Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (book club recommendations TXT) đ
- Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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âYours till death,
âPULCHERIA RASKOLNIKOV.â
Almost from the first, while he read the letter, Raskolnikovâs face was wet with tears; but when he finished it, his face was pale and distorted and a bitter, wrathful and malignant smile was on his lips. He laid his head down on his threadbare dirty pillow and pondered, pondered a long time. His heart was beating violently, and his brain was in a turmoil. At last he felt cramped and stifled in the little yellow room that was like a cupboard or a box. His eyes and his mind craved for space. He took up his hat and went out, this time without dread of meeting anyone; he had forgotten his dread. He turned in the direction of the Vassilyevsky Ostrov, walking along Vassilyevsky Prospect, as though hastening on some business, but he walked, as his habit was, without noticing his way, muttering and even speaking aloud to himself, to the astonishment of the passers-by. Many of them took him to be drunk.
His motherâs letter had been a torture to him, but as regards the chief fact in it, he had felt not one momentâs hesitation, even whilst he was reading the letter. The essential question was settled, and irrevocably settled, in his mind: âNever such a marriage while I am alive and Mr. Luzhin be damned!â âThe thing is perfectly clear,â he muttered to himself, with a malignant smile anticipating the triumph of his decision. âNo, mother, no, Dounia, you wonât deceive me! and then they apologise for not asking my advice and for taking the decision without me! I dare say! They imagine it is arranged now and canât be broken off; but we will see whether it can or not! A magnificent excuse: âPyotr Petrovitch is such a busy man that even his wedding has to be in post-haste, almost by express.â No, Dounia, I see it all and I know what you want to say to me; and I know too what you were thinking about, when you walked up and down all night, and what your prayers were like before the Holy Mother of Kazan who stands in motherâs bedroom. Bitter is the ascent to Golgotha.... Hm... so it is finally settled; you have determined to marry a sensible business man, Avdotya Romanovna, one who has a fortune (has already made his fortune, that is so much more solid and impressive), a man who holds two government posts and who shares the ideas of our most rising generation, as mother writes, and who seems to be kind, as Dounia herself observes. That seems beats everything! And that very Dounia for that very âseemsâ is marrying him! Splendid! splendid!
â... But I should like to know why mother has written to me about âour most rising generationâ? Simply as a descriptive touch, or with the idea of prepossessing me in favour of Mr. Luzhin? Oh, the cunning of them! I should like to know one thing more: how far they were open with one another that day and night and all this time since? Was it all put into words, or did both understand that they had the same thing at heart and in their minds, so that there was no need to speak of it aloud, and better not to speak of it. Most likely it was partly like that, from motherâs letter itâs evident: he struck her as rude a little, and mother in her simplicity took her observations to Dounia. And she was sure to be vexed and âanswered her angrily.â I should think so! Who would not be angered when it was quite clear without any naĂŻve questions and when it was understood that it was useless to discuss it. And why does she write to me, âlove Dounia, Rodya, and she loves you more than herselfâ? Has she a secret conscience-prick at sacrificing her daughter to her son? âYou are our one comfort, you are everything to us.â Oh, mother!â
His bitterness grew more and more intense, and if he had happened to meet Mr. Luzhin at the moment, he might have murdered him.
âHm... yes, thatâs true,â he continued, pursuing the whirling ideas that chased each other in his brain, âit is true that âit needs time and care to get to know a man,â but there is no mistake about Mr. Luzhin. The chief thing is he is âa man of business and seems kind,â that was something, wasnât it, to send the bags and big box for them! A kind man, no doubt after that! But his bride and her mother are to drive in a peasantâs cart covered with sacking (I know, I have been driven in it). No matter! It is only ninety versts and then they can âtravel very comfortably, third class,â for a thousand versts! Quite right, too. One must cut oneâs coat according to oneâs cloth, but what about you, Mr. Luzhin? She is your bride.... And you must be aware that her mother has to raise money on her pension for the journey. To be sure itâs a matter of business, a partnership for mutual benefit, with equal shares and expenses;âfood and drink provided, but pay for your tobacco. The business man has got the better of them, too. The luggage will cost less than their fares and very likely go for nothing. How is it that they donât both see all that, or is it that they donât want to see? And they are pleased, pleased! And to think that this is only the first blossoming, and that the real fruits are to come! But what really matters is not the stinginess, is not the meanness, but the tone of the whole thing. For that will be the tone after marriage, itâs a foretaste of it. And mother too, why should she be so lavish? What will she have by the time she gets to Petersburg? Three silver roubles or two âpaper onesâ as she says.... that old woman... hm. What does she expect to live upon in Petersburg afterwards? She has her reasons already for guessing that she could not live with Dounia after the marriage, even for the first few months. The good man has no doubt let slip something on that subject also, though mother would deny it: âI shall refuse,â says she. On whom is she reckoning then? Is she counting on what is left of her hundred and twenty roubles of pension when Afanasy Ivanovitchâs debt is paid? She knits woollen shawls and embroiders cuffs, ruining her old eyes. And all her shawls donât add more than twenty roubles a year to her hundred and twenty, I know that. So she is building all her hopes all the time on Mr. Luzhinâs generosity; âhe will offer it of himself, he will press it on me.â You may wait a long time for that! Thatâs how it always is with these Schilleresque noble hearts; till the last moment every
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