The Dream of a Ridiculous Man, short story by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, published in Russian in as “Son smeshnogo cheloveka.” It addresses questions about. : The Dream Of A Ridiculous Man (): Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Books. The Dream of a Ridiculous Man. By Fyodor Dostoyevsky. What do we know about the psyche that Dostoyevsky failed to illuminate for us more than a century ago.
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Play until 30 December Drean summary [ edit ] The story opens with the narrator wandering the streets of St. All round me people were walking and shouting. He dies but he is still aware of his surroundings. What is a dream? I live apart from my landlord. I only read by day. They were not unhappy on my account when at times Dostoegsky kissed their feet with tears, joyfully conscious of the love with which they would respond to mine.
They wandered about their beautiful woods and groves, they sang their beautiful songs, they lived on simple food—the fruits of their trees, the honey from their woods, and the milk of the animals that loved them. But I gave up caring about anything, and all the problems disappeared. I have a sofa covered with American leather, a table with books fyodog it, two chairs and a comfortable arm-chair, as old as old can be, but of the good old-fashioned shape.
The Dream of a Ridiculous Man
They marvelled and were horrified, and began to be split up and divided. I seemed to be blinded, and benumbed, and I was lying on something hard, stretched on my back; I saw nothing, and could not make the slightest movement. This web edition published by: I suddenly regained my sight. I sit up all night in my arm-chair at the table, doing nothing.
The Dream of a Ridiculous Man / Fyodor Dostoyevsky
At first I fancied that many things had existed in the past, but afterwards Thw guessed that there never had been anything in the past either, but that it had only seemed so for some reason. Oh, judge for yourselves: Some of their songs were solemn and ecstatic, and I was scarcely able to understand them at all.
I was only waiting for the right moment. They looked forward to that moment with joy, but without haste, not pining for it, but seeming to have a foretaste of it in their hearts, of which they talked to one another. It seemed to me that I could not die now without having settled something first.
It was the same with life as it was with science. Let me tell you about my dream.
And suddenly ridicullous strangely familiar and incredibly nostalgic feeling shook me to the very core: And since then I have been preaching. Now they call me a madman. They began torturing animals, and the animals ran away from them into the forests and became their enemies.
Their sacred blood was spilt on the threshold of the od. I seemed clear to me that life and the world somehow depended upon me now. Rapture, infinite and boundless rapture intoxicated me.
Fifty-Two Stories » The Dream of a Ridiculous Man
I say nothing of its being likely that nothing will exist for anyone when I am gone, and that as soon as my consciousness is extinguished the whole world will vanish too and become void like a phantom, as a mere appurtenance of my consciousness, for possibly all this world and all these people are only me myself. They became acquainted with sorrow and loved sorrow; they thirsted for suffering, and said that truth could only be attained through suffering.
I love and can love only that earth which I have left, stained with my blood, when, in my ingratitude, I quenched my life with a bullet in my heart. And what about our life?
Then sorrow entered my soul with such force that my heart was wrung and I felt as though I were dying, and then—well, then I awoke. There arose religions with a cult of non-existence and self-destruction for the sake of the everlasting peace of annihilation.
At night I sit like that without even thinking about anything in particular: Views Read Edit View history. I was always so proud that I never wanted to confess it to anyone.
And is not our life a dream? They learned to lie, and they grew to appreciate the beauty of a lie. They did not suffer for me when, weeping, I ridiculouz kissed their feet, for in their hearts they were joyfully aware of the strong affection with which they would return my love.
They desired nothing and were at peace; they did not aspire to knowledge of life as we aspire to understand it, because their lives were full. Oh, they asked me no questions, but seemed to know everything already that was the impression I gotand they longed to remove every trace of suffering from my face as soon as possible.
Because of an idea that occurred to me at the time: I thirsted for martyrdom, I yearned for my blood to be shed to the last drop in torment and suffering. And not only in their songs alone, but fyodoor seemed to spend all their lives in perpetual praise of one another.
A chance encounter with a young girl, however, begins the man on a journey that re-instills a love for his fellow man. Do you believe that that was why I shouted that? The theatre monologue was performing by himself in Athens at “Morfes Ekfrasis” theatre.
Religions were founded to propagate the cult of non-existence and self-destruction for the sake of the everlasting peace in nothingness. It was then that I suddenly ceased to be angry with people and almost stopped noticing them.