Chapter 12
The chapter opens with the seminar’s “pončkos” tradition and Varnėnas’s plan to declaim Maironis’ poem “Skausmo balsas” during a formal evening in the recreation hall. As Varnėnas steps onto the stage, his imposing appearance draws attention. He begins reciting, his voice trembling with passion, but the verses—full of pain and accusation—silence the audience. A few listeners, including Jonelaitis and Sereika, stare anxiously, while the “pralotas oficiolas” and the chapter’s “kanauninkas” exchange confused remarks, unable to identify Maironis. The “pralotas” finally labels him a “socialist, anarchist and atheist.” The rector, however, interjects, correcting them: Maironis was a former rector of the seminary, a professor at the Petrapilis Spiritual Academy, author of “De justitia et jure,” etc. The discussion collapses into chaos, with the officials shouting in mixed Lithuanian, Polish, and Russian.
After the performance, the rector summons Varnėnas to his office, pulling a copy of the “Draugija” newspaper. He asks Varnėnas pointedly, “Is this yours?” Varnėnas answers affirmatively. The rector accuses him of violating the rule that no seminary correspondence may leave without his permission, calling Varnėnas’s action “blasphemous” and demanding the article be signed under a pseudonym. Varnėnas protests his ignorance, and the rector ends the encounter with the scornful Polish phrase “Pychę masz!” (you’re proud).
Later, Varnėnas recounts the whole episode to the members of the “Šviesos” circle. Vasaris listens intently, feeling a sharp knot in his chest. The narrative triggers a conversation between Vasaris and his close friend Kasaitis (who has just been admitted to the “Draugija”). Vasaris asks whether Varnėnas’s expulsion would demonstrate how difficult it is for a talented individual to survive in the seminary. Kasaitis agrees, noting the seminary’s hostile atmosphere. Their dialogue drifts into broader musings about the fate of dissenters, the role of nationalism, and the possibility of younger, more liberal officials replacing the rector and inspector.
The chapter then shifts to a cultural evening organized by the Lithuanian and Polish clerks. Both groups begin singing alternating Lithuanian and Polish folk songs. At first the atmosphere is competitive but friendly; soon the Poles dominate the program, crowding the stage with rapid songs, while the Lithuanians try to assert themselves by invoking “Žirgelį.” Tensions rise, and the rector bursts into the hall, shouting in a mixture of languages, accusing the Lithuanians of “not giving the Poles room to sing.” In a sudden, violent outburst, he strikes Marčiulis, the leading Lithuanian tenor, on the face, sending him sprawling and silencing the Lithuanian choir. The rector’s aggression shocks the assembly; the Poles are momentarily triumphant, and the Lithuanian students, including Kasaitis, retreat in humiliation. The incident leaves a lingering sour mood, and Kasaitis later reflects that this humiliation fuels his growing pessimism about the seminary’s future. The chapter ends with Vasaris quietly absorbing the layered conflicts—cultural, literary, and institutional—foreseeing an increasingly precarious path for himself and his peers.