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those of the wise that have brought us to the admission of the
senselessness of life； there remained in me a vague doubt of the
justice of my conclusion。
It was like this： I； my reason； have acknowledged that life
is senseless。 If there is nothing higher than reason （and there is
not： nothing can prove that there is）； then reason is the creator
of life for me。 If reason did not exist there would be for me no
life。 How can reason deny life when it is the creator of life？ Or
to put it the other way： were there no life； my reason would not
exist； therefore reason is life's son。 Life is all。 Reason is its
fruit yet reason rejects life itself！ I felt that there was
something wrong here。
Life is a senseless evil； that is certain； said I to myself。
Yet I have lived and am still living； and all mankind lived and
lives。 How is that？ Why does it live； when it is possible not to
live？ Is it that only I and Schopenhauer are wise enough to
understand the senselessness and evil of life？
The reasoning showing the vanity of life is not so difficult；
and has long been familiar to the very simplest folk； yet they have
lived and still live。 How is it they all live and never think of
doubting the reasonableness of life？
My knowledge； confirmed by the wisdom of the sages； has shown
me that everything on earth organic and inorganic is all most
cleverly arranged only my own position is stupid。 and those
fools the enormous masses of people know nothing about how
everything organic and inorganic in the world is arranged； but they
live； and it seems to them that their life is very wisely arranged！
。。。
And it struck me： 〃But what if there is something I do not
yet know？ Ignorance behaves just in that way。 Ignorance always
says just what I am saying。 When it does not know something； it
says that what it does not know is stupid。 Indeed； it appears that
there is a whole humanity that lived and lives as if it understood
the meaning of its life； for without understanding it could not
live； but I say that all this life is senseless and that I cannot
live。
〃Nothing prevents our denying life by suicide。 well then；
kill yourself； and you won't discuss。 If life displeases you； kill
yourself！ You live； and cannot understand the meaning of life
then finish it； and do not fool about in life； saying and writing
that you do not understand it。 You have come into good company
where people are contented and know what they are doing； if you
find it dull and repulsive go away！〃
Indeed； what are we who are convinced of the necessity of
suicide yet do not decide to commit it； but the weakest； most
inconsistent； and to put it plainly； the stupidest of men； fussing
about with our own stupidity as a fool fusses about with a painted
hussy？ For our wisdom； however indubitable it may be； has not
given us the knowledge of the meaning of our life。 But all mankind
who sustain life millions of them do not doubt the meaning of
life。
Indeed； from the most distant time of which I know anything；
when life began； people have lived knowing the argument about the
vanity of life which has shown me its senselessness； and yet they
lived attributing some meaning to it。
From the time when any life began among men they had that
meaning of life； and they led that life which has descended to me。
All that is in me and around me； all； corporeal and incorporeal； is
the fruit of their knowledge of life。 Those very instruments of
thought with which I consider this life and condemn it were all
devised not be me but by them。 I myself was born； taught； and
brought up thanks to them。 They dug out the iron； taught us to cut
down the forests； tamed the cows and horses； taught us to sow corn
and to live together； organized our life； and taught me to think
and speak。 And I； their product； fed； supplied with drink； taught
by them； thinking with their thoughts and words； have argued that
they are an absurdity！ 〃There is something wrong；〃 said I to
myself。 〃I have blundered somewhere。〃 But it was a long time
before I could find out where the mistake was。
VIII
All these doubts； which I am now able to express more or less
systematically； I could not then have expressed。 I then only felt
that however logically inevitable were my conclusions concerning
the vanity of life； confirmed as they were by the greatest
thinkers； there was something not right about them。 Whether it was
in the reasoning itself or in the statement of the question I did
not know I only felt that the conclusion was rationally
convincing； but that that was insufficient。 All these conclusions
could not so convince me as to make me do what followed from my
reasoning； that is to say； kill myself。 And I should have told an
untruth had I； without killing myself； said that reason had brought
me to the point I had reached。 Reason worked； but something else
was also working which I can only call a consciousness of life。 A
force was working which compelled me to turn my attention to this
and not to that； and it was this force which extricated me from my
desperate situation and turned my mind in quite another direction。
This force compelled me to turn my attention to the fact that I and
a few hundred similar people are not the whole of mankind； and that
I did not yet know the life of mankind。
Looking at the narrow circle of my equals； I saw only people
who had not understood the question； or who had understood it and
drowned it in life's intoxication； or had understood it and ended
their lives； or had understood it and yet from weakness were living
out their desperate life。 And I saw no others。 It seemed to me
that that narrow circle of rich； learned； and leisured people to
which I belonged formed the whole of humanity； and that those
milliards of others who have lived and are living were cattle of
some sort not real people。
Strange； incredibly incomprehensible as it now seems to me
that I could； while reasoning about life； overlook the whole life
of mankind that surrounded me on all sides； that I could to such a
degree blunder so absurdly as to think that my life； and Solomon's
and Schopenhauer's； is the real； normal life； and that the life of
the milliards is a circumstance undeserving of attention strange
as this now is to me； I see that so it was。 In the delusion of my
pride of intellect it seemed to me so indubitable that I and
Solomon and Schopenhauer had stated the question so truly and
exactly that nothing else was possible so indubitable did it
seem that all those milliards consisted of men who had not yet
arrived at an apprehension of all the profundity of the question
that I sought for the meaning of my life without it once occurring
to me to ask： 〃But what meaning is and has been given to their
lives by all the milliards of common folk who live and have lived
in the world？〃
I long lived in this state of lunacy； which； in fact if not in
words； is particularly characteristic of us very liberal and
learned people。 But thanks either to the strange physical
affection I have for the real labouring people； which compelled me
to understand them and to see that they are not so stupid as we
suppose； or thanks to the sincerity of my conviction that I could
know nothing beyond the fact that the best I could do was to hang
myself； at any rate I instinctively felt that if I wished to live
and understand the meaning of life； I must seek this meaning not
among those who have lost it and wish to kill themselves； but among
those milliards of the past and the present who make life and who
support the burden of their own lives and of ours also。 And I
considered the enormous masses of those simple； unlearned； and poor
people who have lived and are living and I saw something quite
different。 I saw that； with rare exceptions； all those