The Possessed | Page 9

it appeared that Moscow too was unsatisfactory.
It was a peculiar time; something new was beginning, quite unlike the
stagnation of the past, something very strange too, though it was felt
everywhere, even at Skvoreshniki. Rumours of all sorts reached us. The
facts were generally more or less well known, but it was evident that in
addition to the facts there were certain ideas accompanying them, and
what's more, a great number of them. And this was perplexing. It was
impossible to estimate and find out exactly what was the drift of these
ideas. Varvara Petrovna was prompted by the feminine composition of
her character to a compelling desire to penetrate the secret of them. She
took to reading newspapers and magazines, prohibited publications
printed abroad and even the revolutionary manifestoes which were just
beginning to appear at the time (she was able to procure them all); but
this only set her head in a whirl. She fell to writing letters; she got few
answers, and they grew more incomprehensible as time went on.
Stepan Trofimovitch was solemnly called upon to explain "these ideas"
to her once for all, but she remained distinctly dissatisfied with his
explanations.
Stepan Trofimovitch's view of the general movement was supercilious
in the extreme. In his eyes all it amounted to was that he was forgotten

and of no use. At last his name was mentioned, at first in periodicals
published abroad as that of an exiled martyr, and immediately
afterwards in Petersburg as that of a former star in a celebrated
constellation. He was even for some reason compared with Radishtchev.
Then some one printed the statement that he was dead and promised an
obituary notice of him. Stepan Trofimovitch instantly perked up and
assumed an air of immense dignity. All his disdain for his
contemporaries evaporated and he began to cherish the dream of
joining the movement and showing his powers. Varvara Petrovna's
faith in everything instantly revived and she was thrown into a violent
ferment. It was decided to go to Petersburg without a moment's delay,
to find out everything on the spot, to go into everything personally, and,
if possible, to throw themselves heart and soul into the new movement.
Among other things she announced that she was prepared to found a
magazine of her own, and henceforward to devote her whole life to it.
Seeing what it had come to, Stepan Trofimovitch became more
condescending than ever, and on the journey began to behave almost
patronisingly to Varvara Petrovnawhich she at once laid up in her heart
against him. She had, however, another very important reason for the
trip, which was to renew her connections in higher spheres. It was
necessary, as far as she could, to remind the world of her existence, or
at any rate to make an attempt to do so. The ostensible object of the
journey was to see her only son, who was just finishing his studies at a
Petersburg lyceum.
VI
They spent almost the whole winter season in Petersburg. But by Lent
everything burst like a rainbow-coloured soap-bubble.
Their dreams were dissipated, and the muddle, far from being cleared
up, had become even more revoltingly incomprehensible. To begin
with, connections with the higher spheres were not established, or only
on a microscopic scale, and by humiliating exertions. In her
mortification Varvara Petrovna threw herself heart and soul into the
"new ideas," and began giving evening receptions. She invited literary
people, and they were brought to her at once in multitudes. Afterwards
they came of themselves without invitation, one brought another. Never
had she seen such literary men. They were incredibly vain, but quite
open in their vanity, as though they were performing a duty by the

display of it. Some (but by no means all) of them even turned up
intoxicated, seeming, however, to detect in this a peculiar, only recently
discovered, merit. They were all strangely proud of something. On
every face was written that they had only just discovered some
extremely important secret. They abused one another, and took credit to
themselves for it. It was rather difficult to find out what they had
written exactly, but among them there were critics, novelists, dramatists,
satirists, and exposers of abuses. Stepan Trofimovitch penetrated into
their very highest circle from which the movement was directed.
Incredible heights had to be scaled to reach this group; but they gave
him a cordial welcome, though, of course, no one of them had ever
heard of him or knew anything about him except that he "represented
an idea." His manoeuvres among them were so successful that he got
them twice to Varvara Petrovna's salon in spite of their Olympian
grandeur. These people were very serious and very polite; they behaved
nicely; the others were evidently afraid of them;