Dubrovskii
"The moon was shining. It was still July night. The wind rose now and then, and a light rustle ran over the entire garden.
Like a light shadow, the young beauty drew near the appointed meeting place. Nobody was yet in sight. Suddenly Dubrovskii, coming out from behind the arbor, appeared in front of her
(...)
'My unhappy destiny,' he said with a bitter sigh. 'I would give my life for you; just to see you from a distance, to touch your hand used to be ecstasy for me. And now, when there might be an opportunity for me to clasp you to my agitated heart and say, 'Angel! Let us die together!'- now I have to beware of happiness, have to avoid it, unlucky creature that I am, by every means possible. I dare not throw myself at your feet and thank heaven for an inexplicable, undeserved reward. Oh, how I ought to hate the man who...but I feel that at this moment there can be no room for hatred in my heart.'
He gently put his arm around her slender waist and gently drew her near to his heart.She leaned her head trustingly on the young robber's shoulder."
The beauty of one word- robber! Makes a world of difference!
The Blackamoor of Peter the Great
"The Countess, frightened of her violence of his passion, tried to counter with friendly exhortations and prudent admonitions, but all in vain; she herself was awakening. Incautiously granted favors followed one another in quick succession. And at last, carried away by the force of the passion she herself inspired, overpowered by its moment, she gave herself to the ecstatic Ibrahim..."
Such an interesting pair.
The Blizzard
"'Oh my God, oh my God,' said Maria Gavrilovna, seizing his hand, 'so it was you? And you don't recognize me?'
Burmin blushed and threw himself at her feet..."
The Undertaker
"The room was full of corpses. The moon shining through the windows lit up their yellow and blue faces, gaping mouths, murky half-closed eyes, and protruding noses... To his horror Adrian recognized in them the people who had been buried through his efforts, and in the guest entering with him, the brigadier whose funeral had taken place in the pelting rain. (...) All the others were properly dressed, the lady corpses in caps and ribbons, the gentle men of rank in uniform, though with their chins unshaven, and the merchants in their holiday outfits."
It is as if they continued being who they were in the afterlife. It also gives the impression that it ridicules our activities and ambitions once we are dead. For what difference does it make whether the ladies were in "caps and ribbons"? It seems as if all the efforts that were so treasured in real life are mere petty trifles in the afterlife. -They are beyond not being important, they are childish.
The Queen of Spades
"From that time on, not one day passed without the young men arriving at a certain hour, under the windows of the house. An undefined relationship was established between him and her. Sitting in her place over her work, she could sense his approach; she raised her head and looked at him longer with each day. The young man seemed to be grateful for it: she could see with her keen young eyes that a sudden blush spread over his pale cheeks each time their glances met. By the end of the week she gave him a smile..."
Marvelously said - "undefined relationship"; for who can define it? Who can define what is not mean to be defined? And that is the beauty and romantic aspect of it.
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I remember reading this book- remember thinking how nothing can be better than to snuggle up with a Pushkin book. :) It really is something. I love the way the book was organized- and all of his works! Pushkin is so similar to Turgenev, or rather the other way around. They both have this marvelous 'vagueness' about their works, how they slightly define the fragile, but not enough to impose on it.
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