Wisely anticipating any objections which might be raised with regard to climatic differences between the Caucasus and other regions farther to the north, the author of the article reminded his readers that the goatibex would hardly suffer from the cold, since on his father’s side he had been raised in the high alpine meadows of the Caucasian mountains.
Platon Samsonovich was quietly exultant. At our last staff meeting only a few days before, he had announced rather precipitously that it was time to challenge the State of Iowa, our competitor in the production of corn, to compete with us in goatibex breeding.
“But they don’t even raise goatibexes,” objected Avtandil Avtandilovich, though not without a shade of uncertainty in his voice.
“Well, just let them try and see how they do under their private enterprise system,” replied Platon Samsonovich.
“I’ll have to consult some colleagues on this,” said Avtandil Avtandilovich. Then by way of indicating that the meeting was adjourned, he switched on his office fan.
This fan stood on a table directly across from his desk and he would always turn it off at the beginning of each meeting. At such moments, with his head rising directly above the greasy blades of the fan, he looked like a pilot who had just flown in from distant parts. Later on, upon closing the meeting, he would once again switch on the fan and his face would tense, as if he were about to lift off.
The day after the meeting Platon Samsonovich was informed by the editor that he would have to wait as far as the State of Iowa was concerned.
“Just between us, he’s one of these play-it-safe types,” Platon Samsonovich later confided to me, nodding in the direction of the editor’s office.
Under the heading “On the Trail of the Goatibex” there once appeared a letter from the staff members of an agricultural research institute in Ciscaucasia. They reported that they had been following our undertaking with interest and had themselves already crossed a Ciscaucasian ibex with a common goat. The first ibexigoat was reported to be in excellent health and growing by leaps and bounds.
Writing on behalf of all the goatibex fans in Transcaucasia, Platon Samsonovich congratulated our northern colleagues on their great success and predicted that they would be even more successful in the future if they continued to stick to the diet which he had worked out for the new animal. He concluded by declaring that he had always known it would be they, the Ciscaucasians — our brothers and closest neighbors to the north, who would be the first to follow our lead in this new undertaking.
The letter from Ciscaucasia was printed verbatim except that in place of the word “ibexigoat” Platon Samsonovich substituted the term “goatibex” adopted by us.
For some reason or other the authors of the letter were offended by this harmless correction and shortly thereafter sent a letter of protest to the editor in which they stated that they had never even considered feeding their ibexigoat according to our diet, but were feeding and would continue to feed it strictly according to the diet worked out by their own professional staff. In addition, they felt obliged to point out that the term “goatibex” was completely unscientific. The very fact (and facts cannot be denied!) that it was a male ibex which was crossed with a female goat, and not vice versa, clearly indicated the predominance of the ibex over the goat — a circumstance which should, of course, be reflected in the animal’s name if one were to approach the matter with scientific precision.
The term “goatibex,” they went on, would be justified only if one succeeded in crossing a male goat with a female ibex, and even this would be stretching things a bit. In such a case, however, there would be no further grounds for argument since we would be dealing with two different animals produced by two different means, a situation which would naturally justify the use of different names. In any case, you can go on experimenting with your goatibexes if you wish, but we for our part will continue in the future, as we have in the past, to stick to our ibexigoats.
Such was the general tone and content of the letter from our colleagues in Ciscaucasia.
“We’ll have to print it; they are specialists, after all,” said Avtandil Avtandilovich as he handed the letter to Platon Samsonovich. Apparently he had considered it of sufficient importance to deliver in person.
Platon Samsonovich quickly scanned the letter and then threw it down on the desk.
“Well, only if it goes in the ‘Laughing at the Skeptics’ column,” he said.
“We can’t do that,” objected Avtandil Avtandilovich. “These are specialists expressing their opinion. And besides, you did take liberties with their first letter.”
“The whole country knows about the goatibex,” protested Platon Samsonovich, “but no one’s even heard of the ibexigoat.”
“That’s true,” agreed Avtandil Avtandilovich, “and the Moscow press did use our name.… But where did you get the idea that they were using our diet?”
“What other diet could they be using?” retorted Platon Samsonovich, shrugging his shoulders. “Up to now, everyone’s been using our diet…”
“Well, all right,” agreed Avtandil Avtandilovich after a moment’s reflection, “write up an intelligent reply, and we’ll present both items in the form of a friendly debate.”
“I’ll have it ready today,” exclaimed Platon Samsonovich, perking up at the very thought. He reached for a red pencil and took the specialists’ letter in hand.
Avtandil Avtandilovich left the office.
“The schoolboy’s trying to out-teach the teacher,” muttered Platon Samsonovich, nodding his head so vaguely that I was not sure whether he was referring to the editor or to his unexpected opponents from the north.
Several days later the two items appeared in the newspaper. Platon Samsonovich’s reply was entitled “To Our Colleagues beyond the Mountains” and written in an aggressive spirit. He began with a distant analogy. Just as America was discovered by Columbus, but given the name America in honor of the adventurer Amerigo Vespucci who, as everyone knows, did not discover America, so, in similar fashion, wrote Platon Samsonovich, our Ciscaucasian colleagues are trying to give their name to someone else’s creation.
When we corrected the awkward and imprecise name “ibexigoat” in our colleagues’ first letter by inserting the euphonious and universally-accepted term “goatibex,” we assumed that they had merely made a slip of the pen — all the more so since the extremely naive and somewhat immature contents of the letter did not preclude the possibility of such a slip or even of a simple confusion of terms. We perceived all this at first glance, but printed the letter all the same, considering it our duty to support a still weak and hesitant but nonetheless purely motivated attempt to keep pace with the most advanced experiments of our time.
But what do we now find to be the case? It turns out that what we assumed to be a slip of the pen or a simple confusion of terms was actually the false and harmful manifestation of a whole system of beliefs. And since it is always the system itself one might fight, we hereby take up the gauntlet flung down from beyond the mountains.
Is it perhaps possible, continued Platon Samsonovich, that the name “ibexigoat,” for all its clumsiness, may from the scientific point of view more accurately reflect the essence of the new creature? No, even here our colleagues from beyond the mountains have fallen wide of the mark. The real essence of the new creature is expressed precisely in the name “goatibex,” since it is this name which accurately reflects the primacy of man over untamed nature. Thus it is the domestic goat, known even to the ancient Greeks, which, as the more advanced species, occupies first place in our variant, thereby reaffirming the principle that it is man who conquers nature and not vice versa — which would indeed be monstrous.