Page:The way of Martha and the way of Mary (1915).djvu/61

Rh Gorky, whose wonderful literary gift Italy and Greece have withered.

But Gorky, frustrate as he seems, has effectually raised the question and set Russia thinking and differentiating.

I have a strange, strange feeling about Moscow (says he), a mournful feeling. . . . Were the Moscow streets and the Moscow people like this before, or do I only remark it now because I have seen what it is like in the West? There, in Italy, amidst the brilliance and magnificence of Nature, in the magnificent chaos of cities buzzing with automobiles, humming with factories, you feel at least that Man is not losing himself; you feel he is the master, the centre. His voice is full-sounding, it is ever in one's ears, the voice of one who is master of earth and master of his life. But in Moscow! On the streets I feel the people are all voiceless. The pavements are populous, lively, noisy; there are people of all kinds going to and fro, but the actual human voice of mankind seems to be utterly silent. The people are all gloomy, melancholy, above all, angry. The women have widows' faces. . . . Is it possible it was like this when I was here before?

Gorky, despite his experience in what may be called the absolute West—America —has come back enchanted with the West. The idea accepted in the revolutionary days that the West was good, the West was Russia's bright destiny providentially lighted before her for her to follow, has died out