Anna Karenina (Penguin) - Leo Tolstoy [227]
Sergei Ivanovich was about to say something, but Pestsov with his dense bass interrupted him. He heatedly began proving the incorrectness of this opinion. Sergei Ivanovich calmly waited his turn, obviously ready with a triumphant retort.
‘Yet,’ said Sergei Ivanovich, turning to Karenin with a subtle smile, ‘one cannot but agree that it is difficult to weigh fully all the advantages and disadvantages of both branches of learning, and the question of preference would not have been resolved so quickly and definitively if there had not been on the side of classical education that advantage you just mentioned: its moral or -disons le motai - anti-nihilistic10 influence.’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘If there had not been this advantage of an anti-nihilistic influence on the side of classical learning, we would have thought more, weighed the arguments on both sides,’ Sergei Ivanovich went on with a subtle smile, ‘and left room for the one tendency and the other. But now we know that the pills of classical education contain the healing power of anti-nihilism, and we boldly offer them to our patients ... And what if there is no healing power?’ he concluded, sprinkling his Attic salt.
Everybody laughed at Sergei Ivanovich’s pills, Turovtsyn especially loudly and gaily, having at last been granted that something funny which was all he was waiting for as he listened to the conversation.
Stepan Arkadyich had made no mistake in inviting Pestsov. With Pestsov intelligent conversation could not die down even for a moment. No sooner had Sergei Ivanovich ended the conversation with a joke than Pestsov started up a new one.
‘One cannot even agree,’ he said, ‘that the government has such a goal. The government is obviously guided by general considerations and remains indifferent to the influences its measures may have. For instance, the question of women’s education ought to be regarded as pernicious, yet the government opens courses and universities for women.’
And the conversation at once jumped over to the new subject of women’s education.11
Alexei Alexandrovich expressed the thought that women’s education was usually confused with the question of women’s emancipation and could be considered pernicious only on that account.
‘I would suppose, on the contrary, that these two questions are inseparably connected,’ said Pestsov. ‘It’s a vicious circle. Women are deprived of rights because of their lack of education, and their lack of education comes from having no rights. We mustn’t forget that the subjection of women is so great and so old that we often refuse to comprehend the abyss that separates them from us,’ he said.
‘You said “rights”,’ said Sergei Ivanovich, who had been waiting for Pestsov to stop talking, ‘meaning the rights to take on the jobs of jurors, councillors, the rights of board directors, the rights of civil servants, members of parliament ...’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘But if women can, as a rare exception, occupy these positions, it seems to me that you have used the term “rights” incorrectly. It would be more correct to say “obligations”. Everyone will agree that in doing the job of a juror, a councillor, a telegraph clerk, we feel that we are fulfilling an obligation. And therefore it would be more correct to say that women are seeking obligations, and quite legitimately. And one can only sympathize with this desire of theirs to help in men’s common task.’
‘Perfectly true,’ Alexei Alexandrovich agreed. ‘The question, I suppose, consists only in whether they are capable of such obligations.’
‘They’ll most likely be very capable,’ Stepan Arkadyich put in, ‘once education spreads among them. We can see that...’
‘Remember the proverb?’ said the old prince, who had long