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Diary of an Algolagnist
Diary of an Algolagnist
Diary of an Algolagnist
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Diary of an Algolagnist

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The author of the following sketch, the Russian anarchist N. K., was arrested in Warsaw in the early months of 1906. Like all those who at this time were considered to be members of the revolutionary party, the intention of the authorities was to shoot him immediately, without any elaborate inquiry, after a drum-head court-martial. His demeanor during the shooting of his companions, who preceded him to death, and also during the court-martial, showed that his psychical individuality was so profoundly abnormal that the Colonel in command of the firing-party suspected him to be a psychopath, and on his own authority postponed his execution pending further examination in the citadel. While imprisoned K. wrote his reminiscences, presented here.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherGood Press
Release dateApr 10, 2021
ISBN4064066316969
Diary of an Algolagnist

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    Diary of an Algolagnist - N. K.

    N. K.

    Diary of an Algolagnist

    Published by Good Press, 2022

    goodpress@okpublishing.info

    EAN 4064066316969

    Table of Contents

    Cover

    Titlepage

    Text

    I.

    Table of Contents

    My parents were opposite elements: my father, strong, coarse, brutal, egotistic, material to excess; my mother, suffering, delicate, sensitive, ethereal. From such a cross, a masochistic character must necessarily be produced. My father brought me up with storms, chastisements, and fear; my mother counteracted all this with caresses, kisses, and tears. ... I trembled with secret anxiety and exulted inwardly at the same moment when my father stretched me across his knees. As soon as the punishment was over, he immediately proceeded to box someone's ears anyone's, a footman's, a maid's, anyone's. I ran with a smarting posterior to my mother. By her first my injuries were inspected, then I was cried over, embraced, kissed, and finally laughed at and with. This scene repeated itself at irregular intervals. To these years belong my first memory of the masochistic principle of life. This was based upon the following observations:

    All my companions, boys and girls alike, endeavoured to play tricks on one another; to tell tales of one another to their parents, tales true and false; in every way to cause suffering, in order then, by redoubled love, to make all right again. On the other hand, I noticed that no child loved another unless it was tormented by that other. Those who did not torment one another were mutually indifferent.

    This mutual tormenting and being tormented must therefore, in the nature of things, produce a certain charm, gives rise to a pleasure. This pleasure consisted in increasing, mentally realizing, sympathizing with, the pain of another. This is not sadism generally speaking, sadism does not exist it is only refined masochism; for we prepare pains in order to sympathize with them that is, in order that we may free ourselves.

    I especially enjoyed teasing girls, destroying their toys, tearing their dolls to pieces, dirtying their clothing, etc. When, thereupon, they wept bitterly, I fought against their tears, until finally they were consoled. Then I went close to them, embraced them, caressed them, kissed them, and cried with sympathy. What pain and what pleasure did I experience when they pushed me away, struck me, and spat in my face! I bought them once more finer toys, and was so happy when their tears gave place to laughter!

    How often I told false tales of other children to their parents, in order to be able to sympathize with the mental pain of an undeserved chastisement! But I was no exception in this, because most of my playmates were the same. I remember how a girl of eleven calumniated a boy of twelve: she declared that he had put his hand on her private parts when she was out walking! The happy, poor lad was frightfully beaten at school and at home. All the children baited him, despised him, and avoided him like the plague. . . . He became quite afraid of his fellows.

    What did I live through at that time?

    Moody and spiteful, he lay under a tree; the girl who had told

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