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
Besides this, it is in spring with the first song of the lark that
throughout all Siberia and Russia men set out on the tramp; God’s
creatures, if they can, break their prison and escape into the woods.
After the stifling ditch where they work, after the boats, the irons,
the rods and whips, they go vagabondizing where they please, wherever
they can make it out best; they eat and drink what they can get, ’tis
all the time pot-luck with them; and by night they sleep undisturbed in
the woods or in a field, without a care, without the agony of knowing
themselves in prison, as if they were God’s own birds; their
“good-night” is said to the stars, and the eye that watches them is the
eye of God. Not altogether a rosy life, by any means; sometimes hunger
and fatigue are heavy on them “in the service of General Cuckoo.” Often
enough the wanderers have not a morsel of bread to keep their teeth
going for days and days. They have to hide from everybody, run to earth
like marmots; sometimes they are driven to robbery, pillage--nay, even
murder.
“Send a man there and he becomes a child, and just throws himself on all
he sees”; that is what people say of those transported to Siberia. This
saying may be applied even more fitly to the tramps. They are almost all
brigands and thieves, by necessity rather than inclination. Many of them
are hardened to the life, irreclaimable; there are convicts who go off
after having served their time, even after they have been put on some
land as their own. They ought to be happy in their new state, with their
daily bread assured them. Well, it is not so; an irresistible impulse
sends them wandering off.
This life in the woods, wretched and fearful as it is, but still free
and adventurous, has a mysterious seduction for those who have
experienced it; among these fugitives you may find to your surprise,
people of good habit of mind, peaceable temper, who had shown every
promise of becoming settled creatures--good tillers of the land. A
convict will marry, have children, live for five years in the same
place, then all of a sudden he will disappear one fine morning,
abandoning wife and children, to the stupefaction of his family and the
whole neighbourhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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