“The world is ruled by money” essay

Money. Money rules the world. Money can do anything. If people treated money as a means of existence, the rich would be much happier, much more valuable, because they would think more about others, their life would not belong to money, it could be beautiful.

But they devote their lives to making money, then to live on this money. So does the gentleman from San Francisco from Bunin’s story. Money for him is the goal, and not a means of implementing his plans and desires. Money is what he lives for. The description of his whole life, fifty-eight years, is only half a page. We see that he has never had a real, full and happy life. He also sees it and therefore arranges a two-year journey dedicated to himself. He thinks that he will finally rest, entertain and live. But in his whole life he did not learn to enjoy life, the sun, in the morning, he did not learn to enjoy the pleasant little things, from sensations and feelings. He simply did not have feelings and sensations.


he does not experience joy and rest. The gentleman from San Francisco has always been convinced that pleasure can be bought, and now that he has a lot of money, there will be many pleasures. But he was wrong. He bought expensive cigars, the best rooms, the company of “high society”, a lot of expensive food. But he did not buy what he really needs happiness. He was not accustomed to joys, he kept putting his life off until later, but when she came, as he thought, he simply could not take advantage of it. He knows exactly what to do: behave like other rich people, the so-called “cream of society.” He goes to the theater not because he wants to enjoy the show, but because others do it. He does not go to temples to admire their beauty and pray, but because it is so necessary. Church for him is emptiness, monotony, a place where there are no words and, consequently, boring. He thinks that if he does things that others give pleasure, then they will give pleasure to him. The gentleman from San Francisco does not understand the joys of other people, he does not understand why he is unhappy,
and this makes him irritable. It seems to him that he only needs to change his place, and it will be better for him that the weather, the city, is to blame for everything, but not himself. He never had to feel happy. that everything is to blame for the weather, the city, but not himself. He never had to feel happy. that everything is to blame for the weather, the city, but not himself. He never had to feel happy.

The gentleman from San Francisco contemptuously treats people below his position, because they can not pay for everything as he does. They exist to serve him (“He walked along the corridor, and the servants huddled on the walls, but he did not notice them”).

There is no spiritual beginning, no sense of beauty. He does not notice the beautiful scenery from the open window. (“Out of the darkness the air of the air danced on him, the tip of an old palm tree, spreading through the stars its vayi, which seemed to be gigantic, seemed to be heard, the distant, even sound of the sea…”) A gentleman from San Francisco does not see the beauty of nature, him after his death. The open window symbolizes the world that is open before him, but which he is not able to enjoy. He casually looks at the German in the reading room, “looking like Isben, in silver round glasses and with crazy, bewildered eyes,” because he does not want to think about what he would be if he had begun to live earlier if he had learned to be surprised by the surrounding the world. He just shut himself off from this German, from the window, from the whole world by a newspaper.

The gentleman from San Francisco lives a measured life, without shocks, without surprises, nothing ever changes in the daily routine. He eats and drinks a lot. But whether it delivers food to him. Probably not. And if so, then it does not change anything. It’s just that his stomach requires food, a lot of food, and the gentleman from San Francisco serves him, panders to him.

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“The world is ruled by money” essay