You may be a mathematician but, my word, you're not very bright.
MATHEMATICIAN:
No, I'm bright and I know an awful lot! No, I'm bright and I know an awful lot! No, I'm bright and I know an awful lot!
ANDREY SEMYONOVICH:
A lot, yes, only it's all rubbish.
MATHEMATICIAN:
No, it's not rubbish! No, it's not rubbish! No, it's not rubbish!
ANDREY SEMYONOVICH:
I'm fed up with arguing with you!
MATHEMATICIAN:
No, I'm not fed up! No, I'm not fed up! No, I'm not fed up!
ANDREY SEMYONOVICH waves his hand in annoyance and walks away. The MATHEMATICIAN, after standing for a minute, walks off after ANDREY SEMYONOVICH.
(Curtain)
(1933)
The Young Man who Astonished a Watchman
-- Look at that! -- said the watchman, examining a fly. -- If I smeared it with carpenter's glue, then that would very likely be the end of it. What a laugh! Just with a bit of glue!
-- Hey you, leprechaun! -- a young man in yellow gloves hailed the watchman.
The watchman immediately realized that this was addressed to him, but he continued looking at the fly.
-- I'm talking to you, aren't I? -- the young man shouted again. -- You yahoo!
The watchman crushed the fly with his finger and, without turning his head to the young man, said:
-- Who do you think you're bawling at, you cheeky bugger? I can hear you all right. There's no need to bawl like that!
The young man brushed his trousers down with his gloves and asked, in a refined voice: -- Tell me, old chap, how do I get to heaven from here?
The watchman stared at the young man, screwed up one eye, then screwed up the other, then scratched his beard, stared at the young man again and said: -- There's nothing to hang about here for, go on, on your way.
-- Excuse me -- said the young man -- it's an urgent matter for me. There's even a room ready booked for me there.
-- Okay -- said the watchman -- show me your ticket.
-- I haven't got a ticket on me; they said I'd be let in, just like that -- said the young man, looking the watchman in the eye.
-- Look at that! -- said the watchman.
-- So, what about it, then? -- said the young man. -- Are you going to let me through?
-- Okay, okay -- said the watchman. -- Go on, then.
-- And how do I get there? Where is it? -- asked the young man. -- You see, I don't know the way.
-- Where do you need to go? -- asked the watchman, putting on a severe look.
The young man covered his face with the palm of his hand and said very quietly: -- To heaven!
The watchman leaned forward, moved his right leg so as to stand up more firmly, looked at the young man intently and asked sternly:
-- What are you doing? Playing the bloody fool?
The young man smiled, raised his hand in its yellow glove, waved it above his head and suddenly disappeared.
The watchman sniffed the air. There was a smell of burnt feathers in the air.
-- Look at that! -- said the watchman; he unzipped his jerkin, scratched his stomach, spat on the spot where the young man had stood and slowly went off to his hut.
(1936)
Four Illustrations of How a New Idea Disconcerts a Man Unprepared for It
1.
WRITER: I'm a writer.
READER: In my opinion you're shit!
THE WRITER stands for a few minutes, shaken by this new idea, and falls down in a dead faint. He is carried out.
2.
ARTIST: I'm an artist.
WORKER: In my opinion you're shit!
THE ARTIST turns as white as a sheet, sways like a thin reed and unexpectedly expires. He is carried out.
3.
COMPOSER: I am a composer.
VANYA RUBLYOV: In my opinion you are . . .!
THE COMPOSER, breathing heavily, sank back. He is unexpectedly carried out.
4.
CHEMIST: I'm a chemist.
PHYSICIST: In my opinion you're . . .!
THE CHEMIST said not another word and collapsed heavily to the floor.
Losses
Andrey Andreyevich Myasov bought a wick at the market and carried it off homewards.
On the way, Andrey Andreyevich lost the wick and went into a shop to buy 150 grams of Poltava sausage. Then Andrey Andreyevich went into the dairy and bought a bottle of curds, then he drank a small mug of kvass at a stall and joined the queue for a newspaper. The queue was a rather long one and Andrey Andreyevich stood for no less than twenty minutes in the queue, and when he reached the newspaper seller the newspaper ran out right in front of his nose.
Andrey Andreyevich was stymied and he went off home, but on the way he lost the curds and dropped into the bakery, where he bought a stick of French bread, but lost the Poltava sausage.
Then Andrey Andreyevich went straight home, but on the way he fell down, lost the French bread and broke his pince-nez.
Andrey Andreyevich reached home in a very bad mood and straight away went to bed, but could not get to sleep for a long time and when he did get to sleep he had a dream: he dreamt that he had lost his toothbrush and that he was cleaning his teeth with some sort of a candlestick.
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 fulfill another's desire and how difficult to fulfill one's own desire.
PETERSEN: You didn't half say that solemnly. That's how Indian chiefs speak.
MAKAROV: 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 Malghil.
PETERSEN vanishes.
MAKAROV: Good Lord! What's this, then? Petersen!
VOICE OF PETERSEN: What's happened? Makarov! Where are you?
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 you 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.'
(Curtain)
(1934)
A Lynching
Petrov gets on his horse and, addressing the crowd, makes a speech about what will happen if, in the place where the public park now is, an American skyscraper will be built. The crowd listens and evidently is in agreement. Petrov notes down something for himself in his notebook. From the crowd there may be distinguished a man of average height who asks Petrov what he has written down for himself in his notebook. Petrov replies that this concerns only himself. The man of average height persists. One word leads to another: and a strife ensues. The crowd takes the side of the man of average height and Petrov, to save his hide, urges on his horse and makes off round the bend. The crowd gets agitated and, for the lack of another victim, grabs the man of average height and tears off his head. The torn off head rolls down the pavement and g
ets stuck in an open drain. The crowd, having satisfied its passions, disperses.
An Encounter
On one occasion a man went off to work and on the way he met another man who, having bought a loaf of Polish bread, was going his way home.
And that's just about all there is to it.
An Unsuccessful Show
On to the stage comes PETRAKOV-GORBUNOV, who wants to say something but hiccups. He starts to throw up. He leaves. Enter PRITYKIN.
PRITYKIN: Our esteemed Petrakov-Gorbunov has to ann . . . (He throws up and runs off stage.)
Enter MAKAROV.
MAKAROV: Yegor . . . (Makarov throws up. fife runs off.)
Enter SERPUKHOV.
SERPUKHOV: So as not to be . . . (He throws up and runs off.)
Enter KUROVA.
KUROVA: I would have . . . (She throws up and runs off.)
Enter a LITTLE GIRL.
LITTLE GIRL: Daddy asked me to let you all know that the theatre is closing. We are all being sick!
(Curtain)
Chunk
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 gypsum 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 armchair 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 lo say anything. YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH gets up from the armchair, looks OLGA
PETROVNA up and down and slowly walks away. OLGA PETROVNA Stays immobile, mouth open, and gazes after the retreating YEVDOKIM OSIPOVICH.
(Slow curtain)
What They Sell in the Shops These Days
Koratygin came to see Tikakeyev but didn't find him in.
At that time Tikakeyev was at the shop buying sugar, meat and cucumbers.
Koratygin hung about by Tikakeyev's door and was just thinking of scribbling a note when he suddenly looked up to see Tikakeyev himself coming, carrying in his arms an oilskin bag.
Koratygin spotted Tikakeyev and shouted: -- I've been waiting for you a whole hour!
-- That's not true -- said Tikakeyev -- I've only been out of the house twenty-five minutes.
-- Well, I don't know about that -- said Koratygin -- except that I've already been here a whole hour.
-- Don't tell lies -- said Tikakeyev -- you should be ashamed to lie.
-- My dear fellow! -- said Koratygin -- Be so good as to be a little more particular with your expressions.
-- I consider ... -- began Tikakeyev, but Koratygin interrupted him:
-- If you consider . . . -- he said, but at this point Tikakeyev interrupted Koratygin and said:
-- A fine one you are!
These words put Koratygin into such a frenzy that he pressed a finger against one of his nostrils and through his other nostril blew snot at Tikakeyev.
Then Tikakeyev pulled the biggest cucumber out of his bag and hit Koratygin across the head with it.
Koratygin clutched at his head with his hands, fell down and died.
That's the size of the cucumbers sold in the shops these days!
Mashkin Killed Koshkin
Comrade Koshkin danced around Comrade Mashkin.
Comrade Mashkin followed Comrade Koshkin with his eyes.
Comrade Koshkin insultingly waved his arms and repulsively shook his legs.
Comrade Mashkin put on a frown.
Comrade Koshkin twitched his belly and stamped his right foot.
Comrade Mashkin let out a cry and flung himself at Comrade Koshkin.
Comrade Koshkin tried to run away, but stumbled and was overtaken by Comrade Mashkin.
Comrade Mashkin struck Comrade Koshkin on the head with his fist.
Comrade Koshkin let out a cry and fell to his hands and knees.
Comrade Mashkin put the boot in to Comrade Koshkin under the belly and once more struck him across the skull with his fist.
Comrade Koshkin measured his length on the floor and died.
Mashkin killed Koshkin.
Sleep Teases a Man
Markov took off his boots and, with a deep breath, lay down on the divan.
He felt sleepy but, as soon as he closed his eyes, the desire for sleep immediately passed. Markov opened his eyes and stretched out his hand for a book. But sleep again came over him and, not even reaching the book, Markov lay down and once more closed his eyes. But, the moment his eyes closed, sleepiness left him again and his consciousness became so clear that Markov could solve in his head algebraical problems involving equations with two unknown quantities.
Markov was tormented for quite some time, not knowing what to do: should he sleep or should he liven himself up? Finally, exhausted and thoroughly sick of himself and his room, Markov put on his coat and hat, took his walking cane and went out on to the street. The fresh breeze calmed Makarov down, he became rather more at one with himself and felt like going back home to his room.
Upon going into his room, he experienced an agreeable bodily fatigue and felt like sleeping. But, as soon as he lay down on the divan and closed his eyes, his sleepiness instantly evaporated.
In a fury, Markov jumped up from his divan and, hatless and coatless, raced off in the direction of Tavrichesky Park.
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 went 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 off Kozlov's leg): I'm right here.
KOZLOV: Oh, my gosh golly!
STRYUCHKOV AND MOTYLKOV: Seems he's ripped the leg off him as well!
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... 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 no great shakes 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 barely.
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!
I Had Raised Dust: Selected Works Page 2