A Reckless Character, and Other StoriesTurgenev, Ivan Sergeevich
General
A Reckless Character, and Other Stories
Turgenev, Ivan Sergeevich
Russia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Turgenev, Ivan Sergeevich, 1818-1883 -- Translations into English
The enemy smiled with satisfaction, and went his way; but the friend sat
down on the shore and began to weep bitterly over his poor ... poor
friend!
"He would not heed me! He would not heed me!" he whispered dejectedly.
"However!" he said at last. "He would have been obliged to languish all
his life in that frightful prison! At all events, he is not suffering
now! Now he is better off! Evidently, so had his Fate decreed!
"And yet, it is a pity, from a human point of view!"
And the good soul continued to sob inconsolably over his unlucky friend.
December, 1878.
CHRIST
I saw myself as a youth, almost a little boy, in a low-ceiled country
church.--Slender wax tapers burned like red spots in front of the
ancient holy pictures.
An aureole of rainbow hues encircled each tiny flame.--It was dark and
dim in the church.... But a mass of people stood in front of me.
All reddish, peasant heads. From time to time they would begin to surge,
to fall, to rise again, like ripe ears of grain when the summer breeze
flits across them in a slow wave.
Suddenly some man or other stepped from behind and took up his stand
alongside me.
I did not turn toward him, but I immediately felt that that man
was--Christ.
Emotion, curiosity, awe took possession of me simultaneously. I forced
myself to look at my neighbour.
He had a face like that of everybody else,--a face similar to all human
faces. His eyes gazed slightly upward, attentively and gently. His lips
were closed, but not compressed; the upper lip seemed to rest upon the
lower; his small beard was parted in the middle. His hands were clasped,
and did not move. And his garments were like those of every one else.
"Christ, forsooth!" I thought to myself. "Such a simple, simple man! It
cannot be!"
I turned away.--But before I had time to turn my eyes from that simple
man it again seemed to me that it was Christ in person who was standing
beside me.
Again I exerted an effort over myself.... And again I beheld the same
face, resembling all human faces, the same ordinary, although
unfamiliar, features.
And suddenly dread fell upon me, and I came to myself. Only then did I
understand that precisely such a face--a face like all human faces--is
the face of Christ.
December, 1878.
II
1879-1882
THE STONE
Have you seen an old, old stone on the seashore, when the brisk waves
are beating upon it from all sides, at high tide, on a sunny spring
day--beating and sparkling and caressing it, and drenching its mossy
head with crumbling pearls of glittering foam?
The stone remains the same stone, but brilliant colours start forth upon
its surly exterior.
They bear witness to that distant time when the molten granite was only
just beginning to harden and was all glowing with fiery hues.
Thus also did young feminine souls recently attack my old heart from all
quarters,--and beneath their caressing touch it glowed once more with
colours which faded long ago,--with traces of its pristine fire!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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