Dostoyevsky-trip

                                                                                            by Vladimir  Sorokin

            A room with simple furniture. Five men and two women are in it. Some are sitting, some are standing, some are on the floor. They are waiting determinedly for somebody.

            MAN 1 (looks at his watch). What a swine! It’s already been seventeen minutes. Brute.

            MAN 2. Times are changing for the worse. If, ten years ago, a dealer was late for seventeen minutes... (Shakes his head) Something would have happened. And something very unpleasant.

            WOMAN 1. Well, all right... he’ll be here any time now.

            MAN 3 (half-lying on the floor, touches his back, stretches agonizingly). O, man...

I’m having the cramps...

            MAN 4 (looks sullenly at him).

But we’ve agreed.

            MAN 3. All right, all right...

            MAN 2. I can’t... I can’t wait... anymore! Another five minutes and I am going on the corner. I’ve got enough for a fix...

            MAN 5. Wait, don’t dash in a flap.

            WOMAN 2. What do you mean - wait, wait!? (Screams.) Asshole! We’re all suffering because of you! Because you are an asshole!

            MAN 5. Well... he’ll come, definitely, I swear...

            WOMAN 2. That’s it! I’m going! Not a second more!

            WOMAN 1. Hey, you - shut up. It’s already sickening, even without your howls.

            WOMAN 2. Not a second! Not a second more! Assholes, fuck! Did you want something new? Cretins! (Walks toward the door).

            WOMAN 1 (slaps her face). Silence!

            WOMAN 2 (sits down on the floor and starts to cry).

            WOMAN 1 (takes her hand and kisses it slowly). He won’t offer anything not worthwhile. I’ve already known this bastard for seven months.

            MAN 5. This is a top-notch thing... top-notch... It goes down smoothly. I mean... you know... because it’s new. It’ll be cool...

            MAN 1. But you haven’t tried it yourself yet?! How do you know?! O, boy!

            MAN 2. To believe in words. In our difficult and contradictory. Times. Is. At least. Thoughtless.

            M3. I’m not panicking, of course, but you have to think it through - should we wait or, maybe, figure out something else...

            M5. Come on, wait... a little more... he’ll be here now...

            M4. I regret I got mixed up with you.

            M1. Fuck it! I can’t wait anymore! (Gets up)

            W2 (sobbing). I’m going to get my Genet.

            M1. And I am getting my Céline! In this stinking city, you can buy him on every corner!

            M5 (stands in front of the door). Wait... come on, we’ve agreed... if you beat it... everything will fail...

            M1. We did not agree to be stuck here for eternity without a fix!

            W2. I would‘ve already been reading for a long time!

            They struggle with M5. M4 slowly walks over to them and firmly pushes everyone from the door.

            M4. I don’t get it: why is everyone on Céline, Genet and Sartre so nervous?

            M1. None of your business, asshole! (jumps M4, but slides down on the floor, having received a punch in the stomach)

            M4 (taps his shoulder). Here is my advice to you - before all of your nerves burn out, quit your Céline and get on Faulkner.

            M1 (cringes from pain). Stick your Faulkner up your ass!

            W1 (in contempt). Faulkner! Get on him, and, in a month, one becomes a retard like yourself! You know how in Amsterdam they call people who are on Faulkner and Hemingway? Weight-lifters! Look at this weight-lifter! Fuck... (Whimpers). Let me go and get a fix! I’ll go and you people wait for this fucking man, you’ll read till you puke... Let me go!

            M5. There must be seven of us, seven, do you understand... otherwise, nothing will happen...

only seven, not a person less... it’s a collective thing, fifth generation... and it’s very good... you’ll thank

me afterwards.

            M4 (slowly seizes him by the collar of his shirt). I’ve been thinking.

            W2. Apparently, he also knows how to think!

            M4. And decided the following. If the man is not here in ten minutes...

            M1. In five minutes! In four minutes!

            W2. Fuck, in two minutes! Fucking sons of bitches!

            M4. In ten minutes. So, if he isn’t here, then you (shakes M5) will put out a fix for each of us. Got it?

            M5. Well...

            M4. Got it? Or didn’t you? I can’t hear you.

            M5. Got it...

            M2 (reproachfully). Friends! Why do we turn our meeting into something... not so pleasant? We got together of our free will, so to speak, in order to get... well... you know... the collective high. So let’s wait under normal conditions, this way, we will, so to speak, be through. And let’s love each other.

            W2. Let’s love! Fuck... I’ve been without a fix for two hours, and he wants - to love!

            M2. Love makes wonders.

            M3. What is he on?

            W1. He’s on Tolstoy.

            M1 (maliciously). Some shit, God forbid to get hooked on him! Tolstoy! (Laughs). I get goose-bumps every time I remember him.

            M2. You didn’t like it, friend?

            M1. Didn’t like it? (Laughs). How can you like it? Tolstoy! About three years ago my buddy and I dug out some money and, you know, relaxed pretty well in Zurich: first Céline, Klossowski, Beckett, and after that, as usual, the soft-core: Flaubert, Maupassant, Stendhal. And the next day I wake up in Geneva.                       But in Geneva, it’s a different story, not like in Zurich.

            Everyone nods understandingly.

            M1. You can’t expect variety in Geneva. I’m walking, see these black guys. Came up to the first one - Kafka, Joyce. The second one - Kafka, Joyce. The third one - Kafka, Joyce, Thomas Mann.

            Everyone cringes.

            M1. How do you come out of the withdrawal? I can’t believe it - Kafka? Come up to the last one - Kafka, Joyce, Tolstoy. What is it, I ask? A wonderful thing, he says. So I took it. At first - nothing special. Kind of like Dickens or Flaubert with Thackeray, then indeed good, good, real good, very strong high, broad, powerful, but at the end... fucking terrible at the end! Very fucking terrible! (Cringes.) I’ve never had it so bad while on Simone de Beauvoir like I had on Tolstoy. Well, so I crawled outside and bought Kafka. I got a bit better. Then to the airport, and in London - at once the usual cocktail - Cervantes with Huxley - got smashed. After that, some Boccaccio, some Gogol - and I am alive and kicking!

            M2. Friend. You probably got the fake.

            W1. The real one is even worse.

            M3. That’s right. Although Thomas Mann is some shit too, I had some liver pain after him.

            W1. Half and half with Kharms he goes down well.

            M3. You know, with Kharms everything goes down well. Even Gorky.

            M4. Who’s talking about Gorky?

            M3. So what?

            M4. Don’t talk about this shit in front of me. I’ve been on him for six months.

            W1. What for?

            M4. Didn’t have the money. So I was hooked on this shit.

            W1. You have my sympathy.

            M4. You’re not on Chekhov by any chance?

            W1 (stretches agonizingly). No. I’m on Nabokov.

            Everyone looks at her.

            W2. But this is... wildly expensive!

            W1. I can afford it.

            M2. And how. Do you. Come out. From a withdrawal?

            W1. That’s a complex one. First, half of Bunin, then half of Bely, and at the end a quarter of Joyce.

            W2. Nabokov, well! Wildly expensive thing. (Shakes her head). Wildly expensive. For a Nabokov’s fix you can buy 4 fixes of Robbe-Grillet and 18 fixes of Nathalie Sarraute. And I don’t even mention Simone

de Beauvoir...

            M4. That’s what makes Faulkner so great. Do you know how you come out? With Faulkner.

            Everyone laughs.

            M4. What’s so funny?

            The door opens. The dealer comes in wearing a torn raincoat, with a small suitcase.

            DEALER (talks sullenly, hardly catching his breath). Mother-fucking shit... (Puts the suitcase on the table, sits down and examines his raincoat.) Fucking pigs... You can’t walk normally through the city any more. It’s a fucking problem now.

            M4. What, a round up?

            DEALER. Worse.

            M1. What could be worse than a round up?

            M3 (comes up and touches the suitcase). 24 hours in jail without a fix.

            DEALER (hits him on the hand). I never come late to my clients. Never. I left the home as usual -          a quarter to. A crowd of women walk along my street carrying a slogan: MAN IS A BEAST WITH A HORN BETWEEN HIS LEGS. I pass them and turn around the corner. A crowd of men is barging in my direction with a slogan: WOMAN IS A VESSEL FOR THE MAN’S SPERM. There was no way to turn the second time. On the corner I was stuck in between them. And you know... (touches his torn raincoat)... the main thing is that the merchandise is safe.... (Unhurriedly opens the suitcase. Everyone surrounds the table. The inside of the suitcase is lighted with the blue light: the jars with pills are lined inside. On the jars are writers’ names.)

            W2. This... you know...

            Dealer. What?

            W2. No... no, nothing....

            Dealer. All right. You ordered the collective one. I have four new ones. Number one. (Takes the jar.) Edgar Poe. This is very cool. But it’s complicated to come out. Via Sholokhov and Solzhenitsin.

            Everyone winces in disgust.

            W1. Not for all the money in the world.

            Dealer. Number two. Alexander Dumas. The high is soft but long. This is supposed to be for... how many of you are there?

            M5. Seven... there are... seven of us.

            Dealer (with surprise). Seven?

            M5. Yes, seven. The rest... are having financial difficulties.

            Dealer. So why are you keeping silent, like a flock of sheep? Seven!. You’ve ordered for twelve people! Dumas is for twelve, Rabelais is actually for 36. Platonov is for 16. Seven! For seven I have no... here, that’s what I have for seven. Dostoyevsky.

            W2. Dostoyevsky?

            M3. But... what is it?

            Dealer. This is a cool thing. One of my latest finds. And it’s easy to come out - via Hamsun.

            Everyone sighs in relief.

            M5. And what about the price?

            Dealer. Regular price.

            W2. Maybe... we should buy domestic?

            W1. You’ll have plenty of time to be on domestic.

            M4. We did not come here for that.

            M1. But who knows what is Dostoyevsky? Perhaps, it’s the same kind of shit as Gorky.

            Dealer. Listen. I do not offer shit to my customers. Please remember that. Either you take it or I am going. I’ve got three more places.

            M5. So what, are we taking it or not?

            Dealer. When you read it you’ll run for a second dose. You’ll thank me.

            M4. We’re taking Dostoyevsky.

            Everyone takes out the money, hands it to Dealer. Dealer opens the jar, puts a pill in every mouth.

            Dealer. Have a good trip.

            Everyone. Happy stay.

            All seven descend into the space of Dostoyevsky’s novel The Idiot, and become characters from the novel. Large, lavishly furnished drawing-room. Nastasya Filippovna, prince Myshkin, Ganya Ivolgin, Varya Ivolgina, Lebedev and Ippolit are in it.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Prince, my old friends here are very anxious for me to get married. Tell me what you think: should I get married or not? I’ll do as you say.

            Prince Myshkin. To... to whom?

            Nastasya Filippovna. To Gavrila Ardalyonovich Ivolgin.

            Prince Myshkin. No... don’t!

            Nastasya Filippovna. So be it! Gavrila Ardalyonovich! You’ve heard the prince’s decision, haven’t you? Well, that’s my answer too. And let that be the end of the matter once and for all.

            Ippolit. Nastasya Filippovna!

            Lebedev. Nastasya Filippovna!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Why, what’s the matter, gentlemen? Why are you so upset? Goodness, just look at your faces!

            Ippolit. But... remember, Nastasya Filippovna, you made a promise... entirely of your own free will...

            Lebedev. And to put an end to so important a matter! It’s not serious!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Gentlemen, I really wanted to tell my story. And I did tell it. Isn’t it a good one? And why do you say it isn’t “serious”? You heard me say to the prince: “as you say, so it shall be.” If he said “yes,” I’d have given my consent at once, but he said “no,” and I refused. Why, my whole life was at stake; could there be anything more serious?

            Lebedev. But the prince, why the prince?

            Nastasya Filippovna. The prince means a lot to me, for he is the first man I’ve ever come across in my life in whom I can believe as a true and loyal friend. He believed in me at first sight, and I believed in him.

            Ganya Ivolgin. It... only remains for me to thank Nastasya Filippovna for the extraordinary delicacy with which she... treated me. This was... of course, to be expected... But... the prince... the prince in

this matter...

            Nastasya Filippovna. ...is after seventy-five thousand rubles, isn’t him? Is that what you were going to say? Don’t deny it, you did mean to say that!

            Varya. Isn’t there anyone here who’ll take this shameless creature away?

            Nastasya Filippovna. It’s me they call a shameless creature! That’s how your dear sister treats me, Gavrila Ardalyonovich!

            Ganya (seizes her by the hand). What have you done?

            Varya. What have I done? You’re not going to ask me to apologize to her, are you?

            Varya tries to pull away her hand but Ganya holds her tight. Varya suddenly spits in her brother’s face.

            Nastasya Filippovna. What a girl! Bravo!

            Ganya aims a blow at his sister but the prince stops him, stands between them.

            Prince Myshkin. There, that’ll do!

            Ganya. You’re not always going to stand in my way, are you! (Gives the prince a slap in the face.)

            The Prince (smiles strangely and painfully). O, well, I don’t mind you striking me, but I won’t let you touch her! (Pause.) Oh, how you’ll be ashamed of what you’ve done.

            Nastasya Filippovna (walks up to the prince. Looks closely at him). I do think I’ve seen his

face somewhere.

            Knocks on the door are heard.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Ah, that puts the finishing touch to the affair! At last! Half past eleven.

            Rogozhin comes in, holding a large bulky object wrapped in a newspaper. He comes to the table and puts the parcel on top.

            Nastasya Filippovna. What’s this?

            Rogozhin. A hundred thousand!

            Nastasya Filippovna. So he’s kept his word after all... (Comes to the table and takes the parcel, looks at it and throws it back on the table.) This, ladies and gentlemen, is a hundred thousand. Here, in this dirty parcel. This afternoon he screamed like a madman that he’d bring me a hundred thousand tonight, and I’ve been waiting for him all this time. You see, he made a bid for me: he began with eighteen thousand, then jumped to forty, and after that the hundred thousand here. He has kept his word - I’ll say that for him! Goodness, how pale he is! (Looks at Rogozhin.) I’m worth a hundred thousand to him! Ganya, darling,

I can see you’re still angry with me, aren’t you? But did you really mean to take me into your family? Me? Rogozhin’s slut? What did the prince say just now?

            The Prince. I did not say you were Rogozhin’s slut - you’re not!

            Nastasya Filippovna. And how could you really have married me knowing that the general was making me a present of such pearls almost on the eve of our wedding and I was accepting them? And what about Rogozhin? Why, he bid for me in your house in the presence of your mother and sister, and after that you still came here to ask me to marry you and brought your sister with you!

            Varya. Oh, my God! Let me out of here... (Covers her face with her hands.)

            Nastasya Filippovna. Is it really true what Rogozhin said about you? Would you really crawl on all fours to Vassilyevsky Island for three rubles?

            Rogozhin. He would.

            Nastasya Filippovna. I could understand it if you were starving, but I am told you’re getting a good salary! And in addition to it all, in addition to the disgrace of it, to bring a wife you hate into your house. Because you do hate me, I know that! Yes, I now can very well believe that a man like you would commit a murder for money! For now they’re all so obsessed with the lust for gold that they’ve taken leave of their senses. A mere child, and he’s already determined to become a money-lender! No-o-o, thank you! I’d better walk the streets because that’s where I belong! Either have a good time with Rogozhin or become a washer-woman tomorrow! Because, you see, I’ve nothing of my own. And who’ll take me without anything, ask Ganya, will he? Why, even Lebedev won’t take me!

            Lebedev. Lebedev perhaps wouldn’t, Nastasya Filippovna, I’m a plain man. But the prince will! Nastasya Filippovna. Is it true?

            The Prince. It is.

            Nastasya Filippovna. You’ll take me just as I am,

without anything?

            The Prince. I will, Nastasya Filippovna.

            Nastasya Filippovna ( looks closely at him). There’s another one for you! A benefactor... What are you going to live on if you’re really so much in love that you don’t mind marrying Rogozhin’s slut - you, a prince?

            The Prince. I will be marrying an honest woman, and not Rogozhin’s slut.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Me, an honest woman?

            The Prince. You.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Oh well, you’ve got that out of... novels! That, my darling Prince, is the sort of thing they believed in the old days. Nowadays the world’s grown wiser, and that is all nonsense! And how can you be thinking of marriage when you need a nurse to look after you!

            The Prince (in agitation). I... know nothing, Nastasya Filippovna, I’ve seen nothing, you’re quite right, but I... I think you’ll be doing me an honor, and not I you. I’m nothing, but you’ve suffered and emerged pure out of such a hell, and that is a great deal. I... I love you. I’m ready to die for you. I won’t let anyone say a bad word against you... If we are poor, I will work, Nastasya Filippovna...

            Lebedev and Ippolit are laughing.

            Varya. Please, take me away from here!

            The Prince. But perhaps we shall not be poor, but very rich... I am afraid I don’t know for certain, but I received a letter in Switzerland from Moscow, from a certain Mr. Salazkin, and he let me know that I might get a very large inheritance. Here’s the letter.

            Lebedev. Did you say it was from Salazkin? He’s a very well-known man in his circle. And if it’s really he who wrote to you, you can believe him unquestionably. Fortunately, I know his handwriting because I’ve had business with him recently... let me see the letter!

            The Prince gives him the letter.

            Ippolit. Is it really an inheritance? This is mad!

            Lebedev. It is quite correct! (Hands the letter back to the Prince.) You will receive without any trouble a million and a half by the incontestable will of your aunt!

            Ippolit. Well done, prince Myshkin, hurrah!

            Ganya (does not look at anyone). And I gave him a loan of twenty five rubles yesterday. It’s fantastic.

            Varya (to Ganya). But do take me out of here, I beg you!

            Ganya. Do leave me alone.

            Ippolit. Hurrah! (Coughs horribly, the blood oozes from his mouth).

            Nastasya Filippovna. Put him in the armchair.

            The Prince. Give him some water!

            Ippolit is taken to a large armchair.

            Ippolit (being hardly able to catch his breath). No... not water... give me champagne...

            The Prince. You’re not allowed to drink champagne.

            Ippolit. Prince... I have two weeks left to live... that’s what our intelligent doctors told me... and I know myself what I can and can’t do. Champagne! Well?!

            Ippolit is served with a glass of champagne.

            Ippolit. Prince... I would like to congratulate you. (Drinks, throws the glass on the floor).

            Nastasya Filippovna. Then I really am a princess... An unexpected ending...

            Ganya. Prince, come to your senses.

            Nastasya Filippovna. No, Ganya! I’m a princess myself now, you heard, didn’t you? The prince will stand up for me now. What do you think, is it worthwhile having such a husband? A million and a half, and a prince. And, I’m told, an idiot into the bargain! What could be better? Oh, life is only beginning for me now! You’re too late, Rogozhin! Take away your money, I’m marrying the prince and I’m richer than you!

            Rogozhin (to the prince). Give her up!

            Lebedev and Nastasya Filippovna are laughing.

            Ippolit (speaks with an effort). Give her up for a fellow like you? Just look at him... He came, threw his money on the table.. the goon! The prince is marrying her, and you came here to behave like a hooligan...

            Rogozhin. And I’ll marry her too! I’ll marry her right now, right this minute! I’ll give her all I have...

            Ippolit. He ought to be thrown out of here, the drunken sot...

            Rogozhin. Give her up, Prince! I’ll give her everything! Everything!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Do you hear, Prince, that’s how this peasant bargains for your bride.

            The Prince. He’s drunk. He loves you very much.

            Nastasya Filippovna. And won’t you feel ashamed afterwards that your bride almost ran off

with Rogozhin?

            The Prince. You were in a fever. You still are in a fever. You talk just as though you are delirious.          Nastasya Filippovna. And you won’t be ashamed afterwards that your wife has been Totsky’s mistress?

            The Prince. No, I won’t. You did not live with Totsky of your own free will.

            Nastasya Filippovna. And you will never reproach me with it?

            The Prince. Never.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Well, take care, you can’t answer for your whole life!

            The Prince. Nastasya Filippovna, I told you just now that it was you who were doing me an honor, and not I you. You smiled at those words and, all around, I heard that all laughed too. Perhaps I expressed myself funnily and perhaps I may have looked funny myself... but it seemed to me that I knew what honor was and what I was talking about. It’s impossible that your life should be utterly ruined. What does it matter that Rogozhin came to you or that Gavrila Ardalyonovich tried to deceive you? Why do you persist in reminding us about that? Few people are capable of doing what you’ve done, I don’t mind saying it to you again. When I saw your portrait this morning, I seemed to have recognized a face I knew well. I felt at once as though you had called me. I... I... will always respect you, Nastasya Filippovna.

            Ganya (whispering). A cultured man but a doomed man!

            Varya. Let’s leave, I beg of you... I beg you as your sister!

            Ganya. I told you, leave me alone.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Thank you, Prince. No one has ever spoken to me like this before. They’ve been always trying to buy me, and no decent man has ever asked me to marry him. Ganya! What do you make of all the prince said? Why, it’s almost indecent, isn’t it? Rogozhin! Don’t be in such a hurry to go. Perhaps, I’ll come with you after all. Where did you mean to take me?

            Rogozhin (perplexed). To... Yekateriengoff.

            Ippolit (in alarm). What do you mean... Nastasya Filippovna!

Have you gone... mad?

            Nastasya Filippovna. Did you really think so? Ruin a baby like him? Why, that’s the sort of thing Totsky would do! It’s he who likes babies! Let’s go Rogozhin! Get your money ready!

            Lebedev. This is Sodom! Sodom!

            Ippolit. Nastasya Filippovna!

            The Prince. No! No!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Well, maybe I too am proud, shameless slut though I am! You called me perfection just now. Some perfection to go on the streets just to be able to boast of having trampled on a million and a title! What sort of wife should I make you after that? Rogozhin, what are you waiting for?

Come on, let’s go!

            Rogozhin. Let’s go! Hey, you there... get wine! Hurrah!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Have plenty of wine ready, I feel like drinking. Will there be music?

            Rogozhin. Yes, yes. (Shields Nastasya Filippovna.) Don’t come near! She’s mine! All mine! My queen! That’s the end!

            Nastasya Filippovna (laughing). What are you yelling for? I’m still a mistress here! If I liked to, I could still kick you out. I haven’t taken the money yet, there it is. Give it to me - the whole bundle. (Rogozhin hands her the money.) There’s a hundred thousand in it, isn’t there? Ugh, how disgusting! Look Prince, your fiancee has taken the money because she’s a slut. And you wanted to take me as your wife. What are you crying for? Feeling bitter? You should laugh, instead. Put your trust in time - everything will pass. Better change your mind now than later. We would never have been happy... We’d better part as friends, for, you know, I am a dreamer myself. Haven’t I dreamed of you myself? You were right, I dreamed of you long ago, when I still lived with Totsky. I used to think and dream, think and dream... I was imagining someone like you, so kind, honest, good, that he would suddenly come and say: “It’s not your fault, Nasten’ka, and I adore you!” Yes, I used to dream for so long that it nearly drove me crazy... And then Totsky would arrive, dishonor, insult, excite, deprave me and then go away - I was ready to drown myself a thousand times in the pond, but I was a despicable creature, did not have the spirit to do it, but now... Are you ready, Rogozhin?

            Rogozhin. All’s ready! Don’t come near!

            Ippolit (coughs heavily). Stop... stop her...

            Lebedev. He’s got troikas with bells waiting for him! There, you can see them in the window, they next to the house.

            The Prince. Nastasya Filippovna!

            Rogozhin. Stand back! Everybody stand back! I’ll kill someone!

            Nastasya Filippovna (walking to the door with a bundle of money in her hand but suddenly stops, looks at the bundle). Ganya, I’ve got an idea. I would like to reward you. Rogozhin, would he crawl on all fours to Vassilyevsky Island for three rubles?

            Rogozhin. He would!   

            Nastasya Filippovna. Then, listen Ganya. I would like to take a look at your soul. You’ve tortured me for three months, it’s my turn now. Do you see this bundle? It’s one hundred thousand. I am going to throw them into the fireplace now, into the fire! As soon as the fire sets it ablaze - get into the fireplace, but without gloves, with your bare hands and pull the bundle out of the fire. If you pull it out - it’s yours. All one hundred thousand. All are witnesses that the bundle will be yours. And I’ll have a good look at your soul when you’re crawling into the fire for my money! And if you don’t - it’ll burn just like that. No one will touch it! My money! Is it mine, Rogozhin?

            Rogozhin. Yours, my joy! Yours, my queen!    

            Nastasya Filippovna. Well, stand back, all of you! Don’t bother me! Lebedev, make the fire!

            Lebedev. Nastasya Filippovna, I can’t do it!    

            Nastasya Filippovna takes the fireplace tongs, rakes the coals and throws the bundle into the fireplace.  

            Ippolit. Tie her up! Stop her!

            Varya. No, no, no! Ganya, run!           

            Lebedev (kneels down before Nastasya Filippovna). Madam! Queen! All-powerful one! A hundred thousand! A hundred thousand! Order me into the fireplace: I’ll crawl into it, I’ll put my gray head into the flames! I’ve got a sick wife with no legs, thirteen children - all are orphans, my father was buried last week, they’re hungry!

(Crawls into the fire).   

            Nastasya Filippovna (pushes him away). Get away! Ganya, what are you standing for? Don’t be ashamed! Go get it! It’s your happiness!

            Ganya looks at the burning bundle in stupor.     

            Rogozhin. That’s our queen! That’s the way we like it! Well, which of you scoundrels would ever do a thing like that?

            Nastasya Filippovna. Ganya, the money will burn! Why, you’ll hang yourself afterwards, I am

not joking!

            Lebedev. It’s burning, burning!

            Ippolit. Tie her up! I beg you! Tie her up!

            Varya. I am going to die now! Oh my God, what did we deserve all of this for!?

            Lebedev. Go on! Go, you conceited ass! It’ll burn! It’ll burn!

            Ganya. No, no, no, no!

            Nastasya Filippovna. It’s burning!

Burning! Burning!

            Rogozhin. I love you! I love you! The queen!

            Ippolit. Death! Death!

            Varya. Help him! Help him!

            Lebedev. I’ll snatch them with my teeth! Out of the fire! I’ll crawl on my knees, in dirt!

            Prince Myshkin. Dear God, how miserable these people are!

            Lebedev. On my knees! In dirt! I’ll crawl like a worm!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Burning! Everything’s burning! Everything’s burning!

            Ippolit. I am dying. I’ll die, I’ll die swiftly!

            Rogozhin. I love you, my queen! I love you more than life itself!

            Varya. I’m asking as a sister - help me!

            Ganya. No! No! No!

            Nastasya Filippovna. All will burn! All will burn! Burned will be all!

            Rogozhin. The queen! I love you! I’ll rip my chest open! I’ll give you my heart!

            Ganya. No! No! No! Burn a hundred thousand! Two hundred! Three hundred! A million! A billion! I’ll have more! More! More!

            Prince Myshkin. How miserable they are! Dear God, how miserable they are!

            Varya. Only a sister’s love is eternal! Only a sister’s love!

            Lebedev. I’ll crawl in the dirt, kiss and lick your feet! I’ll clean the floor with my tongue, I’ll jump like     a clown and grovel like a worm!

            Ippolit. You don’t care that I’ll die soon. Pitiless, heartless people! I’ll die soon! Two weeks is all I

have left!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Let it all burn! Let all the money of the world burn! Rubles, dollars, francs, marks, yen and shillings!

            Rogozhin. I love you! I love you! All the women of the world are in you. I sense them! I know them! I want them!

            Varya. Love of a sister! Innocent, sacred love of a sister! It’s unselfish! It cannot be bought or sold! It’s dearer than anything in the world! It is eternal and endless!

            Prince Myshkin. Pain and suffering! Pain of the world! This is what will save us! Listen, listen to the pain of orphans and beggars! The pain of les miserables!

            Lebedev. For a brass penny thrown to me by a rich man, I’ll cover myself with dirt! I’ll grovel like a worm and grunt like a pig! I’ll dance and weep, laugh and sing!

            Ippolit. Death! This is the most frightening thing in the world! There is nothing scarier than death! I’ve got tuberculosis, I am dying, two weeks is all I have left!

            Ganya. I’ll have a lot of money! I’ll have millions of millions, billions of billions!

            Nastasya Filippovna. I’ll burn all money! All check-cashing places and banks! All mint places of

the world!

            Ganya. I’ll erect a castle on top of Mount Everest! There, where there is only ice and clouds! It’ll be the most expensive castle in the world! Its foundation made of platinum! Walls made of diamonds and emeralds! The roof made of gold and rubies! Every morning I’ll come out on the jade terrace of my castle to throw down precious stones to people! And people down there will catch them and cry out “O, Glory, Ganya Ivolgin, The Richest Man in the World!”

            Rogozhin. I want all the women of the world! I sense them! I know and love each and every one of them! I must inseminate them all! This is the purpose of my life! My divine cock is shining in the dark! My sperm boils like lava! There is enough of it for all the women in the world! Escort all women to me! I’ll inseminate them all! All! All!

            Nastasya Filippovna. I’ll build a wonderful, perfect machine! Like a steel giant, it’ll walk the earth and incinerate! Walk and - incinerate! I’ll operate my machine! I’ll burn cities and villages! Forests and fields!

Rivers and mountains!

            Prince Myshkin. I have 3265150 nerves in my body. Let a violin string be attached to each one of them! 3265150 violin strings will stretch out of my body into the world! Let 3265150 children-orphans take 3265150 violin bows and touch the strings! O, the World’s Pain! O, this music of suffering! O, these thin hands of children! O, my stretched nerves! Play, play on me all orphans and beggars and les miserables! And let your pain be - my Pain!

            Varya. I’ll lift a beautiful ship named “Sister’s Love” into the air! It’ll be silvery and transparent, as light as the air and as firm as a diamond! In it I’ll ascend into the sky, above the world’s baseness and abomination, I’ll scream to the whole world: “Dear Sisters! Innocent Sisters! Sisters who have The Selfless Love of a Sister! Come to me! I’ll take you away from the world of evil and into the world of Goodness and Light!” And they will come and gather below! And I will lower a silver staircase for them! And they will ascend to me!

            Lebedev. I’ll become a giant steel hog! My front paws will become the paws of a mole! I’ll live underground and only at night I will come out onto the surface to devour the world’s sewage! I’ll cover the Earth with a web of underground tunnels! At night I will devour garbage dumps and drink up sewers! And the ample lead fat will accumulate under my steel skin! And only my tongue will remain human, sensitive, pink and wet! During the afternoons, while digesting sewage, I’ll stick my tongue out to the surface and lick clean the boots of counts and princes, marquises and barons!

            Ippolit. I’ll cheat Death! I’ll hire the best scientists in the world to make the New Me! New,

Eternal Ippolit! O, this is going to be a grandiose undertaking! It’ll be done by 165 scientific institutes under the supervision of 28 academy members - Nobel prize winners! In two weeks left to my rotting body, they’ll manufacture Ippolit Terentiev’s New Eternal Body! It will be made out of the most durable and lasting material! It’ll shine like the sun! It’ll be strong and young! The rays of Joy and Optimism will radiate from it! And when my old body shakes in the throes of deathly agony, the best neurosurgeons of the world will pull out my Unique Brain from the old body and transfer it into the New one! And I shall arise and take Ippolit Terentiev’s old body with my strong new hands and laughingly throw it into the jaws of old lady-death! And when her yellow teeth begin to chew on my old body, I, Young and Eternal, will laugh and spit in her eyeless mug! Laugh and spit!

            Ganya. Hey, little people below! Catch, catch the diamonds and emeralds! Catch the sapphires and the rubies! O, how they shine in the light of the rising sun! Shine and drop down! And there, little people looking like ants hustle and catch them! (Throwing.) Diamonds in the left hand! Emeralds in the right! Diamonds in the left! Emeralds in the right! Ha-ha-ha!

            Nastasya Filippovna. O, my God, how pleasant it is to incinerate! How beautiful is the Fire that obeys my will! What a wonderful and furious animal! How obedient to his Mistress! I show him a new city and tell him - tally-ho! And he rushes forward! Burn, burn cities and villages! Burn, burn forests and fields!

            Rogozhin. O, how sweet it is to impregnate whole countries and continents! I have enough sperm for everyone. My dick shines with a blue flame! Today I fuck the women of Australia, tomorrow I will fuck the women of Mexico, the day after - those of Indonesia! Come, come to me, millions of naked women! I love you! I want you! I fuck you!

            Varya. My ship, “Sister’s Love,” is hovering over the world of Vulgarity and Evil! Along the silver staircase sisters are ascending to me! How innocent, pure and sublime are their faces! They exhume Goodness and Love! Come, come to me my Sisters! Our ark of Goodness and Light will float to a different Galaxy - Galaxy of Love! Only there will we obtain Rest and Freedom! Only there! Only together!

            Prince Myshkin. Play, play on the strings of my nerves! Play, orphans and beggars! Play,

les miserables! Play, poor children! I can sense your pale hands! How awkwardly yet diligently they hold the bows! O, how I love children’s hands, thin hands with scratches and red spots! Indeed play on me, my beloved offspring! Play! Play louder!

            Lebedev. O, how delicious are the dumps devoured under a full moon! City dumps, industrial sewers, village bathrooms, soldiers’ waterclosets - everything will fit in my steel gut! I’ll devour and hungrily drink up the sewers! This is the best wine in the world! First rays of sunrise will drive me away, I’ll submerge into the cool body of the Earth, thrust out my tongue... ooo! How delicious are the boots of the rich and the aristocracy! How mighty and confident are their owners! How proudly they carry their heads! What confident postures they have! They always wear new shoes! How sweetly they smell of expensive stores, luxurious restaurants, private clubs and casinos! O, how sweet are these boots!

            Ganya. Diamonds - in the left hand, emeralds - in the right hand! Left hand - diamonds, right hand... (Shakes his hand.) I never thought that precious stones are so heavy... hey, someone, take my place for a while, I am slightly tired... throw diamonds to the left, emeralds to the right... just don’t get mixed-up... there you go... and I don’t hear the shouts of appreciation (listens closely; below, weak exclamations can be heard).... can’t hear anything. Give out megaphones to the people below. (Shivers.) It’s kind of cold on top of Everest... (Screams.) Come on! I can’t hear you! Wait, do not throw anything until they start to shout!

I’m listening! (From below: “O, glory to you, The Richest Man in the World!”)

            Nastasya Filippovna. O, how much I have burned! Ugh, it’s so hot in the cockpit... What am I

incinerating now?

            Someone. Rio-de-Janeiro.

            Nastasya Filippovna. How much napalm do we need?

            Someone. 24 thousand tons.

            Nastasya Filippovna. How much do I have?

            Someone. 4 thousand tons.

            Nastasya Filippovna. Send the napalm refueller immediately. And order the technicians to install the air-conditioner in my cockpit. I’m giving you 16 minutes for everything! Let’s go!

            Rogozhin (impregnates women). O, good... very good... yes, yes, just make sure not everyone at the same time... not at the same time. My dear, order should be in everything... even in love... today I impregnate Englishwomen... only Englishwomen... o, how calm they are... how cold and obedient on the outside... how obedient they are to my hot dick... how it invades their cool vaginas... how my sperm boils and scorches them! O, I love you, women of England! O, how wonderful! Not everyone at the same time... not at the same time... I told you - not at the same time! Don’t let the Irish women ahead! I will fuck Ireland tomorrow! And get the Armenian women away! They always cut the line! O, how wonderful!

            Varya. Ascend, ascend to me, my beloved sisters! Ascend the silver staircase! I’ll take everyone into my Ark of Sister’s Love! Just don’t rush! My staircase is made of 99% pure silver! Its stairs are smooth and straight! Its banisters are brittle and exquisite! If you break the staircase, my beloved sisters, this will cause me to have serious financial difficulties!

            Prince Myshkin. Play, play, unhappy children! Play on my body’s nerves! Play, play... but, I beg you, not Schoenberg and not Shostakovich! Play Vivaldi! Please, Vivaldi, “The Four Seasons”! Did you understand me? Vivaldi, “The Four Seasons”! Vivaldi!

            Lebedev (licking). O, the sweet, sweet boots of the aristocracy... it’s a pity that not all aristocrats visit respectable places... Not everyone walks on rugs and parquet floors... some, for instance, attend soccer for some reason... what would an aristocrat find in soccer? A plebeian game!The benches are dirty with spits. And sometimes with vomit. And what about the stadium’s restrooms... well. These boots have a different taste. Not one of aristocracy.

            Ippolit. Young, new body? O, I will run through fields and meadows! I’ll jump like a young deer!           I’ll enjoy the sun and the air! My Young Age and Health Society  is open for all young men from 16 to 25!    I’ll accept everyone! But only the young and the beautiful! And no older than 25!

            Ganya (shouts). I told you - diamonds to the left, emeralds - to the right! And not vise versa! Asses! Bring me a sable fur coat! It’s as cold here as in the grave! Why is this terrace not heated? Install water heating! (Listens closely). Louder! Louder! Why is their shouting so lifeless? Hey, animals! I don’t throw you beans with rice, but diamonds and emeralds. Open your

mouths wider!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Napalm, of course, is a luxury. You can’t get enough of it for all cities. It would be easier to use kerosene or fuel oil. But kerosene stinks so much, and fuel oil gives  off so much soot... Ugh!

Thanks God I have an

air-conditioner in the cockpit... (Drinks water, spits it out). Hog, if you bring me water without ice again, I’ll send you with a bucket to get some ice in burning Lisbon! Get out of my way!

            Rogozhin. No! No! No! I can’t fuck everyone at once! I am not a machine! Get those Armenian women away! Today - women of Holland only! O, get away, lusty bitches! Get away!

            Varya. Sisters! Dear sisters of mine! I beg you! Ascend the ladder in order! You’re breaking my banisters! What are you doing? Silver is not steel, it’s brittle! Come to your senses!

            Prince Myshkin (cringes from pain). Why are children so talentless? It’s indeed so simple to learn how to play the violin... how few wunderkinds there are in the world... (Screams). Don’t tear my strings, bastards! What did you learn from your teachers?! A string is not a washing-cloth line, and a bow is not a stick! It should touch the string smoothly, smoothly... (Screams from pain). Smoothly! Smoothly! Smoothly!!

            Lebedev (licks boots). The aristocrats, the aristocrats today just aren’t the same... not all of them wear designer shoes... (Throws up). And I can’t devour radioactive waste... City dumps, garbage, soldiers toilets - with pleasure, but what does radioactive waste have to do with it?! My internal organs are beginning

to mutate...

            Ippolit (exercises on a machine). In the gyms of our society you’ll find all sporting supplies! Your muscles will be elastic and resilient! Your body will be admired by all! The Young Age and Health Society!

From 16 to 25!

            Ganya. I don’t have any more diamonds! Fuck! I can’t throw emeralds only! They are too expensive! Break down the diamond walls! Throw the pieces down, but not the big ones! I’m cold! Pigs! Why wouldn’t they scream? What is this - a strike? Bastards! Do you want my dead?!

            Rogozhin. I can’t get my dick up! I can’t get my dick up! I can’t get my dick up!

            Lebedev (pukes). Why...? What dirt... (Pukes).... This radioactive waste...

            Rogozhin. I can’t, I can’t - get my dick up?! I can’t?! I can’t!

            Varya. God has punished the brute! But they broke my ladder! They broke my silver ladder!

            Prince Myshkin. They’re tearing my strings! Aaaaa! They’re tearing my strings!!

            Ippolit. It’s great to be young and healthy! No one will be tearing your nerves then!

            Rogozhin. I can’t get my dick up!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Your dick is nothing. My oil-burner got clogged up!

            Ganya. Pigs! I can’t break down the walls by myself! I need tools! Give me an electric hammer!

            Rogozhin. I can’t get my dick up! But why?! I’ve been doing everything correctly! I have to impregnate all the women of the world! And I only was able to impregnate half of Europe! (Kneels down). Nastasya Filippovna! I beg you! Help! Help!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Fuck off! I need a monkey-wrench 48X120! Who’s got a wrench 48x120?!

            Varya. Fix my ladder! I can’t pick-up the sisters! They are crowded below extending their hands

to me!

            Lebedev (maliciously pukes). Sisters... say it straight out - lesbians... “Ark of Sisterly Love”... couldn’t think of anything smarter...

            Ippolit (exercises). Health is the main thing in life!

            Prince Myshkin. They tore a million and a half of my strings! O, tear off their thin, scratched hands!

            Nastasya Filippovna. A monkey-wrench! Who’ll give me a monkey-wrench?!

            Rogozhin. I’ll get you a monkey-wrench, just get my dick up! I beg you! You have such gentle hands!

            Nastasya Filippovna. Buzz off! Ask Varya!

            Rogozhin. Varya! I’m asking you as your brother!        

            Varya. The ladder! The ladder! My ladder!

            The Prince. My strings. Don’t tear my strings!

            Ganya (calmly, but shivering from cold). Shut the mouth of this crying Aphrodite. I’m offering

honest business.

            Everyone keeps silent. Only Ippolit continues to exercise on a machine.

            Lebedev (silently pukes). What business?

            Ganya. I need an electric hammer of the newest design. I’m offering any piece of my castle’s walls.

And the walls in my castle are made of diamonds.

            Nastasya Filippovna. What do I need diamonds for? I need a monkey-wrench to fix the oil-burner!

            Lebedev. I’ll find any wrench for you in the city’s garbage dump, but I need all radioactive waste to be destroyed. So that I wouldn’t have to devour it.

            Rogozhin. I’ll persuade all the women of the world to shit on your radioactive waste! It’ll be covered by a stratum of shit. But I need to get my dick up.

            Varya. I’ll get your dick up. Believe me, I can do it. But who will fix my ladder?

            The Prince. I’ll fix anything, just teach orphan children to play violins properly!

            Ippolit (exercises). In my Young Age and Health Society I’ll teach children everything! But the main thing I’ll teach them, is to appreciate their youth and look after their health! The culture of the healthy body - it’s a great thing! If your body is healthy - you can easily learn the technique of playing Stradivarius - it’s nothing really! (Suddenly, the muscles in his body are torn with a strange sound).

            Varya. The muscles of your new body are torn.

            Ippolit. But why?

            Ganya. Because everything new breaks down, sooner or later.

            Ippolit. But why don’t I feel any pain?

            The Prince. Because your nerves are not nerves anymore, but

the clothing threads from merchant Karaganov’s shop. Those are same threads that were used by the six-year-old Sonya Marmeladova to sew on the hand of her doll. It was on Thursday night, when the first snow just fell.

            Nastasya Filippovna (waves her fan). Let’s drink Champagne, gentlemen. Perhaps, we’ll be more joyous!

            Everyone drinks champagne.

            Nastasya Filippovna. And, at last, tell me a story about anything.

            The Prince. What exactly?

            Nastasya Filippovna. Well, anything about your childhood.

            M1. We lived near the last subway stop.

            W2. That’s where there are dead poplars with sawed off branches?

            M1. Yes.

            M3. And where is the brick hangar with eyes painted on it?

            M1. Exactly.

            M4. And where there is a leaking hydrant on the corner?

            M1. A post!

            W1. And where it stinks of sweat and piss from the beer-garden?

            M1. Yeah!

            M5. And where the cats are angry and have torn coats?

            M1. Indeed.

            M2. And where the tenant from the second floor has elephantism of his left arm?

            M1. Elephantism. Exactly. He didn’t come out often. Only in the mornings, to shop. He always hid his hand under the jacket. They called him Joe Frazer because Joe Frazer had a famous left hook. We sometimes looked into his kitchen window. He sat there drinking milk. With his right hand. And his left one was on the table. It was big and white, like a caterpillar. In the morning I went to school. It was dirty and enjoyable in the subway. You could frequently see a rat. I always carried a piece of brick with me. If I killed the rat, everything would be okay in school and I wouldn’t be called on. While I was in school, I killed 64 rats. I did not miss that day either. The rat was thin and angry, like an old woman from a newspaper kiosk. I broke its spinal cord,          and it tried to crawl away on its front paws. I smashed its cranium with the heel of my shoe and entered the subway. There were a lot of workers from the shoe factory and the tire plant. They crowded the platform and waited for the train. Tire plant workers, as usual, talked loudly and laughed coarsely, while shoe factory workers stood silently like dead men. Trains would arrive frequently and bellow terribly. And as the train arrived, I’d also begin bellowing. Not like a train, but like a plane. When the train came to a stop, everyone rushed inside. I would always be the last one to enter. I loved to get out quickly on the next stop, spit and enter the next train car. And, in this way, move through the whole train. This way, it wasn’t boring to ride. But on that day, tire plant workers squeezed in with such force that I could barely stand. The tire plant workers were always pushing wildly, laughing coarsely, fighting in bars and injuring each other. The shoe factory workers, on the other hand, were silent, walking around like dead men, drinking at home, beating their wives and hanging themselves. My friend told me that this happened because tire workers breathed in crude rubber, and shoe workers - leather. Rubber aroused and leather tranquilized. They squeezed me inside and pushed me against the back door. Which meant I couldn’t get out on the next stop. I turned away from them and began scratching the paint on the door. I wanted to scratch out T. Rex. And then IT happened to me. Someone pressed close to me, put his lips in my ear and began murmuring: “Elf, my elf.” And this murmur was like a dream. His right hand took my free hand and his left hand crawled into my pants. If he would have been a worker, I’d scream or hit his mug. But this man didn’t smell like a worker. He smelled like something clean and cheerful. Like a plane. And his hands were not worker’s hands. I saw one of his hands, it held mine. Mine was dark, with red spots and scratches, with bitten off nails. And his hand was big and white. He took my dick and it grew big at once. And we rode and rode like that. And he murmured in my ear: “Elf, my elf”. And then suddenly his hot tongue entered my ear. And I came in my pants at once. And the train bellowed and came to a stop. Everyone left the train car. But I stood near the door and cried. Then, a fat lady conductor entered the train car and said: “Get out of here.”

            M2. And we lived near the edge of a forest.

            M1. That’s where there are big stones overgrown with white moss?

            M2. Yeah.

            W1. And where the pines creak at night?

            M2. Indeed they do.

            M3. Where the hawk hovers in the warm air?

            M2. Yes.

            M4. And where the sign of Mars is carved on the oak?

            M2. It’s carved.

            W2. And the willow looks like a hunchbacked girl?

            M2. Exactly.

            M5. And the stuffed bear stands with a lantern in the anteroom?

            M2. My dead father killed this bear. And we lived with grandfather. And there was also a groom,

a cattle-farm woman, and a cook. My grandfather was a forest ranger. He was the head of all rangers.

And they looked after the forest. So that peasants wouldn’t chop it down and, so that it would grow better. Grandfather liked to play the harmonica and hunt. He went on far-off hunts with a retired Major and a superintendent. They hunted boars, fallow-deer and foxes. And he took me with him on hunts close by. These hunts were on heath-cocks and partridges. We had three hunting dogs - two hounds and a red setter named Dick. Dick had a problem - he couldn’t stay set. And that was my fault. We got Dick the summer before.

By then, I had already gone on many nearby hunts. My grandpa bought me a single-barreled Beretta. I was a good shot. Grandpa told me I would be a first-class hunter if I developed WILLPOWER. I didn’t have enough willpower. When they brought Dick, he was a puppy. Grandpa was very busy at that time, and he went on his forest errands every day. He instructed me to train Dick for wild game hunts. I trained him for hunting heath-cocks and partridges. Dick was first-class at sniffing them out,  but always made the same mistake: he didn’t stay set after seeing birds in the grass, but attacked them, letting them fly, running after them and barking. No matter how I yelled at him, he still couldn’t get it. Grandpa told me that I had to beat Dick so that he’d understand everything. But I couldn’t hit him. That’s why grandpa said I had weak WILLPOWER. So that summer grandpa and I went hunting. We walked over the ravine, went around the birch wood, and Dick instantly sniffed the tracks. At first I thought these were heath-cocks, but grandpa showed me the pinkie - they were partridges. Dick did well, the tracks led along the underbrush and soon stopped before a rye field. Heath-cocks would never go through the rye - they’d get stuck among the ears of rye. But partridges were small enough, and they went into the rye. The rye was high-grown. I saw Dick’s head flashing in the distance. Suddenly, he raised the heath-cocks, running after them barking. The heath-cocks fenned out as they flew up. We shot at them and one dropped. As we went to retrieve it, we stumbled upon Dick. He lay in the rye. Several small shots got him in the head. Dick trembled slightly and was dying. And grandpa said: “That’s the result of the absence of WILLPOWER. If you had beaten Dick last summer, he wouldn’t get into the crossfire now. Lower your pants.” I lowered my pants. “Lie down on top of Dick.” I lay down on top of Dick. Grandpa took off the belt from the rifle and whipped me. He whipped me briefly but strongly. And I lay on top of warm Dick and cried.

            W1. And I lived in a big old house.

            M1. The one that had a yellow creaking staircase inside?

            W1. Yes.

            M2. And that had a marble fire-place that looked like an old crying man?

      &n