NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND

IN UNDERTAKING to describe the recent and strange incidents in our town, till lately wrapped in uneventful obscurity, I find myself forced in absence of literary skill to begin my story rather far back, that is to say, with certain biographical details concerning that talented and highly-esteemed gentleman, Stepan Trofimovitch Verhovensky. I trust that these details may at least serve as an introduction, while my projected story itself will come later.

I will say at once that Stepan Trofimovitch had always filled a particular rôle among us, that of the progressive patriot, so to say, and he was passionately fond of playing the part-so much so that I really believe he could not have existed without it. Not that I would put him on a level with an actor at a theatre, God forbid, for I really have a respect for him. This may all have been the effect of habit, or rather, more exactly of a generous propensity he had from his earliest years for indulging in an agreeable day-dream in which he figured as a picturesque public character.

Demons

Fiodor Mikhailovitch Dostoievski est un ecrivain russe, ne a Moscou en 1821 et mort a Saint-Petersbourg 1881. Considere comme l'un des plus grands romanciers russes, il a influence de nombreux ecrivains et philosophes. "Un roman en neuf lettres" est une tres courte nouvelle ecrite en une nuit au cours du mois d'octobre 1845, et parue en janvier 1847. Dans cette nouvelle en... 9 lettres, on decouvre un echange epistolaire a la fin ubuesque.  Une oeuvre de jeunesse qui annonce toute l'oeuvre future de Dostoievski sur l'ame humaine. Texte integral."

Roman En Neuf Lettres

Ce roman conçu sous forme d’échange épistolaire entre deux personnages – Macaire Alexéïevitch Diévouchkine, vieux fonctionnaire, et Varvara Alexéïevna Dobrossiélova, jeune parente éloignée – est le premier roman de Dostoïevski. Mêlant récits d’enfance et petits évènements du quotidien qui se vit dans la plus grande précarité, ce roman est avant tout le début d’une grande aventure littéraire où Macaire Alexéïevitch Diévouchkine écrit, sans doute, dans une dernière lettre qu’il n’envoie pas, le propre dessein de l’auteur : « Vous savez, je ne sais même plus ce que j'écris, je ne sais plus rien, je ne me relis même pas, je ne me corrige pas. J'écris seulement pour écrire, pour m'entretenir avec vous un peu plus longtemps... »

Les Pauvres Gens

Cette jolie nouvelle très fraîche, malgré la pesanteur des sentiments ressentis par certains personnages, nous invite à découvrir les tout premiers émois amoureux d’un jeune garçon de onze ans, sensible à la tristesse de Mme Nathalie M…, femme mariée, vraisemblablement malheureuse…Parue en 1857 dans Les Annales de la Patrie, cette nouvelle aurait été écrite lors de son incarcération à la forteresse Pierre-et-Paul, au prétexte d’une participation à une réunion du cercle Petrachevski, admirateur de Fourier, longtemps surveillé par la police secrète du tsar.

Le Petit Héros

The Brothers Karamasov is a murder mystery, a courtroom drama, and an exploration of erotic rivalry in a series of triangular love affairs involving the “wicked and sentimental” Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov and his three sons―the impulsive and sensual Dmitri; the coldly rational Ivan; and the healthy, red-cheeked young novice Alyosha. Through the gripping events of their story, Dostoevsky portrays the whole of Russian life, is social and spiritual striving, in what was both the golden age and a tragic turning point in Russian culture.This award-winning translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky remains true to the verbalinventiveness of Dostoevsky’s prose, preserving the multiple voices, the humor, and the surprising modernity of the original. It is an achievement worthy of Dostoevsky’s last and greatest novel.

Les Frères Karamazov

Towards the end of November, during a thaw, at nine o'clock one morning, a train on the Warsaw and Petersburg railway was approaching the latter city at full speed. The morning was so damp and misty that it was only with great difficulty that the day succeeded in breaking; and it was impossible to distinguish anything more than a few yards away from the carriage windows.

Some of the passengers by this particular train were returning from abroad; but the third-class carriages were the best filled, chiefly with insignificant persons of various occupations and degrees, picked up at the different stations nearer town. All of them seemed weary, and most of them had sleepy eyes and a shivering expression, while their complexions generally appeared to have taken on the colour of the fog outside.

When day dawned, two passengers in one of the third-class carriages found themselves opposite each other. Both were young fellows, both were rather poorly dressed, both had remarkable faces, and both were evidently anxious to start a conversation. If they had but known why, at this particular moment, they were both remarkable persons, they would undoubtedly have wondered at the strange chance which had set them down opposite to one another in a third-class carriage of the Warsaw Railway Company.

The Idiot

At length I returned from two weeks leave of absence to find that my patrons had arrived three days ago in Roulettenberg. I received from them a welcome quite different to that which I had expected. The General eyed me coldly, greeted me in rather haughty fashion, and dismissed me to pay my respects to his sister. It was clear that from SOMEWHERE money had been acquired. I thought I could even detect a certain shamefacedness in the General's glance. Maria Philipovna, too, seemed distraught, and conversed with me with an air of detachment. Nevertheless, she took the money which I handed to her, counted it, and listened to what I had to tell. To luncheon there were expected that day a Monsieur Mezentsov, a French lady, and an Englishman; for, whenever money was in hand, a banquet in Muscovite style was always given. Polina Alexandrovna, on seeing me, inquired why I had been so long away. Then, without waiting for an answer, she departed. Evidently this was not mere accident, and I felt that I must throw some light upon matters. It was high time that I did so.

The Gambler

"Alexis Ivanovitch joue d'abord pour gagner; puis, pour étonner, enfin pour espérer. Il n'a pas misé seulement de l'argent, mais sa vie elle- même. Ce récit suit comme une ombre la vie de Dostoïevski, durant quinze ans, à Moscou et à Baden-Baden, où il se ruina au jeu.Ce court roman, plen de brio, annonce toute l'oeuvre de Dostoïevski. "Demain, demain tout cela finira", dit le joueur qui recommence à jouer éternellement."

NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND

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