PART I // chapter 4-3

[모나리자]

하지만 어머니? 다 로디아, 소중한 로디아, 그녀의 첫째아들이야! 그런 딸을 희생하지 않는 그런 아들을 위해! 오, 사랑스럽고 편파적인 마음이여! 왜, 그를 위해서라도 우리는 소냐의 운명에서 물러나지 않을 거야. 소냐, 소냐 마르멜라도프, 세상이 지속되는 한 영원한 희생자야.

너희 둘 다 너희 희생의 척도를 정했니? 옳은가? 견딜 수 있니? 쓸모가 있니? 의미가 있니? 그리고 두냐, 소냐의 삶은 루진 씨와 함께 사는 삶보다 나쁘지 않다고 말해. '사랑에 대한 의문은 있을 수 없어.' 어머니가 쓴다. 그리고 만약 존경심도 없다면, 반대로 혐오감, 경멸, 반발이 있다면, 그럼 어떡하지? 그러면 너희도 '겉모습을 유지해야' 할 거야. 그렇지 않니? 그 똑똑함이 무슨 뜻인지 알겠니?

루진의 똑똑함이 소니아의 똑똑함과 똑같고 더 나쁘고, 더 추악하고, 더 천박할 수도 있다는 걸 알아? 왜냐하면 두니아, 당신의 경우 사치품에 대한 거래이기 때문이지만 소니아의 경우 단순히 굶는 문제이기 때문이야.

이 똑똑함은 대가를 치러야 해, 대가를 치러야 해, 두니아, 이 똑똑함은. 그리고 나중에 후회한다면, 당신이 감당할 수 있는 것보다 더 심하면 어떡하지? 괴로움, 비참함, 저주, 세상 모든 사람에게 숨겨진 눈물, 당신은 마르파 페트로브나가 아니니까. 그리고 당신 어머니는 그때 어떻게 느낄까? 지금도 불안하고 걱정되지만, 모든 것을 분명히 알게 되면? 그리고 나는? 그래, 정말이지, 당신은 나를 무엇으로 생각했어? 나는 당신의 희생을 받아들이지 않을 거야, 두니아, 받아들이지 않을 거야, 어머니! 그럴 리가 없어, 내가 살아있는 한, 그럴 리가 없어, 그럴 리가 없어! 나는 그것을 받아들이지 않을 거야!” 그는 갑자기 자신의 생각에 잠기고 움직이지 않고 섰다.

“그럴 수 없겠지? 하지만 그걸 막기 위해 뭘 할 거야? 금지할 거야? 그리고 네가 무슨 권리가 있어? 네 편에서 그런 권리를 주겠다고 그들에게 무엇을 약속할 수 있어? 네가 공부를 마치고 직장을 얻었을 때, 네 인생 전체, 네 미래 전체를 그들에게 바칠 거야? 그래, 우리는 그 모든 것을 전에 들었고, 그게 다 말이야, 하지만 지금은? 이제 뭔가를 해야 해, 이제, 이해하니? 그리고 지금 뭘 하고 있어? 네가 그걸 먹고 살고 있어.

그들은 100루블 연금으로 빌린다. 그들은 스비드리가일로프에게서 빌린다. 어떻게 그들을 스비드리가일로프에게서, 아파나시 이바노비치 바흐루신에게서, 오, 그들의 삶을 마련해 줄 미래의 백만장자 제우스에게서 구해낼 수 있어? 10년 후면? 10년 후면, 어머니는 숄을 뜨느라 눈이 멀고, 어쩌면 울기도 할 거야. 그녀는 금식으로 그림자처럼 지쳐 있을 거야; 그리고 내 누이는? 잠깐 상상해 봐, 10년 후에 네 누이는 어떻게 되었을지? 그 10년 동안 그녀에게 무슨 일이 일어날까? 상상이 가?” 그래서 그는 스스로를 괴롭히며, 그런 질문들로 자신을 초조하게 만들고, 그 안에서 일종의 즐거움을 찾았다. 하지만 이 모든 질문들은 갑자기 그를 마주한 새로운 질문들이 아니라, 오래전부터 익숙한 아픔이었다.

그것들이 처음으로 그의 마음을 움켜쥐고 찢기 시작한 지 오래되었다. 오래전, 오래전 그의 현재의 고뇌는 처음 시작되었다. 그것은 커져 힘을 얻었고, 성숙하고 집중되어, 마침내 두렵고, 열광적이고, 환상적인 질문의 형태를 띠었고, 그의 마음과 정신을 괴롭히며, 끈질기게 답을 요구했다. 이제 그의 어머니의 편지가 천둥소리처럼 그에게 터져 나왔다.

그는 이제 수동적으로 고통받고, 풀리지 않은 질문들에 대해 걱정해서는 안 되며, 무언가를 해야 한다는 것이 분명했다. 즉시, 그리고 재빨리. 어쨌든 그는 무언가를 결정해야 했다. 그렇지 않으면... "아니면 삶을 완전히 토해내!" 그는 갑자기 열광적으로 소리쳤다. "자신의 운명을 있는 그대로 겸손하게 받아들이고, 단번에 자신 안의 모든 것을 억누르고, 활동, 삶, 사랑에 대한 모든 권리를 포기하라!"

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But my mother? It’s all Rodya, precious Rodya, her first born! For such a son who would not sacrifice such a daughter! Oh, loving, over-partial hearts! Why, for his sake we would not shrink even from Sonia’s fate. Sonia, Sonia Marmeladov, the eternal victim so long as the world lasts.

Have you taken the measure of your sacrifice, both of you? Is it right? Can you bear it? Is it any use? Is there sense in it? And let me tell you, Dounia, Sonia’s life is no worse than life with Mr. Luzhin. ‘There can be no question of love,’ mother writes. And what if there can be no respect either, if on the contrary there is aversion, contempt, repulsion, what then? So you will have to ‘keep up your appearance,’ too. Is not that so? Do you understand what that smartness means?

Do you understand that the Luzhin smartness is just the same thing as Sonia’s and may be worse, viler, baser, because in your case, Dounia, it’s a bargain for luxuries, after all, but with Sonia it’s simply a question of starvation.

It has to be paid for, it has to be paid for, Dounia, this smartness. And what if it’s more than you can bear afterwards, if you regret it? The bitterness, the misery, the curses, the tears hidden from all the world, for you are not a Marfa Petrovna. And how will your mother feel then? Even now she is uneasy, she is worried, but then, when she sees it all clearly? And I? Yes, indeed, what have you taken me for? I won’t have your sacrifice, Dounia, I won’t have it, mother! It shall not be, so long as I am alive, it shall not, it shall not! I won’t accept it!” He suddenly paused in his reflection and stood still.

“It shall not be? But what are you going to do to prevent it? You’ll forbid it? And what right have you? What can you promise them on your side to give you such a right? Your whole life, your whole future, you will devote to them when you have finished your studies and obtained a post? Yes, we have heard all that before, and that’s all words, but now? Now something must be done, now, do you understand that? And what are you doing now? You are living upon them.

They borrow on their hundred roubles pension. They borrow from the Svidrigaïlovs. How are you going to save them from Svidrigaïlovs, from Afanasy Ivanovitch Vahrushin, oh, future millionaire Zeus who would arrange their lives for them? In another ten years? In another ten years, mother will be blind with knitting shawls, maybe with weeping too. She will be worn to a shadow with fasting; and my sister? Imagine for a moment what may have become of your sister in ten years? What may happen to her during those ten years? Can you fancy?” So he tortured himself, fretting himself with such questions, and finding a kind of enjoyment in it. And yet all these questions were not new ones suddenly confronting him, they were old familiar aches.

It was long since they had first begun to grip and rend his heart. Long, long ago his present anguish had its first beginnings; it had waxed and gathered strength, it had matured and concentrated, until it had taken the form of a fearful, frenzied and fantastic question, which tortured his heart and mind, clamouring insistently for an answer. Now his mother’s letter had burst on him like a thunderclap.

It was clear that he must not now suffer passively, worrying himself over unsolved questions, but that he must do something, do it at once, and do it quickly. Anyway he must decide on something, or else...“Or throw up life altogether!” he cried suddenly, in a frenzy—“accept one’s lot humbly as it is, once for all and stifle everything in oneself, giving up all claim to activity, life and love!”