the man who was afraid-第1节

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The　Man　Who　Was　Afraid

by　Maxim　Gorky

Translated　by　Herman　Bernstein




INTRODUCTORY　NOTE。

OUT　of　the　darkest　depths　of　life；　where　vice　and　crime　and　misery　abound；　comes　the　Byron　of　the　twentieth　century；　the　poet　of　the　vagabond　and　the　proletariat；　Maxim　Gorky。　Not　like　the　beggar；　humbly　imploring　for　a　crust　in　the　name　of　the　Lord；　nor　like　the　jeweller　displaying　his　precious　stones　to　dazzle　and　tempt　the　eye；　he　comes　to　the　world；nay；　in　accents　of　Tyrtaeus　this　commoner　of　Nizhni　Novgorod　spurs　on　his　troops　of　freedom…loving　heroes　to　conquer；　as　it　were；　the　placid；　self…　satisfied　literatures　of　to…day；　and　bring　new　life　to　pale；　bloodless　frames。

Like　Byron's　impassioned　utterances；　〃borne　on　the　tones　of　a　wild　and　quite　artless　melody；〃　is　Gorky's　mad；　unbridled；　powerful　voice；　as　he　sings　of　the　〃madness　of　the　brave；〃　of　the　barefooted　dreamers；　who　are　proud　of　their　idleness；　who　possess　nothing　and　fear　nothing；　who　are　gay　in　their　misery；　though　miserable　in　their　joy。

Gorky's　voice　is　not　the　calm；　cultivated；　well…balanced　voice　of　Chekhov；　the　Russian　De　Maupassant；　nor　even　the　apostolic；　well…　meaning；　but　comparatively　faint　voice　of　Tolstoy；　the　preacher：　it　is　the　roaring　of　a　lion；　the　crash　of　thunder。　In　its　elementary　power　is　the　heart。　rending　cry　of　a　sincere　but　suffering　soul　that　saw　the　brutality　of　life　in　all　its　horrors；　and　now　flings　its　experiences　into　the　face　of　the　world　with　unequalled　sympathy　and　the　courage　of　a　giant。

For　Gorky；　above　all；　has　courage；　he　dares　to　say　that　he　finds　the　vagabond；　the　outcast　of　society；　more　sublime　and　significant　than　society　itself。

His　Bosyak；　the　symbolic　incarnation　of　the　Over…man；　is　as　naive　and　as　bold　as　a　childor　as　a　genius。　In　the　vehement　passions　of　the　magnanimous；　compassionate　hero　in　tatters；　in　the　aristocracy　of　his　soul；　and　in　his　constant　thirst　for　Freedom；　Gorky　sees　the　rebellious　and　irreconcilable　spirit　of　man；　of　future　man；in　these　he　sees　something　beautiful；　something　powerful；　something　monumental；　and　is　carried　away　by　their　strange　psychology。　For　the　barefooted　dreamer's　life　is　Gorky's　life；　his　ideals　are　Gorky's　ideals；　his　pleasures　and　pains；　Gorky's　pleasures　and　pains。

And　Gorky；　though　broken　in　health　now；　buffeted　by　the　storms　of　fate；　bruised　and　wounded　in　the　battle…field　of　life；　still　like　Byron　and　like　Lermontov；

〃seeks　the　storm　As　though　the　storm　contained　repose。〃

And　in　a　leonine　voice　he　cries　defiantly：

〃Let　the　storm　rage　with　greater　force　and　fury！〃

HERMAN　BERNSTEIN。

September　20；　1901。



FOMA　GORDYEEF

Dedicated　to

ANTON　P。　CHEKHOV

By

Maxim　Gorky

CHAPTER　I

ABOUT　sixty　years　ago；　when　fortunes　of　millions　had　been　made　on　the　Volga　with　fairy…tale　rapidity；　Ignat　Gordyeeff；　a　young　fellow；　was　working　as　water…pumper　on　one　of　the　barges　of　the　wealthy　merchant　Zayev。

Built　like　a　giant；　handsome　and　not　at　all　stupid；　he　was　one　of　those　people　whom　luck　always　follows　everywherenot　because　they　are　gifted　and　industrious；　but　rather　because；　having　an　enormous　stock　of　energy　at　their　command；　they　cannot　stop　to　think　over　the　choice　of　means　when　on　their　way　toward　their

aims；　and；　excepting　their　own　will；　they　know　no　law。　Sometimes　they　speak　of　their　conscience　with　fear；　sometimes　they　really　torture　themselves　struggling　with　it；　but　conscience　is　an　unconquerable　power　to　the　faint…hearted　only；　the　strong　master　it　quickly　and　make　it　a　slave　to　their　desires；　for　they　unconsciously　feel　that；　given　room　and　freedom；　conscience　would　fracture　life。　They　sacrifice　days　to　it；　and　if　it　should　happen　that　conscience　conquered　their　souls；　they　are　never　wrecked；　even　in　defeatthey　are　just　as　healthy　and　strong　under　its　sway　as　when　they　lived　without　conscience。

At　the　age　of　forty　Ignat　Gordyeeff　was　himself　the　owner　of　three　steamers　and　ten　barges。　On　the　Volga　he　was　respected　as　a　rich　and　clever　man；　but　was　nicknamed　〃Frantic；〃　because　his　life　did　not　flow　along　a　straight　channel；　like　that　of　other　people　of　his　kind；　but　now　and　again；　boiling　up　turbulently；　ran　out　of　its　rut；　away　from　gain　the　prime　aim　of　his　existence。　It　looked　as　though　there　were　three　Gordyeeffs　in　him；　or　as　though　there　were　three　souls　in　Ignat's　body。　One　of　them；　the　mightiest；　was　only　greedy；　and　when　Ignat　lived　according　to　its　commands；　he　was　merely　a　man　seized　with　untamable　passion　for　work。　This　passion　burned　in　him　by　day　and　by　night；　he　was　completely　absorbed　by　it；　and；　grabbing　everywhere　hundreds　and　thousands　of　roubles；　it　seemed　as　if　he　could　never　have　enough　of　the　jingle　and　sound　of　money。　He　worked　about　up　and　down　the　Volga；　building　and　fastening　nets　in　which　he　caught　gold：　he　bought　up　grain　in　the　villages；　floated　it　to　Rybinsk　on　his　barges；　he　plundered；　cheated；　sometimes　not　noticing　it；　sometimes　noticing；　and；　triumphant；　be　openly　laughed　at　by　his　victims；　and　in　the　senselessness　of　his　thirst　for　money；　he　rose　to　the　heights　of　poetry。　But；　giving　up　so　much　strength　to　this　hunt　after　the　rouble；　he　was　not　greedy　in　the　narrow　sense；　and　sometimes　he　even　betrayed　an　inconceivable　but　sincere　indifference　to　his　property。　Once；　when　the　ice　was　drifting　down　the　Volga；　he　stood　on　the　shore；　and；　seeing　that　the　ice　was　breaking　his　new　barge；　having　crushed　it　against　the　bluff　shore；　he　ejaculated：

〃That's　it。　Again。　Crush　it！　Now；　once　more！　Try！〃

〃Well；　Ignat；〃　asked　his　friend　Mayakin；　coming　up　to　him；　〃the　ice　is　crushing　about　ten　thousand　out　of　your　purse；　eh？〃

〃That's　nothing！　I'll　make　another　hundred。　But　look　how　the　Volga　is　working！　Eh？　Fine？　She　can　split　the　whole　world；　like　curd；　with　a　knife。　Look；　look！　There　you　have　my　'Boyarinya！'　She　floated　but　once。　Well；　we'll　have　mass　said　for　the　dead。〃

The　barge　was　crushed　into　splinters。　Ignat　and　the　godfather；　sitting　in　the　tavern　on　the　shore；　drank　vodka　and　looked　out　of　the　window；　watching　the　fragments　of　the　〃Boyarinya〃　drifting　down　the　river　together　with　the　ice。

〃Are　you　sorry　for　the　vessel；　Ignat？〃　asked　Mayakin。

〃Why　should　I　be　sorry　for　it？　The　Volga　gave　it　to　me；　and　the　Volga　has　taken　it　back。　It　did　not　tear　off　my　hand。〃

〃Nevertheless。〃

〃Whatnevertheless？　It　is　good　at　least　that　I　saw　how　it　was　all　done。　It's　a　lesson　for　the　future。　But　when　my　'Volgar'　was　burnedI　was　really　sorryI　didn't　see　it。　How　beautiful　it　must　have　looked　when　such　a　woodpile　was　blazing　on　the　water　in　the　dark　night！　Eh？　It　was　an　enormous　steamer。〃

〃Weren't　you　sorry　for　that　either？〃

〃For　the　steamer？　It　is　true；　I　did　feel　sorry　for　the　steamer。　But　then　it　is　mere　foolishness　to　feel　sorry！　What's　the　use？　I　might　have　cried；　tears　cannot　extinguish　fire。　Let　the　steamers　burn。　And　even　though　everything　be　burned　down；　I'd　spit　upon　it！　If　the　soul　is　but　burning　to　work；　everything　will　be　erected　anew。　Isn't　it　so？〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Mayakin；　smiling。　〃These　are　strong　words　you　say。　And　whoever　speaks　that　way；　even　though　he　loses　all；　will　nevertheless　be　rich。〃

Regarding　losses　of　thousands　of　roubles　so　philosophically；　Ignat　knew　the　value　of　every　kopeika；　he　gave　to　the　poor　very　seldom；　and　only　to　those　that　were　altogether　unable　to　work。　When　a　more　or　less　healthy　man　asked　him　for　alms；　Ignat　would　say；　sternly：

〃Get　away！　You　can　work　yet。　Go　to　my　dvornik　and　help　him　to　remove　the　dung。　I'll　pay　you　for　it。〃

Whenever　he　had　been　carried　away　by　his　work　he　regarded　people　morosely　and　piteously；　nor　did　he　give　himself　rest　while　hunting　for　roubles。　And　suddenlyit　usually　happened　in　spring；　when　everything　on　earth　became　so　bewitchingly　beautiful　and　something　reproachfully　wild　was　breathed　down　into　the　soul　from　the　clear　skyIgnat　Gordyeeff　would　feel　that　he　was　not　the　master　of　his　business；　but　its　low　slave。　He　would　lose　himself　in　thought　and；　inquisitively　looking　about　himself　from　under　his　thick；　knitted　eyebrows；　walk　about　for　days；　angry　and　morose；　as　though　silently　asking　something；　which　he　feared　to　ask　aloud。　They　awakened　his　other　soul；　the　turbulent　and　lustful　soul　of　a　hungry　beast。　Insolent　and　cynical；　he　drank；　led　a　depraved　life；　and　made　drunkards　of　other　people。　He　went　into　ecstasy；　and　something　like　a　volcano　of　filth　boiled　within　him。　It　looked　as　though　he　was　madly　tearing　the　chains　which　he　himself　had　forged　and　carried；　and　was　not　strong　enough　to　tear　them。　Excited　and　very　dirty；　his　face　swollen　from　drunkenness　and　sleeplessness；　his　eyes　wandering　madly；　and　roaring　in　a　hoarse　voice；　he　tramped　about　the　town　from　one　tavern　to　another；　threw　away　money　without　counting　it；　cried　and　danced　to　the　sad　tunes　of　the　folk　songs；　or　fought；　but　found　no　rest　anywherein　anything。

It　happened　one　day　that　a　degraded　priest；　a　short；　stout　little　bald…headed　man　in　a　torn　cassock；　chanced　on　Ignat；　and　stuck　to　him；　just　as　a　piece　of　mud　will　stick　to　a　shoe。　An　impersonal；　deformed　and　nasty　creature；　he　played　the　part　of　a　buffoon：　they　smeared　his　bald　head　with　mustard；　made　him　go　upon　all…　fours；　drink　mixtures　of　different　brandies　and　dance　comical　dance