Chapter XVI

Soon after her acquaintance with Insarov, Elena (for the fifth or sixth time) began a diary. Here are some extracts from it:

‘June. . . . Andrei Petrovitch brings me books, but I can’t read them. I’m ashamed to confess it to him; but I don’t like to give back the books, tell lies, say I have read them. I feel that would mortify¹ him. He is always watching me. He seems devoted² to me. A very good man, Andrei Petrovitch. . . . What is it I want? Why is my heart so heavy, so oppressed? Why do I watch the birds with envy as they fly past? I feel that I could fly with them, fly, where I don’t know, but far from here. And isn’t that desire sinful? I have here mother, father, home. Don’t I love them? No, I don’t love them, as I should like to love. It’s dreadful to put that in words, but it’s the truth. Perhaps I am a great sinner; perhaps that is why I am so sad, why I have no peace. Some hand seems laid on me, weighing me down, as though I were in prison, and the walls would fall on me directly. Why is it others don’t feel this? Whom shall I love, if I am cold to my own people? It’s clear, papa is right; he reproaches me for loving nothing but cats and dogs. I must think about that. I pray very little; I must pray. . . . Ah, I think I should know how to love! . . . I am still shy with Mr. Insarov. I don’t know why; I believe I’m not schoolgirlish generally, and he is so simple and kind. Sometimes he has a very serious face. He can’t give much thought to us. I feel that, and am ashamed in a way to take up his time. With Andrei Petrovitch it’s quite a different thing. I am ready to chat with him the whole day long. But he too always talks of Insarov. And such terrible facts he tells me about him! I saw him in a dream last night with a dagger³ in his hand. And he seemed to say to me, “I will kill you and I will kill myself!” What silliness!

‘Oh, if some one would say to me: “There, that’s what you must do!” Being good — isn’t much; doing good . . . yes, that’s the great thing in life. But how is one to do good? Oh, if I could learn to control myself! I don’t know why I am so often thinking of Mr. Insarov. When he comes and sits and listens intently, but makes no effort, no exertion⁴ himself, I look at him, and feel pleased, and that’s all, and when he goes, I always go over his words, and feel vexed⁵ with myself, and upset even. I can’t tell why. (He speaks French badly and isn’t ashamed of it — I like that.) I always think a lot about new people, though. As I talked to him, I suddenly was reminded of our butler, Vassily, who rescued an old cripple out of a hut that was on fire, and was almost killed himself. Papa called him a brave fellow, mamma gave him five roubles, and I felt as though I could fall at his feet. And he had a simple face — stupid-looking even — and he took to drink later on . . . .

‘I gave a penny to-day to a beggar woman, and she said to me, “Why are you so sorrowful?” I never suspected I looked sorrowful. I think it must come from being alone, always alone, for better, for worse! There is no one to stretch out a hand to me. Those who come to me, I don’t want; and those I would choose — pass me by.

‘ . . . I don’t know what’s the matter with me to-day; my head is confused, I want to fall on my knees and beg and pray for mercy. I don’t know by whom or how, but I feel as if I were being tortured, and inwardly I am shrieking⁶ in revolt; I weep and can’t be quiet. . . . O my God, subdue⁷ these outbreaks in me! Thou alone canst aid me, all else is useless; my miserable⁸ alms-giving, my studies can do nothing, nothing, nothing to help me. I should like to go out as a servant somewhere, really; that would do me good.

‘What is my youth for, what am I living for, why have I a soul, what is it all for?

‘ . . . Insarov, Mr. Insarov — upon my word I don’t know how to write — still interests me, I should like to know what he has within, in his soul? He seems so open, so easy to talk to, but I can see nothing. Sometimes he looks at me with such searching eyes — or is that my fancy? Paul keeps teasing me. I am angry with Paul. What does he want? He’s in love with me . . . but his love’s no good to me. He’s in love with Zoya too. I’m unjust to him; he told me yesterday I didn’t know how to be unjust by halves . . . that’s true. It’s very horrid⁹.

‘Ah, I feel one needs unhappiness, or poverty or sickness, or else one gets conceited¹⁰ directly.

‘ . . . What made Andrei Petrovitch tell me to-day about those two Bulgarians! He told me it as it were with some intention. What have I to do with Mr. Insarov? I feel cross with Andrei Petrovitch.

‘ . . . I take my pen and don’t know how to begin. How unexpectedly he began to talk to me in the garden to-day! How friendly and confiding¹¹ he was! How quickly it happened! As if we were old, old friends and had only just recognised each other. How could I have not understood him before? How near he is to me now! And — what’s so wonderful — I feel ever so much calmer now. It’s ludicrous; yesterday I was angry with Andrei Petrovitch, and angry with him, I even called him Mr. Insarov, and to-day . . . Here at last is a true man; some one one may depend upon. He won’t tell lies; he’s the first man I have met who never tells lies; all the others tell lies, everything’s lying. Andrei Petrovitch, dear good friend, why do I wrong you? No! Andrei Petrovitch is more learned than he is, even, perhaps more intellectual. But I don’t know, he seems so small beside him. When he speaks of his country he seems taller, and his face grows handsome, and his voice is like steel, and . . . no . . . it seems as though there were no one in the world before whom he would flinch¹². And he doesn’t only talk. . . . he has acted and he will act I shall ask him. . . . How suddenly he turned to me and smiled! . . . It’s only brothers that smile like that! Ah, how glad I am! When he came the first time, I never dreamt that we should so soon get to know each other. And now I am even pleased that I remained indifferent to him at first. Indifferent? Am I not indifferent then now? . . . It’s long since I have felt such inward peace. I feel so quiet, so quiet. And there’s nothing to write? I see him often and that’s all. What more is there to write?

‘ . . . Paul shuts himself up, Andrei Petrovitch has taken to coming less often. . . . poor fellow! I fancy he . . . But that can never be, though. I like talking to Andrei Petrovitch; never a word of self, always of something sensible, useful. Very different from Shubin. Shubin’s as fine as a butterfly, and admires his own finery; which butterflies don’t do. But both Shubin and Andrei Petrovitch ., . I know what I mean.

‘ . . . He enjoys coming to us, I see that. But why? what does he find in me? It’s true our tastes are alike; he and I, both of us don’t care for poetry; neither of us knows anything of art. But how much better he is than I! He is calm, I am in perpetual excitement; he has chosen his path, his aim — while I— where am I going? where is my home? He is calm, but all his thoughts are far away. The time will come, and he will leave us for ever, will go home, there over the sea. Well? God grant he may! Any way I shall be glad that I knew him, while he was here.

‘Why isn’t he a Russian? No, he could not be Russian.

‘Mamma too likes him; she says: an unassuming young man. Dear mamma! She does not understand him. Paul says nothing; he guessed I didn’t like his hints, but he’s jealous of him. Spiteful boy! And what right has he? Did I ever . . . All that’s nonsense! What makes all that come into my head?

‘ . . . Isn’t it strange though, that up till now, up to twenty, I have never loved any one! I believe that the reason why D.‘s (I shall call him D. — I like that name Dmitri) soul is so clear, is that he is entirely¹³ given up to his work, his ideal. What has he to trouble about? When any one has utterly¹⁴ . . . utterly . . . given himself up, he has little sorrow, he is not responsible for anything. It’s not I want, but it wants. By the way, he and I both love the same flowers. I picked a rose this morning, one leaf fell, he picked it up. . . . I gave him the whole rose.

‘ . . . D. often comes to us. Yesterday he spent the whole evening. He wants to teach me Bulgarian. I feel happy with him, quite at home, more than at home.

‘ . . . The days fly past. . . . I am happy, and somehow discontent and I am thankful to God, and tears are not far off. Oh these hot bright days!

‘ . . . I am still light-hearted as before, and only at times, and only a little, sad. I am happy. Am I happy?

‘ . . . It will be long before I forget the expedition yesterday. What strange, new, terrible impressions when he suddenly took that great giant and flung him like a ball into the water. I was not frightened . . . yet he frightened me. And afterwards — what an angry face, almost cruel! How he said, “He will swim out!” It gave me a shock. So I did not understand him. And afterwards when they all laughed, when I was laughing, how I felt for him! He was ashamed, I felt that he was ashamed before me. He told me so afterwards in the carriage in the dark, when I tried to get a good view of him and was afraid of him. Yes, he is not to be trifled with, and he is a splendid champion. But why that wicked look, those trembling lips, that angry fire in his eyes? Or is it, perhaps, inevitable¹⁵? Isn’t it possible to be a man, a hero, and to remain soft and gentle? “Life is a coarse business,” he said to me once lately. I repeated that saying to Andrei Petrovitch; he did not agree with D. Which of them is right? But the beginning of that day! How happy I was, walking beside him, even without speaking. . . . But I am glad of what happened. I see that it was quite as it should be.

‘ . . . Restlessness again . . . I am not quite well. . . . All these days I have written nothing in this book, because I have had no wish to write. I felt, whatever I write, it won’t be what is in my heart. . . . And what is in my heart? I have had a long talk with him, which revealed a great deal. He told me his plan (by the way, I know now how he got the wound in his neck. . . . Good God! when I think he was actually condemned¹⁶ to death, that he was only just saved, that he was wounded. . . . ) He prophesies¹⁷ war and will be glad of it. And for all that, I never saw D. so depressed¹⁸. What can he . . . he! . . . be depressed by? Papa arrived home from town and came upon us two. He looked rather queerly at us. Andrei Petrovitch came; I noticed he had grown very thin and pale. He reproved me, saying I behave too coldly and inconsiderately to Shubin. I had utterly forgotten Paul’s existence. I will see him, and try to smooth over my offence. He is nothing to me now . . . nor any one else in the world. Andrei Petrovitch talked to me in a sort of commiserating¹⁹ way. What does it all mean? Why is everything around me and within me so dark? I feel as if about me and within me, something mysterious were happening, for which I want to find the right word. . . . I did not sleep all night; my head aches. What’s the good of writing? He went away so quickly to-day and I wanted to talk to him. . . . He almost seems to avoid me. Yes, he avoids me.

‘ . . . The word is found, light has dawned on me! My God, have pity on me. . . . I love him!’

1 mortify   

v.克制，禁欲，使受辱

参考例句：

• The first Sunday,in particular,their behaviours served to mortify me.到了这里第一个星期，她们的行为几乎把我气死。
• For if ye live after the flesh,ye shall die:but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body,ye shall live.你们若顺从肉体活着必要死。若靠着圣灵治死身体的恶行必要活着。

2 devoted   

adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的

参考例句：

• He devoted his life to the educational cause of the motherland.他为祖国的教育事业贡献了一生。
• We devoted a lengthy and full discussion to this topic.我们对这个题目进行了长时间的充分讨论。

3 dagger   

n.匕首，短剑，剑号

参考例句：

• The bad news is a dagger to his heart.这条坏消息刺痛了他的心。
• The murderer thrust a dagger into her heart.凶手将匕首刺进她的心脏。

4 exertion   

n.尽力，努力

参考例句：

• We were sweating profusely from the exertion of moving the furniture.我们搬动家具大费气力，累得大汗淋漓。
• She was hot and breathless from the exertion of cycling uphill.由于用力骑车爬坡，她浑身发热。

5 vexed   

adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论

参考例句：

• The conference spent days discussing the vexed question of border controls. 会议花了几天的时间讨论边境关卡这个难题。
• He was vexed at his failure. 他因失败而懊恼。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》

6 shrieking   

v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 )

参考例句：

• The boxers were goaded on by the shrieking crowd. 拳击运动员听见观众的喊叫就来劲儿了。 来自《简明英汉词典》
• They were all shrieking with laughter. 他们都发出了尖锐的笑声。 来自《简明英汉词典》

7 subdue   

vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制

参考例句：

• She tried to subdue her anger.她尽力压制自己的怒火。
• He forced himself to subdue and overcome his fears.他强迫自己克制并战胜恐惧心理。

8 miserable   

adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的

参考例句：

• It was miserable of you to make fun of him.你取笑他，这是可耻的。
• Her past life was miserable.她过去的生活很苦。

9 horrid   

adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的

参考例句：

• I'm not going to the horrid dinner party.我不打算去参加这次讨厌的宴会。
• The medicine is horrid and she couldn't get it down.这种药很难吃，她咽不下去。

10 conceited   

adj.自负的，骄傲自满的

参考例句：

• He could not bear that they should be so conceited.他们这样自高自大他受不了。
• I'm not as conceited as so many people seem to think.我不像很多人认为的那么自负。

11 confiding   

adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等）

参考例句：

• The girl is of a confiding nature. 这女孩具有轻信别人的性格。 来自《现代英汉综合大词典》
• Celia, though confiding her opinion only to Andrew, disagreed. 西莉亚却不这么看，尽管她只向安德鲁吐露过。 来自辞典例句

12 flinch   

v.畏缩，退缩

参考例句：

• She won't flinch from speaking her mind.她不会讳言自己的想法。
• We will never flinch from difficulties.我们面对困难决不退缩。

13 entirely   

ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地

参考例句：

• The fire was entirely caused by their neglect of duty. 那场火灾完全是由于他们失职而引起的。
• His life was entirely given up to the educational work. 他的一生统统献给了教育工作。

14 utterly   

adv.完全地，绝对地

参考例句：

• Utterly devoted to the people,he gave his life in saving his patients.他忠于人民，把毕生精力用于挽救患者的生命。
• I was utterly ravished by the way she smiled.她的微笑使我完全陶醉了。

15 inevitable   

adj.不可避免的，必然发生的

参考例句：

• Mary was wearing her inevitable large hat.玛丽戴着她总是戴的那顶大帽子。
• The defeat had inevitable consequences for British policy.战败对英国政策不可避免地产生了影响。

16 condemned   

adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词

参考例句：

• He condemned the hypocrisy of those politicians who do one thing and say another. 他谴责了那些说一套做一套的政客的虚伪。
• The policy has been condemned as a regressive step. 这项政策被认为是一种倒退而受到谴责。

17 prophesies   

v.预告，预言( prophesy的第三人称单数 )

参考例句：

• The Frate neither rails nor prophesies against any man. 这里修士对任何人既不斥骂，也不预言。 来自辞典例句
• Whoever speaks in a tongue builds himself up, but whoever prophesies builds up the church. 那说语言的，是建立自己；那讲先知话的，却是建立教会。 来自互联网

18 depressed   

adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的

参考例句：

• When he was depressed,he felt utterly divorced from reality.他心情沮丧时就感到完全脱离了现实。
• His mother was depressed by the sad news.这个坏消息使他的母亲意志消沉。

19 commiserating   

v.怜悯，同情( commiserate的现在分词 )

参考例句：

• Tigress, far from commiserating, offered her a loan (repayable later on) to make herself more presentable. 虎妞不但不安慰小福子，反倒愿意帮她的忙：虎妞愿意拿出点资本，教她打扮齐整，挣来钱再还给她。 来自汉英文学 - 骆驼祥子
• Were they commiserating or comparing notes? 他们是在同病相怜还是在合对口供？ 来自电影对白