PART 5 // chapter 5-1

[모나리자]

레베지아트니코프는 당황한 듯 보였다. "저는 당신에게 왔습니다, 소피아 세묘노브나." 그가 말을 시작했다. "실례합니다... 당신을 찾아야겠다고 생각했습니다." 그는 갑자기 라스콜니코프에게 말을 걸었다. "즉, 저는 그런 뜻이 아니었습니다... 하지만 저는 그저... 카테리나 이바노브나가 정신이 나갔다고 생각했습니다." 그는 갑자기 라스콜니코프에서 소냐에게로 돌아서며 말했다. 소냐는 비명을 질렀다. "적어도 그렇게 보입니다. 하지만... 우리는 무엇을 해야 할지 모릅니다! 그녀가 돌아왔습니다. 어딘가에 쫓겨난 것 같습니다. 아마도 구타당한 것 같습니다... 그래서 적어도... 그녀는 당신 아버지의 전직 수장에게 달려갔지만, 집에서 그를 찾지 못했습니다. 그는 다른 장군의 집에서 저녁을 먹고 있었습니다.... 그저 상상일 뿐, 그녀는 그곳으로, 다른 장군의 집으로 달려갔고, 상상해보세요. 그녀는 너무 끈기 있게 수장을 만나게 했고, 그를 저녁 식사에서 데려온 것 같습니다.

무슨 일이 일어났는지 상상해보세요. 물론 그녀는 쫓겨났지만, 그녀 자신의 이야기에 따르면 그녀는 그를 학대하고

그에게 무언가를 던졌습니다. 믿을 수도 있을 것입니다.... 그녀가 어떻게 잡히지 않았는지 이해할 수 없습니다! 이제 그녀는 아말리아 이바노브나를 포함한 모든 사람에게 말하고 있습니다. 하지만 그녀를 이해하기 어렵습니다. 그녀는 비명을 지르고 몸을 던지고 있습니다.... 오, 그녀는 모두가 그녀를 버렸기 때문에 아이들을 데리고 통 오르간을 들고 거리로 나가서 아이들이 노래하고 춤출 것이고 그녀도 돈을 모아서 매일 장군의 창문 아래로 갈 것이라고 소리칩니다... '모든 사람이 거리에서 구걸하는 아버지를 둔 훌륭한 아이들을 보게 하기 위해서입니다.' 그녀는 계속해서 아이들을 때리고 아이들은 모두 울고 있습니다.

그녀는 리다에게 '나의 마을'을 부르도록 가르치고, 소년에게 춤을 추도록 가르치고, 폴렌카에게도 가르칩니다. 그녀는 모든 옷을 찢어서 배우처럼 작은 모자를 만들고 있습니다. 그녀는 음악 대신 주석 대야를 들고 가서 딸랑거리게 하려고 합니다... 그녀는 아무것도 듣지 않을 겁니다... 상황을 상상해 보세요! 아무것도 아닙니다!" 레베지아트니코프는 계속 말하고 싶었지만, 그의 말을 거의 숨가쁘게 들은 소냐는 망토와 모자를 낚아채고 방에서 달려나가면서 옷을 입었습니다. 라스콜니코프가 그녀를 따라갔고 레베지아트니코프도 그를 따라왔습니다.

"그녀는 확실히 미쳤어요!" 그는 거리로 나가면서 라스콜니코프에게 말했습니다. "소피아 세묘노브나를 놀라게 하고 싶지 않아서 '그럴 것 같아요'라고 말했지만, 의심할 여지가 없습니다. 그들은 소모증에서 때때로 뇌에 결핵이 생긴다고 합니다. 의학에 대해 전혀 모르는 것이 유감입니다. 그녀를 설득하려고 했지만, 그녀는 듣지 않았습니다." "그녀에게 결핵에 대해 이야기했어요?" "정확히 결핵에 대해 이야기한 것은 아닙니다. 게다가 그녀는 이해하지 못했을 겁니다!

하지만 제가 말하고 싶은 건, 만약 당신이 어떤 사람을 논리적으로 설득해서 울 일이 없다고 한다면, 그는 울음을 멈출 거라는 겁니다.

그건 분명합니다. 그가 울지 않을 거라고 확신하는 게 당신의 확신인가요?" "그렇다면 인생이 너무 쉬울 겁니다." 라스콜니코프가 대답했다. "실례합니다, 실례합니다. 물론 카테리나 이바노브나가 이해하기는 어려울 겁니다. 하지만 파리에서 미친 사람을 논리적인 논증만으로 치료할 가능성에 대한 심각한 실험을 하고 있다는 걸 아십니까? 그곳에서 과학자로 명성을 떨치던 한 교수가 얼마 전 세상을 떠났는데, 그런 치료가 가능하다고 믿었습니다. 그는 미친 사람의 신체 기관에는 실제로 아무런 문제가 없고, 미친 것은 말하자면 논리적인 실수, 판단 오류, 사물에 대한 잘못된 관점이라고 생각했습니다. 그는 점차 미친 사람에게 자신의 오류를 보여주었고, 믿을 수 있겠습니까? 그들은 그가 성공했다고 말하죠? 하지만 그는 관장도 했기 때문에 그 치료가 얼마나 성공적이었는지는 불확실합니다... 적어도 그렇게 보입니다."

라스콜니코프는 오래 전부터 듣지 않았습니다. 그가 살고 있는 집에 도착하자, 그는 레베지아트니코프에게 고개를 끄덕이고 문으로 들어갔다. 레베지아트니코프는 깜짝 놀라 깨어나 주변을 둘러보고 서둘러 걸어갔다. 라스콜니코프는 작은 방으로 들어가서 방 한가운데에 꼼짝 않고 서 있었다. 왜 여기로 돌아왔을까? 그는 노랗고 해진 종이, 먼지, 소파를 바라보았다... 마당에서 큰 소리가 계속 울렸다. 누군가가 망치질을 하는 듯했다... 그는 창문으로 가서 발끝으로 일어나 오랫동안 주의를 기울인 듯한 표정으로 마당을 내다보았다. 하지만 마당은 텅 비어 있었고 누가 망치질을 하는지 볼 수 없었다.

왼쪽에 있는 집에서 그는 열린 창문을 보았다. 창틀에는 병들어 보이는 제라늄 화분이 있었다. 린넨이 창문에 걸려 있었다... 그는 그것을 모두 외웠다. 그는 돌아서서 소파에 앉았다. 그는 결코, 결코 그렇게 두려울 정도로 혼자라고 느낀 적이 없었다! 그렇다, 그는 다시 한번 소냐를 미워하게 될 것 같았다. 이제 그녀를 더 비참하게 만들었으니까. "왜 그녀에게 가서 눈물을 구걸했을까? 왜 그녀의 삶을 독살할 필요가 있었을까? 오, 얼마나 비열한가!" "나는 혼자 남을 거야." 그는 단호하게 말했다. "그리고 그녀는 감옥에 오지 않을 거야!"

5분 후 그는 이상한 미소를 지으며 고개를 들었다. 이상한 생각이었다. "아마도 시베리아가 더 나을 거야." 그는 갑자기 생각했다. 그는 얼마나 오랫동안 거기에 앉아 막연한 생각이 머릿속을 맴돌았는지 말할 수 없었다. 문이 갑자기 열리고 두니아가 들어왔다. 처음에는 그녀가 움직이지 않고 문간에서 그를 바라보았다. 그가 소니아에게 한 것처럼 말이다. 그런 다음 들어와서 어제와 같은 자리에, 그를 마주보는 의자에 앉았다. 그는 그녀를 조용히, 거의 공허하게 바라보았다. "화내지 마, 형님. 잠깐 온 거야." 두니아가 말했다. 그녀의 얼굴은 생각에 잠긴 듯했지만 엄숙하지는 않았다.

그녀의 눈은 밝고 부드러웠다. 그는 그녀도 사랑으로 그에게 다가왔다는 것을 알았다. "형님, 이제 다 알아요. 드미트리 프로코피치가 모든 것을 설명하고 말해줬어요. 그들은 어리석고 경멸스러운 의심으로 당신을 걱정시키고 괴롭힙니다.... 드미트리 프로코피치는 위험이 없다고 말했고, 당신이 그것을 그렇게 공포에 질려 바라보는 것은 잘못이라고 했습니다. 저는 그렇게 생각하지 않고, 당신이 얼마나 분노하고 있는지 충분히 이해하며, 그 분노가 당신에게 영구적인 영향을 미칠 수도 있다는 것을 이해합니다.

그게 내가 두려운 거야. 네가 우리와 단절되는 것에 대해선, 나는 너를 판단하지 않아, 너를 판단할 생각도 없고, 너를 비난한 걸 용서해. 나도 그렇게 큰 문제가 있다면 모든 사람과 거리를 두어야 할 것 같아. 나는 어머니에게 이 사실을 말하지 않겠지만, 너에 대해 계속 이야기하고 곧 올 거라고 네 말을 전해 줄게. 어머니 걱정하지 마. 내가 그녀의 마음을 편안하게 해 줄게. 하지만 너무 애쓰지 마. 적어도 한 번은 와. 그녀가 네 어머니라는 걸 기억해.

그리고 지금 나는 그저 말하고 싶어서 왔어" (두니아가 일어나기 시작했다) "네가 나를 필요로 하거나... 평생이나 뭐든... 필요하다면 전화해. 내가 갈게. 안녕!" 그녀는 갑자기 돌아서서 문 쪽으로 갔다. "두니아!" 라스콜니코프가 그녀를 막고 그녀에게 다가갔다. "그 라주미힌, 드미트리 프로코피치는 아주 좋은 사람이야." 두니아가 약간 붉어졌다. "음?" 그녀는 잠시 기다리며 물었다. "그는 유능하고, 근면하고, 정직하고, 진정한 사랑을 할 줄 아는 사람입니다... 안녕, 두니아." 두니아는 붉게 상기된 얼굴로 얼굴을 붉혔다가 갑자기 깜짝 놀랐다. "하지만 그게 무슨 뜻이에요, 형님? 당신이... 저에게 그런 이별 인사를 하다니, 우리가 영원히 헤어지는 건가요?" "괜찮아요... 안녕."

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CHAPTER V

Lebeziatnikov looked perturbed. “I’ve come to you, Sofya Semyonovna,” he began. “Excuse me... I thought I should find you,” he said, addressing Raskolnikov suddenly, “that is, I didn’t mean anything... of that sort... But I just thought... Katerina Ivanovna has gone out of her mind,” he blurted out suddenly, turning from Raskolnikov to Sonia. Sonia screamed. “At least it seems so. But... we don’t know what to do, you see! She came back—she seems to have been turned out somewhere, perhaps beaten.... So it seems at least,... She had run to your father’s former chief, she didn’t find him at home: he was dining at some other general’s.... Only fancy, she rushed off there, to the other general’s, and, imagine, she was so persistent that she managed to get the chief to see her, had him fetched out from dinner, it seems.

You can imagine what happened. She was turned out, of course; but, according to her own story, she abused him and threw

something at him. One may well believe it.... How it is she wasn’t taken up, I can’t understand! Now she is telling everyone, including Amalia Ivanovna; but it’s difficult to understand her, she is screaming and flinging herself about.... Oh yes, she shouts that since everyone has abandoned her, she will take the children and go into the street with a barrel-organ, and the children will sing and dance, and she too, and collect money, and will go every day under the general’s window... ‘to let everyone see well-born children, whose father was an official, begging in the street.’ She keeps beating the children and they are all crying.

She is teaching Lida to sing ‘My Village,’ the boy to dance, Polenka the same. She is tearing up all the clothes, and making them little caps like actors; she means to carry a tin basin and make it tinkle, instead of music.... She won’t listen to anything.... Imagine the state of things! It’s beyond anything!” Lebeziatnikov would have gone on, but Sonia, who had heard him almost breathless, snatched up her cloak and hat, and ran out of the room, putting on her things as she went. Raskolnikov followed her and Lebeziatnikov came after him.

“She has certainly gone mad!” he said to Raskolnikov, as they went out into the street. “I didn’t want to frighten Sofya Semyonovna, so I said ‘it seemed like it,’ but there isn’t a doubt of it. They say that in consumption the tubercles sometimes occur in the brain; it’s a pity I know nothing of medicine. I did try to persuade her, but she wouldn’t listen.” “Did you talk to her about the tubercles?” “Not precisely of the tubercles. Besides, she wouldn’t have understood!

But what I say is, that if you convince a person logically that he has nothing to cry about, he’ll stop crying.

That’s clear. Is it your conviction that he won’t?” “Life would be too easy if it were so,” answered Raskolnikov. “Excuse me, excuse me; of course it would be rather difficult for Katerina Ivanovna to understand, but do you know that in Paris they have been conducting serious experiments as to the possibility of curing the insane, simply by logical argument? One professor there, a scientific man of standing, lately dead, believed in the possibility of such treatment. His idea was that there’s nothing really wrong with the physical organism of the insane, and that insanity is, so to say, a logical mistake, an error of judgment, an incorrect view of things. He gradually showed the madman his error and, would you believe it, they say he was successful? But as he made use of douches too, how far success was due to that treatment remains uncertain.... So it seems at least.”

Raskolnikov had long ceased to listen. Reaching the house where he lived, he nodded to Lebeziatnikov and went in at the gate. Lebeziatnikov woke up with a start, looked about him and hurried on. Raskolnikov went into his little room and stood still in the middle of it. Why had he come back here? He looked at the yellow and tattered paper, at the dust, at his sofa.... From the yard came a loud continuous knocking; someone seemed to be hammering... He went to the window, rose on tiptoe and looked out into the yard for a long time with an air of absorbed attention. But the yard was empty and he could not see who was hammering.

In the house on the left he saw some open windows; on the window-sills were pots of sickly-looking geraniums. Linen was hung out of the windows... He knew it all by heart. He turned away and sat down on the sofa. Never, never had he felt himself so fearfully alone! Yes, he felt once more that he would perhaps come to hate Sonia, now that he had made her more miserable. “Why had he gone to her to beg for her tears? What need had he to poison her life? Oh, the meanness of it!” “I will remain alone,” he said resolutely, “and she shall not come to the prison!”

Five minutes later he raised his head with a strange smile. That was a strange thought. “Perhaps it really would be better in Siberia,” he thought suddenly. He could not have said how long he sat there with vague thoughts surging through his mind. All at once the door opened and Dounia came in. At first she stood still and looked at him from the doorway, just as he had done at Sonia; then she came in and sat down in the same place as yesterday, on the chair facing him. He looked silently and almost vacantly at her. “Don’t be angry, brother; I’ve only come for one minute,” said Dounia. Her face looked thoughtful but not stern.

Her eyes were bright and soft. He saw that she too had come to him with love. “Brother, now I know all, all. Dmitri Prokofitch has explained and told me everything. They are worrying and persecuting you through a stupid and contemptible suspicion.... Dmitri Prokofitch told me that there is no danger, and that you are wrong in looking upon it with such horror. I don’t think so, and I fully understand how indignant you must be, and that that indignation may have a permanent effect on you.

That’s what I am afraid of. As for your cutting yourself off from us, I don’t judge you, I don’t venture to judge you, and forgive me for having blamed you for it. I feel that I too, if I had so great a trouble, should keep away from everyone. I shall tell mother nothing of this, but I shall talk about you continually and shall tell her from you that you will come very soon. Don’t worry about her; I will set her mind at rest; but don’t you try her too much—come once at least; remember that she is your mother.

And now I have come simply to say” (Dounia began to get up) “that if you should need me or should need... all my life or anything... call me, and I’ll come. Good-bye!” She turned abruptly and went towards the door. “Dounia!” Raskolnikov stopped her and went towards her. “That Razumihin, Dmitri Prokofitch, is a very good fellow.” Dounia flushed slightly. “Well?” she asked, waiting a moment. “He is competent, hardworking, honest and capable of real love.... Good-bye, Dounia.” Dounia flushed crimson, then suddenly she took alarm. “But what does it mean, brother? Are we really parting for ever that you... give me such a parting message?” “Never mind.... Good-bye.”