Chapter 2 "My Life - A Mainlander's Story" II

two Among the lovers of charitable amateur plays, concerts, and live painting performances in this city, the Aruojing family can be said to be second to none.They lived in a private house in the Rue Grande Noble, always set aside the house for performances, and took care of all chores and expenses.This wealthy landowner family owned nearly three thousand dessiatines and a luxurious estate in the county, but they did not like the country, and lived in the city winter and summer.The family consisted of a mother, a tall, thin, frail mother with short hair, a short blouse and a flat English skirt, and three daughters; When talking about them, they are not called by their names, but simply called the eldest girl, the second girl, and the little girl.The three daughters, all with ugly pointed chins, short-sighted, a little stooped, dressed like their mothers, and slurring their speech very badly; in spite of this, they went to every performance, and often contributed to charity. Make some effort, such as acting, reciting, singing, etc.They were all very serious, never laughed, and even when they were acting in a light comedy with singing, they didn't even look happy in the slightest, but put on a serious face, like accountants.

I love our shows, especially the recurring, somewhat messy, boisterous rehearsals where they keep us for dinner after each rehearsal.I don't give a damn when it comes to choosing scripts and assigning roles.I'm in charge of the background stuff.I paint sets, give lines, make up.I was also in charge of sound effects like thunder, nightingales, etc.Since I have no social status and no decent clothes, every rehearsal, I would hide aside, standing in the shadow of the side set, timidly silent. I paint the scenery in the storage room or in the yard of Aruojing's house.The man who helped me was a painter, or, as he called it, a contractor for the job.His name was Andrei Ivanov, he was about fifty years old, he was tall, thin, pale, with sunken chest, sunken temples, dark circles under his eyes, and he looked even a little scary. .He was suffering from a tormenting disease. Every autumn and spring everyone said that he was about to die, but when he got up from bed for a while, he always said in amazement afterwards: "I'm not dead again!"

People in the city called him Lijika (radish), saying that this was his real surname.He also loves theater as much as I do. As long as he hears that we are preparing for a performance, he will leave all his work and come to A Ruojing's house to paint the scenery. On the second day of my conversation with my sister, I worked at Aruojing's house from morning till night.The rehearsal was scheduled to be held at seven o'clock in the evening. An hour before the rehearsal began, all the amateur theater lovers had gathered in the hall. The eldest girl, the second girl, and the younger girl were walking around on the stage with The book reads the lines.Radish stood there, wearing a long faded coat and a scarf around his neck, with his temples leaning against the wall, looking at the stage with a devout expression.The mother of the Aruojing family sometimes walked up to this guest and sometimes to that guest, saying a few nice words to each of them.She had a habit of staring into people's faces and speaking in a low voice, as if she were talking about something secret.

"It must be difficult to paint the scenery," she said in a low voice as she walked up to me. "I saw you come in when I was talking to Frau Muffka just now about superstition. My God, I've been fighting superstition all my life! I'm always pointing to convince the maids how unreasonable their fears are." Three candles, but on the thirteenth day of every month, I do all my important things." There came the engineer Torschikov's daughter, a beautiful, buxom fair-haired girl.Her attire was, as we say here, Parisian from head to toe.She doesn't act, but in rehearsals people always put a chair on the stage for her until she's all dressed up and shining, sitting in the front row and wowing everybody. Row.She is from the capital, so she can give opinions during the rehearsal.She gave her advice with a lovely, forgiving smile, and you could see that she regarded our performance as a child's play.It is said that she studied singing at the Petersburg Conservatory, and even seemed to sing in a private opera troupe all winter.I like her very much, and as a rule I can't take my eyes off her during rehearsals and performances.

I had already picked up my notebook to start my lines, but my sister came.Without taking off her coat and hat, she came straight up to me and said, "I beg you, let's go together." I just follow her.At the backstage door stood Anyuta Bragovo.She also wears a hat with a black veil.She was the daughter of the Vice-President of the Court, who had been in our town for a long time, almost as soon as the District Court was established.His daughter was so tall and well-proportioned that everyone thought she was obliged to take part in live-paintings, and she blushed with shame whenever she played a Fear or a god; He only stays for a while when he comes up, always to discuss something, and he refuses to come into the hall.Even now it could be seen that she was going to leave after a while.

"My father told you," she said coldly, without looking at me, but blushing. "Torshikov promised you a job on the railway. Please go to him tomorrow, he's at home." I bow and thank her for running for me. "You can return this to them," she said, pointing to my notebook. She and my sister went up to Arodina and talked to her in a low voice for about two minutes, looking at me.What are they discussing. "Really," Arokina came up to me, stared at my face, and whispered, "Really' if this makes you give up your business," she took the book from my hand, "then You can give it to someone else. Don't worry, my friend, you go."

I said goodbye to her and walked away embarrassingly.I went downstairs and saw my sister and Anyuta Bragovo going out.They were chatting enthusiastically about something, probably about my going to work on the railway, and they walked in a hurry.Her sister had never been to the rehearsal before, and now her conscience was probably tormenting her. She was afraid that her father would know that she had come to A Ruojing's house without his permission. At around twelve o'clock the next day I went to Torshikov's.The footman led me into a beautiful room, which was the engineer's drawing room and his studio.

Everything here is soft, delicate, and even weird to someone like me who isn't used to seeing things like that.There were costly rugs, large armchairs, bronzes, pictures, gilt and plush-trimmed picture frames; scattered on the walls were photographs of beautiful women, with intelligent, charming faces, and good manners.The drawing-room door opened directly into the garden, and from the balcony one could see lilacs, a table set for breakfast, many bottles of wine, and a bouquet of roses. There was a smell of spring in the air, of expensive cigars, of happiness in general, and everything seemed to try to show that here lived a man who had worked so hard and had at last achieved all the happiness that can be had on earth.At the desk sat the engineer's daughter, reading a newspaper.

"Are you looking for my father?" she asked. "He's taking a bath and will be here in a minute. Please sit down." I sit down. "You seem to live right across from us?" She asked again after a moment of silence. "yes." "Because I'm bored, I always look out of the window every day. It's very presumptuous," she went on, looking at the newspaper. "I often see you and your sister. She always looks so kind and dignified." Torshikov came in.He wiped his neck with a towel. "Daddy, Mr. Poloznev is here," said the daughter.

"Yes, yes, Bragovo told me," he said, turning quickly to me, without extending his hand to shake mine. "But listen, what can I do for you? What kind of positions do I have here? You are queer people, sir!" he went on, loudly, as if reprimanding me. of. "Twenty people like you come to me every day, thinking that I have an institution here! Sir, I only have railway lines here, I only have hard work here, I need mechanics, fitters, earth diggers, Carpenters, well diggers, but you can only sit and write, and nothing else! You are all pens!" From him, as from his rugs and armchairs, came a breath of happiness, blowing towards me.He was fat and strong, with rosy cheeks, a broad chest, cleanly washed, in a calico shirt and fat trousers, like a child's china coachman.He had a curly beard and not a single gray hair.He had a hooked nose and dark, shining, frankly dark eyes.

"What will you do?" he went on. "You can't do anything! Yes, I'm an engineer and I'm well off, but I worked a long time at hard work before I was asked to build railways. I worked as a locomotive driver and for two years in Belgium as an ordinary oiler. Worker. Think for yourself, young man, what should I do for you?" "Of course, you're right..." I faltered, terrified by his bright, candid eyes. "At least you know how to run the telegraph?" he asked after a moment of thought. "Yes, I worked in the telegraph office." "Hey. . . Well, let's try. Go to Dubechnya. I already have someone there, but he's a complete piece of shit." "Then what is my job?" I asked. "Go there and see. You go there for a while, and I'll give them an order. Just don't drink too much, and don't bother me with requests. Or I'll quit you." He turned and walked away without even giving me a nod.I bowed to him and his newspaper-reading daughter and went away.My heart was so heavy that when my sister asked me how the engineer received me, I couldn't even say a word. In order to go to Dubechnya I got up early in the morning, just as the sun was rising. There was not even a soul in our Grand Noble Street, everyone was still asleep, and my footsteps sounded alone and muffled.Dewy aspens filled the air with a soft fragrance.I was sad and didn't want to leave the city.I love my city. I find it so beautiful and so warm.I love the verdure of the trees, the clear and still morning, the ringing of our church bells; but I find the people who live with me in this town dull, out of place, and sometimes hateful. I don't like them and don't understand them. I don't understand why all these 65,000 people are alive, what they're living on.I know that people in Kimre make a living making boots, that people in Tula make samovars and guns, that Odessa is a port, but what our city is and what it makes, I don't know .The Rue des Nobles and two other clean streets are inhabited either by ready funds or by official salaries from the treasury, and there are eight parallel streets, about three versts long. , the end of the street stretches to the back of Gaogang. How do the people living on these eight streets live? This will always be a mystery to me.As for how these people lived, it was embarrassing to tell!No parks, no theaters, no decent bands.The municipal library and the club library were only used by Jewish teenagers, so the magazines and new books were there, and no one cut the pages for months.The rich and the educated sleep in cramped, stuffy dormitories on wooden beds infested with bedbugs.The children lived in a disgustingly dirty room, which was nicknamed a "children's room."As for the servants, even the old ones, they slept on the kitchen floor under ragged quilts.On normal days the house smelled of beetroot soup, and on fast days it smelled of sturgeon fried in sunflower seeds.They eat tasteless vegetables and drink unhygienic water.For many years, in the council, in the governor's house, in the bishop's house, in various houses, it has been said that we do not have cheap, clean water in our town, and that we must borrow two hundred thousand rubles from the state treasury to install running water. .There are no less than thirty very rich millionaires in our city. Sometimes, they lose a whole manor in a game of cards. They also drink this kind of dirty water; but they talk about loans enthusiastically all their lives. I don't understand, I think it would be easier for them to just take the two hundred thousand rubles out of their own pockets. I have not seen a single honest man in all the city.My father took bribes, thinking that they were dedicated to him out of respect for his character.The middle school students went to the teacher's house for board and lodging in order to upgrade, and the teacher took the opportunity to accept a large sum of money from them.The wives of military governors accepted bribes from the recruits during the recruiting period, and even allowed the recruits to invite her to eat and drink.Once she knelt down in church and couldn't get up because she was drunk.Even physicians accept bribes during recruiting.Physicians and veterinarians of the town demand money from butchers and taverns.County schools sell third class discount certificates.The overseer solicits bribes from the priests and deans below.In municipal institutions, in civil institutions, in medical institutions, in all other institutions, every applicant is about to leave after finishing his work, and someone will shout at his back: "It is necessary to express gratitude. !” The applicant had to come back and give them thirty or forty kopecks. Those who do not accept bribes, such as officials in the judiciary, are always arrogant and rude, only extend two fingers when shaking hands, are very cruel, extremely narrow-minded, love playing cards, drink a lot of wine, marry rich Women of money undoubtedly exert a pernicious and corrupting influence on those around them.Only the girls exude moral purity, most of them have noble ideals, upright and pure souls; but they don't understand life, and believe that bribery is out of respect for that person's character, and after marriage Soon he was old, depraved, and irremediably mired in the quagmire of vulgar philistine life. "Notes" ① Refers to the static picture played by a living person. ② 1 Russian mu is equal to 1.09 hectares. ③ Fairies in Western European mythology. ④ 1 verst is equal to 1.08 kilometers.