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

form evokes in him by association the sensation of a definite "inner content", and consequently of a
definite picturing or notion for the expression of which he employs one or another word which has
eventually become habitual, and as I have said, subjective to him, then the hearer of that word, in whose
being, owing to different conditions of his arising and growth, there has been formed concerning the
given word a form of a different "inner content", will always perceive and of course infallibly understand
that same word in quite another sense.
This fact, by the way, can with attentive and impartial observation be very clearly established when one
is present at an exchange of opinions between persons belonging to two different races or who arose and
were formed in different geographical localities.
And so, cheerful and swaggering candidate for a buyer of my wiseacrings, having warned you that I am
going to write not as "professional writers" usually write but quite otherwise, I advise you, before
embarking on the reading of my further expositions, to reflect seriously and only then to undertake it. If
not, I am afraid for your hearing and other perceptive and also digestive organs which may be already so
thoroughly automatized to the "literary language of the intelligentsia" existing in the present period of
time on Earth, that the reading of these writings of mine might affect you very, very cacophonously, and
from this you might loose your… you know what? … your appetite for your favorite dish and for your
psychic specificness which particularly titillates your "inside" and which proceeds in you on seeing your
neighbor, the brunette.
For such a possibility, ensuing from my language, or rather, strictly speaking, from the form of my
mentation, I am, thanks to oft-repeated past experiences, already quite as convinced with my whole being
as a "thoroughbred donkey" is convinced of the right and justice of his obstinacy.
Now that I have warned you of what is most important, I am already tranquil about everything further.
Even if any misunderstanding should arise on account of my writings, you alone will be entirely to
blame, and my conscience will be as clear as for instance… the ex-Kaiser Wilhelm's.
In all probability you are now thinking that I am, of course, a young man with an auspicious exterior and,
as some express it, a 'suspicious interior', and that, as a novice in writing, I am evidently intentionally
being eccentric in the hope of becoming famous and thereby rich.
If you indeed think so, then you are very, very mistaken.
First of all, I am not young; I have already lived so much that I have been in my life, as it is said, "not
only through the mill but through all the grindstones"; and secondly, I am in general not writing so as to
make a career for myself, or so as to plant myself, as is said, "firm-footedly", thanks to this profession,
which, I must add, in my opinion provides many openings to become a candidate d-i-r-e-c-t for
"Hell"—assuming of course that such people can in general by their Being, perfect themselves even to
that extent, for the reason that knowing nothing whatsoever themselves, they write all kinds of "claptrap"
and thereby automatically acquiring authority, they become almost one of the chief factors, the totality of
which steadily continues year by year, still further to diminish the, without this, already extremely
diminished psyche of people.
And as regards my personal career, then thanks to all forces high and low and, if you like, even right and
left, I have actualized it long ago, and have already long been standing on "firm-feet" and even maybe on
very good feet, and I moreover am certain that their strength is sufficient for many more years, in spite of
all my past, present, and future enemies.
Yes, I think you might as well be told also about an idea which has only just arisen in my madcap brain,
and namely, specially to request the printer, to whom I shall give my first book, to print this first chapter
of my writings in such a way that anybody may read it before cutting the pages of the book itself,
whereupon, on learning that it is not written in the usual manner, that is to say, for helping to produce in
one's mentation, very smoothly and easily, exciting images and lulling reveries, he may, if he wishes,
without wasting words with the bookseller, return it and get his money back, money perhaps earned by
the sweat of his own brow.
I shall do this without fail, moreover, because I just now again remember the story of what happened to a
Transcaucasian Kurd, which story I heard in my quite early youth and which in subsequent years,