Chapter 17 Confessions, or Olya, Reniya, Zoya

Confessions, or Olya, Reniya, Zoya Chekhov a letter You, ma chere, my dear and unforgettable friend, asked me in passing in your lovely letter why I am not yet married, although I am already thirty-nine years old. My dear!I love family life with all my heart, and I am unmarried only because the villain of fate does not want me to.I've tried about fifteen times before to get married, but it didn't work out, because everything in this world, especially my life, is governed by chance, everything by chance!Chance is the tyrant. Let me now give a few examples to illustrate why I still live this despicable bachelor life. ...

①French: My dear. first example It was a sunny morning in June.The sky was cloudless, the purest Prussian blue.The sun shone on the river, gliding over the dewy grass.Precious diamonds seemed to be strewn across the river and the green meadows.The birds seem to be singing according to the music score. ... We walked on the tree-lined road covered with yellow sand, puffed up our happy chests, and breathed in the fragrance of the morning in June.The trees looked at us so kindly and murmured, probably pouring out some beautiful and gentle words to us. ... Olya Gruzdovskaya (now married to the son of the police chief of your district) put her hand on mine, her tiny little finger resting on my thigh. Trembling in the fingers. ... her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes ... ah,

ma chere, those are really a pair of wonderful eyes!How much charm, sincerity, purity, joy, innocence, shone in those pale blue eyes!I admire her flaxen braids, the tiny footprints her tiny feet leave in the sand. ... "I dedicate my life, Olga Maksimovna, to science," I whispered, afraid that her little finger would slip off my big one. "Ahead awaiting me is the professor's dais. . . . My conscience is overwhelmed with questions, . . . scientific questions. . . . It is a life of toil, full of cares and nobility . . . How shall I put it?" ... Well, in a word, I'm going to be a professor. ... I'm honest, Olga Maksimovna. ... I'm not rich, but ... I need a life partner, and I have her I'll be there..." Olga Maksimovna looked down in embarrassment, her little finger trembled, "with her there I'll be... Olya! Just look at the sky! It's so clean ,...but my life is so pure, so vast..." My tongue hadn't had time to crawl out of this pile of nonsense when suddenly Olya raised her head and withdrew her tongue from my hand. Hands go, clap hands.It turned out that some big geese and little geese came to face each other.Olya ran up to the geese, laughed loudly, and stretched out her little hand to them. ... Ah, what kind of small hands are those, ma chere!

"Ga... ga... ga..." the geese opened their mouths, stretched their necks, and squinted at Olya. "Goose, goose, goose!" cried Olya, holding out her hand to a gosling. That little goose, despite his young age, is very smart.It avoided Olya's hand, went to find its father, a big and stupid gander, and apparently complained to his father.The gander spreads its wings.The naughty Olya reached out to another gosling.Then a terrible thing happened.The gander lowered its neck to the ground, hissed like a snake, and walked up to Olya maliciously.Olya screamed, turned around and ran.The gander pursued her relentlessly.When Olya looked back, she screamed louder and her face turned pale.She was frightened and anxious, and her beautiful, girlish little face changed.It looked as if three hundred devils were chasing after her.

I hurried to her side to save her, and raised my cane to hit the gander on the head.Still desperate, the nasty gander bit the hem of her dress.Olya opened her eyes wide, her face changed, her whole body trembled, and she fell into my arms. ... "You are so timid!" I said. "You shoot the gander!" she said, crying. ... On that terrified little face, the simple look was gone, the childish look was gone, and what was left was a stupid look!I can't stand being cowardly, ma chere!I can't imagine marrying a cowardly, timid woman! The gander ruined the matter. ... I comforted Olya to calm down, and walked home, that cowardly and stupid little face imprinted in my mind.

... In my mind, Olya has lost all charm.I no longer associate with her. ① A blue pigment. ②Olga is the correct name, and Olya is the nickname. second example You, my friend, of course know that I am a writer.The gods have lit the sacred fire in my breast, and I don't think I have a right not to take up my pen.I am the priest of Apollo. . . . Every beat of my heart, every sigh of mine, in short my whole being, is offered to the altar of the Muses.I kept writing, writing, writing. ...Take away the pen from my hand, and I will die. ...you laughed, you don't believe it. ...I swear: it is true!

But you, ma chere, of course know that the earth is a bad place for art.The world is vast and fertile, but the writer has no place here.The writer is the eternal orphan, the exile, the scapegoat, the helpless child. …I divide the human race into two parts: writers and envious people.The first group of people write, but the second group of people are jealous to death, and do everything possible to mess with the first group.It was because of those jealous people that I suffered, I am suffering now, and I will still suffer in the future.They ruin my life.They control the life and death power of the writer's business, call themselves editor-in-chief and publisher, and try their best to bury us.Damn them! !

You listen to me. ... For a while I courted Renya Pushkova.You, of course, remember this sweet, dark-haired, fantasy-loving child. ... and now she is married to your neighbor, Karl Ivanovich Vanza (A propos3: "Vanza" in German means ... a bug. Don't tell Zenya that, she will be angry).Genia fell in love with me because I was a writer.She believes in my mission as deeply as I do.My hope inspired her to live on.But she was young then!She did not yet understand the division mentioned above: man is divided into two parts!She does not believe in this division!She didn't believe it, so we blew on a nice day....

At that time I lived in the dacha of the Pushkova family.Everyone thinks that I am the fiancé and Reniya is the fiancée.I write, she reads.What a critic she is, ma chere. She is as impartial as Aristides, and as strict as old Cato.I always dedicate my work to her. ... Genia liked one of those works very much.Genia wanted to see it published.I'll send it to a humor magazine.I sent it on July 1st and waited two weeks for a reply.Here comes the fifteenth of July.Genia and I received the desired magazine.We quickly unpacked the wrapping paper and read the reply in the "Mailbox" column.Her face was red and white. In the "Mailbox" column there is an answer written to me: "Hilendov village. Mr. Ma Ba: You have no talent at all. God knows what you write! You don't have to waste stamps and don't come again You're bothering us. Do something else."

Oh, what absurdity. ... It's obvious at a glance that it was written by idiots. "Hmm..." Reniya snorted. "Simply...assholes!!!" I muttered. "What do you think? You, Yevgenia Markovna, will you smile now when you think of my distinction between two kinds of people?" Reniya fell into thought and yawned. "Well," she said, "perhaps you really don't have talent! They know that kind of thing better. Last year Fyodor Fedoseyevich and I were fishing all summer, and you kept writing, Write, write. . . how tedious that is! ..." Look!I've spent so many sleepless nights writing and reading with her, and she's saying things like this!So many sacrifices have been made to the Muse by both of us, and this is the result. ……what?

Genia was indifferent to my writing life and therefore to myself.We broke up.Things have to be like this. ... ① "holy fire" refers to genius. ②The god of poetry, one of the nine goddesses of literature and art in Greek mythology. ③ French: By the way. ④ Aristides (540-467 BC), an Athenian statesman and commander, known as a "just man". ——Russian text editor's note ⑤ Cato the Elder (234-149 BC), the Roman consul, guarded the customs of ancient Rome very strictly. ——Russian text editor's note third example You, my unforgettable friend, of course know that I am very fond of music.Music is my hobby, something that fascinates me... Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Mendelssohn, Gounod, these names are not the names of ordinary people, but the names of giants!I like classical.I hate burlesque as much as I hate light comedy.I am the most frequent spectator of serious opera.Khokhlov, Kochetova, Balchar, Usatov, Korsov ① are all wonderful people! How sorry I am that I don't know the singers!If I knew them, I would pour out my heart to them with gratitude.I went to the opera a lot last winter.I am not going alone, but with the Pepsinovs.It's a pity you don't know this lovely family!Every winter, the Pipsinovs always book a box in the theater.They love music with all their hearts. ... Adding luster to this lovely family is Colonel Pipsinov's daughter Zoya.She is a good girl, my dear!Her little rosy lips alone are enough to make someone like me swoon!She is slim, beautiful and smart. ……I love her. ...I love it madly, passionately, and don't know what to do! . . . I sit with her and my blood boils.You smile, ma chere.... Smile!You do not know the writer's love, which is foreign to you. ... A writer's love is Etna plus Vesuvius.Zuo Ya loves me.Her eyes were always looking into mine, and my eyes were always looking for hers. ……We are very happy. ...we are one step away from getting married. ...but we suffered. "Faust" is playing. Faust, my dear, was written by Gounod, and Gounod was the greatest musician.On my way to the theater, I decided to wait until the first act to confide my love to Zuoya, which I couldn't understand anyway. ... The great Gounod should not have written that first act! The opera begins.Zuoya and I were the only ones left in the theater lounge.She sat beside me, trembling with anticipation and happiness, playing with her fan dreamily.In the evening light, ma chere, she is so pretty, so pretty! "This prelude," I confessed my love, "has aroused my reverie, Zoya Yegorovna. . . . It stirs up so many emotions, so many. . . I long for something, I listen. ..." I hiccupped and went on: "I'm longing for something special. I'm longing for something that doesn't exist in this world.... Is it love? Is it passion? Yes, it's probably... love..." I hiccupped. "Yes, it's love..." Zuo Ya smiled slightly, feeling embarrassed, and began to shake her fan vigorously.I burp. I hate myself for hiccups! "Zoya Yegorovna! Tell me, I beg you! Are you familiar with this feeling?" I hiccupped. "Zoya Yegorovna! I'm waiting for an answer!" "I... I... don't understand what you mean..." "It's because I've had a sudden hiccup. . . . It'll pass in a minute. ...I'm talking about an all-encompassing feeling, the feeling that...Who the hell knows what's going on! " "You drink some water!" "I must confess my love before I go to the catering department," I thought to myself, and went on: "I will keep my words short. Zoya Yegorovna . . . you have noticed . . . "I hiccup.Annoyed with my hiccups, I bit my tongue. "You, of course, have noticed..." I hiccupped, "you've known me for almost a year. . . . Well. . . . I'm an honest man, Zoya Yegorovna! I'm a man of work I'm not rich, it's true, but..." I hiccup and jump up. "Drink some water!" Zuo Ya advised me. I took a few steps beside the couch, put my finger on my throat, and hiccupped again. Ma chere, my situation is terrible!Zuo Ya stood up and walked towards the box.I just follow her.I sent her to the box, hiccupped, and ran to the catering department.I drank about five glasses of water and the burps seemed to be slightly less.I finished smoking a cigarette and went to the box.Zuo Ya's younger brother stood up and gave me his seat, beside my Zuo Ya.I sat down, but immediately... hiccupped.After almost five minutes, I hiccupped again, which sounded odd, dry and hoarse.I just got up and stood by the door of the box to wish Machere. Rather than hiccupping in the ear of the woman I love, it would be better to hiccup at the door! I hiccupped.A high school student in the next box looked at me and laughed loudly. ... He is such a bad boy, laughing so hard!I wish I could pluck out the ears of this stinky wretch by the roots!Singing the great "Faust" on stage, he actually laughed!This is treason!Yes, ma chere was much better than him when we were kids.I was cursing the rude middle school student to myself when I hiccupped again. ...the people in the adjacent box all laughed. "Bis!" ④ The middle school student lowered his throat and said. "The devil knows what's going on!" Colonel Pepsinov murmured, leaning into my ear. "You may burp at home, sir!" Zuo Ya blushed.I hiccupped again, clenched my fists like crazy, and ran out of the box. I started walking up and down the aisle.I go, go, go, and I keep hiccupping.I didn't eat anything, I didn't drink anything!By the time the fourth act opened, I spat and went home.When I got home, it seemed like I was making trouble on purpose, but I stopped hiccupping. ... I tapped the back of my head and cried, "Now you hiccup! Now you can hiccup without worry, you booed fiancé! No, you're not booed! It's not booed you, it's...you Hurry up and burp!" The next day, as usual, I went to the Pepsinov's.Zuo Ya didn't come out for dinner, but ordered someone to tell me that she was ill and couldn't see me.Pipsinov went on and on about some young people who were not good at social behavior. ...the idiot!Little did he know that the hiccupping organ does not depend on volitional stimulation.Stimulation, ma chere, is the driving force. "If you have a daughter," Pipsinov said to me after dinner, "would you marry her to a man who can't stop hiccupping in society? Huh? How about it?" "I would..." I muttered. "That's not right, sir!" The matter between Zuo Ya and me was over.She couldn't forgive my hiccups.I suffer. Do you want me to write you another twenty examples? I'd like to write, but... that's enough!The blood vessels on my temples swelled, tears trickled down my cheeks, and my liver kept churning. ... Fellow writers, our fate is quite ominous! ⑤ Please allow me, ma chere, I wish you all the best!I shake your hand and greet you Polya.He, I heard, was a good husband and a good father. ... He should be praised!It's just a pity that he drinks strong alcohol. (This is not a reproach, ma chere!) I wish you health and happiness, ma chere, and please do not forget that you have a most obedient servant, Makar Baldastov. *********** ①All are Russian singers, opera singers of the Bolshoi Theater: Khokhlov sang baritone, Kochetova sang coloratura soprano, Balchar sang tenor, Usatov sang bass, Kohl Soph sang baritone. ——Russian text editor's note ②③ are famous volcanoes in Italy. ④ Latin: Come again! ⑤ A quote from the poem "In the Hospital" by the Russian poet Nekrasov. ——Russian text editor's note