Chapter 15 "Kingdom of Women"

"Kingdom of Women" One, the night before Here is a large stack of banknotes.This is from the manager of the villa in the forest. He wrote in the letter: He remitted fifteen hundred rubles, which he had obtained from so-and-so in accordance with the judgment of the second instance of the court.Anna Akimovna disliked and was afraid of such words as "judgment" and "successful."She knew she could do without the judiciary, but for some reason, whenever Nazaritch, the manager of the factory, or the superintendent of the villa, who used to fight with others, won a case for her, she was always terrified, as if she had a guilty conscience.Now she too was frightened and uncomfortable, and she wanted to put the five thousand dollars away so she wouldn't see it.

She thought anxiously: She is twenty-six years old, and those women of her age are now doing housework, and when they are tired, they will sleep soundly, and wake up tomorrow morning with a happy mood, like a festival .Many of them are already married and have children.She was alone, for some reason, sitting like an old woman, reading these letters, adding comments to them, writing replies, and then doing nothing all evening, until midnight, just waiting to get sleepy. To go to bed; and tomorrow, many people will come to worship all day long and ask her for various things; the day after tomorrow, something will happen in the factory, for example, someone was beaten, or someone died of alcoholism, she would feel a pang of conscience for some reason; and when the festival was over, Nazarich would fire some twenty people for absenteeism, and those twenty people would take off their hats and come together to her door and stand there. She refused to leave, but she was too embarrassed to go out to meet them. When they arrived, they were chased away like dogs.So all the acquaintances would talk behind her back and write anonymous letters to her, saying that she was a rich man, an exploiter, and that she devoured the lives of others and sucked the blood of workers.

There was a stack of letters on the side of the table, which she had read and put aside. Those were all letters of complaint.Among those who wrote the letters were those who were hungry, some who were drunk, some who had a large family with heavy burdens, some who were sick, some who were humiliated, and some who were underappreciated. ...Anna Akimovna has added a comment to each letter, some for three rubles, some for five, and these letters will be sent to the counting house today, and tomorrow the relief money will be distributed in the counting house , or in the words of the clerks, "feed the beast."

There were four hundred and seventy rubles to be distributed here and there, interest on a deposit which the late Akim Ivanitch had made in his will for the benefit of the poor.Tomorrow will be unbearably crowded.From the gate to the tent door there would be a long line of strangers, hideous, ragged, cold, hungry, drunk, singing hoarsely about their benefactor Anna Akimovna and her parents. some.People in the back crowded the people in front, and the people in front yelled and cursed.Annoyed by the noise, cursing and crying, the clerks in the tent jumped out and slapped someone in the face, much to the amusement of everyone.Her own people, those workers, got nothing but wages before the festival. At this time, they had spent all their wages to nothing. They stood in the yard watching and laughing, some envious, some cynicism.

"Businessmen, and especially their wives, often prefer beggars to their workers," thought Anna Akimovna. "It's always been that way." Her eyes fell on the stack of banknotes.It would be all right to distribute this unneeded, nasty money to the workers tomorrow, but it is not good to give the workers money for free. If they do, they will come back for it next time.Besides, there are a total of more than 1,800 workers in the factory, not counting their wives and children, so what's the point of the 1,500 workers?Or, here's what to do: choose one unfortunate person from among those who have written to help, who has long since lost hope of a good life, and give him five thousand dollars.The money would stun the poor man like a bolt from the blue, and he might be happy for the first time in his life.Anna Akimovna found this idea to be quite novel and interesting, and it fascinated her.She randomly picked out a letter from the stack and read it.A civil servant of the twelfth rank, surnamed Tchalikov, had long been out of work and was ill, living in the house of the Guxing family. His wife had consumption and he had five very young daughters.Anna Akimovna was well acquainted with the four-story Guxing house in which Tchalikov lived.Ah, what an ugly, decaying, and unhealthy house it was!

"I'll just give the money to Charikov," she decided. "I'm not going to send someone to deliver it, but I'll go there myself, so as not to waste my time. That's right," she thought, putting the fifteen thousand dollars in her pocket. "I'll go and have a look, maybe I can think of something for those little girls." She was so happy that she rang the bell and ordered the car to be harnessed. It was past six o'clock in the evening when she got on the sleigh.The windows of the various factory buildings were brightly lit, so the large courtyard looked very dark.Beside the gate, in the depths of the yard, near the warehouse and workers' dormitories, electric lights were lit.

Anna Akimovna didn't like these dark and gloomy factory buildings, warehouses, and dormitories where workers lived, and looked frightened.She had visited the main factory building only once after her father's death.Those high ceilings with iron beams, those big wheels spinning fast, the conveyor belts, the levers, that screeching hiss, the clang of steel, the creak of carts, the roar of steam. , those pale or red, or black faces covered with soot, those sweaty shirts, those lights made of steel, copper, and flames, that smell of grease and coal, that sometimes hot, sometimes cold The wind left a hellish impression on her heart.It seemed to her that the wheels, the levers, the hot hissing cylinders were trying to break free from their grip and kill the workmen; and the workmen, with toiled faces, unable to hear each other, came running He ran, and bustled about the machines, as if trying to stop their ghastly activity.They pointed out something to Anna Akimovna and explained it to her respectfully.She remembered that in the forge, a piece of red-hot iron was being pulled out of the furnace, and there was an old man with a little leather strap on his head and another in blue overalls with a watch chain on his chest, with an angry face A young man, probably a foreman, picked up a hammer and hit the piece of iron, causing golden sparks to fly in all directions. After a while, there was a clatter in front of her, and a large iron plate spread out.The old man stood there straight with a smile on his face, while the young man wiped his sweaty face with his sleeve and explained something to her.She still remembered that in another workshop, there was a one-eyed old man sawing a piece of iron, and the iron filings were scattered all over the place; Making something out of a single piece of steel, the lathe was rattling, screaming, whistling, making Anna Akimovna sick, as if something was drilling her ear.She watched, listened, understood nothing, smiled kindly, and felt embarrassed.How strange it is that you live off this enterprise, get hundreds of thousands of rubles from it, and yet you like it without knowing it!

As for the workers' dormitories, she never went there once.I heard that there is damp, there are bedbugs, and people's lives are loose and messy.The thing is strange: thousands of rubles are spent every year to clean up the dormitories, but the condition of the workers, if the anonymous letters are to be believed, is getting worse every year. ... "Things were a little more organized when my father was alive," thought Anna Akimovna, riding out of the yard in her sleigh, "because he was a workman himself and knew what to do. I don't know anything." , just do stupid things."

She was bored again, no longer happy to be out.She ceased to be amazed at the thought of the lucky man who would see fifteen hundred rubles falling into his hands as if from the sky.The million-dollar enterprise at home was gradually disintegrating and collapsed, and the workers in the dormitory lived worse than prisoners, but he was riding a sled to find Chalikov. This was really stupid and deceiving his conscience.Workers from the nearby cloth and paper mills walked in groups along the boulevard, or near the boulevard across the fields toward the lights of the city.Laughter and cheerful conversation filled the cold air.Anna Akimovna looked at the women and children, and suddenly wanted to live their simple, rough, and difficult life.She remembered vividly that long ago, when people still called her Anutka, she was a little girl, and when she was lying in the same bed with her mother, the washerwoman who lived in the next room was washing clothes, People, through the thin board walls, can hear laughter, shouting, crying of children, accordions, lathes and sewing machines humming.Her father, Akim Ivanitch, who knew almost all trades, did not mind the crowd and noise at all, but was busy welding something, or drawing a sketch, or planing something by the fire.She wished she could do the laundry, the ironing, the shopping and the liquor store, as she had done every day when she lived with her mother.She should be a worker, not a boss!Her big house with chandeliers and pictures, her footman Mishenka in a tailcoat with a mustache as soft as velvet, the dignified Varvarushka, the ingratiating Agga. Vyushka, those young men and women who came to ask her for money almost every day and who for some reason always made her feel ashamed, and the civil servants, doctors, who used her money for charitable works, flattered her to her face, and secretly rejected her. To despise her wives because of her low birth--how dull, how out of place all this seemed to her!

Meanwhile the sled passed the railroad crossing and the city gate.Then came the houses and the vegetable gardens in turn, and at last the sleigh came to a broad street where the famous Goushin's house stood.Usually this street is quiet, but now it is the eve of the festival, so it is very lively.The small restaurants and taverns were full of voices.If a person who lived not in the district but in the city center drove by this street at this time, all he would see were dirty people, drunk people, and cursing people, but Anna A Kimovna had lived in this neighbourhood, and now she was constantly recognizing her dead father, her mother, and her uncle in the crowd.Her father was a mild-mannered, easy-going man, somewhat fanciful, carefree, unconcerned, who loved neither money nor honor nor power.He used to say that workers had no time to think about holidays and going to church.If it weren't for his wife, he probably would never fast, and would still eat meat during the fasting period.But her uncle Ivan Ivanitch, on the contrary, was obstinate, rigid and merciless in all matters of religion, politics, and morals, and urged not only himself, but all his staff and acquaintances.Go into his room without crossing yourself, that's absolutely out of the question!The magnificent house where Anna Akimovna now lives is always locked and locked, except on big festivals when important guests come, and he himself lives in the tent. It occupies a small room filled with icons.He was keen on the old sect and often entertained the bishops and priests of the old sect in his home. In fact, he was baptized, married and buried his wife according to the orthodox ceremony.His younger brother, Akim, was his only heir, but he didn't like him because he was careless, which he called simple-minded and foolish.He also thought his brother was too indifferent to religion.He mistreated the younger brother, treated him like a laborer, and paid him sixteen rubles a month.Akimu respectfully addressed his elder brother as "you", and brought the whole family to kneel in front of him on festivals to ask for forgiveness.But Ivan Ivanitch, three years before his death, befriended his brother, forgave him, and ordered Anutka to be sent for a governess.

The doorway of Guxing's house was dark, deep and smelly, and a man's cough could be heard against the wall.Anna Akimovna got off the sleigh in the street, went into the yard, and asked how to get to the house of the civil servant Tchalikov at No. 46. She was then directed to the farthest door on the right, and from there ascended three floors.In the yard, by the farthest door, and even on the stairs, there was a smell as bad as in the doorway.In Anna Akimovna's childhood, her father was just an ordinary worker, and she lived in such a house. Later, the environment changed, and she often came and went as a philanthropist.Narrow and dirty stone stairs, high steps, landings that separate each floor, oily hanging lamps hanging on the corridor, the smell in the air, laundry placed by the door at the entrance of the stairs Pots, earthen pots, old clothes—all these were already very familiar to her. . . . A door was open, and inside it some Jewish tailors in bonnets could be seen sitting at tables sewing.Anna Akimovna met many people on the stairs, but it never occurred to her that they might offend her.She was not afraid of workers or peasants, drunk or not, any more than she was afraid of her educated acquaintances. There is no front hall in Residence No. 46, and the kitchen is just inside the door.The dwellings of factory workers and artisans routinely smell of paint, tar, leather, soot, and the like, depending on the trade of the master.The residences of down-and-out aristocrats and civil servants can be distinguished by a sour and foul smell.At this very moment, Anna Akimovna had hardly stepped over the threshold when this unpleasant smell came over her. At a table in the corner, with his back to the door, sat a man in a black jacket, probably Tchalikov himself.There are five girls beside him.The oldest was a thin, broad-faced girl with a comb in her hair, about fifteen.The youngest is a little fat man with hair like a hedgehog, no more than three years old.These six people are eating.Beside the stove stood a small, thin, yellow-faced woman in a skirt and white blouse, holding a stove-fork in her hand.She is pregnant. "I didn't expect you to be so disobedient, Lizotchka," said the man reproachfully. "Well, well, I'm not ashamed! Looks like you want Daddy to beat you up, don't you?" Seeing an unknown woman appearing at the door, the thin woman shuddered and put down the stove fork. "Vassily Nikititch!" she cried after a moment in a low voice, as if she could not believe her eyes. The man looked back and jumped up from the chair.It was a bony, narrow-shouldered man with sunken temples and a flat chest.His eyes were small and deep, with dark circles around them, and his nose was long, like a bird's beak, slightly tilted to the right, and his mouth was very large.His beard was parted in two, and his mustache was shaved off, so that he looked less like a civil servant than a livery valet. "Does Mr. Tchalikov live here?" asked Anna Akimovna. "Yes, madam," replied Tchalikov sternly, but at once recognizing her as Anna Akimovna, he exclaimed: "Miss Glagoreva! Anna Akimovna!" Suddenly he couldn't breathe, and clapped his hands together, as if terrified. "Benefactor!" He groaned and ran towards her, whimpering like a paralytic.With cabbage sticking to his beard and the smell of alcohol in his mouth, he pressed his forehead to her muff as if unconscious. "Stretch out your hand! Your holy hand!" he gasped. "A dream! A sweet dream! Children, wake me up!" He turned back to face the table, shook his fist, and said in a crying voice: "God has heard us! Our savior, our angel, has come! We are saved!Get down on your knees, children!kneel down! " Madame Charikova and the girls, all but the youngest, for some reason, hastened to clear the table. "You write that your wife is very ill," said Anna Akimovna, ashamed and weary. "I won't give him fifteen thousand dollars," she thought to herself. "This is her, my wife!" Tchalikov said in a thin, feminine voice, as if tears were welling up in his head. "There she is, wretched woman! One foot is in the coffin! But we, madam, don't complain. It would be better to be dead than alive. Die, wretched woman!" "Why does he have to put on airs?" Anna Akimovna thought angrily. "It's obvious at a glance that he's used to dealing with merchants." "Please talk to me like a normal person," she said. "I don't like burlesque." "Yes, madam. Five lonely children guarding their mother's coffin by candlelight at a funeral. What a farce! Oh!" said Tchalikov sadly, turning away. "Stop it!" whispered his wife, tugging at his sleeve. "We haven't cleaned up here, miss," she said to Anna Akimovna, "forgive me. ... You understand that the family is crowded and crowded, but the family lives in harmony. " "I won't give him fifteen thousand," thought Anna Akimovna again. In order to get away from these people and the sour smell quickly, she had already taken out her wallet, and decided to take out twenty-five rubles and not give any more, but she thought that she had traveled so far for this little money, I suddenly felt ashamed to disturb these people. "If you'll give me paper and ink, I'll write right away to a doctor I know very well, asking him to come and see you," she said, blushing. "The doctor is very good. I will leave you some money for the medical bills." Mrs. Charikova hurried over to wipe the table. "It's not clean here! What's the matter with you?" Tchalikov whispered, looking at her angrily. "Lead her to the tenant's room! Please, madam, I dare you to come to our tenant's room!" he said to Anna Akimovna. "It's clean over there." "Osip Ilyich won't allow anyone to come into his room!" snapped one of the girls. But they had already led Anna Akimovna from the kitchen through the narrow passage room between the two beds.From the layout of the beds, it can be seen that there are two people sleeping upright on one bed, and three people sleeping sideways on the other bed.The room in front where the tenant lived was indeed clean.There was a neat bed with a red blanket and white covers over the pillows, and there was even a watch case on the bed.A sackcloth tablecloth was spread on the table, and on it were a milky-white inkwell, a pen, some paper, and a few framed photographs, arranged in perfect harmony.On the other work table were neatly placed tools for repairing watches and some disassembled pocket watches.On the wall are small hammers, pliers, small drills, chisels, tweezers, etc., and three wall clocks are hung, ticking.There is a big wall clock with a thick pendulum, such clocks are often hung in small restaurants. As Anna Akimovna began to write the letter, she saw on the table before her a photograph of her father and a photograph of herself.This surprised her secretly. "Who lives here with you?" she asked. "Tenant Pimenov, miss. He works at your factory." "Really? I thought he was a watchmaker." "He fixes clocks after hours. He likes it, miss." There was a silence for a while, the only sounds being the ticking of the clock and the rustling of the pen on the paper, then Tchalikov sighed and said mockingly with resentment: "They are telling the truth: Nobility and civil service alone do not make a fur coat. There is a cockade on the hat, and no lack of titles of nobility, but there is no food. In my opinion, if a person of low birth is willing to help the poor, he is Much nobler than a Charikov impoverished and infected with vice." In order to please Anna Akimovna, he said a few more words that ruined his noble status.Things were clear: he held himself down because he thought he was taller than her.By this time she had finished writing the letter and sealed it.She knew that the letter would be thrown away, and the money would not be spent on medicine, but she still put twenty-five rubles on the table, and after thinking about it, added two red notes ②.Madame Charikova's thin yellow hand, like a chicken's foot, flashed before her eyes and grabbed the money. "Thanks to your kindness for these medical bills," Tchalikov said in a trembling voice, "but please help me too...and my children," he added, sobbing "These unfortunate children! I am not afraid of myself, but of my daughters! I am afraid of lecherous hydras!" Anna Akimovna tried to open the wallet, but the switch was broken, and she blushed in confusion.She was ashamed because people were standing in front of her, looking at her hands, waiting, probably laughing at her from the bottom of their hearts.At this time, someone walked into the kitchen, stamped his feet, and shook the snow off his shoes. "The lodger is here," said Mrs Charikova. Anna Akimovna became more alarmed.She did not want anyone in the factory to see her in this ridiculous situation; but the lodger entered the room as if on purpose, and just at that moment she finally turned the switch and handed Cha Rykov asked for a few bills, and Tchalikov whined like a paralyzed patient, pursing his lips and looking for a place to kiss her.She recognized the lodger as the workman who had previously rattled a plate in her presence in the forge and explained it to her.At this moment, he clearly came directly from the factory, his face was blackened by the smoke, and on half of his face, near the nose, there was black smoke sticking to it.His hands were completely black, and his beltless overalls were shiny with oil.He was a man of about thirty, of medium build, with black hair, broad shoulders, and obviously very strong.Anna Akimovna saw at first sight that he was a foreman who paid no less than thirty-five rubles a month, was very strict, yelled, and often slapped the workers' ears. It was noticeable in the way he suddenly and unconsciously moved when he saw a woman in his room, especially because his trouser legs were not tucked into his boots, he had pockets sewn on his breast, and he had a nicely cropped pointed beard.Her dead father, Akim Ivanitch, though he was the factory owner's brother, was afraid of foremen like tenants and always flattered them. "I'm sorry you're not here, we came here without permission," said Anna Akimovna. The worker looked at her in surprise, smiled embarrassedly, and said nothing. "Speak up, miss, . . . " said Tchalikov softly. "Mr. Pimenov comes home from the factory every evening always deaf." But Anna Akimovna, feeling secretly glad at the thought that there was nothing else to do here, nodded her head and hurried out.Pimenov came out to see her off. "Have you worked with us long?" she asked aloud, without turning her head to look at him. "From the age of nine until now. I have been working in the factory when your uncle was alive." "Well, that's quite a number of years! My uncle and my father knew all the workers, but I hardly knew any of them. I've seen you before, but I didn't know your name was Pimenov." Anna Akimovna wanted to defend herself in front of him, so she put on a gesture to let him know that the money she had just given was not serious, but just for fun. "Oh, how poor!" she sighed. "Whether it's weekdays or holidays, we're always doing good deeds, but to no avail. I think it's useless to help people like Chalikov." "Of course, there is no benefit," agreed Pimenov. "Whatever you give, he drinks it all. Now, the couple will fight each other all night," he added, laughing. "Yes, it must be admitted that our philanthropy is useless and ridiculous. But then, you will agree, you can't sit with your hands in your hands, you have to do something. For example, it should be Charico What about the husband and wife?" She turned back to Pimenov, stopped, and waited for his answer.He also stopped, shrugged his shoulders slowly, and did not speak.He clearly knew what to do with the Charikovs, but the method was so brutal and inhuman that he didn't even dare to say it.To him the Tchalikovs were so dull, so humble, that after a while he forgot about them.He looked into Anna Akimovna's eyes, smiled cheerfully, and from his expression it seemed that he was dreaming a sweet dream.Only now, standing beside him, did Anna Akimovna see from his face, and especially from his eyes, how tired and sleepy he was. "Yes, the fifteen thousand should be given to him!" she thought to herself, but for some reason she felt that the idea was inappropriate and would insult Pimenov. "You're probably sore from work, but you sent me out," she said, going down the stairs. "You go home." But he didn't hear clearly.When he reached the street, he ran forward, lifted the blanket from the sleigh, helped Anna Akimovna into the sleigh, and said: "I wish you all the best for the holidays!" "Notes" ①Anna's nickname. ② ten ruble banknotes. ③The nine-headed giant snake in Greek mythology, if one of the nine heads is cut off, it will regenerate.