"Gurdjieff, G I - Beelzebubs Tales To His Grandson" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gurdjieff G I)

grandmother, changed these data into a "something" and this "something" flowing everywhere through
my entirety settled forever in each atom composing this entirety of mine, and secondly, this my ill-fated
"I" there and then definitely felt and, with an impulse of submission, became conscious of this, for me,
sad fact, that already from that moment I should willy-nilly have to manifest myself always and in
everything without exception, according to this inherency formed in me, not in accordance with the laws
of heredity, nor even by the influence of surrounding circumstances, but arising in my entirety under the
influence of three external accidental causes, having nothing in common, namely: thanks in the first
place to the behest of a person who had become, without the slightest desire on my part, a passing cause
of the cause of my arising; secondly, on account of a tooth of mine knocked out by some ragamuffin of a
boy, mainly on account of somebody else's "slobberiness"; and thirdly, thanks to the verbal formulation
delivered in a drunken state by a person quite alien to me—some merchant of "Moscovite brand."
If before my acquaintance with this "all-universal principle of living" I had actualized all manifestations
differently from other biped animals similar to me, arising and vegetating with me on one and the same
planet, then I did so automatically, and sometimes only half consciously, but after this event I began to
do so consciously and moreover with an instinctive sensation of the two blended impulses of
self-satisfaction and self-cognizance in correctly and honorably fulfilling my duty to Great Nature.
It must even be emphasized that although even before this event I already did everything not as others
did, yet my manifestations were hardly thrust before the eyes of my fellow countrymen around me, but
from the moment when the essence of this principle of living was assimilated in my nature, then on the
one hand all my manifestations, those intentional for any aim and also those simply, as is said, "occurring
out of sheer idleness", acquired vivifyingness and began to assist in the formation of "corns" on the
organs of perception of every creature similar to me without exception who directed his attention directly
or indirectly toward my actions, and on the other hand, I myself began to carry out all these actions of
mine in accordance with the injunctions of my deceased grandmother to the utmost possible limits; and
the practice was automatically acquired in me on beginning anything new and also at any change, of
course on a large scale, always to utter silently or aloud:
"If you go on a spree then go the whole hog including the postage."
And now, for instance, in the present case also, since, owing to causes not dependent on me, but flowing
from the strange and accidental circumstances of my life, I happen to be writing books, I am compelled
to do this also in accordance with that same principle which has gradually become definite through
various extraordinary combinations created by life itself, and which has blended with each atom of my
entirety.
This psycho-organic principle of mine I shall this time begin to actualize not by following the practice of
all writers, established from the remote past down to the present, of taking as the theme of their various
writings the events which have supposedly taken place, or are taking place, on Earth, but shall take
instead as the scale of events for my writings—the whole Universe. Thus in the present case also, "If you
take then take!"—that is to say, "If you go on a spree then go the whole hog including the postage."
Any writer can write within the scale of the Earth, but I am not any writer.
Can I confine myself merely to this, in the objective sense, "paltry Earth" of ours? To do this, that is to
say, to take for my writings the same themes as in general other writers do, I must not, even if only
because what our learned spirits affirm might suddenly indeed prove true; and my grandmother might
learn of this; and do you understand what might happen to her, to my dear beloved grandmother? Would
she not turn in her grave, not once, as is usually said, but—as I understand her, especially now when I
can already quite "skillfully" enter into the position of another—she would turn so many times that she
would almost be transformed into an "Irish weathercock."
Please, reader, do not worry … I shall of course also write of the Earth, but with such an impartial
attitude that this comparatively small planet itself and also everything on it shall correspond to that place
which in fact it occupies and which, even according to your own sane logic arrived at, thanks of course to
my guidance, it must occupy in our Great Universe.
I must, of course, also make the various what are called "heroes" of these writings of mine not such types