Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/38

 ed to remain in consideration of the subject-matter, or as an example of such and such a poetical style—what it was I know not—my name had to be removed. I read several of these decrees issued "at the instructions of the Ministry of Education." Students were not allowed to recite my poems, to borrow my books for home reading, to select my work as a subject for critical analysis; teachers were strictly ordered to avoid referring to my name as much as possible, and if it were absolutely necessary to mention it, they were told not to omit adding "a poet detrimental" (oh, holy bureaucracy! literally "detrimental") "to the Austrian Empire and hence also to the Czech nation." (A similar ban was placed upon three other names besides my own—Tolstoy, Herben and de Amicis, only for them the ban was not so severe—their articles might remain, they might be spoken about, but the names had to be removed). And finally, the things I printed were to be subjected to the strictest control—how far this was to go may be best seen from the fragment of a conversation which I had during that period with a certain worthy official authority:

He: "All that you write has a double meaning. If your name is under the sentence, ′the sun is rising′, the Czech nation rubs its hands and exults because,—but you know—"

I: "And when I write: ′The sun is setting′ and put my name to it, then you will say: ′Aha, paragraph 65a, offending against the interests of public order', and you'll lock me up, won't you?"

He: "You see how well we understand each other."

In short, the sword of Damocles hung by a slender thread above my freedom. On no day was I certain whether in the evening I should be able to lie down in my bed, no night, whether I should finish sleeping in my bed. If I came home and saw a motor-car standing in front of the house, my heart gave a thump, and I said to myself: