Stavrogin's Confession and The Plan of The Life of a Great Sinner: With Introductory and Explanatory NotesDostoyevsky, Fyodor
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Stavrogin's Confession and The Plan of The Life of a Great Sinner: With Introductory and Explanatory Notes
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, 1821-1881 -- Translations into English; Russia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“A corner of the Greek Archipelago; blue caressing waves, islands and
rocks; fertile shore, a magic vista on the horizon, the appeal of the
setting sun—no words could describe it. Here was the cradle of European
man, here were the first scenes of the mythological world, here its
green paradise.... Here had once lived a beautiful race. They rose and
went to sleep happy and innocent; they filled the woods with their
joyful songs; the great abundance of their virgin powers went out into
love and into simple happiness. The sun bathed these islands and sea in
its beams, rejoicing in its beautiful children. Wonderful dream,
splendid illusion! A dream the most incredible of all that had ever been
dreamt, but upon it the whole of mankind has lavished all its powers
throughout history; for this it has made every sacrifice, for this men
have died on the cross and their prophets have been killed; without
this, nations will not live and are unable even to die. I lived through
all these feelings in my dream; I do not know what exactly I dreamt
about, but the rocks, the sea, and the slanting rays of the setting
sun—all these seemed to be still visible to me, when I woke and opened
my eyes and, for the first time in my life, found them full of tears. A
feeling of happiness, until then unfamiliar to me, went through my whole
heart, even painfully. It was now evening; through the window of my tiny
room, through the green leaves of the flowers standing on the sill,
poured a shaft of bright slanting rays from the setting sun, and bathed
me in their light. I quickly shut my eyes again, as if longing to bring
back the vanished dream, but suddenly, in the middle of the bright,
bright light, I saw a tiny point. The point began suddenly to take a
definite form, and all of a sudden I distinctly pictured to myself a
tiny reddish spider. At once I remembered it on the leaf of the
geranium, upon which, too, had poured the rays of the setting sun. It
was as though something were plunged through me; I raised myself and sat
on my bed.
“(That’s all how it happened then!)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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