By Fyodor Dostoevsky
Awarded as a sequence of letters among the common-or-garden copying-clerk Devushkin and relative of his, the younger Varenka, terrible humans brings to the fore the underclass of St Petersburg, who reside on the margins of society within the so much appalling stipulations and abject poverty. As Devushkin attempts to aid Varenka enhance her plight via promoting whatever he can, he's lowered to much more determined situations and seeks shelter in alcohol, depending on helplessly because the item of his most unlikely love is taken clear of him.Introducing the 1st in a protracted line of “underground” characters, bad humans, Dostoevsky’s first full-length paintings of fiction, is a poignant, tragi-comic story which foreshadows the greatness of his later novels.
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Extra resources for Poor People
Of course, my present accommodation is good as well, even in a certain way more cheerful and, if you like, more varied; I’m not saying anything against it, but still I do feel regret about the old place. We old people, those who aren’t as young as they were, that is, get used to our old things as if they were part of the family. The place was just a little one, you know; the walls were… well, what can you say! – the walls were like any other walls, they’re not the point, but it’s the memories of everything in my past that make me feel depressed… It’s a funny thing – it’s hard, but it’s as if the memories were pleasant.
A midshipman lives here; and an English teacher lives here. Hang on, I’ll amuse you, my dear; I’ll describe them in a future letter satirically, that is, what they’re like individually, in full detail. Our landlady – a very small, dirty old woman – goes about all day wearing slippers and a housecoat and keeps shouting all day at Tereza. I live in the kitchen, although it will be much more correct to put it like this: there is one room here alongside the kitchen (and you should note that our kitchen is clean, bright and very nice), a small room, a modest little corner… that is, or to put it even better, the kitchen is large, with three windows, and along the perpendicular wall I have a partition, so that it works out as if there were another room, a supernumerary room; everything’s spacious, convenient, and there’s a window and everything – in a word, everything’s convenient.
She criticized my father continually; she said he had wanted to be better than other people, but it had turned out badly; that he had made his wife and daughter beggars, and if a beneficent relative had not turned up, a compassionate Christian soul, then God knows, we might have been forced to starve to death in the middle of the street. The things she said! It was not so much bitter as repugnant to listen to her. My mother cried continually; her health became worse from day to day, she was visibly failing, yet at the same time we worked from dawn till dusk, sewing to order, which did not please Anna Fyodorovna at all; she repeated continually that she did not keep a fashion house in her home.