he knew everything that it was proper to do....
It was as though he said: “Everything has
been foreseen and decreed by the old men—the
only thing is not to devise anything of your own....
And the chief thing of all is, don’t go even
as far as the threshold without God’s blessing!”—I
am bound to admit that deadly tedium reigned in his
house, in those low-ceiled, warm, dark rooms which
so often resounded from the chanting of vigils and
prayer-services,[2] with an odour of incense and fasting-viands,[3]
which almost never left them!
Andrei Nikolaevitch had married, when he was no longer
in his first youth, a poor young noblewoman of the
neighbourhood, a very nervous and sickly person, who
had been reared in one of the government institutes
for gentlewomen. She played far from badly on
the piano; she spoke French in boarding-school fashion;
she was given to enthusiasm, and still more addicted
to melancholy, and even to tears.... In a word,
she was of an uneasy character. As she considered
that her life had been ruined, she could not love
her husband, who, “as a matter of course,”
did not understand her; but she respected, she tolerated
him; and as she was a thoroughly honest and perfectly
cold being, she never once so much as thought of any
other “object.” Moreover, she was
constantly engrossed by anxieties: in the first
place, over her really feeble health; in the second
place, over the health of her husband, whose fits always
inspired her with something akin to superstitious
terror; and, in conclusion, over her only son, Misha,
whom she reared herself with great zeal. Andrei
Nikolaevitch did not prevent his wife’s busying
herself with Misha—but on one condition:
she was never, under any circumstances, to depart
from the limits, which had been defined once for all,
wherein everything in his house must revolve!
Thus, for example: during the Christmas holidays
and Vasily’s evening preceding the New Year,
Misha was not only permitted to dress up in costume
along with the other “lads,”—doing
so was even imposed upon him as an obligation....[4]
On the other hand, God forbid that he should do it
at any other time! And so forth, and so forth.
I remember this Misha at the age of thirteen.
He was a very comely lad with rosy little cheeks and
soft little lips (and altogether he was soft and plump),
with somewhat prominent, humid eyes; carefully brushed
and coifed—a regular little girl!—There
was only one thing about him which displeased me:
he laughed rarely; but when he did laugh his teeth,
which were large, white, and pointed like those of
a wild animal, displayed themselves unpleasantly;
his very laugh had a sharp and even fierce—almost
brutal—ring to it; and evil flashes darted
athwart his eyes. His mother always boasted of
his being so obedient and polite, and that he was
not fond of consorting with naughty boys, but always
was more inclined to feminine society.
