"Someone that you have deprived of everything is no longer in your power. He is once again entirely free."
Solzhenitsyn describes in detail how Stalin's forceful grasp of power actually makes him less powerful. In removing liberty from state traitors, he has given them the gift of true authority because they are free from social expectation, responsibility, or exceptional loss. By losing physical power, these prisoners become ultimately more powerful than Stalin, who is obsessed with control and unable to control himself as a result.
"So in our own poor hides and from our miserable comrades we learn the nature of society. Satiety depends not at all on how much we eat, but on how we eat. It's the same with happiness, the very same. . . happiness doesn't depend on how many external blessings we have snatched from life. It depends only on our attitude toward them. There's a saying about it in the Taoist ethic: 'Whoever is capable of contentment will always be satisfied.'"
In his depiction of the gulag prisoners, Solzhenitsyn reveals the power of the mind over its own will. In remaining grateful for every piece of food they receive, these men are more satisfied by their food than the ones who have never had to worry about hunger. The scarcity of the resource means less than the attitude of the recipient. Through the defiant practice of gratitude, these troubled prisoners find contentment because they have found the limits of their own power.
"Just as King Midas turned everything to gold, Stalin turned everything to mediocrity."
In an apt analogy, Solzhenitsyn explains Stalin's weakness as a leader. Since Midas was obsessed with wealth, he became powerful enough to manifest all the wealth he could desire. In doing so he learned that unlimited wealth has no meaning. He's doomed to a hollow, lonely existence. In the same way, Stalin is obsessed with power and becomes externally competent at seizing it. As time progresses, however, Stalin learns that stolen power is inferior to authentic power which is manifest in integrity and community. Ultimately he elevates the expectations of power from his people until power loses all meaning.
"Relations between a man and a woman are always strange: nothing can be foreseen, they have no predictable direction, no law. Sometimes you come to a dead end, where there is nothing to do but sit down and weep; all the words have been said, and to no purpose; all the arguments have been thought of, and shattered. But then sometimes, at a chance look or word, the wall doesn't start to crack, but simply melts away. And where there was nothing but darkness, a clear path appears again, where two people can walk."
Solzhenitsyn here reveals his cynicism. He does not hold human connection in high esteem, yet keeps it at arms length as an elusive animal of prey he continually chases. In his estimation, relationships are unpredictable series of futile communication, subject solely to chance in their success.
