The Gulag Archipelago Vol. 2 An Experiment in Literary Investigation - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

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The 'Way of Life and Customs of the Natives I 213
shaking its wings. And on his feet were boatlike rubber overshoes
glued together from red automobile tires.
Why was he dressed so warmly? In the first place, the summer
was short and the winter long, and it was necessary to keep everything
he had for the winter, and where else could he keep it except
on himself? In the second place, the principal reason, he created
by this means a soft and well-padded exterior, and thus did not
feel pain when he was struck. He could be kicked and beaten
with sticks without getting bruised. This was his one defense. All
he had to do was be quick enough to see who was about to strike
him, drop to the ground in time, pull his knees up to.his stomach,
thus covering it, press his head down to his chest and embrace it
with his thickly padded arms. Then the only places they could hit
him were padded. And, so that no one should beat him for too
long at a time-it was necessary quickly to give the person beating
him a feeling of triumph. And to this end Y. had learned to
howl hideously, like a piglet, from the very first blow, even though
he wasn't hurting in the least. (For in camp they are very fond of
beating up the weak-not only the work assigners and the brigadiers,
but the ordinary zeks as well-so as not to {eel completely
weak themselves. And what was to be done if people simply could
not believe' in their own strength unless they. subjected others to
cruelty?)
And to Y. this seemed a fully endurable and reasonably chosen
way of life-and one, in addition, which did not require him to
soil his conscience! He did nobody harm!
He hoped to survive his term. .
The interview with the last-Iegger is over .
•
In our glorious Fatherland, which was capable for more than a
hundred years of not publishing the work of Chaadayev because
of his reactionary views, you see, you are not likely to surprise
anyone with the fact that the most important and boldest books
are never read by contemporaries, never exercise an influence on
popular thought in good time. And thus it is that I amwritiilg
this book solely from a sense of obligation-because too many ,
stories. and recollections have accumulated in my hands and I
214 -I THE GULAG ARCHIPELAGO
cannot allow them to perish. I do not expect to see it in print anywhere
with my own eyes; and I have little hope that those who
managed -to drag their bones out of the Archipelago will ever
read it; and I do not at all believe that it will explain the truth of
our history in time for anything to be corrected. In the very heat
of working on this book I was struck by the greatest shock of my
life: The dragon emerged for one minute, licked up my novel
with his wicked rough red tongue, and several other old works*­
and retired behind the curtain for the time. But I can hear his
breathing, and I know that his teeth are aimed at my neck, that it
is just that my time is not up yet. And with devastated soul I am .
going to gather my strength to complete this investigation, so that
it at least may escape the dragon's teeth. In the days when Sholokhov,
who has long since ceased to be a writer, journeyed from this
country of harried and arrested writers to receive a Nobel prize,
I was trying to duck the dicks, seeking a hiding place and trying
to win time for my clandestine, panting pen to complete this very
book.
I have digressed, but what I wanted to say was that in our
country the best books remain unknown to their contemporaries,
and it is very possible that I am therefore vainly. repeating the
secret work of someone else, wh,en, had I known of it, I could
have made my own work shorter. But during the seven years of
.our frail. and pale-freedom some things did nevertheless emerge,
despite everything, and one swimmer in the dawn-lit ocean has
spied another head and cried out in a wheezy voice to him. And
it was in this way that I lell111ed of Shalamov's sixty camp stories
and of his study of the thieves.
I want to declare here that, apart from several individual points
on which we disagree, no difference of interpretation has ever
arisen between us in explaining the Archipelago. He and I evaluate
the whole native life in the same way. Shalamov's camp experience
was more bitter and longer than mine, and.I acknowledge
with esteem that it fell to him rather than to me to plumb those
depths of beastliness and despair to which the whole camp way of
life was dragging us all down.
This, however, does not prohibit my raising objections to specific
points on which we disagree. one such point is the evaluation
of the camp Medical Section. Shalamov speaks with hate and gall
(and rightly too!) of every camp establishment, but he always
makes a biased exception solely for the Medical Section. He sup-