{"id":"01KG8AN1M477KV5JNGFPGRNY7Y","cid":"bafkreie5nnxcvsb6b3mogdef24bfjqfrlswyv2yikonpnsikdengwz64g4","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":15060,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:52.924Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1JSYKSGCE149MH9HF6A","start_line":15002,"text":"immaturity, to the attempt at a mature work,--a circumstance\r\nsufficiently lamentable in itself; but also, in the hour of his\r\nclamorous pennilessness, he was additionally goaded into an enterprise\r\nlong and protracted in the execution, and of all things least calculated\r\nfor pecuniary profit in the end. How these things were so, whence they\r\noriginated, might be thoroughly and very beneficially explained; but\r\nspace and time here forbid.\r\n\r\nAt length, domestic matters--rent and bread--had come to such a pass\r\nwith him, that whether or no, the first pages must go to the printer;\r\nand thus was added still another tribulation; because the printed pages\r\nnow dictated to the following manuscript, and said to all subsequent\r\nthoughts and inventions of Pierre--_Thus and thus_; _so and so_; _else\r\nan ill match_. Therefore, was his book already limited, bound over, and\r\ncommitted to imperfection, even before it had come to any confirmed form\r\nor conclusion at all. Oh, who shall reveal the horrors of poverty in\r\nauthorship that is high? While the silly Millthorpe was railing against\r\nhis delay of a few weeks and months; how bitterly did unreplying Pierre\r\nfeel in his heart, that to most of the great works of humanity, their\r\nauthors had given, not weeks and months, not years and years, but their\r\nwholly surrendered and dedicated lives. On either hand clung to by a\r\ngirl who would have laid down her life for him; Pierre, nevertheless, in\r\nhis deepest, highest part, was utterly without sympathy from any thing\r\ndivine, human, brute, or vegetable. One in a city of hundreds of\r\nthousands of human beings, Pierre was solitary as at the Pole.\r\n\r\nAnd the great woe of all was this: that all these things were\r\nunsuspected without, and undivulgible from within; the very daggers that\r\nstabbed him were joked at by Imbecility, Ignorance, Blockheadedness,\r\nSelf-Complacency, and the universal Blearedness and Besottedness around\r\nhim. Now he began to feel that in him, the thews of a Titan were\r\nforestallingly cut by the scissors of Fate. He felt as a moose,\r\nhamstrung. All things that think, or move, or lie still, seemed as\r\ncreated to mock and torment him. He seemed gifted with loftiness, merely\r\nthat it might be dragged down to the mud. Still, the profound\r\nwillfulness in him would not give up. Against the breaking heart, and\r\nthe bursting head; against all the dismal lassitude, and deathful\r\nfaintness and sleeplessness, and whirlingness, and craziness, still he\r\nlike a demigod bore up. His soul's ship foresaw the inevitable rocks,\r\nbut resolved to sail on, and make a courageous wreck. Now he gave jeer\r\nfor jeer, and taunted the apes that jibed him. With the soul of an\r\nAtheist, he wrote down the godliest things; with the feeling of misery\r\nand death in him, he created forms of gladness and life. For the pangs\r\nin his heart, he put down hoots on the paper. And every thing else he\r\ndisguised under the so conveniently adjustable drapery of\r\nall-stretchable Philosophy. For the more and the more that he wrote, and\r\nthe deeper and the deeper that he dived, Pierre saw the everlasting\r\nelusiveness of Truth; the universal lurking insincerity of even the\r\ngreatest and purest written thoughts. Like knavish cards, the leaves of\r\nall great books were covertly packed. He was but packing one set the\r\nmore; and that a very poor jaded set and pack indeed. So that there was\r\nnothing he more spurned, than his own aspirations; nothing he more\r\nabhorred than the loftiest part of himself. The brightest success, now\r\nseemed intolerable to him, since he so plainly saw, that the brightest\r\nsuccess could not be the sole offspring of Merit; but of Merit for the\r\none thousandth part, and nine hundred and ninety-nine combining and\r\ndove-tailing accidents for the rest. So beforehand he despised those\r\nlaurels which in the very nature of things, can never be impartially\r\nbestowed. But while thus all the earth was depopulated of ambition for\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AKHN66NK0QXXEMH96PQP9","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1JSYKSGCE149MH9HF6A","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AN1KZPJBXRT6YZ4J8EZWH","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AN1KZQW1QYMHY0G0GRK8G","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:56.964Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:49:34.357Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}