Darkness at Noon: The Third Hearing: 3 Summary & Analysis

Rubashov wonders why it’s taking so long to be taken to Ivanov. He smiles at the trouble his letter must have caused the “theorists” of the central committee, a separate group from “politicians,” though this distinction is relatively recent. During the war their discussions had been both theoretical and applied: now the days of philosophizing have ceded to an insistence on simple, graspable dogma, a catechism with No. 1 as priest.

Rubashov knows that today’s “theorists” would find his letter to be heresy: he criticized the doctrine’s father, treated No. 1 historically rather than reverentially, and flouted the dogma that they’re trained to instill in everyone. No. 1 asks them to do things like prove that America is in a depression when it’s experiencing an economic boom: a “grotesque comedy,” Rubashov thinks, all meant to strengthen the dictatorship. Open congresses have become secret, behind-the-scenes decisions. Rubashov yearns to be back in a library embarking on revolutionary philosophy: he reflects that No. 402’s understanding of honor belongs to another time, and he longs to write a massive book on the history of democracy and develop his theories.

Rubashov’s toothache is gone and he feels nervously impatient. He continues to work, but has to stop short when he lacks documents. He wonders why Ivanov hasn’t fetched him like he promised. Late that night, Rubashov taps against the wall and, when No. 402 doesn’t respond, he feels humiliated. Time slows almost to a still: he shuts his eyes and imagines Arlova lying next to him. He wonders about the 2,000 men in the cells of this prison: if history is calculation how much does the sum of their nightmares weigh?

Then two uniformed officials enter Rubashov’s cell and order him to follow them. He’s taken the same way as Bogrov had been, and Rubashov wonders uneasily (though without fear) where they’re going. He decides that if they beat him he’ll sign anything, and simply recall it the next day. He thinks again of his “theory of relative maturity” and feels relieved. Then he’s marched into a room like Ivanov’s office, but behind the desk is Gletkin.

In a monotone, Gletkin tells Rubashov to sit down and then says that he will examine Rubashov in Ivanov’s absence. Rubashov says that he would rather be interviewed by Ivanov, but Gletkin tells him that the authorities appoint the examiner. Thinking quickly, Rubashov decides that something must have gone wrong with Ivanov. The new school is embodied by the brute force of Gletkin, not the mental agility and wit of someone like Ivanov. Rubashov knows he can’t stay silent: the old group has to come to terms with the new, and Rubashov does, now, feel old.

Rubashov says he’s ready to make a statement, but only if Gletkin stops the tricks and turns down the harsh light. Gletkin reminds Rubashov of the gravity of the charges, and says he doesn’t realize the vulnerability of his position. This generation has no traditions, Rubashov thinks: it started to think only after the Revolution and Civil War.

Rubashov says he’ll do anything to serve the Party, but he wants to know what the accusation is. He suddenly realizes that he has as much power over Gletkin as Gletkin has over him, even if Gletkin thinks it’s his own tricks, not Ivanov’s arguments, that have made Rubashov capitulate. Rubashov once again thinks angrily of the barbarism of the new leaders—even if a generation of brutes is now needed. As Gletkin reads out the plots in a monotone, Rubashov is incredulous, thinking Gletkin can’t possibly think they’re real. He listens to the accusations about consorting with a foreign power, sabotaging materials, and others.

Rubashov looks at the small, thin stenographer in the corner, clearly convinced by the accusations. The crowning one is about the plot for an attempt on No. 1’s life. The X mentioned by Ivanov comes up again: he’s the assistant manager of the restaurant where No. 1 often has lunch, and Rubashov was to poison No. 1’s lunch. At the end, Rubashov says he pleads guilty to everything. He acknowledges that his opposition would have become a mortal danger to the Revolution, that humanitarian weakness is suicide for the Revolution. He admits that his desires were for liberal reform, but were ultimately counter-revolutionary. But he also says he had nothing to do with the criminal charges.

Gletkin says that this is nothing new: Rubashov has made similar statements two years ago, then twelve months ago. Rubashov says he made those declarations for tactical purposes, like everyone who had to do so to remain in the party: this time he’s sincere. When Gletkin asks if he lied before to save his neck, Rubashov assents. Gletkin asks if the same was true for his betrayal of Arlova, which led to her death: Rubashov says he’s aware of this, and, sensing the irony, that it’s possible she was innocent. He feels a powerless rage and wonders if he or Gletkin is the bigger scoundrel.

Rubashov recognizes that Gletkin is right not to believe him: he himself is now lost in a labyrinth of lies and illusions. He says that he only asks now to prove his devotion to the Party. Gletkin says he needs a complete, public confession of all his criminal activities. His nerves throbbing, he says he can’t confess to crimes he hasn’t committed. Gletkin concurs, with a slight hint of mockery in his voice.

Rubashov’s memory flags: later he thinks he may have fallen asleep, dreaming of luminous landscapes and the poplars of his father’s estate. Then Gletkin’s voice booms over him, asking if he recognizes a third person now in the room: it’s Hare-lip. When Gletkin asks if Rubashov has seen this man before, a faint memory seizes Rubashov and he says he may have. Gletkin says that Rubashov’s memory is known in the Party to be excellent, but Rubashov can’t place the man.

Gletkin turns to Hare-lip, who says in a deep, resounding voice, that Citizen Rubashov ordered him to poison the Party’s leader. Rubashov met him after a reception in the Trade Delegation at B, Hare-lip says. Now the mists clear and Rubashov says that he initially didn’t recognize Professor Kieffer’s son. Rubashov thinks of his friend Kieffer, the great historian of the Revolution who was in the famous congress photograph. Kieffer was perhaps No. 1’s sole personal friend, along with his chess partner and collaborator. Kieffer was commissioned to write No. 1’s biography, but after ten years it remained unpublished: now certain changes had to be made, but Kieffer was stubborn, failing to understand the new expectations.

Hare-lip continues, saying that his father and he had made a detour to B to visit Rubashov: Rubashov remembers that this was correct. That evening they all met at Rubashov’s house, where he served alcohol. Gletkin interrupts to prod Hare-lip to say that Rubashov intended to intoxicate him. The two older men reminisced for a while, Hare-lip says: he’d never seen his father in such a good mood. Gletkin reminds Hare-lip that three months later, his father’s crimes would be discovered, and Kieffer would be executed three months after that. Gletkin asks Hare-lip if, at that time, Kieffer was involved in such criminal activities, and if Rubashov shared Kieffer’s opinions: the answer is yes to both.

Hare-lip says that the two men talked scornfully about the present state of affairs of the party. Kieffer had laughed at Rubashov’s decision to make a declaration of loyalty to No. 1, and Rubashov had called him an old fool and Don Quixote: they must hold out the longest and “wait for the hour” when the leader would be removed. No. 1 was the embodiment of a certain characteristic, the belief in the infallibility of one’s own beliefs, so he’d never resign, but could only be removed by force. To Gletkin’s question, Hare-lip responds that Rubashov did stress the necessity to use violence. It strikes Rubashov that, while he can’t remember the conversation accurately, he has no doubt that Hare-lip can remember it. Then Rubashov wonders if Hare-lip had, in fact, gathered the conclusion from Rubashov’s words that he wanted to assassinate No.1.

Then Gletkin asks Hare-lip if what followed was Rubashov’s direct instigation to violence. After a silence, Gletkin asks if Hare-lip needs his memory jogged. Hare-lip, licking his lips in fear, says that the next morning, while he was alone with Rubashov, the instigation took place. Rubashov smiles, realizing that the idea that Kieffer would have been present for such a plot was too absurd even for this group.

Rubashov, after confirming that he has the right to ask questions, asks Hare-lip if he’d just finished his university studies when he and his father came to visit. Rubashov says that he remembers the boy was meant to start working under his father at the Institute of Historical Research, at least up until his father’s arrest. That meant that Hare-lip had to find another way of earning his living—such that at the time of the meeting, neither of them could have foreseen his future job at the restaurant. The alleged instigation to murder would have been impossible.

Hare-lip looks at Gletkin in fear and astonishment. Rubashov feels fleetingly triumphant, but the feeling vanishes. Quietly, Gletkin says no one asserted that the instructions restricted the murderer to poison: Rubashov gave the order, then left the means up to the murderer. This contradicts his earlier statement, but Rubashov suddenly feels indifferent: none of this makes any difference to his guilt. He does feel vaguely that an injustice is being done, but he cannot rouse himself to indignation. Hare-lip leaves, and Gletkin asks if the confession is true in the essential points: Rubashov recognizes the slippage, and he agrees that “in the essential points” it is. Suddenly, Gletkin asks if the harsh light disturbs him. The crudeness makes Rubashov smile, but the milder light is in fact better. But then Rubashov adds, that it’s true except for one essential point alone. At the time, he meant political action, not individual terrorism: mass action. Gletkin says that would have led to civil war all the same—he really puts that much value on the distinction?

Now Rubashov feels indifferent about this too. Whoever opposes a dictatorship must accept civil war, and vice versa. Years ago he’d written a polemic against the moderates: now he too is condemned. He feels like he sees No. 1, not Gletkin, in front of him, and he thinks of the cemetery at Errancis that holds Saint-Just, Robespierre, and their fellow executed comrades. The gateway bore the inscription “Dormir,” to sleep.

Feeling sleepy himself, Rubashov reads through his statement, feels a sudden desire to tear it up, then returns it to Gletkin intact. The next he can remember, he’s walking through the hallway to his cell, and he falls asleep immediately. When he wakes up, the official is back: the examination is to continue.