And Raskolnikov went straight to the house on the ditch where Sonya lived. The house was three stories high, old and green. He found the janitor and received from him vague instructions where the Capernaum tailor lived. Having found the entrance to a narrow and dark staircase in the corner of the courtyard, he finally climbed to the second floor and came out onto the gallery that ran around it from the side of the courtyard. While he was wandering in the dark and perplexed as to where the entrance to Kapernaumov could be, suddenly, three steps from him, a door opened; he grabbed it mechanically.
Who's there? a female voice asked anxiously.
“It’s me... to you,” Raskolnikov answered and entered the tiny hallway. Here, on a sagging chair, in a twisted copper candlestick, stood a candle.
It's you! God! Sonya cried out weakly and stood rooted to the spot.
Where to you? Here?
And Raskolnikov, trying not to look at her, quickly walked into the room.
A minute later Sonya came in with a candle, put the candle down and stood in front of him, completely at a loss, all in inexpressible excitement and, apparently, frightened by his unexpected visit. Suddenly color rushed to her pale face, and even tears appeared in her eyes... She felt sick, ashamed, and sweet... Raskolnikov quickly turned away and sat down on a chair at the table. He briefly glanced around the room.
It was a large room, but extremely low, the only one receding from the Kapernaumovs, the locked door to which was in the wall to the left. On the opposite side, in the wall to the right, there was another door, always tightly locked. There was already another, neighboring apartment, with a different number. Sonya’s room looked like a barn, had the appearance of a very irregular quadrangle, and this gave it something ugly. A wall with three windows, overlooking a ditch, cut the room somehow at an angle, causing one corner, terribly sharp, to run away somewhere deeper, so that, in the dim light, it was impossible to even see it well; the other angle was already too outrageously obtuse. In all this big room there was almost no furniture at all. In the corner, to the right, there was a bed; next to her, closer to the door, is a chair. Along the same wall where the bed was, right next to the door to someone else’s apartment, stood a simple plank table covered with a blue tablecloth; There are two wicker chairs near the table. Then, at the opposite wall, close to acute angle, stood small, simple tree a chest of drawers, as if lost in the void. That's all that was in the room. The yellowish, scrubbed and worn-out wallpaper turned black in all corners; It must have been damp and fumes here in the winter. Poverty was visible; Even the bed didn't have curtains.
Sonya silently looked at her guest, who was so carefully and unceremoniously examining her room, and even finally began to tremble in fear, as if she was standing before the judge and decider of her fate.
I'm late... Is it eleven o'clock? he asked, still not raising his eyes to her.
“Yes,” Sonya muttered. Oh yes, there is! she suddenly hurried, as if this was the whole outcome for her, now the owners’ clock has struck... and I myself heard... Yes.
“I came to you for the last time,” Raskolnikov continued gloomily, although now it was only the first time, “I may not see you again... Are you... coming? I don’t know... everything will be tomorrow...
So you won’t be at Katerina Ivanovna’s tomorrow? Sonya’s voice trembled.
I don't know. All tomorrow morning... That’s not the point: I came to say one word...
He raised his thoughtful gaze to her and suddenly noticed that he was sitting, and she was still standing in front of him.
Why are you standing there? “Sit down,” he said in a suddenly changed, quiet and gentle voice.
She sat down. He looked at her affably and almost compassionately for a minute.
How skinny you are! Look what a hand you have! Completely transparent. Fingers like those of a dead person.
He took her hand. Sonya smiled faintly.
“I have always been like this,” she said.
When did you live at home? Yes. Well, yes, of course! He said abruptly, and the expression on his face and the sound of his voice suddenly changed again. He looked around again.
Are you hiring from Kapernaumov? Yes, sir... Are they there, outside the door?
Yes... They also have the same room. All in one? In one, s. “I would be afraid in your room at night,” he remarked gloomily.
“The owners are very good, very affectionate,” answered Sonya, still as if not coming to her senses and not realizing, “and all the furniture, and everything... everything that belongs to the owner.” And they are very kind, and the children often come to see me too...
Are they tongue-tied?
Yes, sir... He stutters and so does chrome. And the wife too... It’s not just that she stutters, but that she doesn’t seem to be able to pronounce everything. She's kind, very kind. And he is a former yard man. And there are seven children... and only the eldest one stutters, and the others are just sick... but don’t stutter... How do you know about them? she added with some surprise.
Your father told me everything then. He told me everything about you... And about how you left at six o’clock and came back at nine o’clock, and about how Katerina Ivanovna knelt at your bedside. Sonya was embarrassed. “I definitely saw him today,” she whispered hesitantly. Who? Father. I was walking down the street, nearby, on the corner, at ten o’clock, and he seemed to be walking ahead. And it’s exactly like him. I really wanted to go see Katerina Ivanovna... Have you been walking? “Yes,” Sonya whispered abruptly, again embarrassed and looking down.
Katerina Ivanovna almost beat you, didn’t she?
Oh no, what are you, what are you, no! Sonya looked at him with some kind of fear.
So you love her?
Her? Yes, yes! Sonya drawled pitifully and suddenly folded her hands with suffering. Ah! you her... If only you knew. After all, she is just like a child... After all, her mind is completely crazy... from grief. And how smart she was... how generous... how kind! You know nothing, nothing... ah!
Sonya said this as if in despair, worried and suffering, and wringing her hands. Her pale cheeks flushed again, and anguish was expressed in her eyes. It was clear that she had been touched terribly, that she terribly wanted to express something, to say something, to intercede. some insatiable compassion, so to speak, suddenly appeared in all the features of her face.
Bila! What are you talking about! Lord, it hit me! And even if she beat me, so what! So what? You know nothing, nothing... She’s so unhappy, oh, so unhappy! And she’s sick... She’s looking for justice... She’s clean. She believes so much that there must be justice in everything, and she demands... And even if you torture her, she will not do anything unfair. She herself doesn’t notice how it’s impossible for all this to be fair in people, and she gets irritated... Like a child, like a child! She is fair, fair!
What will happen to you?
Sonya looked questioningly.
They remained with you. True, it was all on you before, and the dead man came to you to ask for a hangover. Well, now what will happen?
“I don’t know,” Sonya said sadly.
Will they stay there?
I don’t know, they should be in that apartment; only the hostess was heard to say today that she wanted to refuse, and Katerina Ivanovna said that she herself wouldn’t stay a minute.
Why is she so brave? Is he relying on you?
“Oh no, don’t say that!.. We are one, we live together,” Sonya suddenly became agitated again and even got irritated, just as if a canary or some other small bird was angry. Yes, and what should she do? Well, how can it be? she asked, hot and worried. And how much, how much she cried today! Her mind is in a mess, haven't you noticed? Gets in the way; sometimes she worries, like a little girl, that everything will be decent tomorrow, there will be snacks and everything... then she wrings her hands, coughs up blood, cries, and suddenly starts banging her head against the wall, as if in despair. And then she will be consoled again, she keeps relying on you: she says that you are now her assistant and that she will borrow a little money somewhere and go to her city, with me, and will start a boarding school for noble maidens, and will take me as a matron, and the beginning will begin. we have a completely new one, wonderful Life, and kisses me, hugs me, consoles me, and he believes so! He really believes in fantasies! Well, is it possible to contradict her? And all day today she has been washing, cleaning, repairing, she herself, with her weak strength, dragged the trough into the room, out of breath, and fell on the bed; and then we went to the ranks with her in the morning, to buy shoes for Polechka and Lena, because they all fell apart, only we didn’t have enough money according to the calculation, we were missing a lot, but she chose such cute little shoes, because she has taste , you don’t know... Right there in the shop I started crying, in front of the merchants, for something that was missing... Oh, what a pity it was to watch.
Well, it’s understandable after the fact that you... live like this, Raskolnikov said with a bitter smile.
Don’t you feel sorry? No pity? Sonya jumped up again, because you, I know, you yourself gave away your last, without seeing anything yet. And if you could see everything, oh my God! And how many, how many times did I make her cry! Yes, just last week! Oh me! Just a week before his death. I acted cruelly! And how many, how many times have I done this? Oh, how painful it was to remember all day now!
Sonya even wrung her hands while talking, from the pain of remembering.
Are you the cruel one?
Yes, I, I! “I came then,” she continued, crying, “and the dead man said: “read it to me,” he says, Sonya, I have a headache, read it to me... here’s a book,” “some kind of book he has, Andrey has I got Semenych from Lebezyatnikov, he lives here, he kept getting such funny books. And I said: “It’s time for me to go,” I didn’t want to read it, but I went to them, the main thing was to show the collars to Katerina Ivanovna; Lizaveta, a merchant, brought me cheap collars and armlets, pretty, new and with a pattern. And Katerina Ivanovna really liked it, she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, and she really, really liked it: “Give it to me,” she said, “Sonya, please.” Please She asked, and she really wanted it. And where should she wear it? So: the old, happy time was just remembered! She looks at herself in the mirror, admires it, and she doesn’t have any dresses, any things, for so many years! And she will never ask anyone for anything; proud, she would rather give away the last, but here she asked, she liked it so much! And I regretted giving it away, “what do you need, I say, Katerina Ivanovna?” So she said, “what for?” There’s no need to tell her that! She looked at me like that, and it felt so hard for her that I refused, and it was so pathetic to watch... And it wasn’t because of the collars that it was hard, but because I refused, I saw. Oh, so it seems that now I’ve turned everything back, changed everything, all those old words... Oh, I... so what!.. you don’t care!
Did you know this merchant Lizaveta?
Yes... Did you know? Sonya asked again with some surprise.
Katerina Ivanovna is in consumption, angry; “she will die soon,” said Raskolnikov, after a pause and without answering the question.
Oh, no, no, no! And Sonya, with an unconscious gesture, grabbed him by both hands, as if begging him not to.
But it’s better if he dies.
No, not better, not better, not better at all! she repeated fearfully and unconsciously.
What about the children? Where will you take them then, if not to you?
Oh, I don’t know! Sonya screamed almost in despair and grabbed her head. It was clear that this thought had flashed through her many, many times, and he only scared the thought away again.
Well, if you, while still under Katerina Ivanovna, now get sick and they take you to the hospital, what will happen then? he insisted mercilessly.
Oh, what are you, what are you! This cannot be true! and Sonya’s face contorted with terrible fear.
How can it not be? Raskolnikov continued with a cruel grin, “You’re not insured, are you?” Then what will become of them? The whole crowd will go out into the street, she will cough and beg, and bang her head on a wall somewhere, like today, and the children will cry... And then she will fall, they will take her to the unit, to the hospital, she will die, and the children...
Oh, no!.. God will not allow this! finally escaped from Sonya’s constricted chest. She listened, looking at him pleadingly and folding her hands in a silent request, as if everything depended on him.
Raskolnikov stood up and began to walk around the room. A minute passed. Sonya stood with her hands and head down, in terrible anguish.
Can’t you save? Saving for a rainy day? he asked, suddenly stopping in front of her.
“No,” Sonya whispered.
Of course not! Have you tried it? “he added almost mockingly. Tried it. And it went wrong! Well, of course! Why ask!
And again he walked around the room. Another minute passed.
Don’t you get something every day?
Sonya was more embarrassed than ever, and the color hit her face again.
“No,” she whispered with painful effort.
“The same thing will probably happen with Polechka,” he said suddenly.
No! No! It can't be, no! Sonya screamed loudly, desperately, as if she had suddenly been wounded with a knife. God, God will not allow such horror!..
He admits others.
No, no! God will protect her, God!.. she repeated, not remembering herself.
“Yes, maybe there is no God at all,” Raskolnikov answered with some kind of gloating, laughed and looked at her.
Sonya's face suddenly changed terribly: convulsions ran through it. She looked at him with inexpressible reproach, wanted to say something, but could not say anything and only suddenly began to sob bitterly, covering her face with her hands.
You say Katerina Ivanovna’s mind is confused; “Your mind is getting in the way,” he said after some silence.
Five minutes passed. He kept walking back and forth, silently and without looking at her. Finally he approached her; his eyes sparkled. He took her shoulders with both hands and looked straight into her crying face. His gaze was dry, inflamed, sharp, his lips trembled violently... Suddenly he quickly bent over and, crouching to the floor, kissed her foot. Sonya recoiled from him in horror, as if from a madman. And indeed, he looked like he was completely crazy.
What are you, what are you? In front of me! “She muttered, turning pale, and her heart suddenly sank painfully.
He immediately stood up.
“I didn’t bow to you, I bowed to all human suffering,” he said somehow wildly and walked away to the window. “Listen,” he added, returning to her a minute later, “I just told one offender that he is not worth one of your little fingers... and that I did my sister an honor today by sitting her next to you.
Oh, that you told them that! And with her? Sonya screamed in fear, sit with me! Honor! Why, I’m... dishonest... I’m a great, great sinner! Oh, that you said that!
I did not say this about you because of dishonor and sin, but because of your great suffering. “And that you are a great sinner, that’s true,” he added almost enthusiastically, “and most of all, you are a sinner because in vain killed and betrayed herself. This wouldn't be terrible! It wouldn’t be terrible that you live in this filth, which you hate so much, and at the same time you know yourself (you just have to open your eyes) that you are not helping anyone and are not saving anyone from anything! “Tell me finally,” he said, almost in a frenzy, “how such shame and such baseness are combined in you next to other opposite and holy feelings? After all, it would be fairer, a thousand times fairer and more reasonable, to dive straight into the water and end it all at once!
What will happen to them? Sonya asked weakly, looking at him painfully, but at the same time, as if not at all surprised by his proposal. Raskolnikov looked at her strangely.
He read everything in one look from her. Therefore, she really had already had this thought herself. Perhaps many times she seriously thought in despair about how to end it all at once, and so seriously that now she was almost not surprised at his proposal. She didn’t even notice the cruelty of his words (she, of course, also didn’t notice the meaning of his reproaches and his special look at her shame, and this was visible to him). But he fully understood the monstrous pain to which she had been tormented, and for a long time now, by the thought of her dishonorable and shameful position. What could, he thought, still stop her determination to end it all at once? And only then did he fully understand what these poor little orphans and this pitiful, half-crazed Katerina Ivanovna, with her consumption and banging her head against the wall, meant to her.
But nevertheless, it was again clear to him that Sonya, with her character and with the development that she had received, could not remain like that under any circumstances. Still, the question arose for him: why was she able to remain in this position for too long and not go crazy, if she was already unable to throw herself into the water? Of course, he understood that Sonya’s position was a random phenomenon in society, although, unfortunately, it was far from isolated and not exceptional. But this very accident, this certain development and her entire previous life could, it seems, immediately kill her at the first step on this disgusting road. What kept her going? Isn't it debauchery? After all, this shame obviously affected her only mechanically; real depravity had not yet penetrated a single drop into her heart: he saw it; she stood before him in reality...
“She has three paths,” he thought: “to throw herself into a ditch, end up in a madhouse, or... or, finally, to throw herself into debauchery, which stupefies the mind and petrifies the heart.” The last thought was most disgusting to him; but he was already a skeptic, he was young, abstract and, therefore, cruel, and therefore could not help but believe that the last solution, that is, debauchery, was most likely.
“But is it really true,” he exclaimed to himself, “is it really possible that this creature, who still retains the purity of spirit, will finally be consciously drawn into this vile, stinking pit? Has this pulling in already begun, and is it really only because she could endure it until now that the vice no longer seems so disgusting to her? No, no, that can’t be! he exclaimed, like Sonya earlier, no, the thought of sin has kept her from the ditch until now, and they, those... If she hasn’t gone crazy yet... But who said that she hasn’t already gone crazy? Is she sane? Is it possible to speak like her? Is it possible in a sane mind to reason like she does? Is it really possible to sit above death, right above the stinking pit into which she is already being drawn, and wave her arms and cover her ears when they tell her about danger? What, is she waiting for a miracle? And probably so. Aren’t all these signs of insanity?”
He stubbornly settled on this thought. He liked this outcome even more than any other. He began to peer at her more closely.
So you really pray to God, Sonya? he asked her.
Sonya was silent, he stood next to her and waited for an answer.
What would I be without God? “She whispered quickly, energetically, glancing up at him with suddenly sparkling eyes, and tightly squeezed his hand with her hand.
“Well, it is!” he thought.
What is God doing to you for this? he asked, inquiring further.
Sonya was silent for a long time, as if she could not answer. Her weak chest was swaying with excitement.
Be silent! Don't ask! You’re not standing!.. she suddenly screamed, looking at him sternly and angrily.
"This is true! this is true!" he repeated persistently to himself.
Does everything! “She whispered quickly, looking down again.
“Here is the outcome! This is the explanation of the outcome!” he decided to himself, examining her with greedy curiosity.
With a new, strange, almost painful feeling, he peered into this pale, thin and irregular angular face, into these meek blue eyes that could sparkle with such fire, with such stern energetic feeling, at this small body, still trembling with indignation and anger, and all this seemed to him more and more strange, almost impossible. “Fool! holy fool!” - he repeated to himself.
There was a book on the chest of drawers. Every time he walked back and forth, he noticed her; Now I took it and looked. It was New Testament in Russian translation. The book was old, second-hand, bound in leather.
Where is this from? he shouted to her across the room. She stood still in the same place, three steps from the table.
“They brought it to me,” she answered, as if reluctantly and without looking at him. Who brought it? Lizaveta brought it, I asked.
“Lizaveta! Strange!" he thought. Everything about Sonya became somehow stranger and more wonderful for him with every minute. He carried the book to the candle and began to leaf through it.
Where is it about Lazarus? he asked suddenly.
Sonya stubbornly looked at the ground and did not answer. She stood slightly sideways to the table.
Where about the resurrection of Lazarus? Find it for me, Sonya.
She glanced sideways at him.
Look in the wrong place... in the fourth gospel... she whispered sternly, without moving towards him.
“Find it and read it to me,” he said, sat down, leaned his elbows on the table, rested his head on his hand and gloomily stared to the side, preparing to listen.
“In three weeks at the seventh mile, you are welcome! I think I’ll be there myself if things don’t get worse,” he muttered to himself.
Sonya hesitantly stepped towards the table, listening incredulously to Raskolnikov’s strange desire. However, I took the book.
Haven't you read? she asked, looking at him across the table, from under her brows. Her voice became more and more stern.
A long time ago... When I was studying. Read!
Haven’t you heard it in church?
I... didn't go. Do you go often?
“N-no,” Sonya whispered.
Raskolnikov chuckled.
I understand... And, therefore, you won’t go to bury your father tomorrow?
I'll go. Last week I was... I served a memorial service. For whom? According to Lizaveta. They killed her with an ax.
His nerves became more and more irritated. My head started to spin.
Were you and Lizaveta friends?
Yes... She was fair... she came... rarely... it was impossible. She and I read and... talked. She will see God.
These sounded strange to him book words, and again the news: some mysterious meetings with Lizaveta, and both are holy fools.
“Here you yourself will become a holy fool! Contagious! he thought. Read! “he exclaimed suddenly insistently and irritably.
Sonya still hesitated. Her heart was pounding. Somehow she didn’t dare read to him. He looked almost with torment at the “unfortunate madwoman.”
Why do you need it? After all, you don’t believe?.. She whispered quietly and somehow out of breath.
Read! I want it so much! he insisted, Lizaveta read it!
Sonya unfolded the book and found the place. Her hands were shaking, her voice was lacking. She started twice, but the first syllable was still not pronounced.
“There was a certain Lazarus from Bethany who was sick...” she finally said with effort, but suddenly, on the third word, her voice rang and broke, like a string that was too tense. The spirit was crossed, and my chest felt tight.
Raskolnikov understood partly why Sonya did not dare to read to him, and the more he understood this, the more rudely and irritably he insisted on reading. He understood too well how difficult it was for her now to reveal and expose everything. yours. He realized that these feelings really seemed to constitute a real and already long-standing, perhaps secret her, perhaps since adolescence, still in the family, next to the unfortunate father and stepmother, crazy with grief, among hungry children, ugly screams and reproaches. But at the same time, he now knew, and knew for sure, that although she was sad and afraid of something terribly, starting to read now, but at the same time she painfully wanted to read it herself, despite all the melancholy and all the fears, and exactly to him so that he can hear, and certainly Now“whatever happens next!”... He read it in her eyes, understood it from her enthusiastic excitement... She overpowered herself, suppressed the throat spasm that stopped her voice at the beginning of the verse, and continued reading the eleventh chapter of the Gospel of John . So she read to verse 19:
“And many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary to console them in their sorrow for their brother. Martha, hearing that Jesus was coming, went to meet him; Maria was sitting at home. Then Martha said to Jesus: Lord! If you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.”
Here she stopped again, shyly sensing that her voice would tremble and break again...
“Jesus says to her: Your brother will rise again. Martha said to him: I know that he will rise again on the resurrection, on the last day. Jesus said to her: I am the resurrection and the life; He who believes in me, even if he dies, will live. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this? She tells him
(and as if taking a painful breath, Sonya read separately and forcefully, as if she herself was confessing publicly):
Yes, Lord! I believe that you are the Christ, the son of God, coming into the world.”
She stopped and quickly stood up him eyes, but quickly overpowered herself and began to read further. Raskolnikov sat and listened motionless, without turning around, leaning his elbows on the table and looking to the side. We reached verse 32.
“Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, and fell at his feet; and said to him: Lord! If you had been here, my brother would not have died. When Jesus saw her crying and the Jews who came with her crying, he himself was grieved in spirit and indignant. And he said: where did you put it? They say to him: Lord! come and see. Jesus shed tears. Then the Jews said: Look how he loved him. And some of them said: “Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind man, have ensured that this one would not die?”
Raskolnikov turned to her and looked at her with excitement: yes, it is so! She was already shaking all over with a real, real fever. He expected this. She was approaching the word about the greatest and unheard of miracle, and a feeling of great triumph overwhelmed her. Her voice became ringing, like metal; triumph and joy sounded in him and strengthened him. The lines were jumbled in front of her because her eyes were getting dark, but she knew by heart what she was reading. At the last verse: “could not this one, who opened the eyes of the blind...” she, lowering her voice, passionately and passionately conveyed the doubt, reproach and blasphemy of the unbelievers, blind Jews, who now, in a minute, as if struck by thunder, will fall and sob and they will believe... “And he, he also blinded and unbelieving, he will also hear now, he will also believe, yes, yes! now, now,” she dreamed, and she trembled with joyful anticipation.
“Jesus, again grieving inwardly, goes to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay on it. Jesus says: take away the stone. The sister of the deceased Martha says to him: Lord! already stinks; for four days like he is in the grave."
She struck the word vigorously: four.
“Jesus said to her: Didn’t I tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God? So, they took the stone away from the cave where the deceased lay. Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said: Father, I thank you that you heard me. I knew that you would always hear me; but I said this for the sake of the people standing here, so that they might believe that you sent me. Having said this, he cried out with a loud voice: Lazarus! get out. And the dead man came out,
(she read loudly and enthusiastically, trembling and growing cold, as if she had seen it with her own eyes):
entwined on his hands and feet with burial shrouds; and his face was tied with a scarf. Jesus says to them: Loosen him; Let him go.
Then many of the Jews who came to Mary and saw what Jesus had done believed in him.”
She didn’t read further and couldn’t read, she closed the book and quickly got up from her chair.
“Everything about the resurrection of Lazarus,” she whispered abruptly and sternly and stood motionless, turning to the side, not daring and as if ashamed to raise her eyes to him. Her feverish trembling continued. The cinder had long gone out in the crooked candlestick, dimly illuminating in this beggarly room a murderer and a harlot, strangely gathered together to read an eternal book. Five minutes or more passed.
“I came to talk about business,” Raskolnikov suddenly said loudly and frowning, stood up and walked up to Sonya. She silently raised her eyes to him. His gaze was especially stern, and some kind of wild determination was expressed in it.
“I left my family today,” he said, “my mother and sister. I won't go to them now. I tore everything up there.
Why? Sonya asked, stunned. The recent meeting with his mother and sister left an extraordinary impression on her, although it was unclear to her. She listened to the news of the breakup almost with horror.
“Now I have only you,” he added. Let's go together... I came to you. We are damned together, let's go together!
His eyes sparkled. “How crazy!” Sonya thought in turn.
Where to go? she asked in fear and involuntarily stepped back.
Why do I know? I only know that along one road, I probably know, and that’s all. One goal!
She looked at him and did not understand anything. She only understood that he was terribly, infinitely unhappy.
“No one will understand anything from them if you tell them,” he continued, “but I understood.” I need you, that's why I came to you.
I don’t understand... Sonya whispered.
Then you will understand. Didn't you do the same? You also stepped over... were able to step over. You committed suicide, you ruined your life... my(it does not matter!). You could live in spirit and mind, but you will end up on the Haymarket... But you can’t stand it, and if you stay one, you'll go crazy like me. You’re already like crazy; Therefore, we must go together, along the same road! Let's go to!
Why? Why are you doing this! - said Sonya, strangely and rebelliously excited by his words.
Why? Because you can’t stay like this, that’s why! We must finally judge seriously and directly, and not childishly cry and shout that God will not allow it! Well, what will happen if they really take you to the hospital tomorrow? She is mentally ill and consumptive, she will die soon, and the children? Won't Polechka die? Have you really not seen children here, in the corners, whom their mothers send out to beg? I found out where these mothers lived and in what environment. Children cannot remain children there. There, the seven-year-old is depraved and a thief. But children are the image of Christ: “These is the kingdom of God.” He ordered them to be honored and loved, they are the future of humanity...
What, what should we do? Sonya repeated, crying hysterically and wringing her hands.
What to do? Break what is needed once and for all, and that’s all: and take the suffering upon yourself! What? Do not understand? Afterwards you will understand... Freedom and power, and most importantly power! Over all the trembling creatures and over the entire anthill!.. That’s the goal! Remember this! This is my parting word for you! This may be the last time I talk to you. If I don’t come tomorrow, you’ll hear about everything yourself, and then remember these present words. And someday, later, years later, with life, maybe you will understand what they meant. If I come tomorrow, I’ll tell you who killed Lizaveta. Goodbye!
Sonya trembled all over with fright.
Do you know who killed? she asked, freezing with horror and looking at him wildly.
I know and I’ll tell you... You, you alone! I chose you. I'm not coming to ask you for forgiveness, I'm just going to say it. I chose you a long time ago to tell you this, even when my father was talking about you and when Lizaveta was alive, I thought about it. Goodbye. Don't give me your hands. Tomorrow!
He left. Sonya looked at him as if he were crazy; but she herself was like crazy and felt it. Her head was spinning. "God! How does he know who killed Lizaveta? What did these words mean? This is scary! But at the same time thought didn't occur to her. No way! No way!.. “Oh, he must be terribly unhappy!.. He abandoned his mother and sister. For what? What happened? And what is his intention? What was he telling her? He kissed her foot and said... said (yes, he said it clearly) that he could no longer live without her... Oh God!
Sonya spent the whole night feverish and delirious. She sometimes jumped up, cried, wrung her hands, then fell asleep again in a feverish sleep, and she dreamed of Polechka, Katerina Ivanovna, Lizaveta, reading the Gospel and he... he, with his pale face, with burning eyes... He kisses her feet, crying... Oh my God!
Behind the door on the right, behind the same door that separated Sonya’s apartment from the apartment of Gertrude Karlovna Resslich, there was an intermediate room, long empty, which belonged to Mrs. Resslich’s apartment and was rented from her, about which there were labels on the gates and sticky notes on the glass windows overlooking the ditch. Sonya has long been accustomed to considering this room uninhabited. Meanwhile, all this time, Mr. Svidrigailov stood at the door in an empty room and, lurking, eavesdropped. When Raskolnikov came out, he stood, thought, went on tiptoe to his room, adjacent to the empty room, took out a chair and silently brought it to the very doors leading to Sonya’s room. The conversation seemed interesting and significant to him, and he really, really liked it, so much so that he even moved the chair so that in the future, even tomorrow, for example, he would not again be subjected to the hassle of standing on his feet for an hour, but would make himself more comfortable, so that he could in every way enjoy it to the fullest.
In the novel “Crime and Punishment” we meet not with the front side of a beautiful city, but with black staircases doused in slop, courtyards-wells reminiscent of a gas chamber. Dostoevsky's Petersburg is a city of peeling walls, unbearable stuffiness and stench. This is a city in which it is impossible to be healthy. He strangles and crushes a person. He is an accomplice to crimes, a breeding ground for delusional ideas and theories.
The interior and its meaning in the novel F
Portraits of heroes, landscapes, interiors - all these elements of composition in Dostoevsky’s novels fully correspond general atmosphere works create a unified tonality. Thus, the gloomy, oppressive, depressing atmosphere and life situations of the characters in the novel “Crime and Punishment” correspond to gloomy, ugly interiors. In this regard, we can talk about a certain convention, “givenness” (here we in no way want to diminish the realistic concreteness of the descriptions) of interiors in Dostoevsky’s novel.
Interiors in the novel “Crime and Punishment”
In Dostoevsky's novel “Crime is Punishment,” interiors are depicted in ugly, gloomy, oppressive colors. They emphasize the circumstances, the state of mind of the characters, and sometimes, on the contrary, they contrast with the characters. An example of this is the attractive portrait of Raskolnikov and the room in which he lives: a beggarly one, reminiscent of a coffin or a closet, with low ceiling, with yellow faded wallpaper.
Description of the rooms: crime and punishment
Svishcheva Irina Rafailievna, teacher of Russian language and literature of the 1st qualification category at the Shemordan Lyceum of the Sabinsky Municipal District of the Republic of Tatarstan.
1) to help students not only see Dostoevsky’s Petersburg, the chaotic diversity, overcrowding, suffocating crampedness of human existence, but also to feel sympathy for suffering people; to give an idea of the insolubility of those contradictions and dead ends into which the heroes of the novel find themselves, to lead to the understanding that this “unsolvability” depends not on the will of people, but on the state of society, which is so structured that the life of each of the heroes is possible only on humiliating conditions, on constant transactions with conscience;
Equipment: portrait of F.M. Dostoevsky, records, illustrations by I.S. Glazunov to the writer’s works, postcards with views of St. Petersburg, multimedia projector.
Landscapes: part 1 g.1.
Description of the room of the characters in the novel Crime and Punishment
Almost everything is described in yellow colors. Special attention Dostoevsky devotes not just to describing the squalid interiors of furnished rooms, but also draws our attention to smells and symbolic colors. Thus, yellow is a symbol of illness, poverty, and squalor of life. Yellow wallpaper and furniture yellow color in the room of the old woman-pawnbroker, Marmeladov’s face is yellow from constant drunkenness, yellow “similar
Description of Sonya Marmeladova's room
“Sonya’s room looked like a barn, had the appearance of a very irregular quadrangle, and this gave it something ugly. A wall with three windows, overlooking a ditch, cut the room somehow at an angle, causing one corner, terribly sharp, to run away somewhere deeper, so that, in the dim light, it was impossible to even see it well; the other angle was already too outrageously obtuse. There was almost no furniture in this entire large room. Room description
There are 300 Dostoevskys in St. Petersburg. This is a description of Sonya Marmeladova’s room. This description of the environment surrounding the characters is called interior. On to the questions.
“Test on Chekhov’s stories” - Name the main conflict in the play “The Cherry Orchard.” "Gooseberry". The fate of Russia. Genre "The Cherry Orchard". Name the story that first published stories. Test on the creativity of A.P. Chekhov, grade 10. Indicate off-stage characters.
Essay: Social motives for Raskolnikov’s crime in Dostoevsky’s novel Crime and Punishment
Roman F.M. Dostoevsky is essentially a socio-psychological and philosophical work. Dostoevsky showed the bottom of the capitalist city, the world of the humiliated and insulted. The author exposes a society where money rules, a society that is merciless towards those who do not have money. The victim of the capitalist world also becomes main character novel - Rodion Raskolnikov. This image is recreated psychologically subtly, with Dostoevsky’s characteristic ability to penetrate into inner world their heroes.
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Sonya Marmeladova Sonya Marmeladova, without a doubt, is one of the most famous and beloved images created by Dostoevsky in his novels and stories.
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Sonya's character Marmeladova Character and the author does not often describe the personality of Sonya Marmeladova in the novel and does not use a large number of epithets. In this way, Dostoevsky wanted to make the character of Sonya light and unobtrusive, almost unnoticeable. It was his idea.
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Below are several quotes about Sonya Marmeladova and her personality. Sonya Marmeladova: kind and merciful “...you don’t know yet, you don’t know what kind of heart this is, what kind of girl this is! ... ...Yes, she will take off her last dress, sell it, go barefoot, and give it to you, if you'll have to, that's what she is! She even received a yellow ticket, because my children were dying of hunger, she sold herself for us!.." (Katerina Ivanovna, Sonya's stepmother) Meek and timid "Sonya, timid by nature. .." (author) "...anyone could offend her with almost impunity..." (author) Patient and resigned "...She, of course, could endure everything with patience and almost resignedly..." (author)
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Sonya's appearance Marmeladova Appearance Sonya Marmeladova was a kind of “mirror” of her spiritual qualities. Dostoevsky “endowed” Sonya with blue eyes, blond hair and a childish expression. Many people associate this appearance with angelic purity and innocence. Sonya Marmeladova was about 18 years old, but she looked much younger due to her childish expression.
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Here are some quotes about Sonya’s appearance: “about eighteen” “short” “fair, her face is always pale and thin” “quite pretty blonde” “with wonderful blue eyes” - “she seemed almost like a girl, much younger than her years, almost completely child"
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Sonya Marmeladova's room "...She went to the third floor, turned into the gallery and rang the number nine, on the door of which was written in chalk: 'Capernaum's tailor...'... to the house on the ditch where Sonya lived. The house was three-story, old and green..." "...in the corner of the courtyard there is an entrance to a narrow and dark staircase..." "...Sonya's room looked like a barn, had the appearance of a very irregular quadrangle, and it gave her something ugly. A wall with three windows, overlooking a ditch, cut the room somehow at an angle, causing one corner, terribly sharp, to run away somewhere deeper, so that, in the dim light, it was impossible to even see it well; the other angle was already too outrageously obtuse. There was almost no furniture in this entire large room. In the corner, to the right, there was a bed; next to her, closer to the door, is a chair. On the same wall where the bed was, right at the door to someone else’s apartment, there stood a simple plank table covered with a blue tablecloth; near the table there are two wicker chairs... ...a small, simple wooden chest of drawers, as if lost in the void. That's all that was in the room. The yellowish, scrubbed and worn-out wallpaper turned black in all corners; It must have been damp and fumes here in the winter. Poverty was visible; Even the bed didn't have curtains."
Portraits of heroes, landscapes, interiors - all these elements of composition in Dostoevsky's novels fully correspond to the general atmosphere of the work and create a unified tone. Thus, the gloomy, oppressive, depressing atmosphere and life situations of the characters in the novel “Crime and Punishment” correspond to gloomy, ugly interiors. In this regard, we can talk about a certain convention, “givenness” (here we in no way want to diminish the realistic concreteness of the descriptions) of interiors in Dostoevsky’s novel. We find a similar convention, “givenness” in descriptions of the situation in Gogol’s poem “Dead Souls”. The furnishings of Gogol’s home fully correspond to the character of the hero, as if “continuing” him. In Dostoevsky's description of the situation, there is a correspondence not to character, but to life situation, circumstances, condition.
In addition, as N. M. Chirkov notes, Dostoevsky’s interior does not merge with the image of the hero: his environment is often contrasting with the person. Thus, the writer places Raskolnikov, who is “remarkably handsome,” “with beautiful dark eyes,” “thin and slender,” in a terrible, beggarly closet. His closet looks more like a closet than a room. This is a tiny cell, “six steps long,” “with yellow, dusty wallpaper that has fallen off the wall.” The furniture in it is old and ugly - three old, not entirely serviceable chairs, a painted table in the corner, an awkward, tattered sofa, a small table.
In the description of Raskolnikov’s room, the motif of desolation, lifelessness, and deadness is clearly felt. The ceilings in this closet are so low that a tall person feels terrified in it. Big table with books and notebooks covered with a thick layer of dust. To Pulcheria Alexandrovna, her son’s room seems like a coffin.
And indeed, life seemed to have stopped in this “yellow closet”. Raskolnikov is crushed by poverty, the thought of his own hopeless situation depresses him, and he avoids people, ceasing to deal with his daily affairs. Having left his studies at the university, Raskolnikov is inactive; he lies motionless all day long, secluded in his closet. Thus, already in the descriptions of the situation, the motive of death can be traced, which is then repeatedly implemented in the plot.
Dostoevsky's descriptions of the situation are marked by a subtle touch of psychologism. So, in the room of the old pawnbroker “it was very clean,” “both the furniture and the floors were polished.” “Not a speck of dust could be found in the entire apartment.” Raskolnikov notes that such purity occurs “only among evil and old widows.”
The furnishings of almost all dwellings in “Crime and Punishment” speak not only of extreme poverty and misery of their inhabitants, but also of their unsettled life and homelessness. The house is not a fortress for the heroes; it does not shelter them from life’s adversities. Small, ugly rooms are uncomfortable and unfriendly to their inhabitants, as if they are trying to drive the heroes out into the street.
Pulcheria Alexandrovna sighs with relief as she leaves Rodion’s closet. Sonya's room is very ugly, gloomy, and looks like a barn. There is almost no furniture in it, “the yellowish, shabby and worn-out wallpaper has turned black in all corners,” there is visible poverty everywhere. In this description, N. M. Chirkov notes a sharp contrast: Sonya’s room is huge - but she herself is small and thin (Raskolnikov notes this , being in Sonya's room). This contrast between the portrait and the interior, as the researcher notes, symbolizes the discrepancy between something hugely ridiculous and childishly weak, helpless in behavior and in the image of the heroine.
This room looks like an irregular quadrangle, which in itself is symbolic. The number “four” in digital symbolism has the meaning of solidity, strength, and inviolability. Sonya's room in the form of an irregular quadrangle seems to destroy the foundation of the foundations, something eternal and unshakable, like life itself. The age-old foundations of life here seem to have been undermined. And Sonya’s life is, indeed, virtually destroyed. Saving her family from death, she goes outside every evening. Dostoevsky already hints at how difficult this occupation is for her in Marmeladov’s drunken confession. Describing the history of his family to Raskolnikov, he notes that when Sonya first brought home thirty rubles, she “didn’t utter a word, but, covering herself with a scarf, silently lay down on the sofa and cried for a long time.” The world of St. Petersburg is a cruel, soulless world in which there is no place for kindness and mercy, which, according to Dostoevsky, constitute the basis of life, its inviolability.
Marmeladov’s home also presents a picture of appalling poverty. In his room, children's rags are scattered everywhere, a sheet with holes is stretched across the back corner, the only furniture is a tattered sofa, two chairs and an old kitchen table, unpainted and not covered with anything. It is characteristic that Marmeladov’s room is illuminated by a small candle stub. This detail symbolizes the gradual fading of life in this family. And indeed, first Marmeladov dies, crushed by the rich crew, then Katerina Ivanovna. Sonya leaves with Raskolnikov, placing the children in orphanages.
From the characters' rooms we find ourselves on dark, dirty, narrow stairs. As M. M. Bakhtin wrote, the whole life of the heroes actually passes on the stairs, in full view of others.
On the threshold, at the door, a conversation takes place between Raskolnikov and Sonya, who is overheard by Svidrigailov. Marmeladov's neighbors, gathered on the stairs, watch his dying confession with curiosity. The arrival of the doctor and the priest, the agony of the dying Marmeladov, the despair of Katerina Ivanovna - for those around him, all this is nothing more than an interesting performance. On the stairs, on the way from the Marmeladovs, Rodion meets a priest.
This last scene is deeply symbolic. Raskolnikov brings home the dying Marmeladov and helps his unfortunate family, leaving Katerina Ivanovna money for her husband’s funeral. For the first time after the murder, Raskolnikov is filled with “a new, immense feeling of a sudden surge of full and powerful life.” At this moment, going down the stairs, he meets the priest. The priest in this scene is a symbol of goodness, mercy, the best that lives in the hero’s soul. On the stairs, Raskolnikov is overtaken by Polenka, Sonya's younger sister, a pure, innocent child. In a fit of gratitude and childish delight, Polenka warmly hugs Rodion. With this scene, Dostoevsky seems to be opening up for his hero the possibility of repentance and finding unity with people.
The setting of Svidrigailov’s hotel, where he spends his time, is also symbolic in the novel. last night before suicide. His room is a very small “cell”, “almost not tall enough” for the hero, the walls look like they were “knocked together from boards with shabby wallpaper.” A small room, walls made of boards - all this reminds us of a coffin. Thus, in this case, Dostoevsky’s interior anticipates future events - the death of Svidrigailov.
It is worth noting that in all descriptions of the situation in the novel, the yellow tone predominates. Yellow, dusty wallpaper in Raskolnikov’s closet, in Sonya’s room, in Alena Ivanovna’s apartment, in the hotel where Svidrigailov was staying. In addition, in the house of the old pawnbroker there is furniture made of yellow wood, pictures in yellow frames.
The color yellow itself is the color of the sun, life, communication and openness. However, Dostoevsky symbolic meaning the colors are inverted: in the novel he emphasizes not the fullness of life, but lifelessness. It is characteristic that in descriptions of the situation we never see a bright, pure yellow color. In Dostoevsky's interiors there is always a dirty yellow, a dull yellow. Thus, the vitality of the characters in the novel seems to automatically decrease.
Thus, descriptions of the setting in a novel are not only the background against which the action takes place, not only an element of the composition. This is also a symbol of the vital, human homelessness of the heroes. This is also the symbol of St. Petersburg, the city of “irregular quadrangles”. In addition, interior details often foreshadow future events in the novel.
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