ANNA KARENINA (Collector's Edition). Leo Tolstoy
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Название: ANNA KARENINA (Collector's Edition)
Автор: Leo Tolstoy
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 9788027218875
isbn:
‘Ah! Kostya!’ he said suddenly, recognizing his brother, and his eyes lit up with joy. But at the same moment he turned to look at the young man and convulsively jerked his head and neck as if his necktie were strangling him, a movement Levin knew well, and quite another expression — a wild, suffering, and cruel look — settled on his haggard face.
‘I wrote both to you and to Sergius Ivanich that I do not know you and do not wish to know you. What is it? What do you want?’
He was not at all as Constantine had imagined him. Constantine when thinking of him had forgotten the most trying and worst part of his character, that which made intercourse with him so difficult; but now when he saw his face, and especially that convulsive movement of his head, he remembered it all.
‘I do not want anything of you specially,’ he answered meekly; ‘I have simply come to see you.’
His brother’s timidity obviously softened Nicholas, whose lips quivered.
‘Ah! You have come just for that?’ he said. ‘Well, come in, sit down. Will you have some supper? Masha, get supper for three. No, wait a little. Do you know who this is?’ he added, turning to his brother and pointing to the man in the workman’s coat. ‘It is Mr. Kritsky, my friend ever since my Kiev days, a very remarkable fellow. Of course the police are after him, because he is not a scoundrel.’
And he glanced round at everybody present as was his way. Seeing that the woman in the doorway was about to go out he shouted to her: ‘Wait, I told you,’ and in the awkward and blundering manner familiar to Constantine, he again looked round at everybody, and began to tell his brother about Kritsky: how he had been expelled from the University because he had started a society to help the poorer students, and also Sunday schools, and how he had afterwards taught in an elementary school, and had been turned out from that too, and had then been tried on some charge or other.
‘You were at Kiev University?’ Constantine Levin asked Kritsky, in order to break the awkward silence that followed.
‘Yes, at Kiev,’ Kritsky replied with an angry frown.
‘And this woman,’ said Nicholas Levin, interrupting him, and pointing to her, ‘is my life’s companion, Mary Nikolavna; I took her out of a house …’ and as he said this he again jerked his neck. ‘But I love and respect her and beg all those who wish to know me,’ he added, raising his voice and scowling, ‘to love and respect her. She is just the same to me as a wife, just the same. So now you know whom you have to deal with, and if you fear you will be degraded — there is the door.’
And again his eyes glanced questioningly around.
‘Why should I be degraded? I don’t understand.’
‘Well, Masha, order supper for three, with vodka and wine… . No, wait. No, never mind… . You may go.’
Chapter 25
‘SO you see, …’ Nicholas Levin continued with an effort, wrinkling his brow and twitching.
He evidently found it hard to decide what to say and to do.
‘Do you see …’he pointed to a bundle of iron rods tied together with string, in a corner of the room. ‘Do you see that? It is the beginning of a new business we are undertaking. The business is to be a Productive Association …’
Constantine hardly listened. He kept glancing at his brother’s sickly, consumptive face, and felt more and more sorry for him, nor could he force himself to pay attention to what Nicholas was telling him about the Association. He realized that this Association was merely an anchor to save his brother from self-contempt. Nicholas Levin continued speaking:
‘You know that capitalism oppresses the workers. Our workmen the peasants bear the whole burden of labour, but are so placed that, work as they may, they cannot escape from their degrading condition. All the profits on their labour, by which they might better their condition, give themselves some leisure, and consequently gain some education, all this surplus value is taken away by the capitalists. And our society has so shaped itself that the more the people work the richer the merchants and landowners will become, while the people will remain beasts of burden for ever. And this system must be changed,’ he concluded, with an inquiring look at his brother.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Constantine, looking intently at the hectic flush which had appeared on his brother’s face below its prominent cheek bones.
‘And so we are starting a Locksmiths’ Association, in which all the products and the profits and, above all, the instruments of production will be common property.’
‘Where will the business be?’ asked Constantine.
‘In the village of Vozdrema, Kazan Government.’
‘Why in a village? It seems to me there is plenty of work to do in the country as it is. Why start a Locksmiths’ Association there?’
‘Because the peasants are still just as much slaves as they used to be, and that is why you and Sergius Ivanich don’t like it when anyone wishes to deliver them from their slavery,’ replied Nicholas Levin, irritated by Constantine’s objection.
Constantine sighed and at the same time looked round the room which was dismal and dirty. The sigh seemed to irritate Nicholas still more.
‘I know your aristocratic outlook and Sergius Ivanich’s. I know that he uses all the powers of his mind to justify the existing evils.’
‘But why talk about Sergius Ivanich?’ said Levin with a smile.
‘Sergius Ivanich? This is why!’ suddenly shouted Nicholas at the mention of the name. ‘This is why… . But what is the good of talking? One thing only… . Why have you come here? You despise it, well, that is all right — then go away. Go, go in God’s name!’ he exclaimed, rising from his chair. ‘Go, go!’
‘I do not despise it at all,’ Constantine replied meekly. ‘I do not even dispute it.’
Meanwhile Mary Nikolavna had come back. Nicholas gave her an angry look. She hurried up to him and said something in a whisper.
‘I am not well and have grown irritable,’ said Nicholas, breathing heavily and quieting down. ‘And you talk to me about Sergius Ivanich and his article. It is such rubbish, such humbug, such self-deception. What can a man write about justice, who does not understand it?’
‘Have you read his article?’ he said, turning to Kritsky again, sitting down to the table and clearing away from it a heap of half-filled cigarettes to make room.
‘I have not read it,’ said Kritsky morosely, evidently not wishing to join in the conversation.
‘Why not?’ irritably answered Nicholas, still addressing Kritsky.
‘Because I consider it unnecessary to СКАЧАТЬ