The Torrents Of Spring

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About Turgenev: Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev (November 9 [O.S. October 28] 1818 – September 3 [O.S. August 22] 1883) was a major Russian novelist and playwright. His novel Fathers and Sons is regarded as a major work of 19th-century fiction. Source: Wikipedia Also available on Feedbooks for Turgenev: • Fathers and Sons (1862) • First Love (1860) • Home of the Gentry (1859) • Virgin Soil (1877) • Rudin (1857) • On the Eve (1860) • Mumu (1879) Note: This book is brought to you by Feedbooks http://www.feedbooks.com Strictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purposes. 2
‘Years of gladness, Days of joy, Like the torrents of spring <strong>The</strong>y hurried away.’ – From an Old Ballad. … At two o’clock in the night he had gone back to his study. He had dismissed the servant after the candles were lighted, and throwing himself into a low chair by the hearth, he hid his face in both hands. Never had he felt such weariness of body and of spirit. He had passed the whole evening in the company of charming ladies and cultivated men; some of the ladies were beautiful, almost all the men were distinguished by intellect or talent; he himself had talked with great success, even with brilliance … and, for all that, never yet had the taedium vitae of which the Romans talked of old, the ‘disgust for life’, taken hold of him with such irresistible, such suffocating force. Had he been a little younger, he would have cried with misery, weariness, and exasperation: a biting, burning bitterness, like the bitter of wormwood, filled his whole soul. A sort of clinging repugnance, a weight of loathing closed in upon him on all sides like a dark night of autumn; and he did not know how to get free from this darkness, this bitterness. Sleep it was useless to reckon upon; he knew he should not sleep. He fell to thinking … slowly, listlessly, wrathfully. He thought of the vanity, the uselessness, the vulgar falsity of all things human. All the stages of man’s life passed in order before his mental gaze (he had himself lately reached his fifty-second year), and not one found grace in his eyes. Everywhere the same ever-lasting pouring of water into a sieve, the ever-lasting beating of the air, everywhere the same self-deception – half in good faith, half conscious – any toy to amuse the child, so long as it keeps him from crying. And then, all of a sudden, old age drops down like snow on the head, and with it the ever-growing, ever-gnawing, and devouring dread of death … and the plunge into the abyss! Lucky indeed if life works out so to the end! May be, before the end, like rust on iron, sufferings, infirmities come… . He did not picture life’s sea, as the poets depict it, covered with tempestuous waves; no, he thought of that sea as a smooth, untroubled surface, stagnant and transparent to its darkest depths. He himself sits in a little tottering boat, and down below in those dark oozy depths, like prodigious fishes, he can just make out the shapes of hideous monsters: all the ills of life, diseases, sorrows, madness, poverty, blindness… . He gazes, and behold, one of these 3
Page 1: The Torrents Of Spring Turgenev, Iv
Page 5 and 6: I It was the summer of 1840. Sanin
Page 7 and 8: ‘But meanwhile Emil will die!’
Page 9 and 10: ‘He is saved, mother, he is alive
Page 11 and 12: Roselli pointed to his portrait, pa
Page 13 and 14: much ado and accompanying himself w
Page 15 and 16: illustrissimo maestro Rossini - in
Page 17 and 18: ‘The whole fare!’ Sanin said do
Page 19 and 20: VIII He had not finished dressing,
Page 21 and 22: IX Emil, who had continued to stand
Page 23 and 24: presence of the ladies of the house
Page 25 and 26: XI The bell tinkled at the outer do
Page 27 and 28: XII It appeared that Gemma was not
Page 29 and 30: carrying with him the image of the
Page 31 and 32: powerful whiff of the most refined
Page 33 and 34: mirthfulness of the company; he beg
Page 35 and 36: muttered something unintelligible,
Page 37 and 38: embarrassed by his presence - Gemma
Page 39 and 40: and all that’s left is that I am
Page 41 and 42: XVIII An hour later the waiter came
Page 43 and 44: single-triggered and not rifle-barr
Page 45 and 46: to leave off, and for the first tim
Page 47 and 48: XX It was bright starlight when he
Page 49 and 50: XXI It was quite morning when he fe
Page 51 and 52: ‘Your return,’ moaned Emil - an
Page 53 and 54:
The old man looked dejectedly at hi
Page 55 and 56:
arm with Baron Dönhof. And afterwa
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XXIII He slept for some hours witho
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you… .’ And Frau Lenore half ro
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‘Oh, come! I have not been expose
Page 63 and 64:
‘Very well,’ said Gemma. ‘If
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that I cannot give you any advice
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XXVI At eight o’clock next mornin
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morning, in one of the public garde
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to say, which could compare, in imp
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XXVIII Sanin walked along, at one t
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‘But, Gemma,’ cried Sanin, ‘d
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XXIX If Gemma had announced that sh
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XXX The transition from despair to
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‘Come, that’s nonsense, nonsens
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XXXI Sanin woke up very early. He f
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ordered with intense care a very la
Page 87 and 88:
‘There’s one means,’ Polozov
Page 89 and 90:
argaining with her. I shall tell he
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XXXIII It takes less than an hour i
Page 93 and 94:
flew up another man, also very well
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But Gemma’s image preserved Sanin
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XXXV The free and easy deportment o
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‘I should be satisfied with a few
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XXXVI Long after midnight the lamp
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avenues of the park, now mounting a
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XXXVII Sanin proceeded to expound h
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XXXVIII Oh, what a deep sigh of del
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much as her diamonds; she seemed in
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XXXIX In the year 1840, the theatre
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Maria Nikolaevna suddenly turned to
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‘Yes, Dimitri Pavlovitch,’ she
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XL The play lasted over an hour lon
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faith in its pressure. What sort of
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She seemed so happy that Sanin was
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XLII This track soon changed into a
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and plunged into a rather narrow go
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The same day, two hours later, Sani
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that smile he knows already, the sm
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probably know her husband’s addre
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We will not attempt to describe the
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continues today to seem as fresh an
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The Torrents Of Spring

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