The house of the dead : $b or, Prison life in SiberiaDostoyevsky, Fyodor
General
The house of the dead : $b or, Prison life in Siberia
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor
Exiles -- Fiction; Siberia (Russia) -- Fiction
Seated on his bed he stuffed his nose eagerly with snuff, which he took
from a paper bag, in order to sneeze more strongly, and with greater
regularity. He sneezed into a checked cotton pocket-handkerchief which
belonged to him, and which had lost its colour through perpetual
washing. His little nose then became wrinkled in a most peculiar manner
with a multitude of wrinkles, and his open mouth exhibited broken teeth,
decayed and black, and red gums moist with saliva. When he sneezed into
his handkerchief he unfolded it and wiped it on the lining of his
dressing-gown. His proceedings disgusted me so much that involuntarily I
examined the dressing-gown I had just put on myself. It exhaled a most
offensive odour, which contact with my body helped to bring out. It
smelt of plasters and medicaments of all kinds. It seemed as though it
had been worn by patients from time immemorial. The lining had, perhaps,
been washed once, but I would not swear to it. Certainly, at the time I
put it on, it was saturated with lotions, and stained by contact with
poultices and plasters of all imaginable kinds.
The men condemned to the rods, having undergone their punishment, were
brought straight to the hospital, their backs still bleeding. As
compresses and as poultices were placed on their wounds, the
dressing-gown they wore over their wet shirt received and retained the
droppings.
During all the time of my hard labour I had to go to the hospital, which
often happened, I always put on, with mistrust and abhorrence, the
dressing-gown that was delivered to me. As soon as Tchekounoff had given
me my tea (I will say, in parenthesis, that the water brought in in the
morning, and not renewed throughout the day, was soon corrupted, soon
poisoned by the fetid air), the door opened, and the soldier, who had
just received the rods, was brought in under a double escort. I saw, for
the first time, a man who had just been whipped. Later on many were
brought in, and whenever this happened it caused great distress to the
patients. These unfortunate men were received with grave composure, but
the nature of the reception depended nearly always on the enormity of
the crime committed, and, consequently, the number of strokes
administered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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