“You are in love generally, as is common in your years,” said Rameyev.
“Perhaps,” said Piotr, “but Elisaveta’s choice revolts me.”
“Why should it?” asked Rameyev.
“For many reasons,” replied Piotr. “For one thing, he presented her with a photograph of his dead wife, a naked beauty. Why? Is it right to make universal that which is intimate?[27] She revealed her body to her husband, and not for Elisaveta and for us.”
“You would do away with many fine pictures if you had your way,” said Rameyev.
“I am not so simple as not to be able to make a distinction,” replied Piotr animatedly. “In the one case it is pure art, always sacred; in the other there is an effort to inflame the feelings with pornographic pictures. And don’t you notice it yourself, uncle, that Elisaveta has poisoned herself with this sweet poison, and has become terribly passionate and insufficiently modest?”
“I do not find this at all,” said Rameyev dryly.
“She is in love—so what’s to be done? If there is sensuality in people, what is to be done with nature? Shall the whole world be maimed in order to gratify a decrepit morality?”
“Uncle, I did not suspect you of being such an amoralist,” said Piotr in vexation.
“There is morality and morality,” replied Rameyev, not without some confusion. “I do not uphold depravity, but nevertheless demand freedom of thought and feeling. A free feeling is always innocent.”