PART I // chapter 4-4

[모나리자]

"알아요, 선생님. 전혀 갈 곳이 없다는 게 무슨 뜻인지 알아요?" 마르멜라도프의 질문이 갑자기 그의 머릿속에 떠올랐다. "모든 사람은 갈 곳이 있어야 하니까요..." 그는 갑자기 깜짝 놀랐다. 어제 생각했던 또 다른 생각이 그의 머릿속으로 스며들었다. 하지만 그는 자신에게 되뇌이는 생각에서 시작하지 않았다. 그는 그 생각이 반드시 돌아올 것이라는 것을 알고 있었고, 미리 느꼈고, 그것을 기대하고 있었기 때문이다. 게다가 그것은 어제의 생각만은 아니었다.

다른 점은 한 달 전, 어제조차도 그 생각이 단순한 꿈이었다는 것이다. 하지만 지금은... 지금은 전혀 꿈이 아닌 듯했다. 그것은 새롭고 위협적이고 전혀 생소한 모습을 띠었고, 그는 갑자기 스스로 그것을 알게 되었다.... 그는 머리에 망치질을 느꼈고, 눈앞에 어둠이 있었다.

그는 서둘러 주변을 둘러보았다. 그는 무언가를 찾고 있었다. 그는 앉고 싶었고, 자리를 찾고 있었다. 그는 K——대로를 따라 걷고 있었다. 그의 앞에는 약 100보 거리에 좌석이 있었다. 그는 가능한 한 빨리 그 자리로 걸어갔다. 하지만 그 과정에서 그는 모든 주의를 빼앗아가는 작은 모험을 만났다. 그는 그 좌석을 찾다가 약 20보 앞을 걷는 여자를 보았지만, 처음에는 길을 가로지르는 다른 물체들보다 그녀에게 더 관심을 두지 않았다.

그는 집에 가는 길에 길을 알아차리지 못하는 일이 여러 번 있었고, 그는 그렇게 걷는 데 익숙했다. 하지만 그의 앞에 있는 여자에게는 첫눈에 너무나 이상한 것이 있어서, 점차 그의 주의가

그녀에게 쏠렸다. 처음에는 마지못해, 말하자면 분개해서, 그리고 점점 더 집중해서. 그는 갑자기 그 여자에게 왜 그렇게 이상한지 알아내고 싶은 욕망을 느꼈다. 우선, 그녀는 아주 어린 소녀처럼 보였고, 그녀는 엄청난 더위 속에서 맨머리에 양산이나 장갑도 쓰지 않고 팔을 어처구니없이 흔들며 걷고 있었다. 그녀는 가벼운 실크 소재의 드레스를 입고 있었지만 이상하게도 틀어져서 제대로 고정되지 않았고, 치마 윗부분이 허리에 가깝게 찢어져 있었습니다. 큰 조각이 찢어져 늘어져 있었습니다.

그녀의 맨 목에는 작은 손수건이 휘둘려져 있었지만 한쪽으로 기울어져 있었습니다. 그 소녀도 비틀거리며 걷고 있었고, 좌우로 비틀거리며 걷고 있었습니다. 그녀는 마침내 라스콜니코프의 모든 주의를 끌었습니다. 그는 좌석에 있는 소녀를 따라잡았지만, 도착하자마자 그녀는 구석에 있는 그 위에 쓰러졌습니다. 그녀는 머리를 좌석 뒤쪽에 가라앉히고 눈을 감았는데, 극도로 지친 듯했습니다. 그녀를 자세히 살펴보니, 그는 그녀가 완전히 취해 있다는 것을 즉시 알았습니다. 이상하고 충격적인 광경이었습니다. 그는 자신이 틀리지 않았다는 것을 거의 믿을 수 없었습니다.

그는 눈앞에 아주 젊고 금발인 소녀의 얼굴이 보였다. 열여섯 살, 아니 열다섯 살이 넘지 않았을 것이다. 예쁘장한 얼굴이었지만 얼굴이 붉고 무거워 보였고, 마치 부어 있었다. 그 소녀는 자신이 무엇을 하고 있는지 거의 모르는 듯했다. 그녀는 한쪽 다리를 다른 쪽 다리 위로 꼬고, 무례하게 들어올렸으며, 거리에 있다는 것을 전혀 의식하지 못하는 듯한 모든 징후를 보였다. 라스콜니코프는 앉지 않았지만, 그녀를 두고 싶지 않았고, 당혹스러운 표정으로 그녀를 마주보았다. 이 대로는 결코 자주 드나들지 않았다. 그리고 이제 오후 2시, 숨 막힐 듯한 더위 속에서는 사람이 전혀 없었다. 그런데도 대로의 반대편, 약 15걸음 떨어진 곳에 한 신사가 보도 가장자리에 서 있었다. 그도 분명 자신의 물건을 가지고 그 소녀에게 다가가고 싶어했을 것이다.

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“Do you understand, sir, do you understand what it means when you have absolutely nowhere to turn?” Marmeladov’s question came suddenly into his mind, “for every man must have somewhere to turn....” He gave a sudden start; another thought, that he had had yesterday, slipped back into his mind. But he did not start at the thought recurring to him, for he knew, he had felt beforehand, that it must come back, he was expecting it; besides it was not only yesterday’s thought.

The difference was that a month ago, yesterday even, the thought was a mere dream: but now... now it appeared not a dream at all, it had taken a new menacing and quite unfamiliar shape, and he suddenly became aware of this himself.... He felt a hammering in his head, and there was a darkness before his eyes.

He looked round hurriedly, he was searching for something. He wanted to sit down and was looking for a seat; he was walking along the K—— Boulevard. There was a seat about a hundred paces in front of him. He walked towards it as fast he could; but on the way he met with a little adventure which absorbed all his attention. Looking for the seat, he had noticed a woman walking some twenty paces in front of him, but at first he took no more notice of her than of other objects that crossed his path.

It had happened to him many times going home not to notice the road by which he was going, and he was accustomed to walk like that. But there was at first sight something so strange about the woman in front of him, that gradually his attention

was riveted upon her, at first reluctantly and, as it were, resentfully, and then more and more intently. He felt a sudden desire to find out what it was that was so strange about the woman. In the first place, she appeared to be a girl quite young, and she was walking in the great heat bareheaded and with no parasol or gloves, waving her arms about in an absurd way. She had on a dress of some light silky material, but put on strangely awry, not properly hooked up, and torn open at the top of the skirt, close to the waist: a great piece was rent and hanging loose.

A little kerchief was flung about her bare throat, but lay slanting on one side. The girl was walking unsteadily, too, stumbling and staggering from side to side. She drew Raskolnikov’s whole attention at last. He overtook the girl at the seat, but, on reaching it, she dropped down on it, in the corner; she let her head sink on the back of the seat and closed her eyes, apparently in extreme exhaustion. Looking at her closely, he saw at once that she was completely drunk. It was a strange and shocking sight. He could hardly believe that he was not mistaken.

He saw before him the face of a quite young, fair-haired girl—sixteen, perhaps not more than fifteen, years old, pretty little face, but flushed and heavy looking and, as it were, swollen. The girl seemed hardly to know what she was doing; she crossed one leg over the other, lifting it indecorously, and showed every sign of being unconscious that she was in the street. Raskolnikov did not sit down, but he felt unwilling to leave her, and stood facing her in perplexity. This boulevard was never much frequented; and now, at two o’clock, in the stifling heat, it was quite deserted. And yet on the further side of the boulevard, about fifteen paces away, a gentleman was standing on the edge of the pavement. He, too, would apparently have liked to approach the girl with some object of his own.