The Crocodile Page #6

"The Crocodile" is a satirical novella by Fyodor Dostoevsky, first published in 1865. The story follows a man named Ivan Matveich, who is swallowed alive by a crocodile while visiting a zoo in St. Petersburg. Throughout the narrative, Dostoevsky explores themes of existentialism, identity, and the absurdity of human existence. As Ivan navigates his unusual circumstances, he reflects on society's reactions to his plight and the nature of life and death. The novella combines dark humor with philosophical insights, showcasing Dostoevsky's skill in blending the absurd with profound social commentary.

• Novel

								

no precedent for it. If we had any sort of precedent for it, then, to my
thinking, he might have been given the job."

"But no live crocodiles have been brought over hitherto, Timofey
Semyonitch."

"Hm ... yes," he reflected again. "Your objection is a just one, if you
like, and might indeed serve as a ground for carrying the matter further;
but consider again, that if with the arrival of living crocodiles
government clerks begin to disappear, and then on the ground that they are
warm and comfortable there, expect to receive the official sanction for
their position, and then take their ease there ... you must admit it would
be a bad example. We should have every one trying to go the same way to get
a salary for nothing."

"Do your best for him, Timofey Semyonitch. By the way, Ivan Matveitch asked
me to give you seven roubles he had lost to you at cards."

"Ah, he lost that the other day at Nikifor Nikiforitch's. I remember. And
how gay and amusing he was--and now!"

The old man was genuinely touched.

"Intercede for him, Timofey Semyonitch!"

"I will do my best. I will speak in my own name, as a private person, as
though I were asking for information. And meanwhile, you find out
indirectly, unofficially, how much would the proprietor consent to take
for his crocodile?"

Timofey Semyonitch was visibly more friendly.

"Certainly," I answered. "And I will come back to you at once to report."

"And his wife ... is she alone now? Is she depressed?"

"You should call on her, Timofey Semyonitch."

"I will. I thought of doing so before; it's a good opportunity.... And what
on earth possessed him to go and look at the crocodile? Though, indeed, I
should like to see it myself."

"Go and see the poor fellow, Timofey Semyonitch."

"I will. Of course, I don't want to raise his hopes by doing so. I shall go
as a private person.... Well, good-bye, I am going to Nikifor Nikiforitch's
again: shall you be there?"

"No, I am going to see the poor prisoner."

"Yes, now he is a prisoner!... Ah, that's what comes of thoughtlessness!"

I said good-bye to the old man. Ideas of all kinds were straying through my
mind. A good-natured and most honest man, Timofey Semyonitch, yet, as I
left him, I felt pleased at the thought that he had celebrated his fiftieth
year of service, and that Timofey Semyonitchs are now a rarity among us. I
flew at once, of course, to the Arcade to tell poor Ivan Matveitch all the
news. And, indeed, I was moved by curiosity to know how he was getting on
in the crocodile and how it was possible to live in a crocodile. And,
indeed, was it possible to live in a crocodile at all? At times it really
seemed to me as though it were all an outlandish, monstrous dream,
especially as an outlandish monster was the chief figure in it.

III

And yet it was not a dream, but actual, indubitable fact. Should I be
telling the story if it were not? But to continue.

It was late, about nine o'clock, before I reached the Arcade, and I had to
go into the crocodile room by the back entrance, for the German had closed
the shop earlier than usual that evening. Now in the seclusion of
domesticity he was walking about in a greasy old frock-coat, but he seemed
three times as pleased as he had been in the morning. It was evidently that
he had no apprehensions now, and that the public had been coming "many
more." The Mutter came out later, evidently to keep an eye on me. The
German and the Mutter frequently whispered together. Although the shop
was closed he charged me a quarter-rouble! What unnecessary exactitude!

"You will every time pay; the public will one rouble, and you one quarter
pay; for you are the good friend of your good friend; and I a friend
respect...."

"Are you alive, are you alive, my cultured friend?" I cried, as I
approached the crocodile, expecting my words to reach Ivan Matveitch from a
distance and to flatter his vanity.

"Alive and well," he answered, as though from a long way off or from under
the bed, though I was standing close beside him. "Alive and well; but of
that later.... How are things going?"

As though purposely not hearing the question, I was just beginning with
sympathetic haste to question him how he was, what it was like in the
crocodile, and what, in fact, there was inside a crocodile. Both friendship
and common civility demanded this. But with capricious annoyance he
interrupted me.

"How are things going?" he shouted, in a shrill and on this occasion
particularly revolting voice, addressing me peremptorily as usual.

I described to him my whole conversation with Timofey Semyonitch down to
the smallest detail. As I told my story I tried to show my resentment in my
voice.

"The old man is right," Ivan Matveitch pronounced as abruptly as usual in
his conversation with me. "I like practical people, and can't endure
sentimental milk-sops. I am ready to admit, however, that your idea about a
special commission is not altogether absurd. I certainly have a great deal
to report, both from a scientific and from an ethical point of view. But
now all this has taken a new and unexpected aspect, and it is not worth
while to trouble about mere salary. Listen attentively. Are you sitting
down?"

"No, I am standing up."

"Sit down on the floor if there is nothing else, and listen attentively."

Resentfully I took a chair and put it down on the floor with a bang, in my
anger.

"Listen," he began dictatorially. "The public came to-day in masses. There
was no room left in the evening, and the police came in to keep order. At
eight o'clock, that is, earlier than usual, the proprietor thought it
necessary to close the shop and end the exhibition to count the money he
had taken and prepare for to-morrow more conveniently. So I know there will
be a regular fair to-morrow. So we may assume that all the most cultivated
people in the capital, the ladies of the best society, the foreign
ambassadors, the leading lawyers and so on, will all be present. What's
more, people will be flowing here from the remotest provinces of our vast
and interesting empire. The upshot of it is that I am the cynosure of all
eyes, and though hidden to sight, I am eminent. I shall teach the idle
crowd. Taught by experience, I shall be an example of greatness and
resignation to fate! I shall be, so to say, a pulpit from which to instruct
mankind. The mere biological details I can furnish about the monster I am
inhabiting are of priceless value. And so, far from repining at what has
happened, I confidently hope for the most brilliant of careers."

"You won't find it wearisome?" I asked sarcastically.

What irritated me more than anything was the extreme pomposity of his
language. Nevertheless, it all rather disconcerted me. "What on earth,
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