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133 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1835
鈥e finally returns home, or goes to drink a little glass of vodka with his neighbour, Ivan Nikiforovitch, or the judge, or the chief of police.
Ivan Ivanovitch is very fond of receiving presents. They please him greatly.
A very fine man too is Ivan Nikiforovitch. They are such friends as the world never saw.
Ivan Ivanovitch is tall and thin: Ivan Nikiforovitch is rather shorter in stature, but he makes it up in thickness. Ivan Ivanovitch鈥檚 head is like a radish, tail down; Ivan Nikiforovitch鈥檚 like a radish with the tail up. Ivan Ivanovitch lolls on the balcony in his shirt sleeves after dinner only: in the evening he dons his pelisse and goes out somewhere, either to the village shop, where he supplies flour, or into the fields to catch quail. Ivan Nikiforovitch lies all day at his porch: if the day is not too hot he generally turns his back to the sun and will not go anywhere.
鈥淓xcuse me, Ivan Ivanovitch; my gun is a choice thing, a most curious thing; and besides, it is a very agreeable decoration in a room.鈥�
鈥淵ou go on like a fool about that gun of yours, Ivan Nikiforovitch,鈥� said Ivan Ivanovitch with vexation; for he was beginning to be really angry.
鈥淎nd you, Ivan Ivanovitch, are a regular goose!鈥�
If Ivan Nikiforovitch had not uttered that word they would not have quarrelled, but would have parted friends as usual; but now things took quite another turn. Ivan Ivanovitch flew into a rage.
It has its content and even, if you wish, its subject in itself鈥攖his prose which steps forth in the free image of speech about facts not worth mentioning, speech in a pure sense about nothing.鈥漇peech in a pure sense about nothing.鈥� This phrase makes me think about Gogol鈥檚 prose鈥攁t least some of it鈥攂ut it makes me think of two other things just as much: jazz improvisation and Seinfeld.
鈥漈his gentleman, Ivan, son of Nikifor, Dovgochkhun, when I came to him with friendly offers, publicly called me by a name offensive to me and defaming to my honor, namely 鈥済oose,鈥� whereas it is known to the whole Mirgorod region that I have hitherto in no way ever been called, and no intention of being called, this vile animal. And the proof of my noble origin is that the day of my birth, and equally well the baptism I received, have been recorded in the register of the Church of the Three Hierarchs. The 鈥済oose,鈥� as is known to all who are at least somewhat versed in science, cannot be recorded in a register, for a 鈥済oose鈥� is not a person but a bird, which fact is positively known to everyone, even if they have not gone to school. But the said malignant gentleman, being informed of all this, with no other purpose than that of occasioning me an offense mortifying to my rank and estate, did abuse me with the said vile word.鈥�
TUZENBAKH [holds up a finger to her]. Laugh! [To VERSHININ] Not only in two or three hundred years but in a million years life will be just the same; it doesn't change, it remains stationary, following its own laws which we have nothing to do with or which, anyway, we'll never find out. Migratory birds, cranes for instance, fly backwards and forwards, and whatever ideas, great or small, stray through their minds, they'll still go on flying just the same without knowing where or why. They fly and will continue to fly, however philosophic they may become; and it doesn't matter how philosophical they are so long as they go on flying. . . .
MASHA. But still, isn't there a meaning?
TUZENBAKH. Meaning. . . . Here it's snowing. What meaning is there in that? [A pause.]
MASHA. I think man ought to have faith or ought to seek a faith, or else his life is empty, empty. . . . To live and not to understand why cranes fly; why children are born; why there are stars in the sky. . . . You've got to know what you're living for or else it's all nonsense and waste [a pause].
VERSHININ. And yet you're sorry when your youth is over, . . .
MASHA. Gogol says: it's dull living in this world, friends!
TUZENBAKH. And I say: it is difficult to argue with you, friends. Oh, well, I give up. . . .
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