FATIGUE OF THE SYNAPSES
19
associate shot himself. Shortly afterward Gruber had left the capital–
some said to undergo a cure, others that he had been mobilized for
some research job with the army. There were more rumors, followed
by some discouraging hints from the proper quarters which had the
required effect: Gruber's name was no longer mentioned either in
public or in private, and was soon conveniently forgotten. It had
cropped up, quite unexpectedly, a few weeks before Leontiev's jour–
ney to Paris when, at the end of some official banquet, he had com–
plained to an old friend about his growing inability to work, and his
apprehensions of a nervous breakdown. This fri end belonged to the
inner circle of the ruling hierarchy, but it was rumored that he had
fallen in disfavor: at the last May Day parade he was not seen on
the official stand, his name had vanished from the newspapers and
his demotion seemed imminent. On that evening he had been fairly
dnmk and had grinned at Leontiev with sympathy: "So you are
cracking up, eh?" he said. "Why don't you consult Gruber?"
Leontiev, who could not have survived thirty years of campaign–
ing on the cultural front had he not acquired a perfect control of
his reactions, nodded absently, but on second thoughts he thought it
proper to express mild surprise. "Gruber?" he said. "Oh yes. I
didn't know that he was-available."
His friend grinned even more. "You did not know, eh? How are
you going to write the chronicle of our times if you know nothing
about Gruber?" Then he stopped grinning, conscious of somebody's
gaze alighting on them. He added indifferently: "No, he is not avail–
able--only in exceptional cases. But I guess a Hero of Culture and
Joy of the People qualifies as an exceptional case. I'll see what I
can do. He will either come and see you tomorrow, or you had better
forget that I mentioned him."
The next day Gruber, in an enormous limousine, had turned up
at Leontiev's country house; had taken an appreciative look at the
tennis court and swimming pool; had put his stethoscope in a per–
functory way to Leontiev's chest-all this in a manner as if they had
only parted yesterday-and a little later on, over a bottle of Burgundy
in Leontiev's study, had explained to him about "the fatigue of the
synapses." Then, carried away by the subject, or by the unusually
heavy Burgundy, or by the gap of twenty years since their last en–
counter, he had begun to talk about the chemical reconditioning of
