Polzunkov Page #2

"Polzunkov" is a short work by Fyodor Dostoevsky, written in 1848 and often considered a novella. The story revolves around the life of the titular character, a hapless and disillusioned man named Polzunkov, who is characterized by his passive nature and constant self-pity. The narrative delves into themes of existential despair, social alienation, and the search for meaning in a chaotic world. Through Polzunkov's interactions and internal struggles, Dostoevsky examines the complexities of human psychology and the moral dilemmas faced by individuals in society. The work reflects the author's early exploration of themes that would later be prominent in his more famous novels.

• Novel

								

in my place. And, finally, the story, in consequence of which I have not
married."

"Married! A wife! Polzunkov tried to get married!!"

"I confess I should like to see Madame Polzunkov."

"Allow me to inquire the name of the would-be Madame Polzunkov," piped a
youth, making his way up to the storyteller.

"And so for the first chapter, gentlemen. It was just six years ago, in
spring, the thirty-first of March--note the date, gentlemen--on the
eve...."

"Of the first of April!" cried a young man with ringlets.

"You are extraordinarily quick at guessing. It was evening. Twilight was
gathering over the district town of N., the moon was about to float out
... everything in proper style, in fact. And so in the very late
twilight I, too, floated out of my poor lodging on the sly--after taking
leave of my restricted granny, now dead. Excuse me, gentlemen, for
making use of such a fashionable expression, which I heard for the last
time from Nikolay Nikolaitch. But my granny was indeed restricted: she
was blind, dumb, deaf, stupid--everything you please.... I confess I was
in a tremor, I was prepared for great deeds; my heart was beating like a
kitten's when some bony hand clutches it by the scruff of the neck."

"Excuse me, Monsieur Polzunkov."

"What do you want?"

"Tell it more simply; don't over-exert yourself, please!"

"All right," said Osip Mihalitch, a little taken aback. "I went into the
house of Fedosey Nikolaitch (the house that he had bought). Fedosey
Nikolaitch, as you know, is not a mere colleague, but the full-blown
head of a department. I was announced, and was at once shown into the
study. I can see it now; the room was dark, almost dark, but candles
were not brought. Behold, Fedosey Nikolaitch walks in. There he and I
were left in the darkness...."

"Whatever happened to you?" asked an officer.

"What do you suppose?" asked Polzunkov, turning promptly, with a
convulsively working face, to the young man with ringlets. "Well,
gentlemen, a strange circumstance occurred, though indeed there was
nothing strange in it: it was what is called an everyday affair--I
simply took out of my pocket a roll of paper ... and he a roll of
paper."

"Paper notes?"

"Paper notes; and we exchanged."

"I don't mind betting that there's a flavour of bribery about it,"
observed a respectably dressed, closely cropped young gentleman.

"Bribery!" Polzunkov caught him up.

          "'Oh, may I be a Liberal,
            Such as many I have seen!'

If you, too, when it is your lot to serve in the provinces, do not warm
your hands at your country's hearth.... For as an author said: 'Even the
smoke of our native land is sweet to us.' She is our Mother, gentlemen,
our Mother Russia; we are her babes, and so we suck her!"

There was a roar of laughter.

"Only would you believe it, gentlemen, I have never taken bribes?" said
Polzunkov, looking round at the whole company distrustfully.

A prolonged burst of Homeric laughter drowned Polzunkov's words in
guffaws.

"It really is so, gentlemen...."

But here he stopped, still looking round at every one with a strange
expression of face; perhaps--who knows?--at that moment the thought came
into his mind that he was more honest than many of all that honourable
company.... Anyway, the serious expression of his face did not pass away
till the general merriment was quite over.

"And so," Polzunkov began again when all was still, "though I never did
take bribes, yet that time I transgressed; I put in my pocket a bribe
... from a bribe-taker ... that is, there were certain papers in my
hands which, if I had cared to send to a certain person, it would have
gone ill with Fedosey Nikolaitch."

"So then he bought them from you?"

"He did."

"Did he give much?"

"He gave as much as many a man nowadays would sell his conscience for
complete, with all its variations ... if only he could get anything for
it. But I felt as though I were scalded when I put the money in my
pocket. I really don't understand what always comes over me,
gentlemen--but I was more dead than alive, my lips twitched and my legs
trembled; well, I was to blame, to blame, entirely to blame. I was
utterly conscience-stricken; I was ready to beg Fedosey Nikolaitch's
forgiveness."

"Well, what did he do--did he forgive you?"

"But I didn't ask his forgiveness.... I only mean that that is how I
felt. Then I have a sensitive heart, you know. I saw he was looking me
straight in the face. 'Have you no fear of God, Osip Mihailitch?' said
he. Well, what could I do? From a feeling of propriety I put my head on
one side and I flung up my hands. 'In what way,' said I, 'have I no fear
of God, Fedosey Nikolaitch?' But I just said that from a feeling of
propriety.... I was ready to sink into the earth. 'After being so long a
friend of our family, after being, I may say, like a son--and who knows
what Heaven had in store for us, Osip Mihailitch?--and all of a sudden
to inform against me--to think of that now!... What am I to think of
mankind after that, Osip Mihailitch?' Yes, gentlemen, he did read me a
lecture! 'Come,' he said, 'you tell me what I am to think of mankind
after that, Osip Mihailitch.' 'What is he to think?' I thought; and do
you know, there was a lump in my throat, and my voice was quivering, and
knowing my hateful weakness, I snatched up my hat. 'Where are you off
to, Osip Mihailitch? Surely on the eve of such a day you cannot bear
malice against me? What wrong have I done you?...' 'Fedosey Nikolaitch,'
I said, 'Fedosey Nikolaitch....' In fact, I melted, gentlemen, I melted
like a sugar-stick. And the roll of notes that was lying in my pocket,
that, too, seemed screaming out: 'You ungrateful brigand, you accursed
thief!' It seemed to weigh a hundredweight ... (if only it had weighed a
hundredweight!).... 'I see,' says Fedosey Nikolaitch, 'I see your
penitence ... you know to-morrow....' 'St. Mary of Egypt's day....'
'Well, don't weep,' said Fedosey Nikolaitch, 'that's enough: you've
erred, and you are penitent! Come along! Maybe I may succeed in bringing
you back again into the true path,' says he ... 'maybe, my modest
Penates' (yes,'Penates,' I remember he used that expression, the rascal)
'will warm,' says he, 'your harden ... I will not say hardened, but
erring heart....' He took me by the arm, gentlemen, and led me to his
family circle. A cold shiver ran down my back; I shuddered! I thought
with what eyes shall I present myself--you must know, gentlemen ... eh,
what shall I say?--a delicate position had arisen here."

"Not Madame Polzunkov?"

"Marya Fedosyevna, only she was not destined, you know, to bear the name
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