From the author: Max Fry’s book is a wonderful artistic reflection of the process of living with grief. I just selected the most interesting passages of the book (from the point of view of considering grief) and made some comments that I thought were important to make. Max Fry is the literary pseudonym of the authors Svetlana Martynchik and Igor Stepin (for the series “Labyrinths of Echo” and “Chronicles of Echo”), as well as a literary character in their books, the main character of several series of novels. The book series was written by Svetlana Martynchik in collaboration with Igor Stepin and published under the pseudonym “Max Frei”. It tells in the first person about the adventures of an ordinary, at first glance, young man in other worlds. The plot of the cycle is based on the adventures of Sir Max mainly in the city of Echo (Heart of the World), where he serves in the Secret Investigation - an organization dedicated to controlling the use of magic in accordance with the Hrember Code and the crimes committed with its help. All the author’s books are unusually rich in descriptions of various emotions, life situations, as well as mental anguish, which allows us to consider the books not only as fiction but also as psychological literature. So, the story: In a World that is completely different from ours, living according to completely different laws (magic, other moral values, etc.), there is a “Small Detective Agency” that deals with various unusual incidents related to magic. One of the detective’s employees agency - Kofa Yoh - one day notices children who are behaving unusually strangely. They sit on the sidewalk with an absent look (for many hours on end), while normal children usually behave differently. He finds out that one of the children is the granddaughter of his old friend, the healer Gaba Gro. Kofa decides to find out what's going on. People start dying in the city. Kofa Yoh, together with his boss Juffin Halley, finds a pattern: someone who had a loved one always dies. Very close. So close that there is no one else except him. And every time after the murder, the relatives are visited by the healer Gaba Gro, helping to cope with grief. It turns out that Gaba has found a way to extract grief from himself, turning him into the likeness of a child (only an external resemblance). The person feels good. Only now Grief needs company, and it kills people so that it has comrades taken from relatives. If Grief is simply burned or tried to be killed, it physically disappears, but still returns to the owner’s body. The only way to get rid of him forever is to drown him. This is a long process: the body must become saturated with water and then slowly dissolve. In my opinion, this is a wonderful metaphorical illustration of the process of living through grief. ***- If I understand correctly, it all started with the arrival of your granddaughter?— You could say so. But... No, not since arrival. She, of course, never came from anywhere. I... How can I explain it to you? I let her out of me. “Did I let her out?” Out of yourself?! “It turns out that the girl whom everyone considered your granddaughter is your pain?” “This is my grief,” Gaba Gro nodded. “Brilliant!” - he exhaled. “This is the first time I’ve heard that this is possible.” Man is separate, and his grief is separate, material, humanized, charmingly corporeal. Unthinkable! There was a recipe “How to heal from grief.” I tried it on myself several times after I was widowed. And he improved it along the way. Initially, this was a way to get temporary relief, for a day, no more. But a day is not an option. So I looked for a way to make the medicine last longer. The quote perfectly illustrates the phenomenon of separating grief from oneself, as a form of resistance, in cases where the experiences are unbearably strong; and emphasizes a well-known psychological fact: no “recipe” can provide complete relief (especially if you do not experience grief inside, but put it outside, beyond the limits of awareness and experience). ***When many years of grief suddenly leaves you, or rather, it turns out not to be inside, buton the outside and looks like a beautiful little girl, you don’t expect anything bad. On the contrary, it seems that you even like it this way. (Sometimes people get so used to grieving - they get stuck in one of the stages of living - that grief seems to them something “native” and important, and definitely serves the function of escaping reality.) “Well, well,” Juffin sighed. - So they didn’t expect anything bad. Have you let your grief out and thought it will live next to you like a normal child? Grow up, learn to read and write, play with other children? Did you really count on this? (The conviction that one can live with grief and sadness). “Well, yes,” Gaba Gro was completely embarrassed. “That’s exactly how I imagined it at first.” And I became attached to her. I have never had children, grandchildren, or any second cousin nephews, and then suddenly this girl appears, who in some sense is part of me. So small, beautiful, calm... I fussed with her like a doll, bought clothes and toys, although, of course, they were not needed by her, but by myself - the illusion that there was a child living in my house that I was taking care of. She, of course, suffered greatly from loneliness. After all, my grief never asked me to make him human. The girl had long wanted to have friends like herself. I decided that I wouldn’t do anything on purpose, but if I ever meet a person who, like me, wants to get rid of suffering at any cost, I’ll explain to him what can be done, and if he agrees, I’ll try to help him. (A grieving person is more likely to Most of all, we strive to receive support from “our own kind”, based on the idea that they are more likely to be able to understand the severity of the experience - which is support for the uniqueness of the situation). ***There are very few people for whom the whole world dies together with their loved ones - fortunately. Man is born alone; strictly speaking, birth is the first step towards loneliness, these are the rules of the game into which we were all drawn without asking; complaints are not accepted. When a loved one appears, this is a wonderful event, a precious gift of fate, a welcome respite on the journey, but loneliness was, is and remains the natural state of every living creature. The inability to accept personal loneliness as the norm is a mental illness; it certainly needs to be treated, but certainly not in the way that Mr. Gro invented... (These are rather thoughts of an existential nature. The eternal question: loneliness or social dependence?). ***They have learned to identify people who are not yet suffering, but who have the potential to experience truly crushing, all-consuming grief. (after all, people really differ in the “potential” of the depth and intensity of their experiences). ***- You can’t just take grief and destroy it - neither your own nor someone else’s. There is definitely a connection between us. But not as you think. Now, if, say, you kill me, my grief will die with me. (Grief “lives” with a person, it is impossible to simply get rid of it. You can only live). ***- That's bad? - I asked. And I didn’t want to barge in on Gaba with questions, but I couldn’t restrain myself. He looked very pitiful, exhausted. He nodded silently and covered his face with his hands. “Tell me: do you feel bad because I destroyed this... your granddaughter?” Or has everything returned? “Both,” Gaba answered in an unfamiliar, croaking voice. -Yes, everything is back. Grief, as I said, is invulnerable. Having lost the body, and with it the opportunity to be outside, it did not go anywhere, it simply returned to its original place. (Resistance/psychological defenses can repress many thoughts and experiences, but they will still manifest themselves). ***—You won’t envy people, of course. But isn't it common to deal with grief on your own? Everyone lives like this.” “Your truth,” Dzhuffin agreed. “Still, this is a special case.” Fifty-three people, naturally endowed with the unenviable ability to experience extraordinary mental anguish, all experienced the loss of loved ones, the vast majority - very recently. Moreover,Twenty-three lost their loved ones solely for this reason - they were chosen for their special talent for suffering. Give them back their grief? Yes, even now, but, honestly, it would be much more merciful to kill them. Who cares, you have to understand people. And, perhaps, better than me. In some cases, suffering is indeed useful, because it strengthens a person. But not everyone. And each “not everyone” also has its own limit, after which it is no longer about benefit, but about meaningless torment. (These are descriptions of a “rhetorical” question - does everyone need psychotherapy? Or can someone cope with difficult experiences on their own? How to determine the “potential” of the depth of experiences? And is it necessary to do this?).— They themselves recently said that loneliness is a natural state person,” I finally said. — They say, everyone should be able to cope with it. — Theoretically, yes, everyone. I would prefer to live in a world where resilience and self-sufficiency are commonplace for everyone, without exception. But this, alas, does not mean that I already live in it. ***—Can you get Grief out of you again?—You’ll have to wait until it twists, otherwise nothing will work. But this requires medicine,” Gaba said hesitantly. (It is impossible to “go through” grief in a detached manner; to do this, you need to return to the most difficult experiences). ***—What is this anyway? Where did they come from? What is this all for? - he asked angrily. “Amazing creatures, aren’t they?” - Juffin echoed enthusiastically. “You can imagine what grief looks like if you expel it from a suffering heart and send it to frolic in freedom.” “Express yourself more clearly,” demanded Humkha. - Grief, you said? That is, every disgusting child is someone's grief, forcibly extracted from the unfortunate? Juffin nodded. “Then you are mistaken in believing that the world has never seen such a thing.” My grandfather, Shutta Yoh, with his own hands drove out grief from himself and drowned it in Khuron. After the death of his young wife, he was left with two sons in his arms and suffered so much that he could not raise the boys. Finally he decided that this was no good, pulled himself together and successfully got rid of grief. (Water as a symbol of life and purification. In this case, a way to cope with interfering grief; in real life, it is an analogue of living.) - Drowned in Khuron, you say? — Juffin asked in amazement. “Are you sure?” My grandfather took me for a walk on the banks of the Khuron more than once, showing me that three hundred years ago I drowned my grief in this place. Sometimes he expressed himself more forcefully. “Greedy creature” is what he called it. Now it’s clear why. “So he drowned.” And after that his mental anguish did not resume? “Juffin even stood up from his seat, he was so interested. - Because I just incinerated someone else's grief. And its owner immediately began to suffer again. (incineration - like a minute emotional explosion - beautiful, but not effective). - Incinerated! — Humkha snorted contemptuously. -Young people, what can I take from you... My grandfather was prudent: before driving grief out of himself, he found a way to get rid of it completely. Water instantly saturates it through and does not allow it to float to the surface, which is not bad. (End of the acute grief phase). And over time, grief simply dissolves in water. (Readaptation phase). If you place it in a pool for ablution, you will receive a concentrated solution of grief, which you can, for example, drink secret enemies with - they will not die, but they will lose joy for a long time, so, quite possibly, they will soon commit suicide on their own if a good healer won't turn up in time. ***- ABOUT! - Juffin said, pointing to Gabu. - And here the master has appeared. Have you collected your pills? Are you ready? - Yes, of course. I'd start right now if you don't mind. It’s already hard for me again, and it will only get worse. “Get started.” I hope the presence of one more spectator will not confuse you? - There is really nothing secret in this procedure, except for one rather intimate moment, but... Let's assume that I don't care. Meanwhile, Gaba calmly took the bottles out of his bag and laid them out on the floor. (Memories, events,thoughts).— Actually, on the fact that now I will have to prepare the medicine in front of you, since I could not do this in advance. This is a rather boring process, sorry.” “Unless now there will be a more or less interesting moment,” Gaba Gro said quietly. - Firstly, you need to add a drop of blood to the potion from the person who will take it. (A difficult and painful process). He stirred his aromatic mixture with concentration, quietly muttered something, bending over the flask. At first I thought it was spells, but it turned out he was just complaining, telling how bad he felt, without choosing words, stuttering every now and then: “I can’t live without you, I want to come to you, I can’t do it at all anymore, but what is this, why are you not there, everything is there, but you’re not there, but I can’t do that...” (Verbalization - translating thoughts into words - is the only effective way to help grief work). As I understand it, there was no special formula, you just had to talk it out a flask with a potion, and that’s it. Obviously, that very “intimate moment” that Gaba mentioned - yet in the presence of strangers it is not easy to allow yourself to become so limp. Finally, the healer fell silent, took the flask from the brazier, waited a couple of minutes, letting the potion cool a little, drank it in one gulp, collapsed to the floor, curled up, wrapped his arms around himself and howled quietly; inarticulate moans interspersed with the same plaintive lamentations: “I can’t,” “why aren’t you here,” “I want to come to you.” It's still a performance. If I had known in advance, I would have left the room, I’m not that curious. (Phase of acute grief). At first it seemed to me that Gaba was simply drooling from his mouth - not surprising, considering the state he was in. But looking closer, I saw that it looked more like clots of silvery-pink radiance - assuming, of course, that the radiance can be thick. Gaba Gro, meanwhile, was shaking with silent sobs, which were increasingly looking like agony. “Is he... bleeding with grief?” - I asked in a whisper. Juffin nodded silently. The puddle of silvery-pink light grew rapidly. At some point, it stopped spreading across the floor and gathered into a lump, the size of which increased at an almost frightening speed. At some point, it began to seem to me that a little more, and Gaba Gro’s grief would fill the entire room. About half an hour later, he suddenly calmed down, stood up, hastily took off his loohi and covered the shining ball. “That’s it,” Gaba Gro finally said. He was surprisingly cheerful and almost cheerful. - The job, one might say, is done. (After many months of suffering, there comes a moment when everything begins to fall into place. The process of “expiring” grief lasts about a year). *** “You’re not looking at me, you’re looking at the street,” Juffin said impatiently. “You see, they get up from the sidewalk and little by little gather around Sir Humhi... Listen, Kofa, it seems he’s telling them something.” I wonder what? - You can try listening. As if it were just someone else's silent speech. I think you can do it. And so do I. Instead of a more or less meaningful speech, a discordant chorus of such a crushing melancholy howl fell upon me that I could barely stand on my feet. Everything would be fine, but for a moment it seemed to me that it didn’t just sound in my head, but was a part of me, that is, I myself was experiencing anguish that was tearing my heart apart, and I was also screaming myself, and... Oh no. (They didn’t talk alone, but when they got together and found “free ears”, it became possible to complain. This is a clear example of the advantage of group work over individual work in such cases). - Oh, but you didn’t understand anything! — Juffin perked up. - Sir Humkha doesn’t tell them anything. He listens to them. Listens very carefully and sympathetically. Probably, he also assents in the right places. In fact of the matter! (The role of an attentive and professional group therapist). And they complain, in unison, vying with each other. We have finally met a suitable listener and are taking our souls away. Or rather, they fulfill their purpose. Actually, what else can grief do other than complain? The story ended well, like most cases when a talented and talented person comes across the path of an unfortunate grieving person..