The Idiot Page #3

"The Idiot" by Aleksandr Kuprin is a poignant novel that explores the life of its protagonist, a simple and kind-hearted man named the Prince Lev Nikolayevich Myshkin, who returns to Russia after spending years in a sanatorium for epilepsy. The story delves into themes of innocence, morality, and the clash between idealism and the harsh realities of society. As Myshkin navigates the complexities of love, social dynamics, and human folly, he becomes a mirror reflecting the weaknesses and vice of those around him. Kuprin's rich prose and deep characterizations invite readers to contemplate the nature of good and evil in a world rife with hypocrisy and struggle.

• Novel

								

more than two and a half copecks a pound, what shall I do if the man
cuts it overweight? I know it's possible to owe five or ten roubles
in a restaurant, and say to the waiter, "Put it down to my account,
please," but what can one do if one hasn't enough by one copeck?'

"Hurrah! The bread cost exactly three copecks. I shifted about from one
foot to another while it was being wrapped up in paper. As soon as I
got out of the shop and felt in my pocket the soft warmth of the bread,
I wanted to cry out for joy and begin to munch it, as children do those
crusts which they steal from the table after a long day's romping, to
eat as they lie in their beds. And I couldn't restrain myself. Even in
the street I thrust into my mouth two large tasty morsels.

"Yes. I tell you all this in almost a cheerful tone. But I was far
from cheerful then. Add to my torture of hunger the stinging shame of
failure; the near prospect of being the laughing-stock of my regimental
companions; the charming amiability of the official on whom depended my
cursed 'dismissal'.... I tell you frankly, in those days I was face to
face all the time with the thought of suicide.

"Next day my hunger again seemed unbearable. I went along to Alexandra
Ivanovna. As soon as Stepan saw me he went into an ecstasy. He cried
out, jumped about me, and licked my coat-sleeve. When at length I sat
down he placed himself near me on the floor and pressed up against my
legs. Alexandra Ivanovna was obliged to send him away by force.

"It was very unpleasant to have to ask a loan from this poor woman, who
herself found life so difficult, but I resolved I must do so.

"'Alexandra Ivanovna,' said I. 'I've nothing to eat. Lend me what money
you can, please.'

"She wrung her hands.

"'My dear boy, I haven't a copeck. Yesterday I pawned my brooch....
To-day I was able to buy something in the market, but to-morrow I don't
know what I shall do.'

"'Can't you borrow a little from your sister?' I suggested.

"Alexandra Ivanovna looked round with a frightened air, and whispered,
almost in terror:

"'What are you saying? What! Don't you know I live here on her charity?
No, we'd better think of some other way of getting it.'

"But the more we thought the more difficult it appeared. After a while
we became silent. Evening came on, and the room was filled with a heavy
wearisome gloom. Despair and hate and hunger tortured me. I felt as if
I were abandoned on the edge of the world, alone and humiliated.

"Suddenly something touched my side. I turned. It was Stepan. He held
out to me on his palm a little pile of copper money, and said: 'Teki,
teki, teki....'

"I did not understand. Then he threw his money on to my knee, called
out once more--teki--and ran off into his corner.

"Well, why should I hide it? I wept like a child; sobbed out, long
and loudly. Alexandra Ivanovna wept also, out of pity and tenderness,
and from his far corner Stepan uttered his pitiful, unmeaning cry of
oorli, oorli, oorli.

"When I became quieter I felt better. The unexpected sympathy of the
idiot boy had suddenly warmed and soothed my heart, and shown me that
it is possible to live, and that one ought to live, as long as there is
love and compassion in the world."

"That is why," concluded Zimina, finishing his story, "that is why I
pity all these unfortunates, and why I can't deny that they are human
beings." Yes, and by the way, his sympathy brought me happiness. Now
I'm very glad I didn't become a "moment"--that's our nickname for the
officers of the General Staff. Since that time I have had a full and
broad life, and promises to be as full in the future. I'm superstitious
about it.
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