аааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааа Anton Chekhovаааа

Gooseberry

аааааа Since early morning the entire sky was covered with rainy clouds; in was silent, not hot and tedious, as it happens during gray gloomy days when clouds have been impending over the field for a long time, youТre waiting for it to start raining but it doesnТt.а Veterinarian Ivan Ivanich and grammar school teacher Burkin were already weary walking, and the field seemed to be endless.а Mills of the village Mironositskoye were barely seen far ahead, there was a long row of the hills on the right disappearing far beyond the village, and they both knew that it was a bank of the river, there were meadows, green willows, manors, and if you stand on the top of one of the hills you can see the same huge field, telegraph and a train that looks like a giant caterpillar from afar, and even the town might be seen if the weather is clear. Now, when the weather was calm, and all the nature seemed to be meek and pensive, Ivan Ivanich and Burkin were imbued with love to this field, and they both were thinking about how great, how beautiful was this country.

УLast time when we were in old ProkophiyТs shed,Ф Burkin said. ФYou were going to tell me a story.Ф

УYes, I was going to tell you about my brother then.Ф

Ivan Ivanich took a deep breath and lighted a pipe in order to start to narrate but it started to rain at the moment. And in five minutes it already rained strongly and it was hard to foresee when it would be over.а Ivan Ivanovich and Burkin stopped in doubts; some dogs already wet were standing and looking at them with deep emotion.

УWe have to hide somewhere,Ф Burkin said. УLetТs go to Alyohin. It is near.Ф

УLetТs go.Ф

They had turned aside and were walking through the mown off field sometimes straight, sometimes to the right until they reached the road.а Soon the poplars showed up, the garden, the red roofs of the darns; the river started to glint and they saw the view to the wide area with the mill and white bathhouse.а It was Sophino where Alyohin lived.

The mill was working louder than the rain; the dike was shaking. Wet horses stood here near carts bowing their heads and people walked covering themselves with sacks. It was damp, dirty, and uncomfortable and the river-reach looked cold and severe.а Ivan Ivanich and Burkin had this feeling of moisture, uncleanness, inconvenience through the whole body, feet were heavy with soil and when they having passed the dike were walking up to the manor darns, they were quiet as if angry at each other.

The winnowing machine was making a noise in one of the darns; the door was open and the dust was flocking outside.а Alyohin himself was standing on the threshold; the men about forty years old, tall, stout, longhaired, he looked more like professor or artist than like a landowner. He was wearing white, washed long ago shirt with a waist-rope, underpants instead of trousers, and some dirt and thatch stick to his boots.

His nose and eyes were blackened with dust. He recognized Ivan Ivanich and Burkin and, obviously, was very glad.

УWelcome, gentlemen, to the house.Ф He said smiling. УI will be back in a minute.Ф

The house was big and had two stories. Alyohin lived downstairs, in two rooms with vaults and tiny windows, where stewards used to live long ago; the furniture was simple and there was a smell of rye bread, cheap vodka and harness.а He was upstairs in front rooms very rarely only when guests came.а Ivan Ivanich and Burkin were met by parlormaid, young woman, so beautiful, that they both stopped and looked at each other.

УYou canТt imagine how glad I am to see you, gentlemen,Ф Alyohin was telling entering the room after them. УI wasnТt expecting! Pelageya,Ф he turned to the parlormaid, ФGive some clothes to the guests to change. By the way, I will change either. But before it I have to wash myself because, it seems to me, I havenТt washed myself since last spring.а Do you want, gentlemen, to go to the bathhouse while they are preparing here.Ф

Beautiful Pelageya, so delicate and soft looking, brought some soap and sheets, and Alyohin with the guests went to the bathhouse.

УYeah, itТs been long time since I washed,Ф He was saying undressing. УAs you can see, my bathhouse is good, my dad has built it, but I donТt have any time to wash.Ф

He sat to the step and soaped his long hair and neck, and water near him turned brown.

УYeah, I must say-У Ivan Ivanich said significantly looking at his head.

УItТs been long time since I washed-Ф Alyohin said again confusedly and soaped himself one more time, and the water near him turned navy as ink.

Ivan Ivanich walked outside, threw himself into the water and swam in the rain widely swinging his hands and making waves, and white lilies swayed in the waves; he swam all the way to the middle of the river-reach and dived, and in a minute showed up in the other spot and continued swimming, and kept diving trying to reach the bottom.

УOh my GodЕФ He was repeating. УOh my GodЕФ

He swam to the mill, had a talk with the peasants there about something and turned back and lay down in the middle of the reach setting his face under the rain. Burkin and Alyohin were going to live, and he was still swimming and diving.

УOh my God!Ф He was saying. УAh, God have mercy upon us.Ф

УItТs enough for you!Ф Burkin shouted to him.

They came back into the house. And only when in the big living room upstairs the lamp was lightened and Burkin and Ivan Ivanich having silk bathrobes and warm shoes on were sitting in the armchairs, and Alyohin himself, washed, brushed, having new frock coat on was walking around the room, apparently, feeling with pleasure warm, cleanliness, dry dress, light footwear, and when beautiful Pelageya, noiselessly stepping the carpet and softly smiling was serving them tea with jam, only then Ivan Ivanich started his narrative, and it seemed that not only Burkin and Alyohin but also old and young ladies and militarists calmly and austerely looking from the golden frames were listening to him.

УWe are two brothers,Ф He began. УMe, Ivan Ivanich, and the other, Nikolay Ivanich, two years younger.а I went by scientific way and became a veterinarian, and my brother since he was nineteen was sitting it the state chamber[1].а Our father, Chimsha-Himalayskiy was a cantonist but he got an officerТs rank and left us hereditary nobility and little estate. After his death this little estate was taken from us because of debts but anyway we spent our childhood in the village, in the freedom.а We as if peasant children were spending days and nights in the field, watching over the horses, pulling off the bast, fishing and all the stuffЕ And you know, someone who at least once in his life has caught a fish or seen in the autumn migrating thrushes, as their flocks fly around above the village during the clear fresh days, this one is not a town-liver any more, and he will need freedom the rest of his days.а My broth grieved in the state chamber.а Years were passing by, and he was sitting there at the same place, writing the same papers and thinking about the same: going to village.а And this grief little by little transformed into defined desire, into a dream to buy a little manor somewhere on the bank of river or lake.а

He was kind, meek person, I loved him, but I never sympathized his desire to lock himself in his own manor.а It is said that man needs three arshines[2] of land.а But that is corpse that needs tree arshines, not a man. And also it is said that if our intelligentsia gravitates towards land and strives into manors it is good.а But those manors are the same three arshines of land.а To leave the town, the struggle, the worldly noise, to leave and hide oneself in oneТs manor Ц itТs not life, it is egoism, idleness, it is some kind of monastic, but monastic without any feat.а Man needs not just three arshines of land, not a manor, but the whole Earth, the whole nature, where being free he would be able to show all qualities and peculiarities of his free spirit.

My brother Nikolay sitting in his secretariat dreamed about how he will eat his own cabbage soup that spreads so tasty smell around the whole yard, eat on the green grass, sleep in the sun, sit during long hours outside the gate on the bench and watch the field and forest. Agricultural books and all those advices in the calendars were his joy, his favorite spiritual fare; he also like to read newspapers but in them he read only announcements about that many tithes[3] of tillage and meadow with a manor, a river, a garden, a mill, with flowing ponds are on sale. And images of paths through the garden, flowers, fruits, nestling boxes, crucians in the ponds and, you know, of all those things appeared in his head.а And those imaginary pictures were different, depending on announcements that he saw, but each one for some reason had some gooseberry in it.а He couldnТt imagine a single manor, a single poetic nook without some gooseberry.

УCountry life has itТs own conveniences,Ф He was telling sometimes. УYouТre sit at the balcony, drinking your tea, and your ducks are swimming in the pond, it smells so good, andЕ and the gooseberries grow.Ф

He used to design the plan of his property, and every time his plan had the same on it: a) manorial house, b) servantТs room, c) kitchen garden, d) gooseberries.а He lived scanty: didnТt eat enough, didnТt drink enough, had clothes as beggars have, but saved the money to put them to the bank. He was terribly avaricious.а It was painful for me to look at him, and I used to give and to send him some money on holidays but even this he hided.а If someone has his mind occupied with the idea, nothing can be done with it.

Years were passing by, he was transferred to the other province, his fortieth year passed and he kept reading announcements in newspapers.а And then, I heard, he got married. With the same purpose, to buy a manor with gooseberry, he married old, homely widow without any feeling only because she had some money.а He lived with her scanty also, kept her hungry, and put her money to the bank under his name.а Before she was married with postmaster, and she was used to pies and wines, but with her second husband even she didnТt even see enough rye bread; because of this life she started to whither and in three years gave to God her soul.а And, of course, brother didnТt even for a minute think that her death is his fault.а Money, as vodka, make person to be a crank.а The merchant was dieing in our town. Before his death he ordered to give him a bowl of honey and ate all his money in order not to let anyone have them.а Once at the station I was looking at droves when one horsedealer fell under the train and lost his leg.а We were carrying him to the nursery office, the blood is running terribly and he was asking us to find his leg, and worried: there were twenty rubles in his boot on the cut leg, they might have been gone.Ф

УItТs from another opera,Ф Burkin said.

УAfter wifeТs death,Ф Ivan Ivanich continued having thought for half a minute. ФMy brother started to look for the estate.а Of course, even if youТve been looking for it for five years eventually you will make a mistake and buy not something you dreamed about.а Brother Nikolay via the commissioner with the debt transfer bought hundred and twelve tithes with manorial house, with servantТs room, with the park but without either fruit garden, or gooseberries, or ponds with ducks; there was a river, but the color was the same as coffee is because on the one side of the property there was a brick factory, and on the other a bone burning one. But my Nikolay Ivanich had little sorrow because of it; he bought himself twenty bushes of gooseberry, planted them and started a landownerТs life.

Last year I went to visit him.а I will go, I thought, and see whatТs going on there.а In his letters brother called the estate УChumbaroklova emptinessФ, УHimalayskoye tozhФ.а I came to УHimalayskoye tozhФ in the afternoon. It was hot.а Lots of ditches everywhere, fences, hedges, rows of firs Ц I didnТt know how to get into the yard, where to park my horses.а I walked towards the house and saw the red dog meeting me; fat, looking like a swine. She wants to bark, but sheТs too lazy.а The cook-maid went out of the kitchen, barelegged, fat, also looking like a swine, and said that master is having a rest after dinner.а I enter the brotherТs room, heТs sitting on the bed, his knees are covered with the blanket; he became older, fatter, flabbier; cheeks, nose and lips are stretching forward Ц seems like heТs going to grunt into the blanket.

We hugged, wept a little of joy and of sad thought that we used to be young and now we both are gray-haired and itТs time to die.а He got dressed and led me to show his property.

УHow are you doing here?Ф I asked.

УNot bad, thank goodness, I live good.Ф

I was no more former timid wretch bureaucrat but a real landowner, nobleman.а He rendered habitable here, got used and took a fancy; ate a lot, washed in the banya[4], was gained weight, already had court case with society and with the both plants and was very offended when peasants didnТt call him Уyour honorableФ. And took care about his soul solidly, noblemanly, and good deeds performed not simply but with conceit.а And what kind of good deeds?а Treated peasants against all diseases with backing soda and castor oil and on the day of his birthday served a big thanksgiving for the entire village and then gave them half a bucket of vodka; he thought that one has to. Oh, this awful half a bucket! Today fat landowner pulls the peasants to the sheriff for damaging the crops, and tomorrow, on solemn day he gives them half a bucket, and they drink and shout УHurrah!Ф and being drunk bow to his legs. The change to better life, satisfaction, idleness develop in Russian man self-esteem, and the most impudent.а Nikolay Ivanich, who being in state chamber long ago used to be afraid to have even for himself his own point of view, now was telling only the truth and with the tone as if he was a minister: УThe education is necessary but for people it is prematureФ, Уcorporal punishments are harmful on the whole but in certain cases they are useful and irreplaceable".

УI know people and I know how to treat them.Ф He used to say. УPeople like me.а ItТs enough for me to move my finger, and they will do for me whatever I want.Ф

And all this, remark, was said with clever, kind smile.а He repeated it about twenty times Уwe noblesФ, УI as a nobleФ; obviously, he didnТt remember, that our grandfather was a peasant, and our father Ц a soldier.а Even our family name Chimsha-Himalayskiy, uncomfortable at bottom, now sounded to him sonorous, noble and very pleasant.

But the matter is not in him but in me.а I want to tell you what a big change happened in me during those few hours I spent in his manor.а In the evening, when we were drinking tea, the cook-maid served the full bowl of gooseberries.а Those gooseberries were not bought but own, gathered for the first time since the bushes were planted.а Nikolay Ivanich laughed and stared at the gooseberries for a minute tacitly, with the tears, - he couldnТt speak because of excitement, - and then he put one berry into his mouth, glanced at me with the triumph of a child who got his favorite toy, and said: УSo delicious!Ф

And he kept eating with avarice and saying:

УAh, so delicious! You try it!Ф

It was rough and sour, but, as Pushkin said, Уthe glorifying fraud is dearer for us than darkness of the truthФ.а I saw the happy man whose sacred dream had come true so obviously, who achieved the goal of his life, obtained what he wanted, who was satisfied with his life and himself.а Something sad always used to admix to my thoughts about humanТs happiness, but now when I saw the happy man I was fulfilled with such a grievous feeling that was close to despair.а Especially hard it was for me at night.а My bed was made in the room next to my brotherТs bedroom, and I could hear him not sleeping but getting up and walking to the plate with the gooseberries and taking berries one by one.а I was thinking over: how many, indeed, satisfied, happy people are there!а Such an overwhelming power!а Just look at this life: impudence and idleness of the mighty, ignorance and brutish look of the weak, impossible poverty everywhere, throng, degeneration, drunkenness, hypocrisy, lieЕ Meanwhile all the houses and streets are calm and quiet; fifty thousand people in the town and nobody will shout, nobody will revolt aloud.а We see those which are going to the market for grocery, eating during the day, sleeping at night, who are telling their nonsense, getting married, getting older, benignly pulling to the cemeteries their decedents; but we donТt see those who suffer, and everything terrible in this life happens behind the curtain. Everything is calm and quiet, and only dumb statistics protests: this many went crazy, this many buckets of vodka were drunk, this many children have died or starvationЕа And, obviously, one needs this order; obviously, happy person feels good because unhappy carry their burden silently, and without this silence happiness would be impossibleЕа ItТs total hypnosis.а It has to be then behind every happy manТs door thereТs someone with a little hammer who reminds him with his knock constantly that there are paltry people, that, though he is happy, life will show him its claws one day, and the disaster will come Ц disease, poverty, losses, and nobody will see and hear as he doesnТt see and hear now.а But thereТs no man with a hammer, and the happy lives himself, just about worried by little concerns of life as an asp by the wind, - and everythingТs fine.Фа

УDuring that night it became clear to me that I had also been satisfied and happy.Ф Continued Ivan Ivanich, getting up. УI had also been teaching how to live, how to believe, how to rule the peasants at the dinner table or hunting.а I also used to say that science is light, that education is necessary but only writing and reading was enough for simple people.а The freedom is a blessing, I used to say, as essential as air, but we have to wait.а Yes, I used to say this, but now IТm asking: what is the purpose of waiting?Ф Ivan Ivanich asked staring angrily at Burkin. УWhat is the purpose of waiting, IТm asking you? What is the reason? IТm told that not everything at a time, that every idea comes to life gradually, when its time comes.а But who says this? Where are the evidences that it is true?а You refer to natural order of things, to the laws of events, but are there any laws when I, alive and thinking man, am standing over the ditch and waiting until it is overgrown by itself or covered by silt, while I could probably just jump over it or build a bridge?а And again, what is the purpose of waiting? Of waiting when thereТs no strength to live when one needs to live and one wants to!

I left my brotherТs place then early in the morning, and ever since it is unbearable for me to be in town.а I am depressed by silence and tranquility, IТm afraid to look at the windows because thereТs no more oppressive sight for me than happy family sitting at the table and drinking tea.а IТm too old to fight, IТm not even able to hate.а I only mourn in soul, get irritated, vexed, have a headache at night because of rush of thoughts, and I cannot sleepЕ Ah, If I were young!Ф

Ivan Ivanich paced the floor in excitement from corner to corner and repeated:

УIf I were young!Ф

Suddenly he walked to Alyohin and started to shake his one hand and then the other.

УPavel Konstantinovich!Ф He said with begging voice. УDonТt get calm, donТt let them lull you to sleep!а As long as youТre young, healthy, vigorous donТt be tired to do good deeds!а There is no happiness and there is not supposed to be any, but if there is any sense and purpose in life, this sense and purpose are not in our happiness but in something more wise and great. Do good!

And all this he said with such a pitiable and begging smile as if he begged for himself personally.

And then all three of them were sitting in the armchairs in the other sides of the living room and werenТt speaking.а Ivan IvanovichТs story satisfied neither Burkin, nor Alyohin. When generals and ladies were staring from the golden frames and seemed to be alive in the dusk, it was boring to listen to the story about poor bureaucrat who used to eat gooseberries, it felt more like talking and listening about elegant people, about women.а And the fact that they were sitting in the living-room where everything Ц both covered chandelier and armchairs, and carpets under their feet, - was saying that those people who are staring from the frames now used to walk, sit, drink tea here, and that beautiful Pelageya were noiselessly walking here, - it was better then any stories.

Alyohin was very sleepy: he got up early, about three in the morning because of his household work, and now his eyes were sticking together, but he was afraid that his guests might have started to tell something interesting and didnТt leave.а Was in wise what Ivan Ivanich was just talking about, was in right, he didnТt penetrate; guests were discussing neither cereal, nor hay, nor tar, but something that didnТt have straight relation to his life, and he was glad and he wanted them to continueЕ

УHowever, it is time to go bed.Ф Burkin said getting up. УLet me say good night to you.Ф

Alyohin said goodbye and went downstairs to his room while guests stayed upstairs. They both were given a big room with two old wooden beds with carving decoration and ivory crucifixion in the corner; their wide, cool beds made by beautiful Pelageya pleasantly smelt like fresh linen.

Ivan Ivanich silently undressed and lied down.

УLord, forgive us sinners!Ф He said and covered his head.

His pipe that was lying on the table had a strong smell of stale tobacco, and Burkin didnТt sleep for a long time and couldnТt understand where is thing heavy smell coming from.

Rain was knocking o the windows through the whole night.аааа ааа