XXXI
A Colloquy with the Sapient Reader, and His Banishment
“Now tell me, O sapient reader, why Rakhmétof was introduced, who has now vanished, and will not appear again in my story? I have already told thee that this figure has no part in my story—”
“That is not true,” says the sapient reader, interrupting me. “Rakhmétof is an important character, for he brought a note from which—”
“Thou art very poor, my dear sir, in aesthetical judgments, of which thou art so fond,” say I, interrupting him in my turn. “At this rate, according to your opinion, then Masha, also, is an important character, is she not? At the very beginning of the story, she, also, brought a letter, which startled Viéra Pavlovna. And is Rachel also an important character? for she advanced the money, without which Viéra Pavlovna would not have been able to leave. And is Professor N. an important character, because he recommended Viéra Pavlovna to Mrs. B., without which there would not have been any scene on returning from the Konno-Gvardéïsky Boulevard? Possibly the Konno-Gvardéïsky Boulevard is an active character also. How is it? Because without it there wouldn’t have been any stage for the interview while returning from it. And the Gorokhovaïa Street would certainly be the most important main character, because without it there would be no houses standing on it, and so Storeshnikof’s house would not be there; consequently there would be no manager of it, and the manager would not have any daughter, and then there would be no story at all. Well [nu], let us grant that, according to your opinion, all of these are active characters—the Konno-Gvardéïsky Boulevard, and Masha, and Rachel, and the Gorokhovaïa Street. But only half a dozen words are said about them, or even less, because their action is of such a nature that they are not worth more than half a dozen words; but see how many pages have been given to Rakhmétof.”
“Ah! now I know,” says the sapient reader; “Rakhmétof was introduced for the sake of pronouncing the sentence on Viéra Pavlovna and Lopukhóf. He was necessary for the talk with Viéra Pavlovna.”
“O how dull you are, my dear sir! You are quite wrong in your judgment. Was it necessary to introduce an extraordinary man just for the purpose of telling his opinion about other people? For such necessities, maybe, your great artists may introduce people into their works and take them away again; but I, though I am a wretched writer, still somewhat better understand the conditions of the artistic. No; my dear sir; Rakhmétof is not at all necessary for this purpose. How many times have not Viéra Pavlovna, Lopukhóf, and Kirsánof by themselves expressed the opinion about their actions and relations? They are not stupid people; they are able to judge for themselves what is good and what is bad, and therefore for this do not need a prompter. Do you really think that Viéra Pavlovna herself, when at leisure after a few days, would remember the past confusion and not condemn her forgetfulness about the interests of the shop just as Rakhmétof had done? And don’t you think that Lopukhóf himself thought about his relations in exactly the same way as Rakhmétof told Viéra Pavlovna? He had thought it all over. Honorable people themselves think about themselves, all that can be said to their discredit, and so, my dear sir, these are honorable people; didn’t you know it? You are very ignorant, my dear sir, in regard to what honorable people think about themselves. I shall tell you further. Do you really suppose that Rakhmétof, in this conversation with Viéra Pavlovna, acted independently of Lopukhóf? No, my dear sir; he was only a tool for Lopukhóf, and he himself understood that he was only Lopukhóf’s tool, and Viéra Pavlovna understood it also in a day or two, and she would have guessed it the very moment that Rakhmétof opened his mouth had she not been too much excited; that was really the state of things. Did not you really understand it? Of course Lopukhóf, in his second note, said, very truly, that he had not spoken a word to Rakhmétof, nor Rakhmétof to him, in regard to the character of the conversation to take place between Viéra Pavlovna and Rakhmétof. But Lopukhóf knew Rakhmétof very well and what Rakhmétof thinks about a certain matter and what Rakhmétof would say in regard to this certain matter, for honorable people understand each other without having any explanation beforehand. Lopukhóf might have written down beforehand almost every word that Rakhmétof was going to say to Viéra Pavlovna, and therefore that was the very reason that he asked Rakhmétof to be the mediator. Shall I not introduce you a little deeper into psychological mysteries? Lopukhóf very well knew everything which Rakhmétof, and he himself thought about himself, and what Mertsálof thought, and what Mrs. Mertsálova thought, and what the officer who wrestled with him at the picnic on the islands thought, and what Viéra Pavlovna would come to think about him, even if no one had told her about it. She would have quickly seen it as soon as the first access of gratefulness had passed; consequently, Lopukhóf calculated: ‘I shall lose nothing by sending Rakhmétof to her, though he will blame me; for she herself would surely come to have just the same opinion of me. On the contrary, I shall rise in her estimation, for she will soon come to see that I foresaw Rakhmétof’s conversation with her, and that I arranged for this conversation and why I arranged it, and so she will think: “What a splendid fellow he is! He knew that in the first days of my excitement, my gratefulness towards him would overwhelm me with its exaltations, and he took care that in my mind should enter as soon as possible thoughts which would make my trial easier for me; and though I was angry at Rakhmétof for his blaming him, yet I understood that in reality Rakhmétof spoke the truth. I myself should have come to that idea in a week; but by that time it would not be important to me, for I should have found peace without it, and for the reason that these thoughts were expressed to me the very first day I got rid of my mental burden, which I should otherwise have borne a whole week. That day these thoughts were very important for me and useful for me. Yes, he was a very noble man.” ’
“This was a game that Lopukhóf arranged, and Rakhmétof was only his tool. Do you see, my dear sir? O sapient reader, how cunning these noble people are, and how egotism plays with them. Not as with you, my dear sir; because they find satisfaction, not as you do, my dear sir. They, as you see, find their highest satisfaction in having the people whom they respect think about them as noble people, and for this reason, my dear sir, they took trouble to play all kinds of games, not less energetically than you do for your own private ends; but your aims are different, and therefore the games that you and they bring about are not of the same character. You think of mean things which are injurious for others, but they think of those which are advantageous for others.”
“Now, how do you dare to treat me in such a way?” exclaims the sapient reader, addressing me. “I shall bring a lawsuit against you for this; I shall proclaim you an unreliable man.”
“Have mercy, my dear sir,” I reply; “I dare to tell you such things because I have such lofty respect for your character as well as for your brains. And I only have the audacity to enlighten you in regard to the artistic, of which you are so fond. You are mistaken in regard to this, my dear sir, in supposing that Rakhmétof was introduced purposely for announcing the sentence upon Viéra Pavlovna and Lopukhóf. There was no such necessity in the thoughts which you expressed about them. There is nothing of the kind which I could not have imparted to you, my dear sir, as the thoughts of Lopukhóf in regard to himself, and as thoughts which, without Rakhmétof, Viéra Pavlovna herself would have had about Lopukhóf. Now, my dear sir, here is a question for you, Why do I relate to you this conversation between Rakhmétof and Viéra Pavlovna? Do you understand now that if I am imparting to you, not the thoughts of Lopukhóf and his Viéra Pavlovna, but the conversation between Rakhmétof and Viéra Pavlovna, then why it was necessary to impart not only these thoughts, which constituted the essence of their conversation, but the conversation itself? Why was it necessary to impart to you this conversation? Because it was a conversation between Rakhmétof and Viéra Pavlovna. Do you understand now? Not yet? You’re a fine fellow! You are bad as far as understanding goes, very bad. Nu! I am going to chew it for you. When two people speak, then from the conversation can be gathered, to a greater or less degree, the character of these two people. Now, do you see where this is leading you? Was Viéra Pavlovna’s character sufficiently known to you before this conversation took place? It was; you have learned nothing new about her; you knew already that she was hot-tempered, that she was fond of jesting, that she never failed to eat with appetite, and could even drink a glass of sherry; consequently, the conversation was not needed to characterize Viéra Pavlovna: but whom then? There are two who speak—she and Rakhmétof. It is not to characterize her; guess, then, who is it.”
“Rakhmétof!” exclaims the sapient reader.
“Well, you are a fine fellow, and I like you for it. So you see that it is entirely contrary to what you thought before. Rakhmétof was not introduced for the sake of carrying on the conversation, but the conversation was imparted to you for the sake of making you better acquainted with Rakhmétof. From this conversation you saw that Rakhmétof would like to drink sherry, though he does not take it. That Rakhmétof is not an absolutely gloomy monster, that, on the contrary, on pleasant occasions, he forgets his sorrowful humors, his burning grief, that then he jokes, and talks gayly, although he says it is very rarely that ‘I do it,’ and he says, that ‘is bitter to me that I do it so rarely’; he says, ‘I, myself, am not glad that I am such a gloomy monster, but my circumstances are such that a man, with such a burning love for the good, cannot help being a gloomy monster’; ‘And if it were not for this,’ he says, ‘I should probably joke, and laugh, and sing, and leap, all day.’
“Have you understood, now, sapient reader, that although a good many pages have been devoted to the fair description of the sort of man that Rakhmétof was, yet, in reality, still more pages have been devoted exclusively for the same purpose of making you acquainted with the very same person, who is not at all an active character in my novel? Tell me now, why this figure was brought out and introduced, and so minutely described? Do you remember I said then, ‘It is exclusively for satisfying the main demand of the artistic’? Think! how does it seem, and how is it satisfied by placing before you Rakhmétof’s figure? Was it hard for you? Have you succeeded in finding out? and yet, how could you? Well, listen, or rather, don’t listen; you will not understand it. Leave me alone; I have amused myself enough at your expense. I am going to speak now not to you, but the public and I am going to speak seriously.
“The first demand of the artistic is this: it is necessary so to picture things that the reader may see them in their true light. For example, if I want to draw a picture of a house, then I must reach that excellence of drawing that it may look to the reader as a house only, not as a little hut or as a palace. If I want to picture an ordinary man, then I must be able to draw him in such a way that he will not appear to the reader either as a dwarf or as a giant.
“I wanted to picture ordinary decent people of the rising generation, people whom I meet by the hundreds; I took three such people, Viéra Pavlovna, Lopukhóf, and Kirsánof. I look upon them as ordinary people; they look upon themselves in the same way, and all their acquaintances and friends, who are also such people as they are, look upon them in the same way. Where have I spoken about them in any other spirit? What have I said about them that contradicted this? I introduced them with love and respect, because every honorable man is worthy of love and respect; but where have I bowed on my knees before them? Where does the least shadow of a thought show itself in my novel that they are God-knows-how high and beautiful characters, that I can imagine nothing higher and better than they are? that they are ideals of people? As I think of them, so they act for me; not more than ordinary honorable people of the rising generation. What do they do that is wonderful? They don’t do any mean things; they are not cowards; they have ordinary honest convictions; they try to act in accordance with them, and that’s all. What a heroism in reality! Yes, I wanted to represent people who act like ordinary people of their type, and I hope that I have succeeded in so doing. Those readers who accurately know live people of this type, I hope, have constantly seen, from the very first, that the main heroes of my story are not at all ideals, but are people not at all higher than the general level of people of their own type; that every one of my readers who belongs to their type has undergone two or three occurrences, in which he has acted not worse than my characters have acted. Let us suppose that other honorable people have had exactly such experiences as I have related. In this there is absolutely no going to extremes, and the idea that all wives and husbands should part is not presented as a charming ideal; for not every honorable woman feels a passionate love for her husband’s best friend, and not every honorable man wrestles with passion for a married woman, and for three years at that; and moreover, not everybody is driven to commit suicide on the bridge, or to use the words of the sapient reader, to go away somewhere from that hotel. But no honorable man would consider it a heroic deed to act in the situation of those here described, exactly as they acted, but all would be ready to do, if there were any necessity for doing it, and many a time they have acted in situations not less, but probably more, difficult, but still have not looked upon themselves as extraordinary people, but each has said to himself, ‘I am a commonplace man, a pretty honorable man, that’s all there is of it.’ And the good friends of such a man (all such good people as he himself is—for with others he has nothing to do in the way of friendship) also think in regard to him that he is a fine man, but they do not think of falling on their knees before him, but they say to themselves, ‘We are just such people as he is.’ I hope I have succeeded in reaching this point that every honorable man of the rising generation will recognize an ordinary type of his good acquaintances in my three principal characters.
“But these people, who from the very first beginning of my story will think about my Viéra Pavlovna, Kirsánof, and Lopukhóf, ‘Well, now [nu da], these are my good acquaintances, simple, ordinary people, like ourselves’; people who think so, I say, about my three leading characters, constitute the minority of the public. The majority is a great deal lower than this type. A man who never saw anything but little huts, would take an ordinary house drawn upon a piece of paper to be a palace. How can you go to work with such a person to show him that it is a house and not a palace? It is necessary on the same paper to draw at least a small corner of a palace; by this corner he will see that the palace must be something of quite different proportions from the structure which was represented on the paper, and that this structure must be only a simple, ordinary house, in which, or even in better ones, everyone ought to live. Had I not shown Rakhmétof’s figure, the majority of my readers would have lost their senses of proportion in regard to the main characters of my story. I will wager that till the last part of this chapter, Viéra Pavlovna, Kirsánof, and Lopukhóf have seemed to the majority of the public as heroes, as persons of the highest nature, as even persons idealized, maybe, people such as it is not possible to find in real life, on account of their too grand nobility. No, my friends, my mean, bad, pitiful friends, it did not appear to you in the right way. It is not they that stand so high, but you that stand so low. Now you see that they are standing on the earth. If they appear to you flying in the clouds, it is because you are sitting in the bottom of a den; on the height upon which they stand all people can stand, and must. The highest natures, which you and I cannot attain, my pitiable friends, are different. I have shown you a slight sketch of the profile of one of them; you see very different features. But those people who are completely described, you can reach unto, if you want to work over your self-development. Whoever is lower than they are is low. Lift yourselves up, my friends; lift yourselves up! It is not very hard. Go out into the free, white world! It is good to live in it, and the path is easy and inviting. Try it; culture! culture! Observe, think, read the works of those who tell you about the pure enjoyments of life, about the fact that a man can be kind and happy! Read them; they are books which fill the heart with joy. Observe life; for it is interesting to observe. Think; for it is delightful to think. That is all. No sacrifices are required; no deprivations are asked; they are not necessary. Desire to be happy! that is all; only this desire is wanted. And for this sake with delight watch over your development; there is happiness in it. Oh, what an enjoyment there is for a fully developed man! Even that which another may look upon as a sacrifice, as a sorrow, he feels to be a satisfaction to himself, an enjoyment; and how open his heart is to happiness, and how many enjoyments he has! Try it; it is good.”