Chapter 10
On a gray “kvijesų” rest day, Liudas Vasaris is haunted by a memory of an unknown woman in white he had glimpsed during a procession; the image becomes a focal point of his melancholy. Seeking an outlet, he composes his first poem – an elegy that mixes youthful anxiety, longing for unattainable ideals, and criticism of his own life. He hides the manuscript from his peers, then shows it to the seminary librarian, Jonelaitis, who covertly supplies him with forbidden Lithuanian periodicals (“Viltis,” “Šaltinis,” “Draugija”) and encourages him to write. Jonelaitis later prints Vasaris’s poem in a small press; when Vasaris reads the printed version, he is astonished that his words look beautiful and authentic, which temporarily lifts his despair.
Encouraged by this validation, Vasaris writes a second poem, again entrusting it to Jonelaitis, who promises to show it to a more knowledgeable cleric. After a brief silence, Jonelaitis presents the poem to a senior who prints it in a newspaper, confirming Vasaris’s talent. The experience fuels his confidence and deepens his secretive literary activity.
Meanwhile, the seminary’s philosophy curriculum intensifies. A professor translates Latin passages from Compendium philosophiae scholasticae for the students, forcing them to copy complex definitions of philosophy and logic. The novices struggle with the abstract concepts but begin to grasp the purpose of logic as a tool for correct reasoning.
Later, Vasaris is invited to a private meeting of the hidden clerical fellowship called “Šviesa.” After a solemn handshake, he is formally inducted as a member, learning that the group’s mission is to cultivate disciplined, patriotic clergy who can operate beyond the restrictive seminary atmosphere. The induction ceremony is brief but symbolic, cementing his secret affiliation.
In the same gathering, Vasaris meets two senior seminarians: Petras Varnėnas, a tall, blond, literature‑savvy third‑year, and Matas Sereika, a mature fourth‑year known for his oratory and pragmatic approach. Both are praised as promising future “workers of the fatherland” and are themselves being prepared for entry into “Šviesa.” Varnėnas, impressed by Vasaris’s poem, tells him it is sincere but notes a second piece feels more contrived. Sereika warns that genuine writing must survive the pressures of seminary life. Their conversation reveals the society’s cautious recruitment and the political tension between Polish and Lithuanian interests within the seminary, likened by Sereika to “catacombs” where every Polish cleric and “the gentlemen” are viewed as enemies. The dialogue underscores the group’s aim to build a resilient, patriotic clergy capable of influencing both church and society despite external oppression.