The Idiot (13 page)

It chanced one day at the onset of winter, some four months after one of Afanasy Ivanovich’s summer visits to Otradnoye, on this occasion of but two weeks’ duration, that a rumour went round, or rather, a rumour somehow reached Nastasya Filippovna, that Afanasy Ivanovich was getting married in St Petersburg to a beautiful woman, who was rich, of high society - in a word, he was making a sound and brilliant match. This rumour later turned out to be not quite true in every detail: even then the wedding was merely at the stage of planning, and all of it was still very vague, but at this time an extraordinary upheaval none the less took place in Nastasya Filippovna’s fortunes. She suddenly showed unusual determination, displaying a most unexpected character. Without thinking long about it, she left her little house in the country and suddenly appeared in St Petersburg, going straight to see Totsky, all on her very own. He was amazed and began to talk; but it suddenly turned out, almost from the first word, that he would have to completely change his style, the diapason of his voice, the former subjects of pleasant and elegant conversation he had hitherto employed with such success, his logic - everything, everything, everything! Before him sat a completely different woman, not at all resembling the one he had hitherto known and had left in the hamlet of Otradnoye only that July.

For one thing, this new woman, it turned out, knew and understood an extraordinary amount - so much that one could only wonder where she had acquired such knowledge, cultivated such precise ideas within herself. (Not in her young ladies’ library, surely?) What was more, she even understood a great deal about juridical matters and had a positive knowledge, if not of the world, then at least of how certain matters proceed in the world; for another thing, she had not at all the same character as previously, and was no longer timid and vague in the manner of a schoolgirl, sometimes enchanting in her unaffected playfulness and naivety, sometimes sad and pensive, surprised, mistrustful, tearful and restless.

No: here, laughing in his face and stabbing him with the most venomous sarcasms was an extraordinary and unexpected creature who told him directly that she had never had anything for him in her heart but the most profound contempt, contempt that rose to the point of nausea, and had begun immediately after her initial astonishment. This new woman declared that in the full sense of the word it was a matter of indifference to her how soon he married, or whom, but that she had come here in order to prevent this marriage, and to prevent it out of spite, solely because she felt like it, and because, consequently, that was how it must be - ‘if only so I can laugh at you as much I want to, because now I, too, want to laugh at last’.

That, at least, was how she expressed it; she did not, perhaps, tell all that was in her mind. But while the new Nastasya Filippovna laughed and set forth all this, Afanasy Ivanovich considered the matter and,
as far as possible, put his somewhat bruised thoughts in order. His consideration lasted quite a long time; he spent nearly two weeks pondering and trying to make up his mind: but at the end of two weeks his decision was made. The fact was that Afanasy Ivanovich was then almost fifty, and he was a man in the highest degree respected and settled. His position in the world and in society had long ago been established on the firmest of foundations. More than anything else in the world he loved and valued himself, his peace and comfort, as befitted a man upright in the highest degree. Not the slightest infraction, not the slightest hesitation could be permitted in what, throughout all his life, had been in the making and had now assumed such a pleasant form. On the other hand, his experience and penetrating view of things very quickly and with unusual certainty made him realize that he now had to deal with a creature entirely out of the ordinary, that this really was a creature that would not merely make threats, but also carry them out and, above all, would decidedly stop at nothing, all the more so as she decidedly attached no value to anything in the world, so that it was even impossible to offer her inducements. Here, evidently, there was something else, some kind of mental and emotional mish-mash was at work - something akin to a romantic anger, goodness only knew at whom and at what, some kind of insatiable contempt that had leaped entirely beyond all measure - in a word, something in the highest degree ridiculous and impermissible in decent society and to encounter which, for any decent person, was simply divine retribution. Of course, with his wealth and connections Totsky could easily commit some minor and completely innocent act of villainy in order to rid himself of the unpleasantness. On the other hand, it was obvious that Nastasya Filippovna herself was not really in a position to cause any harm, even, for example, in a juridical sense; she would not even be able to make a significant scandal, for it would always be so easy to keep her within bounds. But all this was true only in the event that Nastasya Filippovna decided to act as most people act in such cases, without leaping too eccentrically beyond all measure. Here it was, however, that Totsky’s sureness of vision came into play: he was able to guess that Nastasya Filippovna herself knew perfectly well how harmless she was in a juridical sense, but that she had something entirely different in her mind and ... in her flashing eyes. Valuing nothing, and least of all herself (a great deal of intelligence and insight was needed in order to realize at that moment that she had long ago ceased to value herself, and for him, a sceptic and worldly cynic, to believe in the seriousness of this emotion), Nastasya Filippovna was capable of ruining herself, irrevocably and hideously, with Siberia and penal labour, as long as she could treat outrageously the man for whom she felt such inhuman revulsion. Afanasy Ivanovich never concealed that he was somewhat cowardly or, more precisely, in the highest degree conservative. Had he known, for example, that he was going to be murdered at the altar, or that something of that kind was about to happen to him, something exceedingly improper, ridiculous and unpl
easant in the company of others, then, naturally, he would have been alarmed, but not so much about being murdered and bloodied and injured, or spat in the face in public in front of everyone, etcetera, etcetera, as about the fact that this would happen to him in such an unnatural and unpleasant manner. And yet this was exactly what Nastasya Filippovna was predicting, though she was still keeping quiet about it; he knew that, to the highest degree, she had understood him and studied him, and consequently knew where to strike at him. And as the wedding was really still only a plan, Afanasy Ivanovich resigned himself and let Nastasya Filippovna have her way.

He was helped in this decision by one other circumstance: it was hard to imagine the degree to which this new Nastasya Filippovna differed from the former one in facial appearance. Before, she had been merely a very pretty girl, but now ... For a long time Totsky could not forgive himself for having looked for four years without seeing. To be sure, it meant a great deal when on both sides, inwardly and outwardly, a great change took place. He recalled, however, that, even before, there had been moments when, for example, strange thoughts had sometimes come to him from outside at the sight of those eyes: in them one somehow felt the imminence of some deep and mysterious darkness. This gaze looked as though it were asking him a riddle. In the past two years he had often been surprised by the alteration in Nastasya Filippovna’s complexion; she was becoming dreadfully pallid and - strangely - was even more beautiful for it. Totsky, who, like all gentlemen who have sown their wild oats in their day, had initially watched with contempt how cheaply this inexperienced soul fell into his hands, had of late begun to have doubts about his opinion. At any rate, he had decided as long ago as last spring to marry Nastasya Filippovna off in the near future, well and with a reasonable dowry, to some sensible and decent gentleman who served in another province. (Oh, how horribly and how cruelly Nastasya Filippovna now laughed at this!) But now Afanasy Ivanovich, fascinated by the novel situation, even thought that he might once again exploit this woman. He decided to settle Nastasya Filippovna in St Petersburg and to surround her with luxurious comfort. If not the one, then the other: Nastasya Filippovna could be shown off and even boasted about, within a certain little circle. For Afanasy Ivanovich was very proud of his reputation in that department, after all.

Five years of life in St Petersburg had passed, and, of course, in that time many things had become clear. Afanasy Ivanovich’s position was not a favourable one; worst of all was the fact that, having once lost his nerve, he was subsequently quite unable to put his mind at rest. He was afraid - and did not even himself know why - he was simply afraid of Nastasya Filippovna. For some time, during the first two years, he began to suspect that Nastasya Filippovna wanted to marry him herself, but that she kept silent because of extraordinary vanity, tenaciously waiting for him to propose to her. It would have been a strange claim; Afanasy Ivanovich frowned. To his great and (such is the human heart!) somewha
t unpleasant astonishment, he was suddenly, in the aftermath of a certain incident, convinced that even had he made a proposal, it would not have been accepted. For a long time he was unable to understand this. The only explanation that seemed possible to him was that the pride of the ‘humiliated and fantastical’ woman had now attained such frenzy that she found it more agreeable to display her contempt in a refusal than to finally normalize her position and attain an inaccessible grandeur. Worst of all was that Nastasya Filippovna had, to such a disastrous degree, got the upper hand. Nor would she submit to financial inducements, even very large ones, and though she accepted the comfort that was offered to her, she lived very modestly, and saved almost nothing during those five years. Afanasy Ivanovich began to risk a very cunning method in order to break his fetters: unobtrusively and cleverly, employing the assistance of skilful accomplices, he began to seduce her with sundry ideal temptations; but the personified ideals - princes, hussars, secretaries of embassies, poets, novelists, socialists even - made not the slightest impression on Nastasya Filippovna, as though in place of a heart she had a stone, and her feelings had withered and died once and for all. She lived mostly alone, read, even studied, was fond of music. She had few acquaintances; she mostly associated with some poor and ridiculous officials’ wives, knew two actresses of some sort, old women of some sort, was very fond of the large family of a respectable schoolteacher, and in this family she was much liked, and received with pleasure. Quite often in the evenings five or six acquaintances would call on her, no more. Totsky announced himself very frequently and punctually. Of late General Yepanchin had, not without difficulty, made her acquaintance. At the same time, easily and without any difficulty, a certain young official, Ferdyshchenko by name, a very disreputable and salacious-minded buffoon who drank a great deal and had pretensions to gaiety, also made her acquaintance. Another of her acquaintances was a strange young man by the name of Ptitsyn, a modest, punctual and dandified fellow who had risen from poverty and become a moneylender. Lastly, Gavrila Ivolgin made her acquaintance ... The end of it was that Nastasya Filippovna established a strange reputation: everyone knew of her beauty, but that was all; no one could boast of anything, no one could tell any stories. A reputation like this, her education, her elegant manner, her wit - all this finally confirmed Afanasy Ivanovich in a certain plan. It was at this moment that General Yepanchin began to take such an active and extraordinary part in the story.

When Totsky so courteously turned to him for friendly advice with regard to one of his daughters, he at once, in a most noble fashion, made the fullest and frankest of confessions. He disclosed that he was resolved to stop at nothing to obtain his freedom; that he would not rest easy even were Nastasya Filippovna herself to tell him that in future she would leave him in perfect peace; that words were not enough for him, that he required the fullest guarantees. They came to an agreement and determined to act jointly. It was initially decided to try the most gentle methods and to tou
ch, as it were, only ‘the heart’s noble strings’. They both arrived at Nastasya Filippovna’s house, and Totsky began quite bluntly by telling her of the unendurable horror of his position; he blamed himself for everything; said frankly that he could not repent of his original action with her, as he was a hardened voluptuary and not his own master, but that now he wished to be married and that the entire fate of this extremely proper and society marriage was in her hands; in a word, that he expected everything of her noble heart. Then General Yepanchin began to speak, in his capacity of father, and spoke reasonably, avoiding pathos, and merely mentioning that he fully acknowledged her right to decide Afanasy Ivanovich’s fate, cleverly showing off his own resigned attitude by pointing out that the fate of his daughter, and possibly that of his two other daughters, now depended on her decision. To Nastasya Filippovna’s question: ‘Just what is it that you want of me?’ Totsky confessed to her, with the same open bluntness, that he had been so intimidated by her five years earlier that even now he could not quite rest easy until Nastasya Filippovna herself had married someone. He at once added that this request would, of course, have been a preposterous one on his part had he not had certain reasons for making it. He had taken very good note and positively knew for a fact that a young man of very good family, living in the most worthy of households, namely Gavrila Ardalionovich Ivolgin, whom she knew and received in her house, had for a long time loved her with all the strength of passion and would, of course, have given half his life for the hope of acquiring her favour. Gavrila Ardalionovich had made these confessions to him, Afanasy Ivanovich, a long time ago, in a friendly way and out of a pure young heart, and Ivan Fyodorovich, the young man’s benefactor, had also long known about it. Lastly, if he was not mistaken, the young man’s love had also long been known to Nastasya Filippovna herself, and he even fancied that she looked upon this love with indulgence. Of course, it was harder for him to talk about this than anyone else. But if Nastasya Filippovna was willing to allow that he, Totsky, in addition to egoism and a desire to arrange his own destiny, had at least some good feeling towards her, she would have realized that he had long found it strange and even painful to look upon her loneliness: that here was nothing but an uncertain darkness, a complete lack of faith in a renewal of life, which could have been resurrected so beautifully in love and a family and thus acquired a new goal; that here was a waste of talents, which were perhaps brilliant, a voluntary brooding on her own anguish, in a word, even a certain romanticism, worthy neither of Nastasya Filippovna’s sensible mind nor of her noble heart. Repeating again that it was harder for him to speak than others, he concluded by saying that he could not reject the hope that Nastasya Filippovna would not respond with contempt if he expressed his sincere desire to make her future secure and offered her the sum of seventy-five thousand roubles. He added, in explanation, that this sum was in any case already allotted to her in his will; in a word, that here there was no question of a rew
ard of some kind ... and that, finally, why not allow and excuse him the human desire to at least relieve his conscience in some way, etcetera, etcetera - all the things that are said on this subject in such cases. Afanasy Ivanovich spoke long and eloquently, adding, as it were, in passing, the very curious information that this was the first time he had alluded to this seventy-five thousand, and that not even Ivan Fyodorovich himself, who was sitting right there, knew about it; in a word, no one did.