Chapter 9 The third part 1-5 (1-3 missing)

part three Four I stayed in Vasilyevskoye for half a month after the funeral.That life had just ended, miraculously and horribly, and I've seen it all, and the feelings are still vivid and conflicting. In those days, what I felt more painful was that I had to go through another test—saying goodbye to An Qing who was about to go home.But I can also find a certain sad solace in this ordeal. Father and Pyotr Petrovich decided to stay in Vasilyevskoye for a while longer for my cousin, and I stayed too—and not only because of Anqing.Although my love for her grew day by day, for some reason I always wanted to put off that ambivalent feeling.These feelings seized me and prevented me from leaving Faust.I found this book by chance in Pisarev's pile of books.I'm totally hooked on this:

In the heyday of the career, life is like waves, I can't see it, but it seems to be everywhere. I am both the joy and the sorrow of the sea of ​​life, It is also its birth and death. Waves of life! On the tumultuous loom of the universe, I have spent my life spinning without rest, Whether human insects or elites, I give him a garment of God's life... ① ————— ① See Goethe's "Faust", the first part.This is translated from Russian. Life in Vasilyevskoye was also contradictory.Although it is still full of sadness, in this beauty of flowers and spring, it will soon return to normal.It makes a particularly pleasant impression because of all the changes that have taken place and are taking place.It was felt that it was time to rebuild life with new, even redoubled, strength.Now the whole house has been cleaned up, many places have changed, some redundant old furniture has been moved to the attic, some things have been relocated to the room, and a new bedroom has been arranged for my cousin near the children's room. The living room used by the couple at the back of the small living room was changed into a spacious living room with a couch... and then almost all the items used by the deceased were stored away. I once saw that near the steps behind the house, someone used The brush cleans the dead man's used clothes, and puts his aristocratic uniform, cap with a red collar, and fluffy cocked hat together in a large old wooden box... The economy also begins to establish a new system.Now my father and Peter Petrovich are in charge.As is often the case between masters and servants at the beginning, all the servants obeyed them wholeheartedly, and it was hoped that the new order would bring about a new situation in which everything would be done earnestly and fruitfully.As I recall, it moved me very much.What is even more touching is that my cousin has gradually returned to normal.She regained consciousness a little, and began to be calm, as usual, and sometimes smiled at the silly and cute questions the children asked at mealtimes.Pyotr Petrovich and his father, although they didn't talk much, were always considerate to her...

I feel that these sad and happy days have passed in a flash.After breaking up with Anqing every night, I feel sweet and sad about this endless farewell.As soon as I got home, I immediately went into my study and fell asleep with my head covered, dreaming of our meeting tomorrow.In the morning, I sat in the sunny garden with a book, impatiently waiting for that moment, hoping to lead An Qing to the river to wander around again.At this time, Wigand's younger daughters are usually with us, but they always run ahead and do not hinder us... I went home at noon for dinner, and after lunch I replayed "Faust" again. Read it again, and wait for the meeting at night... Every evening, a round of bright lights appears under the garden, and the nightingale begins to sing, mysterious and melodious.An Qing sat on my lap and hugged me.I heard her heart beating, and for the first time in my life I felt the pleasant weight of a woman's body...

She is gone at last.I have never cried so madly as I did that day.However, I cry with great tenderness, love and misery for the whole world, for life, for the beauty of human body and spirit!At night, when I was crying out of my mind and slowly calmed down, I went to the river for a walk again for some reason.Suddenly, the carriage that was taking Anqing to the station came to my side on the way back. The driver stopped the carriage and handed me an issue of the Petersburg magazine to which I had sent my first poem a month ago.As I walked and flipped, my charming name broke into my eyes like lightning...

Early the next morning, I hiked back to Baturino.I first took a dry, leveled dirt road, which meanders between cultivated fields, and the cultivated fields on both sides are faintly shadowed in the morning mist.Later I walked along Pisarev's forest, where the sun was shining, the forest was lush, the birds were singing, the flowers were singing, the smell was full of old rotten leaves and the fragrance of the first lily of the valley... When I returned to Baturino, my mother Seeing my thin face and absent-minded eyes, I couldn't help being surprised, and clapped my hands every move.I kissed her, handed her the magazine, and went back to my room.I'm tired, I'm staggering, I don't recognize my familiar home anymore, it's become small and dilapidated, it surprises me...

Fives That spring, I was only sixteen years old.But when I returned to Baturino, I was fully convinced that I had entered adult life and had the same rights as everyone else. Even in winter I felt as if I already knew many things that any adult must know: the structure of the universe, the savages of the Ice Age and the Stone Age, the lives of ancient peoples, the barbarian invasion of Rome, Kievan Rus, the discovery of the New World of America , the French Revolution, Byronism, Romanticism, and the characters of the forties: Zhelyapov, Pobedonostsev, not to mention the many people I will never forget and the lives of some of the protagonists of my novels. up.Their affection and fate always thrills me.All these characters seem to be known to every adult, such as Hamlet③, Don Carlos④, Childe Harold⑤, Onegin⑥Bijorin⑦, Luoting⑧, Bazarov⑨ These characters... I think my life experience at this time is very rich.I came back extremely exhausted, but still ready to start living a fully "full" life in the future.How should such a life be lived?I feel that I have a right, and even a certain privilege, to experience a great deal of sublime, poetic verdant joy in all the impressions of life and in my beloved careers. "We entered the world with good expectations..." I also entered the world with good wishes... But what is my basis?

————— ①Anne I. Zhelyapov (1851-1881), a famous Russian revolutionary, a populist, and a member of the executive committee of the Narodnaya Volya party. ②Kang P. Pobedonostsev (1827-1907), Russian reactionary state affairs activist, Prosecutor General of the Council of Religious Affairs. ③The protagonist in Shakespeare's play "Hamlet". ④ British poet Thomas Otway's tragedy "Don Carlos Na's hero. ⑤ British poet Byron's "Child? Harold's Travels" in the protagonist. ⑥ The protagonist in the Russian poet Pushkin's "Evgeny Onegin".

⑦ The protagonist in the Russian poet Lermontov's "Contemporary Heroes". ⑧The protagonist in the novel "Roting" by Russian writer Turgenev. ⑨A character in a novel by Russian writer Turgenev. At that time, I felt that "everything has a future", full of youthful vitality, extremely strong in body and spirit, handsome in appearance, well-proportioned in physique, graceful in manner, light in step, quick in action, courageous and witty, look at my horse riding One can imagine the demeanor!I was then aware of the purity of my boyhood, the noble motives, the integrity, the contempt for all baseness.I have acquired a high spiritual state, either by nature or by reading the verses of many poets.These poets kept telling me about the poet's lofty mission, saying that "poetry is the divine god of fantasy on earth," and that "art is the ladder to the best of the world."Even in the painful hours of erotic urges, I have a spirit-lifting pleasure.I can repeat at this moment something quite the opposite—recite the satirical lines of Lermontov or Heine, or the complaints of Faust, who is also at this moment hopeless and dying. His eyes were fixed on the bright moon outside the Gothic window.Or, I could repeat Mephistopheles' gay, shameless maxims over and over again...but, don't I realize, to fly.Wings are not plump enough, they still need air and development to grow?

————— ① Characters in Goethe's "Faust". I can't help experiencing those completely special feelings, because this is what every young man who starts writing will definitely experience when his name is published in the newspapers. I can't help but know that a flower blooming alone is not spring.When my father was angry, he always called me "the hairy boy of the nobles". However, I am a little comforted that I am not the only one who learns "superficially without seeking deep understanding".Of course, I knew very well in my heart that this kind of masturbation was very unreliable.Although I have been deeply influenced by many free thoughts from reading and interacting with Georgi's brother, I am still proud that we are the Arsenyev family.However, I couldn't help but know that at that time we were getting poorer and poorer.And our indifference to this poverty puts us in an embarrassing position.I have grown up and am convinced that under the good influence of my two brothers, especially Georgy, I will eventually be the main heir of all good things.My father has too many shortcomings, and in my opinion he is very different from the people I am familiar with.But my father is no longer what he used to be. Now he doesn't care about anything, and often pours out his sorrows and gets drunk.Witness this often angry face.How should I feel about that unshaven gray chin, that disheveled head, those worn sandals and that tattered Sevastopol jacket?When I think of my mother who is getting older and Olia who is growing up, what kind of pain does I feel in my heart?I often feel sorry for myself too, especially after eating only a plate of cold giblet soup, I go back to my room to read my books and my only possession-an ancestral log made of birch. A box containing one of my treasures.A few pages of gray paper filled with "Elegy Poems" and "Tanks", bought in our country shop, smelling of peppermint smoke...

I sometimes think of my father's youth, how far it is from my youth!He had almost everything that a fortunate young man should have in those days, honors and enjoyments.He lived a carefree life, and it was quite natural that, according to the more refined lordship of the time, he should enjoy a life of luxury and peace of mind.He never knew anything that would prevent him from fulfilling all the strange desires of youth, and took pleasure in exercising power and domineering everywhere just because he was an Arsenyev.But all I have is a birch box, an old double-barreled gun, a scrawny horse named Kabalkin, and a worn Cossack saddle... How I sometimes want to dress up!But when I was going to be a guest, I had to put on the dingy jacket of Georgi's brother, who once walked into the prison in Kharkov.I wore it when I was a guest, and I felt very ashamed and uncomfortable.I have no sense of property, but sometimes I fantasize about wealth, about luxury, about all freedom and all the joys of body and mind that go with it!I fantasize about long-distance travel, fantasizing about beautiful women, fantasizing about making friends with some amazing teenagers, peers, and some enthusiastic like-minded people... However, my feet have never stepped outside our county town, and the whole world tells me I was only used to fields and slopes, I only saw farmers and peasant women, our social circle was only two or three small landowners' estates and Vasilyevskoye, and the places I fantasized about all day long were no more than It was my old corner room, with its rotting window frames, and the two stained-glass windows looking out on the garden, did I not realize it?