episode_0071

The Brothers Karamazov.

Homer’s new work, published not long after the publication of ‘A Christmas Carol’, instantly captured the hearts of all intellectuals in the empire.

Sin, love, desire, truth, false accusation, murder, lust─.

‘The Brothers Karamazov’, which detailed the contradictory psychology of people, received sympathy and love from many people. Everyone looked at the story in their own way. Some people focused on the contradictions within humans, some on the complex and shocking events revealed on the outside, and some on the ‘love of God’ that unites it all.

“Homer is the savior of the new era, and literature is his Bible!”

A time when, as always, voices were raised in praise of Homer.

There was also controversy from critics.

“A Christmas Carol, which was evaluated as Homer’s masterpiece, came out, and at most less than half a year later, a new masterpiece called ‘The Brothers Karamazov’ came out. Is this the speed at which a person can write alone?”

“Not long after Homer began to gain fame, he held a contest and established a ‘temporary academy’ to gather disciples. In fact, isn’t Homer stealing his student’s talent?”

The story was that Homer’s early creation of an academy and training of students was in fact for the sake of ‘breeding.’

In fact, some works from the middle Homeric period were published in collaboration with students. The questions raised so casually by critics gained traction through the media and almost gradually spread to the capital.

“It is possible because it is ‘Homer’ and not a person!”

“Rather, the author of Homer personally writes hundreds of ‘unpublished short stories’ and shows them to students for the education of writers.”

“We can’t write such great articles… .”

“Je, I didn’t write much. Well, I just rewrote the sentences, and the whole story was written by Homer… .”

Thanks to the testimony of academy students, it quickly subsided.

Rather, there has been an increase in the number of wealthy people visiting the academy with hundreds of millions of dollars, saying they want to read ‘unpublished short stories’ from academy students’ testimonies.

Homer did not sell or publish these ‘unpublished fragments’.

Instead, it was donated to the academy in the form of reference materials. So that any student at the academy can read it. In order for outsiders to read this material, they had to qualify by donating or contributing to the Academy.

In the process, numerous funds were raised and a ‘scholarship foundation’ was established. This was the emergence of the ‘Education Promotion Foundation’, which connects the Children’s Welfare Foundation and the Artists’ Welfare Foundation.

“Critics said that Homer’s writing speed was too fast and suspected that he was imitating another author’s work.”

“Huh, if I knew that the author of Homer was actually the same person as ‘Herodotus’, I would faint!”

“But it’s not that I don’t understand. The Brothers Karamazov is a masterpiece by Homer, the successor to Don Quixote. Has there ever been a work that delves this far into human psychology and contradictions?”

“Hmm, isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration? In my opinion, ‘A Christmas Carol’ is a better work, as it kindly immerses the reader in the story with humor and eloquence. Don’t you have the shallow idea that the more detailed every part of a person is described, the better the work will be?”

“Huh? Have you said everything now? Seeing as how you are obsessed with the typical stories of good and evil, it seems like you have only read at a shallow level!”

“What?! What did you just say!”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Profit! It’s a duel!”

As always, there were people dueling while discussing books.

but.

Unlike usual, the people most influenced by this novel were other people.

[“You should love life itself more than the meaning of life?”]

[“Definitely.”]

“… Love, love.”

They were more sincere workers than any other workers, volunteers who gave charity to the world, scholars who sought wisdom through meditation, and priests who were pious in their faith.

Intentional poverty, permanent chastity, and complete obedience.

Of these ascetics who, more than any priest, shun worldly pleasures because they seek salvation only in the sincerity of this world.

“Monk Paul, are you okay? Your complexion is very bad.”

“… Ah, yes. Brother. sorry. What did you say?”

He was said to be a monk.

The monk Paul was the most respected monk in the empire.

This is because the monk Paul was someone who kept his duties without fail. Paul was the priest who so thoroughly observed his duties that one wonders what he would be like if a monk were to become a person.

Of course, this was a natural thing for a monk.

It was the monk’s duty to stay away from worldly pleasures, be sincere in work, be charitable to people, and think about questions. Anyone who violated these obligations could not be called a monk.

However, there are things that are more difficult because they are natural. Aren’t monks also people?

Lust, laziness, stinginess—it was difficult to rein in the sins of these hearts. And because monk Paul did such ‘difficult work’, he was able to become the most respected monk in the empire.

“If your health is not good, I will ask a minister to go ‘over the wall’ today.”

“No. Because it’s my job.”

“Thank you for your hard work as always.”

“Helping people is my joy, so it’s only natural.”

The monk Paul smiled kindly and accepted the luggage from the minister.

It was food to be transported to the ‘feeding station’ beyond the wall.

It’s something I always do… For some reason, Paul felt that his shoulders carrying the food were heavier than usual.

.

.

.

yellow wall. The wall that separated the ‘slums’ from the ‘capital’ was not that high or thick.

At most, it is a wall built slightly higher than human eye level. A normal adult would have been able to overcome it without difficulty. Therefore, the yellow wall did not exist to block criminals or illegal immigrants. It’s not even meant to stop people in the first place.

That wall… It was to cover up the truth. You could see beyond the wall by just standing on a small platform, but no one was willing to go through such trouble.

So the essence of the wall was closer to a curtain than a barrier.

A black curtain of truth that can be opened at any time, but no one bothers to open it. There were lazy people beyond that wall.

“… … .”

As I stepped over the wall, I felt countless eyes on me.

The bloodshot and obsessive gaze of drug addicts, the welcoming gaze of poor people who run away because they hate working, and the relieved gaze of disabled people who cannot find work because their hands or legs are cut off.

The gaze of those whom monk Paul could not possibly love.

The eyes of helpless sinners who could survive each day only by begging for mercy stared at Paul.

Taking steps in that gaze.

Monk Paul recalled a passage from the novel ‘The Brothers Karamazov.’

[“People do not want to acknowledge others as sufferers. If it’s low pain, instinctive pain like hunger, you’ll nod your head, but if it’s a more noble pain, pain that you go through for the sake of an ideology, no one wants to acknowledge the pain of others.”]

[“The moment he looks at the other person’s ugly face, he realizes that that face is completely different from the face of the ‘sufferer’ he imagined.”]

[“Noble beggars should never show themselves and beg through newspapers. In the abstract, you can love your neighbors and love them from afar, but it is impossible up close.”]

Before reading ‘The Brothers Karamazov’, Paul thought Homer was an idealist. He was considered a saint who followed the same eternal and endless love as the savior. Therefore, it was assumed that he probably grew up in a noble family without any shortages.

Anyone who has seen a person at their lowest can’t help but know this.

That there is someone you can never love. Just standing in front of me makes me feel disgusted and unpleasant, and I know that there are the worst people out there that I can’t possibly love.

I know that it is not love itself that breathes breath into the stinking mouth of a person, but a sense of duty to love.

At least that was the case with Paul, who was evaluated as an ‘ideal’ monk more than anyone else. He was a person who trembled with disgust as he looked at the sinners beyond the lazy wall, but smiled and carried food only out of a sense of duty to love them.

It’s not that I hate them because I don’t love them.

Even they had no choice but to hate it because ‘they had to love it.’ For the monk Paul, love was a duty in itself.

“This is Paul, a religious priest. I brought food to be used at the soup kitchen.”

“Ah, you’re here. Is the check in the food bag as usual?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for your hard work as always.”

However, Homer, who wrote ‘The Brothers Karamazov’, was not a person who did not know about ‘the worst’.

‘The Brothers Karamazov’ was not something that could be written by someone who did not know misery and squalor. Paul witnessed fragments of the ‘worst’ that only those who thought and studied in wretchedness could sympathize with in the work ‘The Brothers Karamazov.’

[“I could have been crucified if necessary for the sake of mankind. However, I couldn’t live in the same room with another person for two days. The mere presence of someone near me makes me uncomfortable. As the day goes by, I start to hate them. One person is because they ate dinner too long, and the other person is because they have a cold and keep blowing their nose. However, it always happened that the more I personally hated humans, the more I loved them.”]

I made an oath when I first became a believer.

I said I would love you. I will love my neighbors as myself, and my enemies as myself.

They pledged to carry the Savior’s cross together.

[“I love humanity─but I tend to fall into the contradiction that the more I love humanity as a whole, the less I love humans in particular.”]

But that love was not eternal.

Even though I love my ‘neighbors’ and ‘enemies’ as if I were myself, I was aware of the existence of ‘people’ whom I could not love. Sometimes, even my miserable body felt repulsive.

I could still have been crucified to save all mankind, but—.

If those lazy drug addicts I detest approached me, I would be offended, even if they did not drive nails and instead held my hands with righteousness.

“… Brother.”

“Yes. Monk priest.”

“Do you mind if I prepare a meal with you at the cafeteria here?”

“Ah, that’s a good news since we’re always short on workers… Wouldn’t that be too much of a nuisance? The monk must be busy too.”

Love takes precedence over all principles, and everything should be done with love above all else.

Where has the oath that I pledged as a believer gone?

Am I putting love ahead of duty? Is there love in my heart for those lazy people?

I loved them as ‘neighbors’ and ‘enemies’, but at the same time I loathed them as ‘people’. So is this ‘love’ that goes along with hate just a lie? If I have two hearts, is it a lie? Am I a person who is not sincere in my faith?

No matter how much I thought and searched, I could not find an answer to this contradiction.

There is no answer. Contradictions exist. The mind is confused.

then.

[“I trust people. Just like I trust my brother.”]

I was just doing my duty as a monk.

“Can you be busy and leisurely in doing love? Come to think of it, even though I always visit this place, I’ve never actually gone inside.”

“Haha, you, monk Paul, are truly pious.”

If God’s love was only possible through miracles.

I believe in miracles.

As has been the case since the beginning of time.