Rehabilitation
Without boasting, I can tell you that, when Volodya struck me across the ear and spat in my face, I really got him, so that he won’t forget it. It was only after that that I hit him with the primus and it was evening when I hit him with the iron. So he didn’t die by any means straight away. This doesn’t prove that I cut his leg off as early as the afternoon. He was still alive then. Whereas Andryusha I killed simply from inertia, and I can’t hold myself responsible for that. Why did Andryusha and Yelizaveta Antonovna fall into my hands anyway? They had no business springing out from behind the door. I am being accused of bloodthirstiness; they say I drank blood, but that’s not true: I licked up the pools of blood and the stains – it is a man’s natural urge to wipe out the traces of even the most trivial of crimes. And also I did not rape Yelizaveta Antonovna. In the first place, she was no longer a virgin; and secondly I was having dealings with a corpse, so she has no cause for complaint. What about the fact that she just happened to have to give birth? Well, I did pull out the infant. The fact that he was not long for this world anyway, well that’s really not my fault. I didn’t tear his head off; it was his thin neck that did that. He was simply not created for this life. It’s true that I stomped their dog to pulp around the floor, but it’s really cynical to accuse me of murdering a dog when in the immediate vicinity, it might be said, three human lives had been obliterated. The infant I don’t count. Well, all right then, in all this (I can agree with you) it is possible to discern a degree of severity on my part. But to consider it a crime that I squatted down and defecated on my victims – that is really, if you’ll excuse me, absurd. Defecation is an urge of nature and consequently can in no sense be criminal. All things considered, I do understand the misgivings of my defence counsel, but all the same I am hoping for a complete acquittal.
([10 July] 1941)
II
DIALOGUES
Pushkin and Gogol
GOGOL (falls out from the wings on stage and quietly lies there)
PUSHKIN (appears on stage, stumbles over Gogol and falls): What the devil! Seems I’ve tripped over Gogol!
GOGOL (getting up): What a vile abomination! You can’t even have a rest. (Walks off, stumbles over Pushkin and falls): Seems I’ve stumbled over Pushkin!
PUSHKIN (getting up): Not a minute’s peace! (Walks off, stumbles over Gogol and falls): What the devil! Seems I’ve tripped over Gogol again!
GOGOL (getting up): Always an obstacle in everything! (Walks off, stumbles over Pushkin and falls): It’s a vile abomination! Tripped over Pushkin again!
PUSHKIN (getting up): Hooliganism! Sheer hooliganism! (Walks off, stumbles over Gogol and falls): What the devil! Tripped over Gogol again!
GOGOL (getting up): It’s sheer mockery! (Walks off, stumbles over Pushkin and falls): Tripped over Pushkin again!
PUSHKIN (getting up): What the devil! Well, really, what the devil! (Walks off, stumbles over Gogol and falls): Over Gogol!
GOGOL (getting up): Vile abomination! (Walks off, stumbles over Pushkin and falls): Over Pushkin!
PUSHKIN (getting up): What the devil! (Walks off, stumbles over Gogol and falls into the wings): Over Gogol!
GOGOL (getting up): Vile abomination! (Walks off into wings; from offstage): Over Pushkin!
(curtain)
Clunk
Summer. A writing table. A door to the right. A picture on the wall. The picture is a drawing of a horse, the horse has a gypsy in its teeth. Olga Petrovna is chopping wood. At every blow Olga Petrovna’s pince-nez leaps from her nose. Yevdokim Osipovich is seated in an arm-chair smoking.
OLGA PETROVNA (strikes with the chopper at the log, which, however, does not as much as splinter)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
OLGA PETROVNA (putting on her pince-nez, swipes at the log)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
OLGA PETROVNA (putting on her pince-nez, swipes at the log)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
OLGA PETROVNA (putting on her pince-nez, swipes at the log)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
OLGA PETROVNA (putting on her pince-nez): Yevdokim Osipovich! I implore you, don’t keep saying that word ‘clunk’.
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Very well, very well.
OLGA PETROVNA (striking with the chopper at the log)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
OLGA PETROVNA Yevdokim Osipovich. You promised not to keep saying that word ‘clunk’.
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Very well, very well, Olga Petrovna. I won’t any more.
OLGA PETROVNA (striking with the chopper at log)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
OLGA PETROVNA (putting on her pince-nez): This is disgraceful. A grown-up, middle-aged man, and he doesn’t understand a simple human request.
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Olga Petrovna! You may carry on with your work in peace. I won’t disturb you any more.
OLGA PETROVNA I implore you, I really implore you: let me chop this log at least.
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Chop away, of course you can, chop away.
OLGA PETROVNA (striking with chopper at log)
YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH Clunk!
Olga Petrovna drops the chopper, opens her mouth, but is unable to say anything. Yevdokim Osipovich gets up from the arm-chair, looks Olga Petrovna up and down and slowly walks away. Olga Petrovna stands immobile, mouth open, and gazes after the retreating Yevdokim Osipovich.
(slow curtain)
Makarov and Petersen
(subtitled ‘No. 3’)
MAKAROV Here, in this book, is written all concerning our desires and their fulfillment. Read this book, and you will understand how empty are our desires. You will also understand how easy it is to fulfil another’s desire and how difficult to fulfil one’s own desire.
PETERSEN
You didn’t half say that solemnly. That’s how Indian chiefs speak.
MAKAROVA
This is such a book that it must be spoken of in elevated tones. When I so much as think of it I take off my hat.
PETERSEN
Do you wash your hands before you touch it, then?
MAKAROV
Yes, and the hands must be washed.
PETERSEN
You ought to wash your feet, to be on the safe side.
MAKAROV
That was most unwitty and rude.
PETERSEN
But what is this book?
MAKAROV
The name of this book is secret…
PETERSEN
Tee-hee-hee!
MAKAROV
This book is called MALGIL. (Petersen disappears.)
MAKAROV
Good Lord! What’s this, then? Petersen!
VOICE OF
PETERSEN
What’s happened? Makarov! Where am I?
MAKAROV
Where are you? I can’t see you.
VOICE OF
PETERSEN
And where are you? I can’t see you either. What are these spheres?
MAKAROV
What can we do? Petersen, can you hear me?
VOICE OF
PETERSEN
I can hear you! But whatever’s happened? And what are these spheres?
MAKAROV
Can vou move?
VOICE OF
PETERSEN
Makarov! Can you see these spheres?
MAKAROV
What spheres?
VOICE OF
PETERSEN
Let me go! … Let me go! … Makarov! (Silence. Makarov stands in horror, then grabs the book and opens it.)
MAKAROV
(reads):… ‘Gradually man loses his form and becomes a sphere. And, once a sphere, man loses all his desires.’
The Hunters
Six men went hunting, but only four returned.
Two, in fact, hadn’t returned.
Oknov, Kozlov, Stryuchkov and Motylkov returned home safely, but Shirokov and Kablukov perished on the hunt.
Oknov we
nt around very upset the whole day and wouldn’t even talk to anyone. Kozlov walked round behind Oknov with great persistence, badgering him with all manner of questions, by which means he drove Oknov to a point of extreme irritation.
KOZLOV Do you fancy a smoke?
OKNOV No!
KOZLOV Do you want me to bring you that thing over there?
OKNOV No!
KOZLOV Perhaps you’d like me to tell you a funny story?
OKNOV No!
KOZLOV Well, do you want a drink? I’ve got some tea and cognac here.
OKNOV Not content with just having smashed you over the skull with this stone, I’ll rip your leg off as well.
STRYUCHKOV AND MOTYLKOV What are you doing? What are you doing?
KOZLOV Pick me up from the ground.
MOTYLKOV Don’t you get excited now, that wound will heal.
KOZLOV And where’s Oknov?
OKNOV (ripping away at Kozlov’s leg): I’m right here.
KOZLOV Oh, my gosh! he-elp!
STRYUCHKOV AND MOTYLKOV Seems he’s ripped the leg off him!
OKNOV Ripped it off and thrown it over there!
STRYUCHKOV That’s atrocious!
OKNOV Wha-at?
STRYUCHKOV . . ocious …
OKNOV What’s that?
STRYUCHKOV N-n… nothing.
KOZLOV How am I going to get home?
MOTYLKOV Don’t worry, we’ll fix a wooden leg on you!
STRYUCHKOV What are you like at standing on one leg?
KOZLOV I can do it, but I’m not too good at it.
STRYUCHKOV That’s all right, we’ll support you.
OKNOV Let me get at him.
STRYUCHKOV Hey, no. You’d better go away!
OKNOV No, let me through!… Let me!… Let… That’s what I wanted to do.
STRYUCHKOV AND MOTYLKOV How horrible!
OKNOV Ha, ha, ha.
MOTYLKOV But where is Kozlov?
STRYUCHKOV He’s crawled off into the bushes!
MOTYLKOV Kozlov, are you there?
KOZLOV Glug-glug!
MOTYLKOV Now look what’s become of him!
STRYUCHKOV What’s to be done with him?
MOTYLKOV Well, we can’t do a thing with him, now. In my view, we’d better just strangle him. Kozlov! Hey Kozlov! Can you hear me?
KOZLOV O-oh, yes, but only just.
MOTYLKOV Don’t you upset yourself mate, we’re just going to strangle you. Wait a minute, now! … There, there, there we are.
STRYUCHKOV Here we are, and again! That’s the way, yes! Come on, a bit more … Now, that’s that!
MOTYLKOV That’s that, then!
OKNOV Lord have mercy on him!.
Comprehensive Research
YERMOLAYEV I have been at Blinov’s and he gave me a demonstration of his strength. I’ve never seen anything like it. The strength of a wild animal! It was awful to behold. Blinov lifted up a writing table, swung it about and tossed it all of four metres away from him.
DOCTOR It would be interesting to research this phenomenon. Such facts are known to science, but the reasons for it are not understood. Where such muscular strength comes from, scientists are not yet able to say. Introduce me to Blinov. I’ll give him a research pill.
YERMOLAYEV What sort of a pill is it that you are intending to give Blinov?
DOCTOR Pill? I don’t intend to give him a pill.
YERMOLAYEV But you only just said yourself that you were intending to give him a pill.
DOCTOR No, no. You are mistaken. I didn’t mention a pill.
YERMOLAYEV Well, excuse me, but I heard you mention a pill.
DOCTOR No.
YERMOLAYEV What do you mean – no?
DOCTOR I didn’t say that.
YERMOLAYEV Who didn’t say it?
DOCTOR You didn’t say it.
YERMOLAYEV What didn’t I say?
DOCTOR You, it seems to me, didn’t finish saying something.
YERMOLAYEV I don’t understand. What didn’t I finish saying?
DOCTOR Your speech pattern is very typical. You swallow your words, you don’t complete the utterance of your initial thought, you hurry and then you stutter.
YERMOLAYEV When did I stutter? I speak quite fluently.
DOCTOR Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Do you see? You’re even starting to come out in red blotches from the tension. Your hands haven’t gone cold yet?
YERMOLAYEV No, but so what?
DOCTOR Yes, that was my supposition. I think you’re already having trouble breathing. You’d better sit down, before you fall down. That’s right. Now have a rest.
YERMOLAYEV But what for?
DOCTOR Sh! Don’t strain your vocal chords. Now I’m going to alleviate your fate.
YERMOLAYEV Doctor! You frighten me.
DOCTOR My dear friend! I want to help you. Here, take this. Swallow it!
YERMOLAYEV Oh. Ooh! What a vile, disgusting taste! What is it you’ve given me?
DOCTOR Nothing, it’s all right. Calm down. It’s a sure remedy.
YERMOLAYEV I’m hot and everything seems to be turning green.
DOCTOR Yes, that’s right, my dear friend, In a minute, you’ll die.
YERMOLAYEV What are you saying? Doctor! Oh! I can’t! Doctor! What have you given me? Oh, Doctor!
DOCTOR You have swallowed the research pill.
YERMOLAYEV Save me. Oh. Save me. Oh. Let me breathe. Oh. Save …. Oh. Breathe …
DOCTOR He’s gone quiet. And he’s not breathing. That means he’s dead already. He has died, not finding on earth the answers to his questions. Yes, we physicians must comprehensively research the phenomenon of death.
(21 June 1937)
III
STORIES
Five Unfinished Narratives
Dear Yakov Semyonovich,
1. A certain man, having taken a run, struck his head against a smithy with such force that the blacksmith put aside the sledge-hammer which he was holding, took off his leather apron and, having smoothed his hair with his palm, went out on to the street to see what had happened. 2. Then the smith spotted the man sitting on the ground. The man was sitting on the ground and holding his head. 3. – What happened? – asked the smith. – Ooh! – said the man. 4. The smith went a bit closer to the man. 5. We discontinue the narrative about the smith and the unknown man and begin a new narrative about four friends and a harem. 6. Once upon a time there were four harem fanatics. They considered it rather pleasant to have eight women at a time each. They would gather of an evening and debate harem life. They drank wine; they drank themselves blind drunk; they collapsed under the table; they puked up. It was disgusting to look at them. They bit each other on the leg. They bandied obscenities at each other. They crawled about on their bellies. 7. We discontinue the story about them and begin a new story about beer. 8. There was a barrel of beer and next to it sat a philosopher who contended: – This barrel is full of beer; the beer is fermenting and strengthening. And I in my mind ferment along the starry summits and strengthen my spirit. Beer is a drink flowing in space; I also am a drink, flowing in time. 9. When beer is enclosed in a barrel, it has nowhere to flow. Time will stop and I will stand up. 10. But if time does not stop, then my flow is immutable. 11. No, it’s better to let the beer flow freely, for it’s contrary to the laws of nature for it to stand still. – And with these words the philosopher turned on the tap in the barrel and the beer poured out over the floor. 12. We have related enough about beer; now we shall relate about a drum. 13. A philosopher beat a drum and shouted: – I am making a philosophical noise! This noise is of no use to anyone, it even annoys everyone. But if it annoys everyone, that means it is not of this world. And if it’s not of this world, then it’s from another world. And if it is from another world, then I shall keep making it. 14. The philosopher made his noise for a long time. But we shall leave this noisy story and turn to the following quiet story about trees. 15. A philosopher went for a walk under some trees and remained silent, because in
spiration had deserted him.
(27 March 1931)
Pakin and Rakukin
– You, cut out that snottering! – said Pakin to Rakukin.
Rakukin wrinkled up his nose and looked most uncordially at Pakin.
– What are you looking at? Seen enough yet? – asked Pakin.
Rakukin chewed at his lips and, indignant in his revolving arm-chair, began looking the other way. Pakin drummed on his knee with his fingers and said:
– What a fool! I’d like to take a good stick to his skull.
Rakukin stood up and started to walk out of the room, but Pakin quickly leapt up, caught up with Rakukin and said:
– Wait a minute! Where d’ye think you’re rushing off to? Better sit down, I’ve something to show you.
Rakukin stopped and looked distrustfully at Pakin.
– What, don’t you believe me? – asked Pakin.
– I believe you – said Rakukin.
– Well then, sit down here, in this arm-chair – said Pakin.
And Rakukin sat down again in his revolving arm-chair.
– So, then – said Pakin – what are you sitting in that chair for, like a fool?
Rakukin moved his legs about and began a rapid blinking of the eyes.
– Don’t blink – said Pakin.
Rakukin stopped blinking and, adopting a hunched posture, drew his head in to his shoulders.
– Sit straight – said Pakin.
Rakukin, continuing to sit hunched up, stuck out his belly and extended his neck.
– Ee – said Pakin – I couldn’t half give you a smack in the kisser!
Rakukin hiccupped, puffed out his cheeks, and then carefully emitted the air through his nostrils.
– Now, you, stop that snottering! – said Pakin to Rakukin.
Rakukin extended his neck even more and again began an extremely rapid blinking of the eyes.
The Plummeting Old Women Page 3