The Golovlevs by M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin

Author:M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin [Saltykov-Shchedrin, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786690043
Publisher: Apollo

‘Ah, but it wasn’t for the three thousand roubles, that’s the point. We just think it was, and so we keep on about the three thousand. But God...’

Judas was about to expatiate and explain in detail that God... and Providence... by unseen ways... and so on, but Anninka unceremoniously yawned and said:

‘Oh, Uncle! It’s so boring here!’

This time Porfiry Vladimirych was seriously offended and fell silent. For a long time they walked up and down the dining-room side by side, with Anninka yawning and Porfiry Vladimirych crossing himself at every corner. At last the horses were reported to be ready and the usual comedy of familial leave-taking began. Golovlev put on his fur top-coat, went out on to the steps, exchanged kisses with Anninka, called to the servants: ‘Tuck up her legs! Tuck them up warm!’ and ‘The kutya! Have you got some? Dearie me, you mustn’t forget that!’ at the same time making the sign of the cross in the air.

Anninka went to her grandmother’s grave, asked the parish priest of Voplino to hold a requiem, and when the chanters dolefully began singing ‘Eternal memory...’ she shed a few tears. The setting for the ceremony was a dismal one. The church where Arina Petrovna was buried was of the poorer kind; the plaster had fallen away in places and exposed large patches of the brickwork beneath; the bell made a faint, muffled sound; the priest’s chasuble was old and worn. Deep snow covered the cemetery and a pathway had to be dug in order to reach the grave; there was as yet no monument, only a plain white cross without even any inscription. The cemetery was isolated, remote from any habitation; close to the church was a cluster of black-weathered timber houses occupied by the priest and church servitors, but otherwise all around in every direction there stretched the desolate snowy plain with odd spikes of brushwood sticking out above its surface. A keen March wind swept across the cemetery, constantly tugging at the priest’s chasuble and carrying away the sound of the chanters’ singing.

‘And who would think, ma’am, that by the side of our poor church and beneath this humble cross there should have found repose she who was once the wealthiest landowner in the district!’ said the priest when the service was over.

Hearing these words, Anninka shed a few more tears. She remembered the line ‘On the table that once groaned with foodthere stands a coffin now’ and the tears poured from her eyes. She then went into the priest’s house, had tea, and chatted with his wife, recalled again ‘and pallid death regards us all’, * and again she wept long and copiously.

There was no forewarning of the mistress’s arrival in Pogorelka, so even the living-rooms of the house had not been heated. Without taking off her fur coat, Anninka went through all the rooms, only stopping for a moment in her grandmother’s room and in the oratory. In the former was her grand- mother’s bed, on which still lay a disorderly pile of greasy feather quilts and a few pillows without cases.

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