Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

In the camp where Pierre went for four weeks there were twenty-three prisoners, three officers and two civilians. It seemed to Pierre afterwards that these people were shrouded in a fog, but Platon Karataev remained forever in Pierre with the strongest and most precious impression, as the personification of the good and the whole of Russia. El heart.When Pierre saw his neighbors the next morning, his first impression of Yuan was fully confirmed: Platon was wearing a French army overcoat with a rope around his waist, a cap on his head, and straw sandals on his feet. , his whole figure is round, his head is completely round, his back, chest, shoulders, and even his hands ready to hug something at any time are round; a happy smiling face, brown gentle big The eyes are also round.

Judging from Platon Karatayev, who has been in the army for a long time and has participated in many battles, he should be in his fifties.He himself could not tell for some reason how old he was, but his teeth were white and strong, and when he opened his mouth to smile, he showed two complete rows of semicircular teeth (he laughed often); , At the same time, the whole body appears flexible, exceptionally strong and full of endurance. Although his face has some fine crow's feet, it exudes an innocent and youthful expression; his voice is pleasant and melodious.But the main characteristic of his speech is directness and smoothness.He never seemed to think about what he had said or was about to say; that was why he spoke quickly and in a pure tone, which gave him a peculiar irresistible force of persuasion.

His strength and dexterity during the first few days in the prison camp acted as if he did not understand what fatigue and disease were.Every morning and evening, as he lay down, he said, "God bless, lay down like a stone, and rise up like bread." When he got up in the morning, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Lie down, curl up, get up Keep your spirits up." And it was true, as soon as he lay down, he immediately fell asleep like a rock, and as soon as he stood up straight, he immediately went to find something to do without delay, just like a child playing with toys when he gets up. Same.He can do everything, not very good, but not bad either.He could bake, cook, mend, plank, and bootsole.He always has work to do, just chats in the evenings, he loves to talk and he loves to sing.He sang not like a singer, knowing that someone was listening to him, but like a bird, as if because he had to make these sounds, as if he had to stretch or walk; Yes, almost a woman's voice, full of complaints, but at this time his facial expression was very serious.

A prisoner with a beard growing all over his face, he seemed to have thrown away all the foreign soldier's things that had been added to him, and involuntarily returned to the habits of the former peasant and common people. "Soldiers on leave—shirts hanging out of their trousers," he used to say.He spoke reluctantly of his military career, though he did not regret it, and often repeated that he had not received a single whip during his entire service.When he chatted, he mainly talked about his own old memories of the "Jesus" disciples he cherished. He should have said the memories of the life of "farmers". ②

-------- ①Russian peasants feel that the shirt is tied into the waistband of the trousers, and they are not used to it. ②The Russian pronunciation of "Christian" and "peasant" is very similar.Here it is translated as Christian. The idioms that fill his language are mostly unrefined and rough idioms, which are not used by soldiers, but the daily idioms of ordinary people. It is meaningless to extract them separately, but they are put together in words , then suddenly reveals profound wit. He often says things that contradict what he has just said, but both are true.He was talkative, he could talk, and he adorned his language with flattery and idioms, which Pierre thought he had invented; and the main charm of his conversation was that the things he said were simple, often Pierre ignored it, but once he uttered it, it was characterized by solemn elegance.He liked listening to a soldier's evening stories (the same ones always), but preferred chatter about real life.He smiled pleasantly, interjected as he listened, and asked this and that, so that he could get a feel for what was going on in the conversation.As far as Pierre knew him, Karatayev had never had such things as attachment, friendship, and love; but he also loved, and with everything in life, especially with people—not Not with a well-known person, but with the people who appeared in front of him in love and solidarity.He loved his dog, his friend in distress, the French soldier, and his neighbor Pierre; but Pierre felt that although Karataev was very affectionate to him (he did it unconsciously to show respect for Pierre) my spiritual life), but he would not for a minute regret being separated from him.Pierre began to feel the same way about Karataev.

Platon Karatayev was an ordinary soldier to all the rest of the captives, and they called him Little Eagle or Platosha, and they joked with him kindly and helped him.And for Pierre, who on the first night he had made Pierre imagine, he had remained forever in Pierre's heart as an inconceivable, complete, eternal incarnation of simplicity and truth. Platon Karataev could not recite anything but prayers.When he speaks, it seems that he only knows the beginning, but does not know how to end it. Sometimes Pierre was amazed by his conversation, and when asked to repeat it, Platon could not recall what he said a minute ago, just as he could not tell Pierre the words of his favorite song. Same.For example, the lyrics are: "My dear, little birch tree, how painful I am." But there is no meaning in the lyrics.He did not understand, and could not understand, the meaning of the individual words taken from his words.His every word and every action is the expression of a reality unknown to him, and that reality is his life.But his life, in his own eyes, as a separate thing, is meaningless.His life has meaning only as part of that whole which he constantly feels.The expression of his words and actions are smooth, necessary and direct, like the fragrance of flowers.It is impossible for him to understand the value or meaning of an action or a word taken out of itself.