Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "MAKAR"

Часть текста: Tercera parte. Capítulo II CAPÍTULO II I A Lisa, yo no la había "olvidado"; mamá se engañaba. Aquella madre sensible veía que reinaba una especie de frialdad entre el hermano y la hermana, pero no era cuestión de falta de cáriño, antes bien de celos. Voy a explicarme, puesto que viene a cuento, en dos palabras. La pobre Lisa, después del arresto del príncipe, estaba como poseída de yo no sé qué orgullo arrogante, qué altivez inaccesible, casi insoportable; pero todo el mundo en la casa adivinó la verdad, a saber, que ella sufría, y, en cuanto a mí, si al principio me irritaba y fruncía las cejas ante aquellos modales, fue únicamente a causa de mi susceptibilidad mezquina, decuplicada aún por la enfermedad; por lo menos eso es lo que pienso hoy de ello. Pero jamás dejé de querer a Lisa. Muy al contrario, la quería todavía más. Solamente que no quería ser yo quien diera el primer paso, aun comprendiendo que tampoco sería ella quien to daría, a ningún precio. Desde que se conoció la historia del príncipe, inmediatamente después de su arresto, Lisa no tuvo más preocupación que la de tomar respecto a nosotros y respecto a todo el mundo la actitud de una persona que no sabría ni siquiera admitir la idea de que se la pudiese compadecer o consolar, al justificar al príncipe. Al ...

2. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток). Part III. Chapter II

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Часть текста: how she was suffering, and if at first I scowled and was sulky at her manner with us, it was simply owing to my petty irritability, increased tenfold by illness--that is how I explain it now. I had not ceased to love Liza; on the contrary, I loved her more than ever, only I did not want to be the first to make advances, though I understood that nothing would have induced her either to make the first advances. As soon as all the facts came out about Prince Sergay, that is, immediately after his arrest, Liza made haste at once to take up an attitude to us, and to every one else, that would not admit of the possibility of sympathy or any sort of consolation and excuses for Prince Sergay. On the contrary, she seemed continually priding herself on her luckless lover's action as though it were the loftiest heroism, though she tried to avoid all discussion of the subject. She seemed every moment to be telling us all (though I repeat that she did not utter a word), 'None of you would do the same--you would not give yourself up at the dictates of honour and duty, none of you have such a pure and delicate conscience! And as for his misdeeds, who has not evil actions upon his conscience? Only every one conceals them, and this man preferred facing ruin to remaining ignoble in his own eyes. ' This seemed to be expressed by every gesture Liza made. I don't know, but I think in her place I should have behaved almost in the same way. I don't know either whether those were the thoughts in her heart, in fact I privately suspect that they were not. With the other, clear part of her reason, she must have seen through the insignificance of her 'hero,' for who...

3. Dostoevsky. Poor Folk (English. Бедные люди). Page 4

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Часть текста: clapped their hands, and repeatedly recalled the actress in question. In fact, they went simply mad over her. Even after we had returned home they would give me no rest, but would go on talking about her all night, and calling her their Glasha, and declaring themselves to be in love with "the canary-bird of their hearts." My defenseless self, too, they would plague about the woman, for I was as young as they. What a figure I must have cut with them on the fourth tier of the gallery! Yet, I never got a sight of more than just a corner of the curtain, but had to content myself with listening. She had a fine, resounding, mellow voice like a nightingale's, and we all of us used to clap our hands loudly, and to shout at the top of our lungs. In short, we came very near to being ejected. On the first occasion I went home walking as in a mist, with a single rouble left in my pocket, and an interval of ten clear days confronting me before next pay-day. Yet, what think you, dearest? The very next day, before going to work, I called at a French perfumer's, and spent my whole remaining capital on some eau-de- Cologne and scented soap! Why I did so I do not know. Nor did I dine at home that day, but kept walking and walking past her windows (she lived in a fourth-storey flat on the Nevski Prospect). At length I returned to my own lodging, but only to rest a short hour before again setting off to the Nevski Prospect and...

4. Dostoevsky. Poor Folk (English. Бедные люди). Page 3

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Часть текста: going to die. Judge, then, how I felt yesterday! True, I may have seemed to you a little sad, and you must not be angry with me for that. Happy and light-hearted though I was, there were moments, even at the height of my felicity, when, for some unknown reason, depression came sweeping over my soul. I kept weeping about trifles, yet could not say why I was grieved. The truth is that I am unwell--so much so, that I look at everything from the gloomy point of view. The pale, clear sky, the setting sun, the evening stillness--ah, somehow I felt disposed to grieve and feel hurt at these things; my heart seemed to be over-charged, and to be calling for tears to relieve it. But why should I write this to you? It is difficult for my heart to express itself; still more difficult for it to forego self- expression. Yet possibly you may understand me. Tears and laughter! . . . How good you are, Makar Alexievitch! Yesterday you looked into my eyes as though you could read in them all that I was feeling--as though you were rejoicing at my happiness. Whether it were a group of shrubs or an alleyway or a vista of water that we were passing, you would halt before me, and stand gazing at my face as though you were showing me possessions of your own. It told me how kind is your nature, and I love you for it. Today I am again unwell, for yesterday I wetted my feet, and took a chill. Thedora also is unwell; both of us are ailing. Do not forget me. Come and see me as often as you can. --Your own, BARBARA ALEXIEVNA. June 12th. MY DEAREST BARBARA ALEXIEVNA--I had supposed that you meant to describe our doings of the other day in verse; yet from you there has arrived only a single sheet of writing. Nevertheless, I must say that, little though you have put into your letter, that little ...

5. Dostoevsky. Poor Folk (English. Бедные люди). Page 6

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Часть текста: to set aside something, lest misfortune again overtake you. Do not, for God's sake, worry yourself-- Thedora and I will get on somehow. Why have you sent me so much money? I really do not need it--what I had already would have been quite sufficient. True, I shall soon be needing further funds if I am to leave these lodgings, but Thedora is hoping before long to receive repayment of an old debt. Of course, at least TWENTY roubles will have to be set aside for indispensable requirements, but theremainder shall be returned to you. Pray take care of it, Makar Alexievitch. Now, goodbye. May your life continue peacefully, and may you preserve your health and spirits. I would have written to you at greater length had I not felt so terribly weary. Yesterday I never left my bed. I am glad that you have promised to come and see me. Yes, you MUST pay me a visit. B. D. September 11th. MY DARLING BARBARA ALEXIEVNA,--I implore you not to leave me now that I am once more happy and contented. Disregard what Thedora says, and I will do anything in the world for you. I will behave myself better, even if only out of respect for his Excellency, and guard my every action. Once more we will exchange cheerful letters with one another, and make mutual...

6. Dostoevsky. El adolecente (Spanish. Подросток)

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Часть текста: PRIMERA PARTE CAPITULO PRIMERO I Sin resistir más, empiezo (1) a escribir esta historia de mis primeros pasos en la carrera de la vida. Y sin embargo, muy bien podría pasarme sin esto. Una cosa es segura: que ya nunca más escribiré mi autobiografía, aunque tenga que vivir cien años. Hay que estar prendado muy bajamente de uno mismo para hablar así sin avergonzarse. La sola excusa que me doy, es que no escribo por el mismo motivo que todo el mundo, es decir, para obtener las alabanzas del lector. Si de repente se me ha ocurrido anotar palabra por palabra todo to que me ha pasado desde ei año anterior, es por una necesidad íntima: tan impresionado me he quedado por los hechos acaecídos! Me limito a registrar los acontecimientos, evitando con todas mis fuerzas lo que les es ajeno, y sobre todo los artificios literarios; un literato se lleva escribiendo treinta años, y al final ignora por qué ha escrito tanto tiempo. No soy literato ni quiero serlo. Arrastrar la intimidad de mi alma y una bonita descripción de mis sentimientos por el mercado literario sería a mis ojos una inconveniencia y una bajeza. Preveo no obstante, no sin disgusto, que será probablemente imposible evitar del todo las descripciones de sentimientos y las reflexiones (quizás incluso vulgares): tanto desmoraliza al hombre todo trabajo literario, hasta el emprendido únicamente para sí! Y estas reflexiones pueden aún ser muy vulgares,...

7. Dostoevsky. El adolecente (Spanish. Подросток). Tercera parte. Capítulo IV

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Часть текста: en ello, bajo la forma de una especie d'entre-filet de periódico. Lambert, mi camarada de infancia, habría podido muy bien y casi literalmente estar afiliado a esas innobles bandas de pequeños intrigantes que se asocian con objeto de lo que hoy se llama "chantage" y que caen ahora bajo el peso de ciertas definiciones y penas del código. La banda en la que participaba Lambert se había formado en Moscú y había cometido ya allí no pocas fechorías (posteriormente fueron descubiertas en parte). Supe después que en Moscú habían tenido, durante algún tiempo, a un dirigente extraordinariamente experimentado y no tonto del todo, un hombre ya maduro. Ejecutaban sus empresas, bien toda la banda junta, bien por grupos. Al lado de cosas extremadamente sucias a indecibles (de las que por otra parte se ha hablado en los periódicos), se entregaban también a empresas bastante complicadas a incluso muy sabias, bajo la dirección de su jefe. Me he enterado de algunas de ellas luego, pero no entraré en detalles. Mencionaré solamente que el rasgo más caracteristico de su actividad consistía en descubrir los secretos de hombres a veces muy honrados y colocados en alta posición; tras de lo cual, iban a visitar a esos personajes y los amenazaban con publicar ciertos documentos (que a veces no poseian en absoluto), reclamando dinero para seguir callando. Hay cosas que no son reprensibles y que de ninguna manera son criminales, pero cuya...

8. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток)

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Часть текста: be too disgustingly in love with self to be able without shame to write about oneself. I can only excuse myself on the ground that I am not writing with the same object with which other people write, that is, to win the praise of my readers. It has suddenly occurred to me to write out word for word all that has happened to me during this last year, simply from an inward impulse, because I am so impressed by all that has happened. I shall simply record the incidents, doing my utmost to exclude everything extraneous, especially all literary graces. The professional writer writes for thirty years, and is quite unable to say at the end why he has been writing for all that time. I am not a professional writer and don't want to be, and to drag forth into the literary market-place the inmost secrets of my soul and an artistic description of my feelings I should regard as indecent and contemptible. I foresee, however, with vexation, that it will be impossible to avoid describing feelings altogether and making reflections (even, perhaps, cheap ones), so corrupting is every sort of literary pursuit in its effect, even if it be undertaken only for one's own satisfaction. The reflections may indeed be very cheap, because what is of value for oneself may very well have no value for others. But all this is beside the mark. It will do for a preface, however. There will be nothing more of the sort. Let us get to work, though there is nothing more difficult than to begin upon some sorts of work--perhaps any sort of work. 2 I am beginning--or rather, I should like...

9. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток). Part III. Chapter IV

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Часть текста: a preliminary explanation of things of which I knew nothing at the time when I was taking part in them, but which I only understood and fully realized long afterwards, that is when everything was over. I don't know how else to be clear, as otherwise I should have to write the whole story in riddles. And so I will give a simple and direct explanation, sacrificing so-called artistic effect, and presenting it without any personal feelings, as though I were not writing it myself, something after the style of an entrefilet in the newspaper. The fact is that my old schoolfellow, Lambert, might well, and indeed with certainty, be said to belong to one of those disreputable gangs of petty scoundrels who form associations for the sake of what is now called chantage, an offence nowadays defined and punished by our legal code. The gang to which Lambert belonged had been formed in Moscow and had already succeeded in a good many enterprises there (it was to some extent exposed later on). I heard afterwards that they had in Moscow an extremely experienced and clever leader, a man no longer young. They embarked upon enterprises, sometimes acting...

10. Dostoevsky. Poor Folk (English. Бедные люди)

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Часть текста: to the cornice as I had suggested should be done; and it seemed to me that your dear face was glimmering at the window, and that you were looking at me from out of the darkness of your room, and that you were thinking of me. Yet how vexed I felt that I could not distinguish your sweet face clearly! For there was a time when you and I could see one another without any difficulty at all. Ah me, but old age is not always a blessing, my beloved one! At this very moment everything is standing awry to my eyes, for a man needs only to work late overnight in his writing of something or other for, in the morning, his eyes to be red, and the tears to be gushing from them in a way that makes him ashamed to be seen before strangers. However, I was able to picture to myself your beaming smile, my angel--your kind, bright smile; and in my heart there lurked just such a feeling as on the occasion when I first kissed you, my little Barbara. Do you remember that, my darling? Yet somehow you seemed to be threatening me with your tiny finger. Was it so, little wanton? You must write and tell me about it in your next letter. But what think you of the plan of the curtain, Barbara? It is a charming one, is it not? No matter whether I be at work, or about to retire to rest, or just awaking from sleep, it enables me to know that you are thinking of me, and remembering me--that you are both well and happy. Then when you lower the curtain, it means that it is time that I, Makar Alexievitch, should go to bed; and when again you raise the curtain, it means that you are saying to me, "Good morning," and asking me how I am, and whether I have slept well. "As for myself," adds the curtain, "I am altogether in good health and spirits, glory be to God!" Yes, my heart's delight, you see how easy a plan it was to devise, and how much writing it will save us! It is a clever plan, is it not? And it was my own invention, too!...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "MAKAR"

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Cлово "MAKAR"