![]() | CHAPTER IX A Hero of Our Time | ![]() |
9. CHAPTER IX
"'LISTEN, Maksim Maksimych,' said Pechorin. 'Mine is an unfortunate disposition; whether it is the result of my upbringing or whether it is innate — I know not. I only know this, that if I am the cause of unhappiness in others I myself am no less unhappy. Of course, that is a poor consolation to them — only the fact remains that such is the case. In my early youth, from the moment I ceased to be under the guardianship of my relations, I began madly to enjoy all the pleasures which money could buy — and, of course, such pleasures became irksome to me. Then I launched out into the world of fashion — and that, too, soon palled upon me. I fell in love with fashionable beauties and was loved by them, but my imagination and egoism alone were aroused; my heart remained empty. . . I began to read, to study — but sciences also became utterly wearisome to me. I saw that neither fame nor happiness depends on them in the least, because the happiest
"'As soon as I can, I shall set off — but not to Europe. Heaven forfend! I shall go to America, to Arabia, to India — perchance I shall die somewhere on the way. At any rate, I am convinced that, thanks to storms and bad roads, that last consolation will not quickly be exhausted!'
"For a long time he went on speaking thus, and his words have remained stamped upon my memory, because it was the first time that I had heard such things from a man of five-and-twenty — and Heaven grant it may be the last. Isn't it astonishing? Tell me, please," continued the staff-captain, appealing to me. "You used to live in the Capital, I think, and that not so very long ago. Is it possible that the young men there are all like that?"
I replied that there were a good many people who used the same sort of language, that, probably, there might even be some who spoke in all sincerity; that disillusionment, moreover, like all other vogues, having had its beginning in the higher strata of society, had descended to the
"Anyhow, I suppose it was the French who introduced the fashion?"
"No, the English."
"Aha, there you are!" he answered. "They always have been arrant drunkards, you know!"
Involuntarily I recalled to mind a certain lady, living in Moscow, who used to maintain that Byron was nothing more nor less than a drunkard. However, the staff-captain's observation was more excusable; in order to abstain from strong drink, he naturally endeavoured to convince himself that all the misfortunes in the world are the result of drunkenness.
![]() | CHAPTER IX A Hero of Our Time | ![]() |