fantasy, I, as the player for white, must figure out four or five moves in advance. At the same time, as the player for black, So, in a sense, I have to use two brains to associate the situation step by step with the development of the chess game in advance, using White's brain and Black's brain to associate together. But even this splitting up of myself is not the most dangerous thing in my inexplicable experiments. The most dangerous thing is that when I come up with chess games so independently and independently, I lose the ground under my feet and fall into it all at once. Bottomless abyss. If you just repeat the game of masters, as I have been practicing for the past few weeks. Then in the end it is just a process of reproduction, purely repeating the existing material, so that Doing it is not necessarily more difficult than reciting poetry and memorizing legal provisions. It is a limited and step-by-step activity, so it is an excellent mental exercise. I play two games of chess in the morning and in the afternoon, which has become my Regular homework, I did without difficulty. They took the place of my normal activities, and besides, in case I made a mistake in a game of chess, or didn't know how to proceed, I always had the book to lean on. For that alone the activity was so beneficial to my already shaken nerves, that evenIt can be said to have a calming effect, because I played chess games played by others according to the chess records, and did not let me take risks by myself.It doesn't matter to me whether black or white wins.Was it not Aleshin or Bogolyubov who were fighting for the title of champion there?Personally, my mind, my soul is there only as a spectator, as an adept there to appreciate the drastic changes and beauty of those games.But ever since I tried to play against myself, I unknowingly started to challenge myself.Each of the two mes, the black me and the white me, had to compete with each other, both ambitious, restless, eager to win, eager to win at chess.As the sunspot me, every time I make a move, I desperately think about what move I will take for the white one.Each of the two me is elated whenever the other me makes a wrong move, and at the same time rages over my loss. "

"All this seems pointless, and in fact such an artificial schizophrenia, such a cleavage of consciousness which could give rise to dangerous emotional agitations, is unimaginable in normal circumstances, in normal people. But don't forget that I have been violently pulled out of a state of normalcy, an innocent prisoner who has been painstakingly tortured in solitude for months, a man who has long wanted to The person who vents the anger accumulated in his heart on something. Since I have nothing but this ridiculous chess game where I treat myself as an opponent, then my anger, my revenge, are all poured into This kind of game is gone. I have something in my heart to prove myself right, and there is only this other self in my heart that I can fight, so I almost reach a maniac excitement when I play chess At first I was thinking calmly and thoughtfully, and I arranged some rest time between the two games to rest and breathe a sigh of relief; but gradually, my excited nerves did not allow me to wait any longer. Take one step, and I have already grabbed the sunspots vigorously. As soon as a game of chess is over, I challenge myself to play another game, because in every game of chess, one of the two me is always defeated by the other. , and demanded another revenge. I can never tell, not even a rough idea, that during my last months in the cell, due to this insane, insatiable emotion, I Exactly how many games of chess were played—maybe thousands of games, maybe more. This is a kind of wind demon that I can't resist myself. I don't think about anything from morning to night. , checkmate, and displacement. My whole being was forced into these little squares. The joy of playing chess became a passion for playing chess, a hobby, a violent rage, which Not only does it haunt me when I am awake, but gradually, it invades my sleep as well. I can only think about chess, only about the movement of chess pieces, chess problems. Sometimes I wake up with sweat on my forehead Yes, I discovered that I probably played chess subconsciously even in my sleep, and that if I dreamed of people, they would move like carts and elephants, and jump forward and backward. They even called me When I went to the trial, I was no longer able to think clearly of my responsibilities; I felt that during the last few interrogations I must have spoken rather incoherently, because the judges looked at each other inexplicably from time to time. But in fact, in the When they questioned and discussed it, I couldn't wait for them to take me back to my cell so that I could continue playing chess, playing my crazy chess, and replaying the game , another set, another set. Every interruption felt like a distraction. Even the quarter of an hour when the guard came to clean the cell, or the two minutes it took for him to bring me my food, caused my feverish agitation. I was tortured. Sometimes until evening, the bowl of lunch was still there. I played chess and forgot to eat. The only thing I could feel in my body was the terrible dryness. thirsty; bigThe constant thinking and playing chess must have already made me angry; I drank the water bottle in two gulps and forced the guard to fetch me more water, but after a while, I felt parched again.Finally, when I played chess—and I did nothing from morning till night—my emotions were so agitated that I could not sit still for a moment; Walking back and forth, the closer the chess game came to the conclusion, the faster I walked.The desire to win, to win, to beat myself down gradually turned into a rage.I was trembling with anxiety, because one side of me always felt that the other side of me was walking too slowly.One urges the other to go down quickly; you may find it very ridiculous: if one on me I feel that the other is not fast enough to return, I start scolding myself: 'Hurry up, hurry up! ' or 'Go, go! ’—I am now, of course, quite aware that my condition has been entirely a symptom of mental stress, for which I cannot find another name, but have to give it a hitherto unknown medical term. : Chess poisoning.Eventually, this paranoid madness began to attack not only my mind, but my body as well.I was getting thinner and thinner, my sleep was restless, and I had wild dreams; every time I woke up, I had to work hard to open my leaden eyelids; sometimes I felt so weak that my hands trembled. I couldn't even lift the cup, and I had to struggle to bring it to my mouth; but, as soon as I started playing chess, a wild force surged out of me: I clasped my hands and walked around Go, sometimes I seem to hear my own voice through a layer of red mist, only to hear it hoarsely and viciously shouting at myself: 'General! ' or 'Checkmate! '"

"How this horrific and indescribable situation turned into a crisis is beyond me. All I know is that I woke up one morning feeling different than usual. My body seemed to be the same as I was. I disengaged myself, and I lay down, soft and comfortable. A pleasant fatigue that I had never experienced in months pressed on my eyelids. It was warm and comfortable, and I couldn't make up my mind to close my eyes for a moment. Open it. I lay awake for a few more minutes, enjoying this heavy numbness again, the blissfully insensible, sensual blissful insensibility, the person lying there lazily. Suddenly, I seemed to hear a voice behind me, a living being The voice spoke there. You cannot imagine my joy, for for months, and for nearly a year, I have heard nothing but harsh, harsh, fierce words from the judgment seat. I am to myself Say: 'You're dreaming! Don't open your eyes! Let this dream last a little longer, or you'll see the damned cell next to you, the chair, the washstand, the table, and the pattern that never changes. wallpaper. You're dreaming—get on with it!'”

"But curiosity got the better of me. Slowly and carefully I opened my eyes. It was a miracle: I was lying in another room, much larger and more spacious than my cell in the hotel. The windows There are no iron railings on the roof, the sun can shine into the house unimpeded, and the window is no longer a brick wall that separates the fire. Through the window, you can see the green trees swaying in the wind, the white walls are smooth and shiny, and the ceiling above my head White and tall - it's not real, I'm lying on a strange brand new bed, it's not a dream, someone is whispering behind my bed. I must have moved violently in my surprise Just a moment, because right away I heard footsteps approaching my bedside. A woman with a white cap pulled up in her hair came lightly, and it was an orderly, a nurse. A spasm of joy ran through my Full body: I ​​haven't seen a woman in a whole year. I stared intently at this delicate figure. My eyes must have been wild and excited, because the nurse who came over tried to comfort me: 'Quiet! Please be quiet point!' But I just pricked up my ears to hear her voice—isn’t this a person talking there? Is there really a person in the world who doesn’t interrogate me or torture me? Besides—this is incredible Miracle!—it was a soft, warm, almost tender woman's voice. I looked greedily at her mouth, for after a year in hell I felt like one person was like another. It's impossible to talk so nicely. The nurse smiled at me—yes, she smiled, there are people in the world who smile kindly—and she put her index finger to her lips to tell me to be quiet, She walked away softly again. But I couldn't obey her orders. I haven't seen enough of this miracle. I tried to sit up on the bed and look at her, at this amiable miracle in human form. However, I was trying to get up on the side of the bed, but I couldn’t. It turned out that my right hand, where there were fingers and wrists, was now a big, fat, white bulge, and it was obvious that my right hand was heavily wrapped with bandages. I looked at this white fat strange thing in my hand at first, wondering, then slowly began to understand where I was, and began to think hard, what misfortune might have happened to me. They must have hurt me or I hurt my hand myself. I'm lying in the hospital now."

"The doctor came at noon. He was a kind, elderly gentleman. He knew our family name and mentioned my uncle who was an imperial physician with respect, so I immediately felt that he was very fond of me. Kindly. Then in the course of the conversation he asked me various questions, one of which surprised me in particular: he asked me whether I was a mathematician or a chemist, and I said neither." "'Strange,' he murmured, 'that you keep shouting out strange formulas in your stupor. None of us can understand them.'" "I asked him what happened to me. He smiled strangely."

"'It's nothing serious. It's nothing more than an acute derangement of the nerves,' and then, looking around cautiously, he added in a low voice: 'After all, it's quite understandable. After the thirteenth of March ,Yes or no?'" ① On March 13, 1938, the fascist Germans annexed Austria, and the German army entered the territory of Austria. I nodded.