Chronicles From The Future: The amazing story of Paul Amadeus Dienach

by Unknown

  I detected a note of sarcasm in his last sentence so I showed him, in my own way, my disbelief in every word he said. I smiled and asked him why someone would give up such profitable work so prematurely.

  “The profits I had made were sufficient,” he replied gravely. “It was someone else’s turn to replace me.”

  “And what sort of job did you do?” I asked, adopting a similar gravity of tone.

  “Oh, I used to do something beautiful,” he sighed nostalgically. “Part of my good fortune was that I was given one of our more artistic jobs: we made combs. Mostly for women. I worked there for two years. Millions of combs passed through my hands. I remember thinking about how much hair that had been combed by them, the millions of young girls that had looked at their reflection in the mirror with pleasure while wearing them, the millions of plaits that had become tangled in them. If combs could talk, each one of them would tell me incredible stories. And I’m proud of my creations, which were the product of two of the most fertile and memorable years of my youth.”

  His final words were filled with true emotion. But I stayed faithful to the cheerful tone of the beginning of his monologue: I didn’t want to show more credulity than I should. “That must have been interesting,” I said, awkwardly smiling again. “This story of the lucky and prematurely retired industrialist is definitely an interesting one, to say the least. Did our other rich friends have a similar fate, perhaps even starting from their early school years?”

  “In the beginning, when I talked about luck, I was just joking. It’s not about luck; it’s an institution. You see us now, living a life of comfort, but all of us, men and women have been through that. Every single person you’ve met and everyone you’ll meet in the future, including Silvia, Aria, and Hilda, were ‘partners’ from the age of seventeen to nineteen. After finishing their basic education at school they went and earned their living. They worked in construction, in food, furniture and clothes manufacturing, in public transport, in utensils, machines, in everything you see around you and everything you can imagine. And if their lives are easy now, it’s because they dedicated themselves wholeheartedly for two years, and that required a great deal of effort. Thus, neither did we burden our parents financially, nor will our children burden us. Before our ‘service’, the previous generation worked for us, we did the same in our time and now, it’s the youngest generation’s turn to work for everyone.”

  If I was sure that Stefan had stopped joking, I’d have a thousand things to ask him. But I’ll have time to judge if all this is true. For the moment, I just wanted to somehow switch the conversation to what I intended to say. “In any case, given my situation and my justifiably great curiosity, I think it’s not too difficult for you to understand that this air of relaxation and well-being is becoming almost agonising for me. So I was thinking if we could somehow exchange this holiday atmosphere with a typical image of modern life… As for the people, I find them all more and more lovable with every passing day—especially you and Hilda. I wish I could have you with me all the time.” Silvia’s name kept echoing in my mind. It so happens, sometimes, that we avoid talking about what interests us most…

  “A typical image of modern life…” Stefan repeated, gradually speaking louder in a cheerful manner. “Did you say ‘a typical image of modern life’? Well, for the majority this is pretty much the most common way of life now. Simple life, surrounded by the beauties of nature, carefree, cheerful, among friendly faces and our loved ones... It is a life without ambitions or the slightest desire for posthumous fame, without the need to perform great deeds. To give the Ilectors and the Lorffes their large palaces with all your heart without any secret desires; to live free and, above all, unfettered from all sorts of projects that will, gradually and without your realising it, enslave you for your entire life; to stay away from any contact with the institutions of our times, few though they may be; to see your life flow in obscurity among the treasures of the heart and of nature, happy in your anonymity, and to occasionally lose yourself in reading or in the pleasure of being a sensitive admirer of the fine arts; that’s the image of modern life you’re looking for!”

  You could see that he was thrilled by his own words. It was obvious that for years he had been building his lifestyle around the imperatives of his own psyche and temperament and he wouldn’t let anything and anyone change that.

  “You don’t understand me, Stefan,” I continued. “It’s not as much about the way of life as it is about the world as a whole and its people. After entering this developed community with its extremely cultivated and sophisticated —and “superior” for that matter— people, with their impeccable manners and civilised lifestyle, isn’t my need to see how most people live justifiable?”

  “But we are ‘most people’,” he claimed in amongst peals of laughter — and this time his laughter was genuine, that of a child. “Does it seem so absurd to you? Yes, we are those who you, in your time, would call ‘working class’. Listen, because you don’t seem to understand: so what if we have everything in abundance daily and, literally, not one bit less than the greatest Ilector? We deserve all these ‘consumer goods’. We worked hard for them in our youth. And, in any case, there is such an abundance that we never run out. Travels, entertainment, sports— whatever we want—are at our disposal. However, all kinds of moral satisfaction like respect, fame, recognition, accolades and generally all honours are reserved for others.” And lowering his voice, he added in a serious tone that struck me, “The common perception about us is that we ‘do nothing’. And it’s true…What can I say?”

  “What?” I spontaneously interrupted him, affected by the sincerity of his bitter confessions, a product of his self-consciousness. “This perception is not fair. You’ve carried out your duty; you’ve paid off all your debts to society!”

  “And they’ve carried out theirs,” he replied in the same low voice. “They worked in their time too. They ran with the same fervour to the glothners and were appointed to our modern construction sites, laboratories and werksteds. They faced temporary spiritual and intellectual malnutrition and lived the disciplined life of active ‘partners’. They endured the unbearably long shifts and the torturous—for the free spirits—tedium of their labour. They gladly completed their two-year service like everyone else. Nevertheless, coming out into society with the title of Cives, they didn’t choose to sit back, relax and enjoy what they had earned from their service, like we do, like most people do; they had every right to. Instead, and without the slightest hint of thirst for recognition and rewards, they tried to make something out of themselves, to leave something behind.”

  “Most of the times,” Stefan continued, “this ‘something’ was based on dreams and pure ambitions that had already started to emerged in their teenage years, insights born in their final years at school. But quite often one’s inclinations manifest themselves at a more mature age. But in any case, no one forces them to do anything. That’s what they like, that’s where they find happiness. Some derive pleasure and satisfaction from taking care of children and sick people; others dream up inventions and technical applications that will make our lives even easier one day; others want to become physicians and open up new avenues in science.

  All these millions of people who go to our major spiritual centres to study know that there isn’t the slightest material gain or professional prestige to look forward to after finishing the course they have chosen. Many of them just sit there and listen to the same things for many years, just out of sheer love for their subject. Many are old but no one can be under nineteen years of age because our higher education always comes after the ‘service’ without exception.”

  Stefan told me that, the majority of these young men and women come to listen to the great masters, about whom they had been hearing great things since their early teenage years and whom they had always admired from afar. In fact, some of these young people are lucky enough to become, even for a short period of time, members of the crew
or followers of these wise men, called unge, an honorary title.

  He also told me that he cannot entirely agree with what almost everyone believes, that is, that, at the highest level, above the wise scientists, leading thinkers and teachers, are the great artists. “They are the ones that attract all the attention, recognition and acknowledgement nowadays. They are the ones who now electrify the crowds. They are now the idols of the wider, anonymous public, according to the modern meritocratic beliefs. But I think that these two categories are incomparable, to say the least.”

  He emphasised how valuable the contributions of the men that stood out in the sciences—especially physical sciences—were to humankind. I also remember him wondering why only the philosophical sciences are now considered equivalent to art.

  “It is said,” he added softly, almost as if talking to himself, “that only these sciences share the element of ‘transcendence’. But don’t the physical sciences too, at their highest level, take on the same transcendental aspect, leading to philosophical thinking?”

  At that point I decided to interrupt him, arguing that the fervour with which he spoke about the ‘upper class’ somehow contradicted his previous description of his simple, carefree life in obscurity as ‘perfectly satisfactory’. In fact I reminded him of what he had said earlier:

  “Now more than ever, people like us, who do not wish to pursue professional ‘success’ and do not need to make a living, have to arrange our lives around our capabilities as conceived by each of us individually. I’m perfectly happy with the way I am because I know that I wasn’t born for greatness. The truth is that creators are born, not made. If, however, before I was born, I was given a choice, I think I would sacrifice this calm and carefree life for the agonising world of creation.”

  He fell silent for a few moments and then, touching my hand in a friendly and confidential way, he continued with a hint of a smile. “I won’t lie to you; neither Eric nor Axel agrees with me on this subject. Eric, with his heart of gold, would choose the exact opposite. As for Axel, he continues to saw on his violin, unwilling to realise that he will never reach that level of excellence that would even justify devoting one’s whole life to it.”

  He then added, “This candid approach, which was true for the arts since the beginning of time, now also applies to the world of science. And the reason is what I told you before: one’s involvement in science is not a professional need that justifies mediocrity for the sake of one making a living. Our universal socio-political community needs high quality rather than quantity. It all comes down to this: either you say something actually worth saying or say nothing at all!”

  I asked him if it were true that the content and purpose of the current class distinction was purely spiritual and if, apart from the honours that these people necessarily—as he claims—accept, there is no other material gain for all those prestigious wise men and great artists, or any special power over the others.

  “You will not see any further distinctions beyond the ones I’ve told you: love, respect, enthusiasm and gratitude. That is, unless you consider material gain the few palaces and artworks that were given to The Valley of the Roses (their hub of learning) and our other great intellectual centres. These things have more of a symbolic significance than anything else. In fact, these immense buildings even tire them sometimes.”

  “On the other hand,” Stefan added, “there are many more joys in life: youth, travels, requited love—joys that we enjoy to the fullest every day and of which they are deprived, choosing sacrifice and creation to quench their thirst for knowledge. They’re not made for our way of life; they don’t receive enough satisfaction from these things. What could quench their thirsty minds cannot be found in this ‘environment’.”

  “I think that nothing could quench their thirsty minds; the constant feeling of dissatisfaction and unfulfilment is part of their destiny,” I added, wanting to show him I understood his point.

  “The only thing that could,” said Stefan in a tone of profound faith, “is the Great Reality, the Samith... But it is inaccessible down here. Every worthy conception and form in art is nothing more than an attempt to touch it, an excruciating endeavour, full of desperation and, at the same time, frenzied hope! Every worthy conception and form in art was, is and always will be generated by the longing for the Samith… If that did not exist, neither would artistic creation. And if even the greatest artists are never satisfied by their works, that’s because the Samith is the quintessence of the greatest arts, just like infinity is the ultimate of the largest numbers we can imagine. But now I’m talking to you about Volkic Knowledge, something you’re not familiar with…”

  “When are you going to talk to me about this type of knowledge? Will you give me some books on the subject?” I asked him impatiently.

  “That is a subject that will take many hours to discuss. We don’t have enough time today because Hilda will be here shortly. I will only answer the last part of your previous question. Material superiority is unknown to the contemporary ruling class and so is any type of power over others. Twelve or thirteen hundred years ago, when still under the rule of the leading physical scientists, the concept of ‘power’, in its original sense of penalties, enforcement, coercion was still in force. But corresponding legal relations and property disputes were almost inexistent back then, as they are now. The implementation of private laws and institutions had proven largely unrealistic. But the rights and responsibilities between citizens and political authority still needed to be defined by a multitude of modernised and efficient institutions, enacted by those wise people in accordance with new needs. Eventually, with the passage of centuries, any form of compulsion and penalties became obsolete.

  This socio-political phenomenon is not recent. It occurred at the beginning of the Eldere (Old times, Eldere began in our 2396 AD and lasted for 986 years until 3382 AD). Scientists accomplished it using the notion of abundance and an unprecedented progress in the education of children as their tools. The ‘service’ lasted twenty years then and before that, thirty years, but never did it cross anyone’s mind to wrong one another or steal from anybody, since no one lacked anything.”

  I also asked him if something else was true, something that I happened to hear when I had my accident—or rather, when Andreas Northam had had his accident. I wanted to know whether even in case of an accident if the authorities only take into consideration the technical and medical variables without assigning any responsibility.

  “That’s where education comes in, as I mentioned to you before. First of all, the likelihood of a car accident or any other kind of accident occurring is extremely low nowadays. But suppose that something like this happens and the driver of the linsen survives; there would be no need to assign blame, because such a possibility would be completely ruled out.”

  There is a saying here, as Stefan told me, that says that the man of today, the Troende as they call him, ‘can do no wrong’ as the British used to say about their king. This reality was made possible as a result of the deep respect they have for the value of the human life, which is implanted in their conscience from an early age. According to the current ‘Volkic perception’, each and every one of ‘thy neighbours’ is a ‘whole inner world’ full of dreams about life, affection, love and sacred human suffering, high ideals and a wide range of spiritual values, all reflections of the Samith, about which he had talked to me earlier. Their attention to detail and their foresight, which sometimes reaches the point of exaggeration, is incredible. They are extremely careful not to insult this ‘whole inner world’ in the slightest, either in terms of its physical or its moral existence. These people have followed, to the highest possible degree, the commandment of ‘love thy neighbour’.

  “The same goes for the extremely rare occasion of someone illegally having a child,” Stefan continued. “The state does not envisage such a thing happening out of intention or carelessness because the respect for our demographic institutions precludes such possi
bility. In such matters, statistics are our infallible guide: such low percentages of illegal births cannot affect or disturb, even in the slightest, either the process of population screening or the rhythm of life. The compulsions and penalties have been replaced by domestic laws. Truly civilised people, people with ‘inner culture’, cannot do something that is wrong. Even if you force them to, so to speak, they cannot! Let’s look into the matter of signing up for the ‘service’, for example: if you search among the millions of young men and women, you won’t find a single person that would try to avoid it! Quite the contrary, in fact. Our leaders and educators are forced to fight, with proper instruction and arguments, the feeling of inferiority and unjustified remorse for those few children that annually, due to health problems, are not accepted into the glothners. Their great misery comes not from their illness or disability, but by the feeling of being a burden to their fellow men...”

  He again stressed the simplicity of the existing institutions, assuring me that there were no other ones, apart from those concerning the ‘service’, population screening and traffic control.

  “So few constraints,” he said with some obvious pride, “so few institutions and this lack of authority and enforcement in an individual’s life creates a great deal of space for individual freedom—always combined with self-discipline, of course. Nowadays no one stops you from travelling to the other side of the world, from saying and doing whatever you want, believing in whatever you want, the way you see fit. Education—from the most basic to the highest—the daners, the ‘temples', the Reigen-Swage, the theatres, the parks, the beaches, the museums, the hospitals, all sorts of institutions, the walks, the malls, the larinters, the countryside, the exercise centres and all sorts of sports, all these and so much more that you cannot even imagine, are all open to us, especially from the age of nineteen and onwards. And the help of statistics is also miraculous when it comes to ’distribution‘: they keep a balance between supply and demand making everything abound by monitoring all global needs and making early and precise predictions.”