PART 6 // chapter 2-4

[모나리자]

"왜, 당신이 두려워하는 것은 부르주아의 굴욕인가? 당신이 그것을 모른 채 두려워하는 것일 수도 있다. 당신이 젊기 때문이다! 하지만 어쨌든 당신은 자신을 포기하고 고백하는 것을 두려워해서는 안 된다." "아, 교수형에 처해!" 라스콜니코프는 큰 소리로 말하고 싶지 않은 듯이 혐오감과 경멸에 속삭였다. 그는 떠날 생각인 듯 다시 일어났지만, 절망에 빠진 듯 다시 앉았다. "그만해, 원한다면 교수형에 처해! 당신은 믿음을 잃었고 내가 당신을 몹시 아첨한다고 생각한다. 하지만 당신의 삶은 얼마나 되었는가? 얼마나 이해하냐?

당신은 이론을 만들어냈고, 그것이 무너지고 전혀 독창적이지 않다는 것을 부끄러워했다! 그것은 저속한 것으로 밝혀졌지만, 당신은 절망적으로 저속하지 않다. 결코 그렇게 저속하지 않다! 적어도 당신은 오랫동안 자신을 속이지 않았고, 한 번에 가장 먼 지점까지 곧장 갔다. 나는 당신을 어떻게 생각하니? 나는 당신이 고문자가 내장을 잘라내는 동안 서서 미소를 지을 사람 중 한 명이라고 생각합니다. 그들이 신앙이나 신을 찾았다면 말입니다. 찾으면 살 수 있을 겁니다.

당신은 오랫동안 공기의 변화가 필요했습니다. 고통도 좋은 일입니다. 고통받으세요! 니콜라이가 고통받고 싶어하는 게 옳을지도 모릅니다. 당신이 그것을 믿지 않는다는 건 알지만, 너무 현명하지 마세요. 생각 없이 바로 삶에 뛰어드세요. 두려워하지 마세요. 홍수가 당신을 강둑으로 끌고 가서 다시 안전하게 일어설 수 있게 해줄 겁니다. 어떤 강둑? 어떻게 알 수 있을까요? 나는 당신이 앞으로 오래 살 것이라고 믿습니다. 당신은 지금 내 말을 미리 준비한 연설로 여기지만, 나중에 기억할지도 모릅니다. 언젠가는 유용할지도 모릅니다. 그래서 말하는 겁니다.

당신이 늙은 여자만 죽인 게 다행입니다. 다른 이론을 만들어냈다면 천 배나 더 끔찍한 짓을 했을지도 모릅니다. 신께 감사해야 할 겁니다.

아마도. 어떻게 아십니까? 아마도 신이 당신을 무언가를 위해 구하고 계실지도 모릅니다. 하지만 좋은 마음을 유지하고 두려움을 덜 가지십시오! 당신 앞에 있는 위대한 속죄를 두려워하십니까? 아니요, 그것을 두려워하는 것은 부끄러운 일입니다. 당신이 그런 발걸음을 내딛었으므로, 당신은 마음을 굳건히 해야 합니다. 거기에는 정의가 있습니다. 당신은 정의의 요구를 충족해야 합니다.

당신이 그것을 믿지 않는다는 것을 압니다. 하지만 실제로 인생은 당신을 이끌어 줄 것입니다. 당신은 시간이 지나면 그것을 살아낼 것입니다. 지금 당신에게 필요한 것은 신선한 공기, 신선한 공기, 신선한 공기입니다!" 라스콜니코프가 긍정적으로 시작했습니다. "하지만 당신은 누구입니까? 당신은 어떤 예언자입니까? 어떤 위엄 있는 평온함의 높이에서 당신은 이 지혜의 말씀을 선포합니까?" "나는 누구입니까? 나는 바랄 것이 아무것도 없는 사람입니다. 그게 다입니다. 아마도 감정과 동정심이 있는 사람일 수도 있고, 아마도 약간의 지식도 있을 수도 있지만, 나의 하루는 끝났습니다. 하지만 당신은 다른 문제입니다. 당신을 기다리는 삶이 있습니다.

하지만 누가 알겠어? 어쩌면 네 인생도 연기처럼 사라지고 아무것도 되지 않을지도 몰라. 자, 네가 다른 계층의 인간으로 전락하는 게 뭐가 중요해? 네 마음으로 후회하는 건 위안이 아니야! 아무도 너를 오랫동안 보지 못할지도 모른다고 해서 어때? 시간이 아니라 네가 결정할 거야. 태양이 되면 모두가 너를 볼 거야. 태양은 모든 것보다 먼저 태양이어야 해. 왜 또 웃어? 내가 쉴러 같은 놈인 걸 보고? 내가 아첨으로 널 속이려 한다고 생각하는 거야. 글쎄, 그럴지도 몰라, 하하하! 내 말을 믿지 않는 게 나을지도 몰라, 아예 믿지 않는 게 나을지도 몰라—난 그렇게 만들어졌어, 고백할게.

하지만 덧붙이자면, 내가 얼마나 천한 인간인지, 얼마나 정직한지는 네가 직접 판단할 수 있을 거야."

"언제 날 체포할 거야?" "글쎄, 널 하루나 이틀 더 돌아다닐 수 있게 해줄게. 생각해 보세요, 친구야, 그리고 신께 기도해. 그게 당신에게 더 이익이 될 거야, 믿어." "그리고 내가 도망간다면?" 라스콜니코프가 이상한 미소를 지으며 물었다. "아니, 당신은 도망가지 않을 거야. 농부는 도망갈 거고, 유행하는 반대자는 도망갈 거고, 다른 사람의 생각의 졸개는 도망갈 거야. 왜냐하면 당신은 그에게 당신의 새끼손가락 끝만 보여주면 그는 평생 무엇이든 믿을 준비가 될 테니까. 하지만 당신은 이미 당신의 이론을 믿지 않게 되었으니, 무엇을 가지고 도망갈 거야?

그리고 숨어서 뭘 할 거야? 그것은 당신에게 증오스럽고 어려울 거고, 인생에서 무엇보다도 필요한 건 확실한 위치, 당신에게 맞는 분위기야. 그리고 어떤 분위기를 가질 거야? 도망간다면, 당신은 본래의 모습으로 돌아올 거야. 우리 없이는 살아갈 수 없어. 그리고 내가 당신을 감옥에 가둔다면—예를 들어 한 달, 두 달, 세 달 동안 거기에 있었다고 하더라도—내 말을 기억해, 당신은 스스로를 자백할 거고, 어쩌면 당신도 놀랄 거야. 당신은 고백을 하러 온다는 것을 한 시간 전에는 모를 겁니다. 당신은 '고통을 겪기로' 결심할 거라고 확신합니다.

지금은 내 말을 믿지 않겠지만, 스스로 깨닫게 될 겁니다. 고통은 위대한 일이니까요, 로디온 로마노비치. 내가 살찐 건 상관없어요. 다 알아요. 웃지 마세요. 고통에는 생각이 있어요, 노콜라이가 옳아요. 아니, 도망치지 않을 거예요, 로디온 로마노비치." 라스콜니코프는 일어나 모자를 받았습니다. 포르피리 페트로비치도 일어났습니다.

"산책하러 가세요? 폭풍만 없다면 저녁은 괜찮을 거예요. 하지만 공기를 상쾌하게 하는 건 좋은 일이겠죠." 그도 모자를 받았습니다. "포르피리 페트로비치, 오늘 내가 당신에게 고백했다는 생각은 하지 마세요."

라스콜니코프가 침울하게 고집하며 말했습니다. "당신은 이상한 사람이고 나는 단순한 호기심 때문에 당신의 말을 들었습니다. 하지만 나는 아무것도 인정하지 않았습니다. 기억하세요!" "아, 알아요. 기억할게요. 그를 보세요. 떨고 있어요! 불안해하지 마세요, 내 친구야, 당신 마음대로 하세요. 조금 걸어보세요. 너무 멀리 걸을 수는 없을 거예요. 무슨 일이 생기면, 당신에게 부탁할 게 하나 있어요." 그는 목소리를 낮추며 덧붙였다.

"어색하지만 중요한 부탁이에요. 무슨 일이 생긴다면 (물론 저는 그것을 믿지 않고 당신이 그것을 할 수 없다고 생각하지만), 만약 당신이 이 40~50시간 동안 다른 방식으로, 환상적인 방식으로 사업을 끝내려는 생각에 사로잡혔다면—자신에게 손을 얹는 것—(터무니없는 제안이지만, 용서해 주세요) 간단하지만 정확한 메모를 두 줄만 남기고 돌에 대해 언급하세요. 더 관대한 말이 될 거예요.

만나러 올 때까지 오세요! 좋은 생각과 건전한 결정을 내리시길 바랍니다!" 포르피리는 몸을 굽히고 라스콜니코프를 보지 않으려고 나갔다. 라스콜니코프는 창문으로 가서 포르피리가 거리에 도착해서 떠났다는 것을 계산할 때까지 짜증스럽게 참았다. 그러고 나서 그도 서둘러 방에서 나갔다.

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“Why, is it the bourgeois disgrace you are afraid of? It may be that you are afraid of it without knowing it, because you are young! But anyway you shouldn’t be afraid of giving yourself up and confessing.” “Ach, hang it!” Raskolnikov whispered with loathing and contempt, as though he did not want to speak aloud. He got up again as though he meant to go away, but sat down again in evident despair. “Hang it, if you like! You’ve lost faith and you think that I am grossly flattering you; but how long has your life been? How much do you understand?

You made up a theory and then were ashamed that it broke down and turned out to be not at all original! It turned out something base, that’s true, but you are not hopelessly base. By no means so base! At least you didn’t deceive yourself for long, you went straight to the furthest point at one bound. How do I regard you? I regard you as one of those men who would stand and smile at their torturer while he cuts their entrails out, if only they have found faith or God. Find it and you will live.

You have long needed a change of air. Suffering, too, is a good thing. Suffer! Maybe Nikolay is right in wanting to suffer. I know you don’t believe in it—but don’t be over-wise; fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid—the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again. What bank? How can I tell? I only believe that you have long life before you. I know that you take all my words now for a set speech prepared beforehand, but maybe you will remember them after. They may be of use some time. That’s why I speak.

It’s as well that you only killed the old woman. If you’d invented another theory you might perhaps have done something a thousand times more hideous. You ought to thank God,

perhaps. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something. But keep a good heart and have less fear! Are you afraid of the great expiation before you? No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it. Since you have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justice in it. You must fulfil the demands of justice.

I know that you don’t believe it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live it down in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!” Raskolnikov positively started. “But who are you? what prophet are you? From the height of what majestic calm do you proclaim these words of wisdom?” “Who am I? I am a man with nothing to hope for, that’s all. A man perhaps of feeling and sympathy, maybe of some knowledge too, but my day is over. But you are a different matter, there is life waiting for you.

Though, who knows? maybe your life, too, will pass off in smoke and come to nothing. Come, what does it matter, that you will pass into another class of men? It’s not comfort you regret, with your heart! What of it that perhaps no one will see you for so long? It’s not time, but yourself that will decide that. Be the sun and all will see you. The sun has before all to be the sun. Why are you smiling again? At my being such a Schiller? I bet you’re imagining that I am trying to get round you by flattery. Well, perhaps I am, he-he-he! Perhaps you’d better not believe my word, perhaps you’d better never believe it altogether—I’m made that way, I confess it.

But let me add, you can judge for yourself, I think, how far I am a base sort of man and how far I am honest.”

“When do you mean to arrest me?” “Well, I can let you walk about another day or two. Think it over, my dear fellow, and pray to God. It’s more in your interest, believe me.” “And what if I run away?” asked Raskolnikov with a strange smile. “No, you won’t run away. A peasant would run away, a fashionable dissenter would run away, the flunkey of another man’s thought, for you’ve only to show him the end of your little finger and he’ll be ready to believe in anything for the rest of his life. But you’ve ceased to believe in your theory already, what will you run away with?

And what would you do in hiding? It would be hateful and difficult for you, and what you need more than anything in life is a definite position, an atmosphere to suit you. And what sort of atmosphere would you have? If you ran away, you’d come back to yourself. You can’t get on without us. And if I put you in prison—say you’ve been there a month, or two, or three—remember my word, you’ll confess of yourself and perhaps to your own surprise. You won’t know an hour beforehand that you are coming with a confession. I am convinced that you will decide, ‘to take your suffering.’

You don’t believe my words now, but you’ll come to it of yourself. For suffering, Rodion Romanovitch, is a great thing. Never mind my having grown fat, I know all the same. Don’t laugh at it, there’s an idea in suffering, Nokolay is right. No, you won’t run away, Rodion Romanovitch.” Raskolnikov got up and took his cap. Porfiry Petrovitch also rose.

“Are you going for a walk? The evening will be fine, if only we don’t have a storm. Though it would be a good thing to freshen the air.” He, too, took his cap. “Porfiry Petrovitch, please don’t take up the notion that I have confessed to you to-day,”

Raskolnikov pronounced with sullen insistence. “You’re a strange man and I have listened to you from simple curiosity. But I have admitted nothing, remember that!” “Oh, I know that, I’ll remember. Look at him, he’s trembling! Don’t be uneasy, my dear fellow, have it your own way. Walk about a bit, you won’t be able to walk too far. If anything happens, I have one request to make of you,” he added, dropping his voice.

“It’s an awkward one, but important. If anything were to happen (though indeed I don’t believe in it and think you quite incapable of it), yet in case you were taken during these forty or fifty hours with the notion of putting an end to the business in some other way, in some fantastic fashion—laying hands on yourself—(it’s an absurd proposition, but you must forgive me for it) do leave a brief but precise note, only two lines, and mention the stone. It will be more generous.

Come, till we meet! Good thoughts and sound decisions to you!” Porfiry went out, stooping and avoiding looking at Raskolnikov. The latter went to the window and waited with irritable impatience till he calculated that Porfiry had reached the street and moved away. Then he too went hurriedly out of the room.

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