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XXV
DURING THE TIME of
Mme. Ostrovsky's illness and Mr. Gurd-
jieff's daily sessions with her, one person, who had been a close
friend of his wife for many years, seriously objected to what
Mr. Gurdjieff was doing; her argument was that Mr. Gurdjieff
was prolonging his wife's sufferings interminably and that this
could not possibly serve any worthy or useful purpose -- no
matter what he had said about it. This woman was
Mme. Schernvall, the doctor's wife, and her anger against
Mr. Gurdjieff had reached such a pitch that, while she did
continue to live at the Prieure, she never appeared in his
presence and refused to speak to him for several months. She
would argue her case against him to anyone who happened
to be within earshot, and even once told me a long story to
illustrate his perfidy.
According to her, she and her husband, the doctor, were
two of the original group who had come with Gurdjieff from
Russia some years before. We had heard about the incredible
difficulties they had encountered escaping the various forces
involved in the Russian revolution and how they had finally
made their way to Europe through Constantinople. One of
the things which Madame Schernvall now brought up against
Mr. Gurdjieff, as proof of his unreliability and even of his evil
nature, was that it was largely thanks to her that they had
finally been able to make their escape. Apparently, by the time
they had reached Constantinople they were entirely out of
funds and Mme. Schernvall made it possible for them to
continue to Europe by lending a pair of very valuable earrings
to Mr. Gurdjieff, which enabled them to hire a boat and cross
the Black Sea. Even Madame Schernvall admitted, however,
that she had not offered the earrings spontaneously. Mr. Gurd-
jieff had known of their existence and, as a last resort, had
asked her for them, promising that he would leave them in
Constantinople in good hands and that he would, on his honour,
return them to her someday -- as soon as he could raise the
necessary money to redeem them. Several years had passed
and, even though Mr. Gurdjieff had, in the meantime, raised
large amounts of money in the United States, she had never
seen the earrings again. Not only was this proof of his lack of
good intentions; in addition she always brought up the question
of what he had done with the money he had raised -- had he
not, for instance, purchased all those bicycles with money that
could have been used to buy back her jewels?
This story had
been told to most of us at different times,
and at the time of Mme. Ostrovsky's death I had completely
forgotten it. A few weeks after the funeral, Gurdjieff asked me
one day if I had seen Mme. Schernvall recently and inquired
as to her health. He expressed his regret at the fact that he
never saw her any more and said that it made his relations
with the doctor very difficult, and that it was not a good
situation. He gave me a long lecture about the vagaries of
women and said that he had finally decided that it was up to
him to make an effort to win back Mme. Schernvall's affection
and her goodwill. He then handed me part of a chocolate bar ,
in a torn box, as if someone had already eaten the other half,
and told me to take it to her. 1 was to tell her how he felt about
her, how much he did respect her and value her friendship,
and to say that this chocolate was an expression of his esteem
for her .
I looked at the
torn wrapping and thought, privately, that
this was hardly the way to win back her friendship, but I had
learned not to express such reactions. I took it from him and
went to see her.
Before handing her
the small package, I gave her his mes-
sages, quoting him as exactly as I could, which took some time,
and then handed her the little, torn package. She had listened
to me with obviously mixed emotions and by the time 1 handed
her the package she was eager to receive it. When she saw it,
however, her features assumed a look of disdain. She said that
he was never serious about anything, and that he had forced
me to give her this long, elaborate message just as a preliminary
joke to giving her a half-eaten piece of chocolate) which she
did not like in any case.
I then said that I
was surprised because he had told me that
she liked this particular brand of chocolate above anything
else in tile world. She gave me an odd look when I said this
and then opened the package hastily. He had chosen the right
messenger; I had so completely forgotten her tale about the
jewels that I was as astonished as she when she found, of course,
the earrings. She burst into tears, hugged me, became almost
hysterical; she made up her face, put on the earrings, and then
proceeded to tell me the entire story all over again, but this
time with the significant difference that this was proof of what
a wonderful man he was, and how she had always known that
he would keep his promise to her. I was as surprised by her
switch of feelings as I had been when I saw the earrings.
I went back to
him, as he had instructed me, and told him
the whole story in detail. He was greatly amused by it, laughed
a great deal, and then told me, at least in part, his story .He
said that her facts were correct, but that she had no conception
of the difficulties he had experienced in trying to get the
earrings back. He had "pawned" them for a very large sum
of money to a trusted friend in Constantinople and when he
had, finally, been able to return the money, together with the
proper interest, he had learned that his friend was dead. It had
taken him, from then on, several years of unflagging effort
to locate the jewels and to persuade the present owner, appar-
ently a usurer, to return them for a sum far exceeding their
value.
I could not help
but blurt out my obvious reaction: Why
had he done this? Were any jewels worth such a price, and, in
addition, did Mme. Schernvall fail to realize that whatever
the value of the jewels, the very lives of Gurdjieff's group
at that time had probably depended on them?
He told me then
that the value of the jewels wag not an
important element in the story. One reason he had redeemed
them was because of his wife's friendship for Mme. Schernvall ;
that friendship could not be evaluated, and that it was neces-
sary to do this for the sake of the memory of his wife. Further,
he said that any man had an obligation to keep any promise
that was made truthfully and solemnly, as he had made that
particular promise. "I not do this for her only," he said, "also
do for sake of my soul."
"You remember," he
said then, "how I tell about good and
evil in man -- like right hand, left hand ? In other sense, this
also true of man and woman. Man is active, positive, good in
Nature. Woman is passive, negative, evil. Not evil in your
American sense like 'wrong', but very necessary evil; evil that
make man good. Is like electric light -- one wire passive or
negative; other wire active, positive. Without such two
elements not have light. If Mme. Schernvall not evil for me,
perhaps I forget promise, serious promise, I make to her, So
without her help, because she not let me forget what I promise,
I not keep promise, not do good for own soul. When give back
earrings I do good thing: good for me, for memory of wife,
and good for Mme. Schernvall who now have great remorse
in heart for bad things she say about me. This important
lesson for you."
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