I probably read it in one of Anton Chekov or Maxim Gorky’s works. It went something like this: it’s easier for a man to live in a revolution than to face the routine of his daily existence.
On a weekend, I stay at my younger sister’s place; she is taking her undergrad at a university in the city. And during the whole time, we do nothing but eat, sleep, and for me, workout in the gym in a nearly automatic fashion. During these two days spent in advertent indolence, I am able to reflect on thoughts as scandalous and ingrate as this.
This confrontation with the ordinary, the clichéd, the redundant, proves just too difficult for my frail human soul to endure.
Could this be the same force that drives some members of the bourgeoisie to abandon their easy, repetitive, therefore boring, existence and take arms against the status quo? This lack of anything to do is more assaulting to the spirit than the thought of an impending revolution ahead.
But being so used to a secure life, although they thought they’ve already taken part in a revolution, they would keep on reiterating an ideology they accept as universally obvious. In Brodsky’s words, “What’s wrong with discourses about the obvious is that they corrupt consciousness with their easiness, with the quickness with which they provide one with moral comfort, with the sensation of being right. And so they wallow back in banality, this time, of their own ideology.”