Chapter 16

Chapter 162,443 wordsCompleted

The chapter opens two weeks after Bronius Radastinis’s abrupt removal from the seminary. The rector, visibly angry, enters the silent hall and declares that divine providence has shown that Radastinis “was not worthy to approach the altar.” He produces a folded sheet of paper, swaps his spectacles, and reads it aloud, claiming it is a letter from Radastinis to an unnamed member of the audience. The letter is a bitter, sarcastic tirade: it calls the rector “a vulture,” describes the seminary as a prison, lists illicit activities (drinking, flirtations with young women, nighttime wanderings), and declares the writer will not return. The rector frames the letter as a warning, stating that the seminary will now watch “with double sensitivity” any “dangerous” acquaintances, especially with members of the opposite sex, and that anyone feeling guilty must repent or leave.

The assembled seminarians react diversely. Vasaris (Liudas Vasaris) feels “utterly crushed,” fearing his own hidden affection for Liucė might be judged. Kasaitis mutters cynically that when a clerk is caught it becomes the biggest scandal, but when priests do the same it goes unnoticed. Some peers argue that Radastinis likely exaggerated his misdeeds to appear more scandalous, while others accept the letter as proof of his moral corruption.

The rector then shifts to an administrative announcement. With the bishop’s approval, all third‑year students will receive the four minor orders (“quattuor minores”) this term. He explains that, although the orders have little practical effect, the seminary traditionally jokes that they “lead to wives.” The ceremony is described in vivid detail: after the concluding Mass, the candidates proceed to the presbytery where the bishop blesses them, a small ampulla of oil is poured over their heads, a bell is rung, and a key is turned in the chrismatory. A specialist tonsure‑master then performs the tonsure with meticulous precision—ensuring the cut is neither too high nor too low, measuring in all directions, marking the future hair lock with a silver coin and a pencil, and finally shaving the hair into a perfect circle. Each newly tonsured clerk receives a symbolic lock of hair, a brief chant, applause, and a commemorative picture.

Vasaris watches the ritual, noting the laughter of his peers, the approving glances of senior seminarians, and the uplifting chant that briefly lifts his spirits. Yet the rector’s earlier warning lingers in his mind. Remembering a recent vision of a mysterious woman in white he saw during a Nekalto atindimas, Vasaris resolves to sit in the front row at the next service, hoping to catch another glimpse of her, while also fearing that his lingering affection for Liucė might be deemed a “dangerous” relationship. The chapter ends with the seminarians dispersing, the newly tonsured holding their insignia, and Vasaris contemplating the thin line between his vocation and personal desire.