Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Raskolnikov went out feeling decidedly confused. The confusion got worse and worse. As he descended the stairs he even stopped several times, as though he had been struck by some sudden thought. And, at last, when he was out on the street, he exclaimed:
'Oh God! How loathsome all this is! And could I really, could I really...No, it's nonsensical, it's obsurd!' he added, firmly. 'Could I really ever have contemplated such a monstrous act? It shows what filth my heart is capable of. though! Yes, that's what it is: filthy, mean, vile, vile!...And for a whole month I've been...'
But he could find neither words nor exclamations with which to give voice to his disturbed state of mind. The sense of infinite loathing that had begun to crush and sicken his heart even while he had only been on his way to the old woman had now attained such dimensions and become so vividly conscious that he was quite simply overwhelmed by his depression. He moved along the pavement like a drunkard, not noticing the passers-by and knocking into them, and only recovered himself when he reached the next street. Looking round he observed that he was standing beside a drinking den, the entrance to which lay down from the pavement, at the foot of some steps, in the basement. Just at that moment two drunks emerged from the doorway and began to clamber their way up to street-level, supporting each other and cursing. Without so much as a thought, Raskolnikov went down the steps. Never before had he been a visitor to the drinking dens, but now his head was spinning and, what was more, he was parched by a burning thirst.
No comments:
Post a Comment