29 November 2012

'The Bet' and the Birthday

Today is my birthday, and though I'm not one to make a big fuss over it, it feels nice knowing that I've spent this year judiciously – becoming atheist, reading a lot of books, and exercising on a daily basis to name a few.

Funny enough, I think Anton Chekhov might disagree. In English, we had to study a short story by Chekhov entitled 'The Bet.' The story centres around an argument between a rich banker and a young lawyer over capital punishment. The banker was of the opinion that death was a more moral alternative to life imprisonment. The lawyer disagreed. In a rage, the banker proposed a bet: the lawyer was to spend five years in prison in exchange for two million dollars. The lawyer raised the stakes to 15 years for the same amount. And hence the bet was carried out.

The rest of the story goes on to describe how the lawyer went from reading light novels to philosophy, and from philosophy to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Yes, the Gospel.

Because going from reading classics and epics to a contradictory book written by barbaric desert-dwelling fanatics is always a sure sign of intellectual progression.

When the 15 years had passed, the banker found himself extremely short of cash, having gambled it all away in the stock exchange. He could no longer afford the 2 million he promised the lawyer. To protect his ass, the banker decided to murder the lawyer discretely.

The banker made his way to where the lawyer was living in solitary confinement and saw that the lawyer had become extremely thin, looking like a hermit in every way. He was about to smother the lawyer with a pillow when he chanced upon a letter, address to him. The letter describes describes how the lawyer had experienced the world through the books he's read. He had gained all the wisdom the world had to offer, and yet he despised this wisdom, because it is fleeting. The lawyer said how he cannot understand why people would exchange heaven for earth. He assured the banker that he would break the contract by leaving the estate 15 minutes before the bet timed out, which he later did. This silent exchange was not made known to anyone else.

I was really confused after reading this story because Murakami described Chekhov as a man with brilliant philosophical insights. I fail to see how brilliant someone is if their highest standard of intellectualism and self-growth is derived from the Bible. Regardless, I'm sure Chekhov had some valid points for believing for what he did, and as I have not read more works by him, I will give him the benefit of the doubt.

It just goes to show you how far we've come since then. We (by "we," I mean all thinking people) now know that the Bible is anything but intellectual. Maybe the lawyer took Genesis a little too literally and that led to his hate of wisdom; or, perhaps, he took to heart the parts where Jesus commands his followers not to question his authoritah!

Either way, because of the Bible, everything the lawyer learned over the years was thrown down the drain. In a way, he reminds me of those people who come on televangelist shows and talk about how they used to be atheists until they saw the light and came to know the "truth" of Jesus. The lawyer was not intelligent to begin with – wagering a huge chunk of his life to prove a petty point. The only thing that did happen was that he came full circle by the end of the betting period. In the words of Hemingway, all thinking men are atheists. Clearly the lawyer was not a thinking man.

I chose to post about this story on my birthday because I really connect with it, as weird as that may seem. It offers a deep insight into the degradation of the mind when an individual is so far removed from society for a prolonged period of time. I am completely the opposite of the lawyer. I started out religious, and am now embracing knowledge. I suppose where I and the lawyer cross each other on the path is where the story connects to me. As we both head in opposite directions, I would like to tell him that there is nothing waiting for him at the end of the path, but I know he will not listen. So I quietly let him pass.