Netochka Nezvanova

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

‘Oh, you foolish child!’ she said. ‘Still crying over dreams at your age. Come on, enough now!’

mmm she’s called a foolish child for dream very often in this book.

‘You’ll make yourself ill, like me,’

At last he kissed his violin and then handed it to me to kiss.

the gesture or kissing Christ and handing it to other mass-goers to kiss. indeed now both of them are under the impression that this instrument will somehow save them along with Efimov’s ‘virtuosity’.

‘It’s music,’ I said, looking at father. ‘Yes, yes, it’s music,’ he repeated, rubbing his hands together joyfully. ‘You are a clever child, a good child!’

he never praises her with good heart, though.

little by little my love, or perhaps I should say my passion (for I do not know a word strong enough to express fully my overwhelming, anguished feelings for my father), reached a kind of morbid anxiety.

I had to side with one or the other and I took the side of the half-crazy man because he seemed to me so pitiful, so humiliated, and because he aroused my fantasy.

twenty-five roubles for a ticket.

that’s rodya’s whole net worth lmaoooo

His motto is “Aut Caesar, aut nihil”, as if one could become Caesar just like that. He thirsts for fame. But if such feeling becomes the main source of an artist’s activity then he ceases to be an artist, for he has lost the artist’s chief instinct, which must be to love art simply because it is art, and not for its rewards.

MMMMMMM DELICIOSO QUOTE.

It must be terrible to part with a fixed idea to which one’s whole life has been dedicated, and which rests on genuine foundations, for he had a true vocation at first.’

His madness is stronger than the truth and he’ll quickly invent some counter-argument.’

lmao this isnt even related but this reminds me of modern-day atheism. atheism started as a valid and real critique on christianity but now it’s just mad denials of Truth. anti-christian ideology, that is. idk anything abt islam or judaism

I found it painful to listen to him; I knew that his words and endearments were insincere and it had a shattering effect on me.

felt at that moment that he was not really feeling sorry for me and that he neither loved me nor realized how much I loved him if he thought that I would do whatever he wanted just for sweets. I, the child, understood him thoroughly and I felt as if that understanding had wounded me for ever.

the first dostoyevsky tale of children suffering from their fathers. this will return in dostoyevsky’s works almost forty years later, in brothers karamazov :(

I felt as if I were under sentence of death.

There are moments when you go through more in your inner consciousness than in a whole lifetime.

understand that it was through sheer desperation that he was prompted to lead me again and again into sin, sacrificing my defenceless childhood and running the risk of disturbing still further my unstable mind.

comparisons to the devil

And now, huddled in my corner, I wondered why he promised me rewards for something I had made up my mind to do of my own free will.

‘Papa!… Surely… aren’t you coming with me?’ I said in a broken voice, thinking that my only hope was that he would intercede for me.

‘Mama, Mama,’ I said, sobbing, ‘why don’t you… why don’t you love Papa?’

‘My poor, poor child! And I never noticed how she was growing up. She knows everything, she knows everything! My God! What sort of ideas we’ve given her, what an example!’ And again she wrung her hands in despair. She came over to me and, with a frantic display of love, tears streaming down her face, she kissed me and begged my forgiveness. I have never seen so much suffering…

can picture them now: large, high-ceilinged and luxurious, but so grim and gloomy that I remember being afraid of making my way across the long drawing-room, in which I used to feel totally lost.

She has achieved that good house with red curtains, but at what cost? And this is nothing like the dream she had.

could see that the Princess evidently wanted nothing more than to embrace me heart and soul; to pet me and to take the place of my mother. But I was incapable of appreciating my good fortune and did nothing to impress her.

‘lacking in any naïveté’,

so now this family is bored of her for not being able to shape her. she really is treated like a netochka.

Everyone spoke in a whisper and went about on tiptoe;

this all indicates a feeling of oppression on netochka’s part

the hour of my presentation

Christ comparison again

I do not remember how the incident ended, but it was for this reason that I was glad to slip away downstairs, to be alone as I wandered through the spacious rooms, knowing that at least I was not disturbing anyone there.

Pray, my child, pray. We shall both pray,’ he said in a soft, broken voice. But I could not pray; I was overwhelmed, even frightened. I recalled my father’s words that last night, beside my mother’s body, and I had a nervous fit.

It was like a wail of despair, a lament, a prayer uttered in vain, echoing through the crowd and dying down in sorrow.

so here’s her entire dream with her father, played put before her in reality. but it’s so ugly and so terrifying for her due to all the trauma that caused her to come in this moment; she arrived to the house with the red curtains but for what? netochka is an outsider in both poverty and aristocracy.

‘No, this isn’t father, it’s his murderer,’ flashed through my mind. A sort of frenzy came over me, and it suddenly seemed that laughter was ringing out above me, reverberating through the room, in one concentrated roar.

From the moment I saw her, a feeling of happiness like a sweet premonition filled my soul. Try to imagine a face of idyllic charm and stunning, dazzling beauty; one of those before which you stop, transfixed in sweet confusion, trembling with delight; a face that makes you grateful for its existence, for allowing your eyes to fall upon it, for passing you by.

literally poetry. damn

She smiled at my gesture, and my frail nerves ached with a sweet ecstasy.

I awaited her visits with tremendous excitement; I longed to kiss her!

хааххах ян был правильно; они лесбиянки

still. To be always on the move, running and skipping and making a commotion about the house, was an absolute necessity to her.

AND she causes a ruckus, which says she goes against the tyranny of the old princess.

In short, I dreamt of her as if we were in love.

dostoyevsky what is this dostoyevsky. это ли гомосексуальности, достоевский, или… че

But what do you think about?’ ‘I think about you,’ I answered, after a pause. ‘Does it make you happy?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Then that means you must like me?’ ‘Yes.’

КАКОЙ РИЗЗ ХАХАХХАХАХА

She ran in, frenzied and giggling with glee because she had brought me something to eat that was forbidden.

….? как…

my heart began throbbing with joy.

probably the first time in this whole book where netochka had been truly happy. and where did it come from? ‘do you forgive me?’ ‘i do, i do!’ ehhehehe ily dostoyevsky

To be brief, and forgive me for what I am now about to say, I was in love with Katya. Yes, it was love, real love with all its ups and downs, real passionate love.

о окей так что гомосексуальность подтвердил

She was born for happiness, she must have been; that was the first impression she gave.

an exquisite sensation of awakened beauty speaking for the first time, and therein lay the source of my increasing love.

I WAS PREPARED FOR ANYTHING BUT A LESBIAN LOVE STORY. HOW. WHAT. КАК. КАК Я МОГУ ТЕПЕРЬ РЕАГИРОВАТЬ????? МНЕ ЗКАЗАЛИ И УЖЕ ЗНАЛА ЧТО НЕТОЧКА ЛЕСБИЯНКА НО Я НИКОГДА НЕ БЫ ДУМАЛА НЕ ДО ТАКОЙ СТЕПЕНИ????

‘Your throat is not covered,’ she said, gently touching my bare neck with her little finger. ‘There! Let me wrap it up.’

ризз

But, thank God, our walk was soon over. If it had lasted much longer I doubt whether I could have refrained from rushing over to kiss her in the street.

how

Katya was struck by one of her attacks of nerves, and her mother was beside herself with fright. The doctor came and did not know what to say.

ЛЕСБИЯНКАЯ БОЛЕЗНЬ ХАЗАХАЖХАА

ЧТО ПРОИСХОДИТ.

Tears quivered like little gems on her long lashes.

I thought: “If I just kiss her once, I’ll squeeze her to death.”

my heart, if I may say so, nearly bled with sympathy

more Christ comparison

I would become vehement in trying to prove my point, while Alexandra Mikhailovna would imperceptibly lead me the right way.

had dostoyevsky finished the novel, probably this would’ve been a foreshadowing to the relationship between netochka and alexandra m.

It may perhaps seem amusing that we became so excited and stayed up after midnight, I a mere child and she a stricken heart, burdened with the troubles of life!