PART 3 // chapter 2-3

[모나리자]

그는 45분 동안 이야기를 나누었고, 끊임없이 그들의 질문에 방해를 받았고, 라스콜니코프의 생애 마지막 해에 대해 알고 있는 가장 중요한 모든 사실을 그들에게 설명하는 데 성공했으며, 그의 병에 대한 상황 설명으로 마무리했습니다. 그러나 그는 경찰서에서의 장면과 그 모든 결과를 포함하여 생략하는 것이 더 나을 많은 것을 생략했습니다. 그들은 그의 이야기를 열심히 들었고, 그가 이야기를 끝내고 청중을 만족시켰다고 생각했을 때, 그는 그들이 그가 거의 시작하지 않았다고 생각한다는 것을 알게 되었습니다. "말해 보세요, 말해 보세요! 어떻게 생각하세요...?

실례합니다. 아직 당신의 이름을 모르겠습니다!" 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나가 급히 끼어들었습니다. "드미트리 프로코피치." "저는 드미트리 프로코피치, 그가 지금 전반적으로 어떤 모습인지, 즉, 어떻게 설명할 수 있을까요? 그의 좋아하는 것과 싫어하는 것이 무엇인지 매우, 매우 알고 싶습니다. 그는 항상 그렇게 짜증이 나나요? 가능하다면 그의 희망과

꿈이 무엇인지 말해 보세요. 지금 그는 어떤 영향을 받고 있나요? 한마디로, 저는...” “어머니, 어떻게 그가 한꺼번에 다 대답할 수 있을까요?” 두니아가 말했습니다. “맙소사, 저는 그가 이런 모습일 줄은 전혀 예상하지 못했어요, 드미트리 프로코피치!” “당연하죠.” 라주미힌이 대답했습니다.

“저는 어머니가 없지만, 삼촌이 매년 찾아오는데, 거의 매번 저를 거의 알아보지 못해요. 그는 똑똑한 사람이지만, 외모도 거의 알아보지 못해요. 그리고 3년 동안 헤어진 건 정말 큰 의미가 있어요. 제가 뭐라고 말해야 할까요? 저는 로디온을 1년 반 동안 알고 지냈어요. 그는 우울하고, 침울하고, 거만하고, 거만해요. 그리고 요즘은—그리고 아마도 그 전부터도—의심스럽고 공상적이에요. 그는 고귀한 본성과 친절한 마음을 가지고 있어요. 그는 자신의 감정을 드러내는 것을 좋아하지 않고 마음을 자유롭게 여는 것보다 잔인한 짓을 하는 것을 더 좋아해요. 하지만 가끔은 전혀 병적이지 않고, 그저 차갑고 비인간적으로 무정할 때가 있다. 마치 두 인물 사이를 번갈아가며 지내는 것 같다.

가끔은 두려울 정도로 내성적이다! 그는 너무 바빠서 모든 게 방해가 된다고 말하지만, 침대에 누워 아무것도 하지 않는다. 그는 재치가 없어서가 아니라 그런 사소한 일에 시간을 허비할 시간이 없는 것처럼, 남의 말을 전혀 듣지 않는다. 그는 다른 사람이 무슨 말을 하는지 전혀 관심이 없다. 그는 자신을 매우 높게 평가하고, 어쩌면 그가 옳을지도 모른다. 글쎄, 그게 다야? 네가 온 게 그에게 가장 유익한 영향을 미칠 거라고 생각해."

"신이 허락해 주실 거야." 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나가 라주미힌이 로디아에 대해 이야기하는 것을 듣고 괴로워하며 소리쳤다. 그리고 라주미힌은 마침내 아브도티아 로마노브나를 더 대담하게 바라보았다. 그는 이야기하는 동안 종종 그녀를 쳐다보았지만, 잠깐뿐이었고, 다시 한 번 시선을 돌렸다. 아브도티아 로마노브나는 테이블에 앉아 주의 깊게 경청하다가 다시 일어나 팔짱을 끼고 입술을 다물고 이리저리 걷기 시작하면서 가끔 질문을 던지고 걸음을 멈추지 않았습니다. 그녀는 말을 듣지 않는 습관이 있었습니다.

그녀는 얇고 어두운 천으로 된 드레스를 입고 목에는 흰색 투명한 스카프를 두르고 있었습니다. 라주미힌은 곧 그들의 소지품에서 극심한 빈곤의 흔적을 발견했습니다. 아브도티아 로마노브나가 여왕처럼 차려입었다면 그는 그녀를 두려워하지 않을 것이라고 생각했지만, 아마도 그녀가 옷을 제대로 입지 않았고 주변의 모든 비참함을 알아차렸기 때문일 것입니다. 그의 마음은 공포로 가득 찼고 그는 자신이 하는 모든 말, 하는 모든 몸짓을 두려워하기 시작했습니다. 이미 자신감이 없는 사람에게는 매우 힘든 일이었습니다.

"당신은 우리에게 내 동생의 성격에 대해 흥미로운 많은 것을 말해주었고... 공평하게 말해주었습니다. 기쁩니다. 당신이 그에게 너무 비판적으로 헌신했다고 생각했습니다." 아브도티아 로마노브나는 미소를 지으며 말했습니다. 그녀는 생각에 잠긴 듯 "그에게 여성의 보살핌이 필요하다는 당신의 말이 맞는 것 같아요."라고 덧붙였다.

------------------------------------------

He talked for three quarters of an hour, being constantly interrupted by their questions, and succeeded in describing to them all the most important facts he knew of the last year of Raskolnikov’s life, concluding with a circumstantial account of his illness. He omitted, however, many things, which were better omitted, including the scene at the police station with all its consequences. They listened eagerly to his story, and, when he thought he had finished and satisfied his listeners, he found that they considered he had hardly begun. “Tell me, tell me! What do you think...?

Excuse me, I still don’t know your name!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna put in hastily. “Dmitri Prokofitch.” “I should like very, very much to know, Dmitri Prokofitch... how he looks... on things in general now, that is, how can I explain, what are his likes and dislikes? Is he always so irritable? Tell me, if you can, what are his hopes and,

so to say, his dreams? Under what influences is he now? In a word, I should like...” “Ah, mother, how can he answer all that at once?” observed Dounia. “Good heavens, I had not expected to find him in the least like this, Dmitri Prokofitch!” “Naturally,” answered Razumihin.

“I have no mother, but my uncle comes every year and almost every time he can scarcely recognise me, even in appearance, though he is a clever man; and your three years’ separation means a great deal. What am I to tell you? I have known Rodion for a year and a half; he is morose, gloomy, proud and haughty, and of late—and perhaps for a long time before—he has been suspicious and fanciful. He has a noble nature and a kind heart. He does not like showing his feelings and would rather do a cruel thing than open his heart freely. Sometimes, though, he is not at all morbid, but simply cold and inhumanly callous; it’s as though he were alternating between two characters.

Sometimes he is fearfully reserved! He says he is so busy that everything is a hindrance, and yet he lies in bed doing nothing. He doesn’t jeer at things, not because he hasn’t the wit, but as though he hadn’t time to waste on such trifles. He never listens to what is said to him. He is never interested in what interests other people at any given moment. He thinks very highly of himself and perhaps he is right. Well, what more? I think your arrival will have a most beneficial influence upon him.”

“God grant it may,” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna, distressed by Razumihin’s account of her Rodya. And Razumihin ventured to look more boldly at Avdotya Romanovna at last. He glanced at her often while he was talking, but only for a moment and looked away again at once. Avdotya Romanovna sat at the table, listening attentively, then got up again and began walking to and fro with her arms folded and her lips compressed, occasionally putting in a question, without stopping her walk. She had the same habit of not listening to what was said.

She was wearing a dress of thin dark stuff and she had a white transparent scarf round her neck. Razumihin soon detected signs of extreme poverty in their belongings. Had Avdotya Romanovna been dressed like a queen, he felt that he would not be afraid of her, but perhaps just because she was poorly dressed and that he noticed all the misery of her surroundings, his heart was filled with dread and he began to be afraid of every word he uttered, every gesture he made, which was very trying for a man who already felt diffident.

“You’ve told us a great deal that is interesting about my brother’s character... and have told it impartially. I am glad. I thought that you were too uncritically devoted to him,” observed Avdotya Romanovna with a smile. “I think you are right that he needs a woman’s care,” she added thoughtfully.