Chapter 12 One of the "Youth" fragments

Here are two interludes to illustrate the lesson, and then finish the story in one breath. In July, just two months before I went to Petersburg, Marya Ivanovna sent me to a neighboring place on business, it doesn't matter what.On the train back to Moscow, I noticed a young brunette, acne-prone, well-dressed, but filthy.At every stop, he got off the train and ran to the wine counter to drink soju.The compartment in which he was in was surrounded by a jovial and wild crowd.The boisterous group of travelers admired the young alcoholic's ability to drink without getting drunk, and tried to indulge him in drinking more.The best part of the job was a slightly drunk businessman and a tall, lanky guy in German clothes, the businessman's valet, a lot of nonsense, and a bad breath.The young man who was greedy for drinking and drinking too much was reticent. He listened to his companions yelling, with a smirk on his face, sometimes bursting into laughter, but always laughing inappropriately, and at that time he uttered a few vague syllables, "huh... um... Huh," while pressing his finger to the tip of his nose, to the delight of the merchant, servant, and all.I approached to join in the fun, and to be honest, although his behavior was stupid, I didn't hate the college youth who dropped out of school.Soon we were called you, and when I got off the train I noted that he was waiting for me on the Boulevard de Quivers at nine o'clock that night.

I am on time for my appointment.This brother asked me to play together, and the gameplay is as follows: We fell in love with a woman from a good family, and we walked with her from left to right without saying a word.We acted nonchalantly, as if there were no women around at all.We spoke scrupulously about obscenities, asked questions and answered them perfectly, even though I knew nothing about sex at the time but words (childhood tales) and no technique.The woman panicked and quickened her pace, and we quickened our pace, continuing our obscene conversation.What about the victim?No witnesses, and reporting to the police is always tricky...

We went on for eight days with this vulgar joke.Did I find it funny at the time?It's hard to say now: at first this farce amused me because of the surprises, and besides, I'm a misogynist... I once told the student that Jean Jacques confessed that in his youth he liked to lie in ambush in a certain corner and fiddle with his genitals. He got a high erection, and the woman passing by was startled dumbfounded.His answer was "huh... um... huh".He knew nothing about it, his eyes were darkened, and he had no interest in it.The advice I frankly gave him didn't make any sense to him, and his art of fooling around was deadly monotonous.The bastard became more and more annoying to me, and finally broke off, and the situation was as follows:

Our usual unreasonable and narrow-minded woman, this time a girl in a hurry, on the boulevard at night.She is at most sixteen years old, maybe she just got off work, maybe her mother is waiting for her at home, maybe she is still a poor widow who supports the whole family... I suddenly became sentimental... We exchanged dirty words... The girl is like a cornered animal, in the dark of night speed up.Suddenly, she stopped abruptly, and out of breath, she tore off the scarf that wrapped her thin face, her eyes sparkled suddenly, and she said: "Hmm! Shameless bastard!" I thought she was going to burst into tears.Otherwise, it was too late to say it, and she waved her hand and slapped the college student loudly, right in the face of that idiot.He was about to fight back, but I held him back, and the girl escaped.

When it was just the two of us, we started arguing.I poured out all the disgust in my heart, saying that he was ignorant, incompetent, mean and obscene.He called me a bastard (I myself privately told him I was bastard).We cursed and spat at each other.From then on, I never saw him again. I was furious, but the annoyance subsided the next day, and I forgot all about it by the third.When I arrived in Petersburg, looking back at that scene, I was ashamed and wept bitterly, and I still feel very uncomfortable thinking about it today.How could I be so vile and forget about it?Now I understand: The Idea dismisses as meaningless everything that does not belong to it, prematurely erases my deserved pain, comforts me, and forgives me for my worst mistakes.I brought this idea from my mother's womb, but it's offensive.

Now for the second thing: On April 1st last year some people came to Marya Ivanovna's for a festive evening.Suddenly Agrippina came rushing in like a gust of wind to report that she had just found a foundling outside the kitchen door.Everyone scrambled to watch, but saw a three or four-year-old baby girl lying in a basket and crying.I picked up the basket and carried it into the kitchen.Pinned to the baby girl was a note, which read: "Dear benefactors, have pity on little Alina! She has been baptized. We bless you forever. We wish you a happy holiday."—You who don't know each other People." Nikolai Simeonovich made me sad, although I respected him very much, because he behaved inhumanly: he had no children, but he insisted on sending the baby girl immediately to an orphanage.I picked the baby up from the basket, smelled the choking, sour smell, held the baby in my arms, and announced that I would raise her.Nikolai Simeonovich, however good-hearted he was, immediately declared that he could not help it, and insisted on sending him to an asylum.But in the end I did as I wished.

Another house in the same yard went to a drunken old carpenter, but his wife was young and strong.This poor family finally had an only daughter after eight years of marriage, but she died before weaning. By coincidence, their baby girl was also named Alina.I said "coincidence", because the woman heard the sound and went into the kitchen to watch the excitement, and when she heard the baby girl's name, she couldn't help but feel compassion.Her milk hadn't dried up yet, so she unbuttoned her blouse on the spot, took out her breast and fed it to little Alnia.Does the woman agree to take paid childcare?She couldn't answer me right away, it was up to her husband to decide, but at least she promised to watch over little Alynia that night.The next day I made a deal with the couple, I prepaid eight rubles for the first month, and my husband immediately took it to the bar and spent it.Nikolai Simeonovich kindly vouched for my solvency.I insisted on giving him sixty rubles, but he refused to take it, so our little quarrel was settled.Marya Ivanovna said nothing, but she was evidently surprised that I had volunteered to bear such a burden.Neither of them took the opportunity to joke, and I appreciate their kindness.

Three times a day I went to Darya Rodivonovna's.A week later I secretly gave her three rubles behind her husband's back, and spent another three rubles on a bedding and swaddling clothes.But after ten days of being a father, my youngest daughter fell ill.I went to the doctor, and we tossed Alinea all night, giving her medicine.The next day, the doctor announced that she was dying.To my question, or rather to my questioning, he replied: "I'm not a god!"She died that night, and when she died, she stared at me with her big black eyes, as if she already understood what was going on.Why didn't I think of taking pictures of the little dead?Not only did I cry that night, but I cried out loud, which was unprecedented for me.Marya Ivanovna was kind and persuasive.The carpenter made the coffin himself.Everyone buried Ariana... I can't forget these things.

This unfortunate incident caused me to think deeply.Alynya didn't cost me much: foster care, doctor, coffin, funeral, flowers, thirty rubles in all.I got this money back when I left Moscow: I saved some from the travel expenses that Versilov sent me, and I sold some small things.In this way, my capital is intact, but I thought to myself: "But I can't get far if I hang around like this." From my adventures with college students, I came to this conclusion: "idea" may change everything around me. It was so dark that I lost my sense of reality; judging by my unfortunate encounter with Ariania, the main focus of The Idea was at the mercy of emotion.The two conclusions contradict each other, but both are correct.