Chapter Summaries: Dole: The officer's ward. Captain Tushin. Denisof's document. Asks pardon.
Briggs: Denisov reluctantly agrees to petition the Emperor for a pardon.
Translation:
XVIII. Having passed the corridor, the paramedic introduced Rostov into the officer chambers, consisting of three, with open doors, rooms. In the rooms there were beds; the wounded and sick officers were lying and sitting on them. Some in hospital gowns went by the rooms. The first face that met Rostov in the officer wards was a little lean person without a hand, in a cap and sick smock with a bitten pipe, going into the first room. Rostov, peering at him, tried to remember where he had seen him. — Here is where God brings you to meet me, — said the little person. — Tushin, Tushin, remember I drove you below Schongraben? But a slice of me is cut off, here... — he said, smiling, showing him the empty sleeve of the robe. — Searching for Vasiliy Dmitrievich Denisov? — My roommate! — he said, upon learning who was needed by Rostov. — Here, here — and Tushin led him into another room, from which was heard the laughter of several voices. "And how may they not only laugh, but live here?" thought Rostov, all feeling still this smell of dead bodies, which he picked up still in the soldier’s hospital, and all still seeing around himself those envious looks, seeing him off with both parties, and the face of the young soldier with rolled up eyes. Denisov, covering his head with the blanket, slept in bed, despite that it was the 12th hour of the day. —Ah, Rostov? Great, great! — he shouted everything by that same voice, as happened in the regiment; but Rostov with sadness saw how with this habitual swagger and liveliness that a new evil, hidden feeling peeped through in the expression of his face, and in the intonations and words of Denisov. His wound, despite its insignificance, still had not healed at all, although already six weeks had passed since he was injured. In his face was that same pale swelling which was on the whole hospital's face. Yet this is not what struck Rostov; what struck him was how Denisov, as if not glad to see him, unnaturally smiled at him. Denisov did not ask about the regiment, or about the common move of affairs. When Rostov spoke about this, Denisov did not listen. Rostov saw even that Denisov was unpleasant when he reminded him about the regiment at all and about that other, free life, which went beyond the hospital. He, it seemed, tried to forget that former life and was interested only in his business with the provision officials. To the question of Rostov, at which position the business was, he immediately took out from under the pillows a paper received from the commission, and their rough answer to it. He revived, began to read his paper and especially gave notice to Rostov the taunts that he in this paper spoke to his enemies. The hospital friends of Denisov, surrounding Rostov — again arriving as a free world face, — began little by little to disperse, as only Denisov had begun to read his paper. By their faces Rostov got that all these gentlemen now had not once had heard all that succeeded in the story. Only his neighbor in the bed, a thick lancer, sat in their bunk, gloomily frowning and smoking a pipe and, little Tushin without his hand continued to listen, disapprovingly shaking his head. In the middle of the reading the lancer interrupted Denisov. — But for me, — he said, turning to Rostov, — he needs to simply ask the sovereign about a pardon. Now, speak, the awards will be large, and rightly forgiven... — I to ask the sovereign! — said Denisov in a voice which he wanted to give the former energy and hotness, but which was heard as worthless irritability. — About what? If I was a robber, I would have requested mercy, but I am judged for that I take out robbers into the blank water. Let it be judged, I am afraid of no one; I honestly served the tsar, the homeland and did not steal! And I am demoted, and... listen, I am writing all of them so, here and writing: "If I was an embezzler..." — Cleverly written and spoken, — said Tushin. — and not in this business, Vasiliy Dmitrich, — he also turned to Rostov, — he needs to submit, but here Vasiliy Dmitrich does not want to. The auditor spoke to you that your business is bad. — Well, let it be bad, — said Denisov. — You wrote the auditor a request, — continued Tushin, — and you need to sign it, and here with him send it. In them is the right (he pointed out to Rostov) and hand it to the staff. Really a better case will not be found out. — And because I said that I will not act so, — interrupted Denisov and again continued reading his paperwork. Rostov did not dare to persuade Denisov, although his instinct felt that the way offered by Tushin and other officers was most true, and although he would have counted himself happy if he could manifest to help Denisov: he knew the inflexible commitment of Denisov and his truthful hotness. When Denisov finished reading the poisonous papers, continuing for more than an hour, Rostov said nothing, and in a very sad location of spirit, in society again gathered about him the hospital friends of Denisov, spending the remaining part of the day, telling about what he knew, and listening to other stories. Denisov gloomily kept silent in continuation only to the evening. Late at night Rostov gathered to leave and asked Denisov whether he will not have any kind of errands. — Yes, wait, — said Denisov, turning back to the officers and getting from under the pillows his paperwork, going to the window, in which stood his inkwell, and sat down to write. — It is seen with a whip of a butt you will not break, — he said, walking away from the window and giving Rostov a big envelope. — This was the request in the name of the sovereign, the form of the auditor, in which Denisov, mentioning nothing about the guilt of the provisional authorities, requested only pardon. — Deliver, it is seen... — he did not finish talking and smiled a painfully fake smile.
Time: see previous chapter, late in the evening
Mentioned: six weeks
Locations: see previous chapter
Mentioned: Schongraben,
Pevear and Volkhonsky: Rostov keeps going further in. Tushin has lost an arm and is roommates with Denisov.
Briggs: Denisov reluctantly agrees to petition the Emperor for a pardon.
Translation:
XVIII. Having passed the corridor, the paramedic introduced Rostov into the officer chambers, consisting of three, with open doors, rooms. In the rooms there were beds; the wounded and sick officers were lying and sitting on them. Some in hospital gowns went by the rooms. The first face that met Rostov in the officer wards was a little lean person without a hand, in a cap and sick smock with a bitten pipe, going into the first room. Rostov, peering at him, tried to remember where he had seen him. — Here is where God brings you to meet me, — said the little person. — Tushin, Tushin, remember I drove you below Schongraben? But a slice of me is cut off, here... — he said, smiling, showing him the empty sleeve of the robe. — Searching for Vasiliy Dmitrievich Denisov? — My roommate! — he said, upon learning who was needed by Rostov. — Here, here — and Tushin led him into another room, from which was heard the laughter of several voices. "And how may they not only laugh, but live here?" thought Rostov, all feeling still this smell of dead bodies, which he picked up still in the soldier’s hospital, and all still seeing around himself those envious looks, seeing him off with both parties, and the face of the young soldier with rolled up eyes. Denisov, covering his head with the blanket, slept in bed, despite that it was the 12th hour of the day. —Ah, Rostov? Great, great! — he shouted everything by that same voice, as happened in the regiment; but Rostov with sadness saw how with this habitual swagger and liveliness that a new evil, hidden feeling peeped through in the expression of his face, and in the intonations and words of Denisov. His wound, despite its insignificance, still had not healed at all, although already six weeks had passed since he was injured. In his face was that same pale swelling which was on the whole hospital's face. Yet this is not what struck Rostov; what struck him was how Denisov, as if not glad to see him, unnaturally smiled at him. Denisov did not ask about the regiment, or about the common move of affairs. When Rostov spoke about this, Denisov did not listen. Rostov saw even that Denisov was unpleasant when he reminded him about the regiment at all and about that other, free life, which went beyond the hospital. He, it seemed, tried to forget that former life and was interested only in his business with the provision officials. To the question of Rostov, at which position the business was, he immediately took out from under the pillows a paper received from the commission, and their rough answer to it. He revived, began to read his paper and especially gave notice to Rostov the taunts that he in this paper spoke to his enemies. The hospital friends of Denisov, surrounding Rostov — again arriving as a free world face, — began little by little to disperse, as only Denisov had begun to read his paper. By their faces Rostov got that all these gentlemen now had not once had heard all that succeeded in the story. Only his neighbor in the bed, a thick lancer, sat in their bunk, gloomily frowning and smoking a pipe and, little Tushin without his hand continued to listen, disapprovingly shaking his head. In the middle of the reading the lancer interrupted Denisov. — But for me, — he said, turning to Rostov, — he needs to simply ask the sovereign about a pardon. Now, speak, the awards will be large, and rightly forgiven... — I to ask the sovereign! — said Denisov in a voice which he wanted to give the former energy and hotness, but which was heard as worthless irritability. — About what? If I was a robber, I would have requested mercy, but I am judged for that I take out robbers into the blank water. Let it be judged, I am afraid of no one; I honestly served the tsar, the homeland and did not steal! And I am demoted, and... listen, I am writing all of them so, here and writing: "If I was an embezzler..." — Cleverly written and spoken, — said Tushin. — and not in this business, Vasiliy Dmitrich, — he also turned to Rostov, — he needs to submit, but here Vasiliy Dmitrich does not want to. The auditor spoke to you that your business is bad. — Well, let it be bad, — said Denisov. — You wrote the auditor a request, — continued Tushin, — and you need to sign it, and here with him send it. In them is the right (he pointed out to Rostov) and hand it to the staff. Really a better case will not be found out. — And because I said that I will not act so, — interrupted Denisov and again continued reading his paperwork. Rostov did not dare to persuade Denisov, although his instinct felt that the way offered by Tushin and other officers was most true, and although he would have counted himself happy if he could manifest to help Denisov: he knew the inflexible commitment of Denisov and his truthful hotness. When Denisov finished reading the poisonous papers, continuing for more than an hour, Rostov said nothing, and in a very sad location of spirit, in society again gathered about him the hospital friends of Denisov, spending the remaining part of the day, telling about what he knew, and listening to other stories. Denisov gloomily kept silent in continuation only to the evening. Late at night Rostov gathered to leave and asked Denisov whether he will not have any kind of errands. — Yes, wait, — said Denisov, turning back to the officers and getting from under the pillows his paperwork, going to the window, in which stood his inkwell, and sat down to write. — It is seen with a whip of a butt you will not break, — he said, walking away from the window and giving Rostov a big envelope. — This was the request in the name of the sovereign, the form of the auditor, in which Denisov, mentioning nothing about the guilt of the provisional authorities, requested only pardon. — Deliver, it is seen... — he did not finish talking and smiled a painfully fake smile.
Time: see previous chapter, late in the evening
Mentioned: six weeks
Locations: see previous chapter
Mentioned: Schongraben,
Pevear and Volkhonsky: Rostov keeps going further in. Tushin has lost an arm and is roommates with Denisov.
“How can they not only live here, but even laugh?” thought Rostov, still sensing that smell of dead flesh”
Denisov: “His wound, despite its insignificance, still had not healed, though it was now six weeks since he was wounded.”
“Denisov did not ask about the regiment, nor about the general course of affairs.”
“Denisov’s hospital friends, who surrounded Rostov as a newly arrived person from the free world, gradually began to disperse as soon as Denisov started reading his paper.”
That is, except Tushin.
Denisov continues to stand up for himself and despite the advice of Tushin, won’t ask for forgiveness, but then relents at the end of the chapter.
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
Makeyef (“the feldsher”)
Rostof
Tushin
Vasili Dmitrievitch Denisof (also “Vasili Dmitritch”)
Czar Alexander (“the sovereign” and “my tsar”)
(the comissary chinovnik is referenced again, an auditor is also referenced in relation to Denisof’s story)
(sick and wounded officers, one that stands out is “a stout Uhlan” that continues to listen to Denisof’s commission and gives advice)
Abridged Versions: End of chapter 22 for Bell.
Gibian: end of chapter 15
Gibian: end of chapter 15
Fuller: entire chapter is cut
Komroff: Again, some detail is removed but the essentials of the chapter are preserved.
Kropotkin: The details about Denisof's wound are removed, but the chapter is pretty well preserved. End of chapter 8.
Simmons: appears preserved and end of chapter 15.
Simmons: appears preserved and end of chapter 15.
Additional Notes: Nikitenko: Page 61: "Marya Fyodorovna (Bedryaga) had a daughter and two sons. The daughter, Kleopatra Nikolayevna, was married to some Cossack general by the name, I think, of Denisov."
Dmitri Pisarev: The Old Gentry
“What happens to human minds and characters under conditions that make it possible for people to get along without knowledge, without ideas, without energy, and without work?”
Rather than look at those facts that oppose his (Nicholas Rostov) youthful dreams, he shuts his eyes to them, blinded by cowardice, stubbornness, and petty fits of anger...He not only closes his own eyes but with fanatical eagerness tries to shut the eyes of other people...He who is lucky enough to come upon the formula “our business is not to think” at the first experience of inner turmoil and who is able to calm himself, even if only for a minute, with this formula and with the help of two bottles; such a man will probably always seek this formula’s protection as soon as uncomfortable doubts assail him and the threat of independent thinking worries him...He is fully satisfied only by life with the regiment where everything is defined and set, where everything is clear and simple...where there is no room for doubt or free choice...Why should he create for himself interests in the broad and stormy sea of life, when the stable, the kennel, and the nearby forest more than satisfy all his instinctual needs?”
Speirs: Page 37: “Nikolay, who returns happily to his regiment as a friendly refuge from the ills of civilian life, finds it hideously transformed by sickness and want...The climax of these two books about people tormented by injustice in an unintelligible world comes when Nikolay rides to Tilsit with Denisov’s petition to the Tsar for a reprieve...Nikolay reacts as the crowd does. It is necessary for him to see both himself and Denisov as pawns in a great and benevolent plan. But the two emperors are in fact ordinary men, immeasurably distant only because they are out of touch with other men. There is really nobody in charge...
No comments:
Post a Comment