The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky [children's books read aloud TXT] 📗

tell you why I

smiled. Not long ago I read the criticism made by a German who had

lived in Russia, on our students and schoolboys of to-day. ‘Show a

Russian schoolboy,’ he writes, ‘a map of the stars, which he knows

nothing about, and he will give you back the map next day with

corrections on it.’ No knowledge and unbounded conceit-that’s what

the German meant to say about the Russian schoolboy.”

 

“Yes, that’s perfectly right,” Kolya laughed suddenly, “exactly

so! Bravo the German! But he did not see the good side, what do you

think? Conceit may be, that comes from youth, that will be corrected

if need be, but, on the other hand, there is an independent spirit

almost from childhood, boldness of thought and conviction, and not the

spirit of these sausage makers, grovelling before authority…. But

the German was right all the same. Bravo the German! But Germans

want strangling all the same. Though they are so good at science and

learning they must be strangled.”

 

“Strangled, what for?” smiled Alyosha.

 

“Well, perhaps I am talking nonsense, I agree. I am awfully

childish sometimes, and when I am pleased about anything I can’t

restrain myself and am ready to talk any stuff. But, I say, we are

chattering away here about nothing, and that doctor has been a long

time in there. But perhaps he’s examining the mamma and that poor

crippled Nina. I liked that Nina, you know. She whispered to me

suddenly as I was coming away, ‘Why didn’t you come before?’ And in

such a voice, so reproachfully! I think she is awfully nice and

pathetic.”

 

“Yes, yes! Well, you’ll be coming often, you will see what she

is like. It would do you a great deal of good to know people like

that, to learn to value a great deal which you will find out from

knowing these people,” Alyosha observed warmly. “That would have

more effect on you than anything.”

 

“Oh, how I regret and blame myself for not having come sooner!”

Kolya exclaimed, with bitter feeling.

 

“Yes, it’s a great pity. You saw for yourself how delighted the

poor child was to see you. And how he fretted for you to come!”

 

“Don’t tell me! You make it worse! But it serves me right. What

kept me from coming was my conceit, my egoistic vanity, and the

beastly wilfulness, which I never can get rid of, though I’ve been

struggling with it all my life. I see that now. I am a beast in lots

of ways, Karamazov!”

 

“No, you have a charming nature, though it’s been distorted, and I

quite understand why you have had such an influence on this

generous, morbidly sensitive boy,” Alyosha answered warmly.

 

“And you say that to me!” cried Kolya; “and would you believe

it, I thought-I’ve thought several times since I’ve been here-that

you despised me! If only you knew how I prize your opinion!”

 

“But are you really so sensitive? At your age! Would you believe

it, just now, when you were telling your story, I thought, as I

watched you, that you must be very sensitive!”

 

“You thought so? What an eye you’ve got, I say! I bet that was

when I was talking about the goose. That was just when I was

fancying you had a great contempt for me for being in such a hurry

to show off, and for a moment I quite hated you for it, and began

talking like a fool. Then I fancied-just now, here-when I said

that if there were no God He would have to be invented, that I was

in too great a hurry to display my knowledge, especially as I got that

phrase out of a book. But I swear I wasn’t showing off out of

vanity, though I really don’t know why. Because I was so pleased? Yes,

I believe it was because I was so pleased… though it’s perfectly

disgraceful for anyone to be gushing directly they are pleased, I know

that. But I am convinced now that you don’t despise me; it was all

my imagination. Oh, Karamazov, I am profoundly unhappy. I sometimes

fancy all sorts of things, that everyone is laughing at me, the

whole world, and then I feel ready to overturn the whole order of

things.”

 

“And you worry everyone about you,” smiled Alyosha.

 

“Yes, I worry everyone about me, especially my mother.

Karamazov, tell me, am I very ridiculous now?”

 

“Don’t think about that, don’t think of it at all!” cried Alyosha.

“And what does ridiculous mean? Isn’t everyone constantly being or

seeming ridiculous? Besides, nearly all clever people now are

fearfully afraid of being ridiculous, and that makes them unhappy. All

I am surprised at is that you should be feeling that so early,

though I’ve observed it for some time past,, not only in you. Nowadays

the very children have begun to suffer from it. It’s almost a sort

of insanity. The devil has taken the form of that vanity and entered

into the whole generation; it’s simply the devil,” added Alyosha,

without a trace of the smile that Kolya, staring at him, expected to

see. “You are like everyone else,” said Alyosha, in conclusion,

“that is, like very many others. Only you must not be like everybody

else, that’s all.”

 

“Even if everyone is like that?”

 

“Yes, even if everyone is like that. You be the only one not

like it. You really are not like everyone else, here you are not

ashamed to confess to something bad and even ridiculous. And who

will admit so much in these days? No one. And people have even

ceased to feel the impulse to self-criticism. Don’t be like everyone

else, even if you are the only one.”

 

“Splendid! I was not mistaken in you. You know how to console one.

Oh, how I have longed to know you, Karamazov! I’ve long been eager for

this meeting. Can you really have thought about me, too? You said just

now that you thought of me, too?”

 

“Yes, I’d heard of you and had thought of you, too… and if

it’s partly vanity that makes you ask, it doesn’t matter.”

 

“Do you know, Karamazov, our talk has been like a declaration of

love,” said Kolya, in a bashful and melting voice. “That’s not

ridiculous, is it?”

 

“Not at all ridiculous, and if it were, it wouldn’t matter,

because it’s been a good thing.” Alyosha smiled brightly.

 

“But do you know, Karamazov, you must admit that you are a

little ashamed yourself, now…. I see it by your eyes.” Kolya

smiled with a sort of sly happiness.

 

“Why ashamed?”

 

“Well, why are you blushing?”

 

“It was you made me blush,” laughed Alyosha, and he really did

blush. “Oh, well, I am a little, goodness knows why, I don’t know…”

he muttered, almost embarrassed.

 

“Oh, how I love you and admire you at this moment just because you

are rather ashamed! Because you are just like me,” cried Kolya, in

positive ecstasy. His cheeks glowed, his eyes beamed.

 

“You know, Kolya, you will be very unhappy in your life,”

something made Alyosha say suddenly.

 

“I know, I know. How you know it all before hand!” Kolya agreed at

once.

 

“But you will bless life on the whole, all the same.”

 

“Just so, hurrah! You are a prophet. Oh, we shall get on together,

Karamazov! Do you know, what delights me most, is that you treat me

quite like an equal. But we are not equals, no, we are not, you are

better! But we shall get on. Do you know, all this last month, I’ve

been saying to myself, ‘Either we shall be friends at once, for

ever, or we shall part enemies to the grave!’”

 

“And saying that, of course, you loved me,” Alyosha laughed gaily.

 

“I did. I loved you awfully. I’ve been loving and dreaming of you.

And how do you know it all beforehand? Ah, here’s the doctor.

Goodness! What will he tell us? Look at his face!”