Subject: Seymour and Brothers K
From: Paul Miller (phm@midsouth.rr.com)
Date: Thu Feb 17 2000 - 02:05:21 EST
These two quotes from The Brothers Karamazov seemed apropos to Seymour.
. But, on my oath, I looked at her for three seconds, or five
perhaps, with fearful hatred- that hate which is only a hair's-breadth
from love, from the maddest love!
"I went to the window, put my forehead against the frozen pane,
and I remember the ice burnt my forehead like fire. I did not keep her
long, don't be afraid. I turned round, went up to the table, opened
the drawer and took out a banknote for five thousand roubles (it was
lying in a French dictionary). Then I showed it her in silence, folded
it, handed it to her, opened the door into the passage, and,
stepping back, made her a deep bow. a most respectful, a most
impressive bow, believe me! She shuddered all over, gazed at me for
a second, turned horribly pale-white as a sheet, in fact- and all at
once, not impetuously but softly, gently, bowed down to my feet- not a
boarding-school curtsey, but a Russian bow, with her forehead to the
floor. She jumped up and ran away. I was wearing my sword. I drew it
and nearly stabbed myself with it on the spot; why, I don't know. It
would have been frightfully stupid, of course. I suppose it was from
delight. Can you understand that one might kill oneself from
delight? But I didn't stab myself. I only kissed my sword and put it
back in the scabbard- which there was no need to have told you, by the way.
-------------------------------------
Those impressions are dear to him and no doubt he hoards them imperceptibly,
and even unconsciously. How and why, of course, he does not know
either. He may suddenly, after hoarding impressions for many years,
abandon everything and go off to Jerusalem on a pilgrimage for his
soul's salvation, or perhaps he will suddenly set fire to his native
village, and perhaps do both. There are a good many "contemplatives"
among the peasantry. Well, Smerdyakov was probably one of them, and he
probably was greedily hoarding up his impressions, hardly knowing why.
Paul
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