The Gambler and Other Stories (Penguin ed.)

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

  I glanced in the graves – it was terrible: water, and what water! It was absolutely green and … well, let’s leave it at that! The gravedigger was constantly bailing it out with a bucket. As the service was still going on, I strolled outside the gates. There’s an almshouse right there and a bit further on there’s a restaurant. The little restaurant wasn’t bad – fair to middling – and you can get a bite to eat and everything. It was packed with mourners. I noticed a good deal of merrymaking and heartfelt liveliness. I had a bite to eat and something to drink.

  Later I took part with my own hands in bearing the coffin from the church to the grave. Why is it that corpses are so heavy in their coffins? They say that it’s because of some sort of inertia, that the body is no longer in control of itself … or some such nonsense; it contradicts mechanics and common sense. I don’t like it when people with only a general education rush in to solve problems best left to specialists; and that happens all the time among us. Civilians like to have opinions on military matters, even those that concern a field marshal, while people educated as engineers more often than not have opinions on philosophy and political economy.

  I didn’t go to the prayer service. I’m proud, and if I’m only to be received out of dire necessity, then why should I trail along to their dinners, even if it is a funeral dinner? Only I don’t understand why I stayed on at the cemetery; I sat down on a monument and became suitably thoughtful.

  I began with the Moscow exhibition and ended with the subject of astonishment in general. Here’s what I came up with about ‘astonishment’:

  ‘To be astonished at everything, of course, is silly, while to be astonished at nothing is much more handsome, and for some reason is recognized as good form. But surely it’s not like that in reality. In my opinion, it’s much sillier to be astonished at nothing than to be astonished at everything. And what’s more: to be astonished at nothing is almost the same thing as to respect nothing. And a silly man is not capable of showing respect.’

  ‘And above all I want to feel respect. I thirst to feel respect,’ an acquaintance of mine said to me on one occasion recently.

  He thirsts to feel respect! And my God, I thought, what would become of you if you dared to print that now!

  And that’s when I started daydreaming. I don’t like reading the inscriptions on gravestones; it’s forever the same thing. A half-eaten sandwich lay on the gravestone next to me: it was silly and out of place. I threw it on the ground, since it wasn’t bread but just a sandwich. However, dropping bread crumbs on the ground isn’t a sin, it seems; it’s when it’s on the floor that it’s a sin.8 I should look it up in Suvorin’s calendar.9

  One might suppose that I’d been sitting there for a long time, even too long; that is, I even lay down on a long stone in the shape of a marble coffin. And how did it happen that I suddenly began to hear various things? At first I didn’t pay any attention and regarded it with disdain. However, the conversation continued. I listened – the sounds were muffled, as though they had pillows covering their mouths; and yet they were intelligible and very near. I roused myself, sat up and began to listen carefully.

  ‘Your Excellency, this is simply impossible, sir. You declared hearts, I’m following your lead and suddenly you have the seven of diamonds. We should have made arrangements about diamonds earlier, sir.’

  ‘What’s that, you mean we should play by rote? Where’s the attraction in that?’

  ‘You can’t, Your Excellency. You can’t play without rules. We absolutely must have a dummy and the cards must be dealt face down.’

  ‘Well, you won’t find a dummy here.’

  What arrogant words, however! Both strange and unexpected. One voice was so weighty and dignified, while the other seemed softly honeyed; I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it myself. I didn’t think I was at the prayer service. And yet how was it that they’re playing preference10 here and who was this general? That it was coming from under the gravestone there could be no doubt. I bent down and read the inscription on the tombstone.

  ‘Here lies the body of Major General Pervoyedov … Knight of such and such orders.’ Hm. ‘Passed away in August of the year … fifty-seven … Rest, dear ashes, until the joyful morn!’11

  Hm, the devil, he really is a general! There wasn’t a tombstone yet on the other grave, the one the ingratiating voice came from; there was only a stone slab; must be a newcomer. Judging by his voice he was a court councillor.

  ‘Oh-ho-ho-ho!’ an altogether different voice could be heard coming from a quite new grave some dozen yards away from the general’s spot. It belonged to a man of the common people, but modulated to an obsequiously pious manner.

  ‘Oh-ho-ho-ho!’

  ‘Ah, he’s hiccuping again!’ suddenly resounded the squeamish and haughty voice of an irritated lady, who seemed to be from the highest society. ‘My punishment is to lie next to this shopkeeper!’

  ‘No, I didn’t hiccup at all, and I haven’t taken any food, it’s simply my nature. And still and all, my lady, these whims of yours just won’t let you settle down here.’

  ‘So why did you have to lie down here?’

  ‘They put me here, my wife and the little ones put me here, I didn’t lie down here myself. The mysteries of death! And I wouldn’t have lain down next to you for anything, not for all the money in the world; but my own capital got me my place here, reckoning by the price, madam. For we can always do that, I mean, put enough aside for our own third-class grave.’

  ‘You made a bundle, cheated people?’

  ‘How could we cheat you, when it seems there’s been no payment from you since January? We’ve got a little bill in your name at the shop.’

  ‘Well, now that’s silly; in my opinion, it’s very silly to look to have debts settled here! Go upstairs. Ask my niece; she’s my heir.’

  ‘But who can I ask now and where can I go? We have both reached the end, and before the judgement seat of God we are equal in our trespasses.’

  ‘In our trespasses!’ the dead woman mimicked disdainfully. ‘And don’t you dare speak another word to me!’

  ‘Oh-ho-ho-ho!’

  ‘The shopkeeper nevertheless obeys the lady, Your Excellency.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t he obey?’

  ‘Well, Your Excellency, as we know there’s a new order here.’

  ‘What new order is that?’

  ‘Well, you see, we’re dead, so to speak, Your Excellency.’

  ‘Ah, yes! But still there’s order …’

  Well, haven’t they done us a favour! What a comfort! If it’s already reached this point here, then why bother questioning what it’s like upstairs? But how they carry on! However, I continued listening, though with extreme indignation.

  ‘No, I would have lived a bit longer! No … I, you know … I would have lived a bit!’ a new voice suddenly made itself heard from somewhere between the general and the irritable lady.

  ‘Do you hear, Your Excellency, our friend is at it again. He’s quiet as can be for three days, and then suddenly: “I would have lived a bit! yes, I would have lived a bit!” And, you know, with such an appetite, he-he!’

  ‘And with such thoughtlessness.’

  ‘He can’t help it, Your Excellency, and, you know, he falls asleep, he’s already fast asleep; after all he’s been here since April, you see, and then suddenly: “I would have lived a bit.” ’

  ‘On the boring side, though,’ His Excellency observed.

  ‘On the boring side, Your Excellency. Perhaps we should tease Avdotya Ignatyevna again, he-he?’

  ‘Please don’t, spare me that. I can’t stand that quick-tempered crybaby.’

  ‘And I, for that matter, can’t stand the two of you either,’ the crybaby answered contemptuously. ‘You’re both incredible bores and you don’t know how to talk about the ideal. I know a little story about you, Your Excellency – don’t flatter yourself – about how a servant swept you out with a broom from under a certain married
couple’s bed one morning.’

  ‘Nasty woman!’ the general muttered through clenched teeth.

  ‘Dear Avdotya Ignatyevna,’ the shopkeeper cried out again suddenly, ‘my dear lady, tell me, and don’t hold it against me, am I in the torments12 now, or is something else happening?’

  ‘Ah, he’s back on the same thing again; I had a feeling he would be, because there’s a smell coming from him, a smell from his tossing and turning.’

  ‘I’m not tossing and turning, ma’am, and there’s no particular smell coming from me, because I’ve still managed to preserve my body whole, while you, my lady, have really started to go bad – because the smell indeed is unbearable, even for this place. I’ve kept quiet merely out of politeness.’

  ‘Ah, you and your nasty insults! He’s the one who reeks, and he blames me.’

  ‘Oh-ho-ho-ho! If only these forty days would pass: I’d hear tearful voices above me, my wife wailing and the children softly weeping! …’

  ‘Well, what a thing to weep about: they’ll stuff themselves with kutya13 and leave. Ah, if only somebody would wake up!’

  ‘Avdotya Ignatyevna,’ the smooth-tongued official spoke up, ‘wait a little bit, the new ones will start talking.’

  ‘And are there any young people among them?’

  ‘Young people as well, Avdotya Ignatyevna. There are even some young men.’

  ‘Ah, just what we need!’

  ‘What, haven’t they begun yet?’ His Excellency enquired.

  ‘Even the ones from the day before yesterday haven’t woken up yet, Your Excellency, you yourself know that sometimes they’re quiet for a week. It’s a good thing that yesterday and the day before and today they brought a whole lot all at once. Otherwise, you see, they’re all from last year for seventy feet around.’

  ‘Yes, that should be interesting.’

  ‘Now, Your Excellency, today they buried Tarasevich, the actual privy councillor. I recognized the voices. I know his nephew who helped lower the coffin just now.’

  ‘Hm, whereabout is he then?’

  ‘About five paces away from you, Your Excellency, to the left. He’s almost at your feet, sir … There’s somebody you should get acquainted with, Your Excellency.’

  ‘Hm, no … I shouldn’t be the first to make a move.’

  ‘But he’ll do that, Your Excellency. He’ll even be flattered; leave it to me, Your Excellency, and I’ll …’

  ‘Ah, ah … Ah, what’s happening to me?’ somebody’s frightened, new little voice suddenly wheezed.

  ‘It’s a new one, Your Excellency, a new one, thank God, and so soon! Sometimes they’re silent for a whole week.’

  ‘Ah, I believe it’s a young man!’ Avdotya Ignatyevna cried out.

  ‘I … I … I … from complications, and so suddenly!’ the youth began to babble again. ‘Just the day before Schultz tells me: “You have complications,” he says, and suddenly I up and die by the morning. Ah! Ah!’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing to be done, young man,’ observed the general kindly, evidently delighted by the novice. ‘You must console yourself. Welcome to our Vale of Jehoshaphat,14 so to speak. We’re good people, you’ll get to know us and appreciate us. Major General Vasily Vasilyev Pervoyedov, at your service.’

  ‘Ah, no! No, no, absolutely not, sir! I went to Schultz; you see, I had complications, first in my chest and then a cough, and later I caught cold: the chest and the flu … and then suddenly quite unexpectedly … that’s the main thing, it was quite unexpected.’

  ‘You say that it started in the chest,’ the official gently interjected, as if wishing to encourage the novice.

  ‘Yes, the chest and phlegm, but then suddenly the phlegm and chest were gone, and I couldn’t breathe … and you know …’

  ‘I know, I know. But if it was the chest, you should have gone to Ecke, not to Schultz.’

  ‘But, you know, I kept meaning to go to Botkin15 … and suddenly …’

  ‘Well, but Botkin’s unreasonable,’ the general observed.

  ‘Ah, no, he’s not at all unreasonable; I’ve heard that he’s so attentive and will tell you everything in advance.’

  ‘His Excellency was referring to the price,’ the official set him straight.

  ‘Ah, not at all, just three roubles, and he examines you so well, and you get a prescription … and I definitely wanted to, because I was told … So then, gentlemen, should I go see Ecke or Botkin?’

  ‘What? See whom?’ the general’s corpse began to rock with pleasant laughter. The official followed suit in falsetto.

  ‘Dear boy, dear, delightful boy, how I love you!’ Avdotya Ignatyevna cried out, beside herself. ‘Now if only they’d put one like you next to me!’

  No, I simply cannot countenance that! And this is the dead of today! However, I should listen some more and not jump to conclusions. This whimpering novice – I remember seeing him in his coffin earlier – wore the expression of a frightened chicken, the most revolting thing in the whole world! However, what’s next?

  But what came next was such a muddled affair that I didn’t manage to retain all of it in my memory, for a great many of them woke up all at once: an official woke up, a state councillor, and he began immediately discussing with the general the project of a new subcommittee in the Department of — Affairs and in connection with this about the probable transfer of public servants, all of which the general found very, very entertaining. I confess that I also learned a lot that was new, so much so that I marvelled at the ways by which it is sometimes possible to come by government news in this capital. Then an engineer half woke up, but for a long time afterwards muttered such absolute nonsense that our friends didn’t bother him, but instead let him rest. Finally, the noble lady who had been buried under the catafalque that morning showed signs of sepulchral animation. Lebezyatnikov16 (for the ingratiating court councillor whom I detested turned out to be named Lebezyatnikov) was surprised and made a great deal of fuss that they were all waking up so soon this time. I confess, I was surprised as well; however, some of those who woke up had been buried the day before yesterday, for example, a very young girl, about sixteen years old, but who was all giggles … disgusting and lustful giggles.

  ‘Your Excellency, Privy Counsellor Tarasevich is waking up!’ Lebezyatnikov suddenly announced with extraordinary urgency.

  ‘Eh? What’s that?’ the suddenly awakened privy councillor mumbled demandingly in a lisping voice. His voice sounded both capricious and imperious. I listened with curiosity, for during these past few days I had heard something about this Tarasevich – something highly suggestive and alarming.

  ‘It’s me, Your Excellency, sir, so far it’s only me, sir.’

  ‘What do you want and how can I help you?’

  ‘Merely to enquire after Your Excellency’s health; not being accustomed to the circumstances here, sir, everybody at first feels rather cramped, as it were … General Pervoyedov would like to have the honour of making Your Excellency’s acquaintance and wishes …’

  ‘Never heard of him.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Your Excellency, General Pervoyedov, Vasily Vasilyevich …’

  ‘Are you General Pervoyedov?’

  ‘No, Your Excellency, I am merely Court Councillor Lebezyatnikov, sir, at your service, but General Pervoyedov …’

  ‘Nonsense! And I’ll ask you to leave me in peace.’

  ‘Let him be,’ General Pervoyedov himself, with a dignified air, finally put a stop to the vile haste of his sepulchral attendant.

  ‘He’s not fully awake yet, Your Excellency, you need to take that into consideration, sir; it’s on account that he’s not accustomed, sir: he’ll wake up and then he’ll take it differently, sir …’

  ‘Let him be,’ the general repeated.

  ‘Vasily Vasilyevich! Hey you, Your Excellency!’ an entirely new voice suddenly cried out loudly and excitedly, right next to Avdotya Ignatyevna. It was the impertinent voice of a gentleman with a fashionably we
ary mode of expression and impudent delivery. ‘I’ve been observing all of you for two hours now; I’ve been lying here three days now; do you remember me, Vasily Vasilyevich? Klinevich, we used to meet at the Volokonskys, where, I don’t know why, you were also received.’

  ‘What, Count Pyotr Petrovich … is that really you? … and at such a young age … I am so sorry!’

  ‘And I’m sorry myself, but it’s really all the same to me, and I want to get as much as possible from every quarter here. And it’s not Count, but Baron, I’m merely a baron. We’re some sort of mangy little barons, our people were lackeys, and I don’t know why – to hell with it! I’m merely a scoundrel from pseudo-high society and thought to be a charming polisson. My father was some sort of little general, and my mother was once received en haut lieu.17 Zieffel the Yid18 and I passed off 50,000 roubles in counterfeit banknotes, and I informed against him, but Yulka Charpentier de Lusignan carried off all the money with her to Bordeaux. And, just imagine, my engagement had already been announced – to Shchevalevskaya, just three months shy of sixteen, still in school, with a dowry of 90,000. Avdotya Ignatyevna, do you remember how you corrupted me, fifteen years ago, when I was still a fourteen-year-old page? …’

  ‘Ah, so it’s you, you scoundrel; well, at least God sent you, because otherwise here it’s …’

  ‘You were wrong to suspect your merchant neighbour of smelling bad … I just kept quiet and laughed. You see, it’s me; they buried me in a nailed coffin.’

  ‘Ugh, you’re disgusting! But I’m glad all the same; you wouldn’t believe, Klinevich, you wouldn’t believe how scarce life and wit are here.’

  ‘Yes, I know, yes, I know, and I’m determined to get something original going here. Your Excellency – not you, Pervoyedov – the other one, Mr Tarasevich, the privy councillor! Answer me! It’s Klinevich, I’m the one who took you to see Mlle Furie during Lent. Can you hear me?’