Notes　from　the　Underground
  by　Feodor　Dostoevsky
  PART　I
  UNDERGROUND*
  *The　author　of　the　diary　and　the　diary　itself　are；　of　course；
  imaginary。　　Nevertheless　it　is　clear　that　such　persons　as　the
  writer　of　these　notes　not　only　may；　but　positively　must；　exist　in
  our　society；　when　we　consider　the　circumstances　in　the　midst　of
  which　our　society　is　formed。　　I　have　tried　to　expose　to　the　view
  of　the　public　more　distinctly　than　is　commonly　done；　one　of　the
  characters　of　the　recent　past。　　He　is　one　of　the　representatives
  of　a　generation　still　living。　　In　this　fragment；　entitled
  〃Underground；〃　this　person　introduces　himself　and　his　views；　and；
  as　it　were；　tries　to　explain　the　causes　owing　to　which　he　has
  made　his　appearance　and　was　bound　to　make　his　appearance　in　our
  midst。　　In　the　second　fragment　there　are　added　the　actual　notes
  of　this　person　concerning　certain　events　in　his　life。　AUTHOR'S
  NOTE。
  I
  I　am　a　sick　man。。。。　I　am　a　spiteful　man。　　I　am　an　unattractive
  man。　　I　believe　my　liver　is　diseased。　　However；　I　know　nothing　at
  all　about　my　disease；　and　do　not　know　for　certain　what　ails　me。
  I　don't　consult　a　doctor　for　it；　and　never　have；　though　I　have　a
  respect　for　medicine　and　doctors。　　Besides；　I　am　extremely
  superstitious；　sufficiently　so　to　respect　medicine；　anyway　（I　am
  well…educated　enough　not　to　be　superstitious；　but　I　am
  superstitious）。　　No；　I　refuse　to　consult　a　doctor　from　spite。
  That　you　probably　will　not　understand。　　Well；　I　understand　it；
  though。　　Of　course；　I　can't　explain　who　it　is　precisely　that　I　am
  mortifying　in　this　case　by　my　spite：　I　am　perfectly　well　aware
  that　I　cannot　〃pay　out〃　the　doctors　by　not　consulting　them；　I
  know　better　than　anyone　that　by　all　this　I　am　only　injuring
  myself　and　no　one　else。　　But　still；　if　I　don't　consult　a　doctor
  it　is　from　spite。　　My　liver　is　bad；　welllet　it　get　worse！
  I　have　been　going　on　like　that　for　a　long　timetwenty　years。
  Now　I　am　forty。　　I　used　to　be　in　the　government　service；　but　am
  no　longer。　　I　was　a　spiteful　official。　　I　was　rude　and　took
  pleasure　in　being　so。　　I　did　not　take　bribes；　you　see；　so　I　was
  bound　to　find　a　recompense　in　that；　at　least。　（A　poor　jest；　but　I
  will　not　scratch　it　out。　　I　wrote　it　thinking　it　would　sound　very
  witty；　but　now　that　I　have　seen　myself　that　I　only　wanted　to　show
  off　in　a　despicable　wayI　will　not　scratch　it　out　on　purpose！）
  When　petitioners　used　to　come　for　information　to　the　table　at
  which　I　sat；　I　used　to　grind　my　teeth　at　them；　and　felt　intense
  enjoyment　when　I　succeeded　in　making　anybody　unhappy。　　I　almost
  did　succeed。　　For　the　most　part　they　were　all　timid　peopleof
  course；　they　were　petitioners。　　But　of　the　uppish　ones　there　was
  one　officer　in　particular　I　could　not　endure。　　He　simply　would
  not　be　humble；　and　clanked　his　sword　in　a　disgusting　way。　　I
  carried　on　a　feud　with　him　for　eighteen　months　over　that　sword。
  At　last　I　got　the　better　of　him。　　He　left　off　clanking　it。　　That
  happened　in　my　youth；　though。　　But　do　you　know；　gentlemen；　what
  was　the　chief　point　about　my　spite？　　Why；　the　whole　point；　the
  real　sting　of　it　lay　in　the　fact　that　continually；　even　in　the
  moment　of　the　acutest　spleen；　I　was　inwardly　conscious　with　shame
  that　I　was　not　only　not　a　spiteful　but　not　even　an　embittered
  man；　that　I　was　simply　scaring　sparrows　at　random　and　amusing
  myself　by　it。　　I　might　foam　at　the　mouth；　but　bring　me　a　doll　to
  play　with；　give　me　a　cup　of　tea　with　sugar　in　it；　and　maybe　I
  should　be　appeased。　　I　might　even　be　genuinely　touched；　though
  probably　I　should　grind　my　teeth　at　myself　afterwards　and　lie
  awake　at　night　with　shame　for　months　after。　　That　was　my　way。
  I　was　lying　when　I　said　just　now　that　I　was　a　spiteful　official。
  I　was　lying　from　spite。　　I　was　simply　amusing　myself　with　the
  petitioners　and　with　the　officer；　and　in　reality　I　never　could
  become　spiteful。　　I　was　conscious　every　moment　in　myself　of　many；
  very　many　elements　absolutely　opposite　to　that。　　I　felt　them
  positively　swarming　in　me；　these　opposite　elements。　　I　knew　that
  they　had　been　swarming　in　me　all　my　life　and　craving　some　outlet
  from　me；　but　I　would　not　let　them；　would　not　let　them；　purposely
  would　not　let　them　come　out。　　They　tormented　me　till　I　was
  ashamed：　they　drove　me　to　convulsions　andsickened　me；　at　last；
  how　they　sickened　me！　　　Now；　are　not　you　fancying；　gentlemen；
  that　I　am　expressing　remorse　for　something　now；　that　I　am　asking
  your　forgiveness　for　something？　　I　am　sure　you　are　fancying　that
  。。。　However；　I　assure　you　I　do　not　care　if　you　are。。。。
  It　was　not　only　that　I　could　not　become　spiteful；　I　did　not　know
  how　to　become　anything；　neither　spiteful　nor　kind；　neither　a
  rascal　nor　an　honest　man；　neither　a　hero　nor　an　insect。　　Now；　I
  am　living　out　my　life　in　my　corner；　taunting　myself　with　the
  spiteful　and　useless　consolation　that　an　intelligent　man　cannot
  become　anything　seriously；　and　it　is　only　the　fool　who　becomes
  anything。　　Yes；　a　man　in　the　nineteenth　century　must　and　morally
  ought　to　be　pre…eminently　a　characterless　creature；　a　man　of
  character；　an　active　man　is　pre…eminently　a　limited　creature。
  That　is　my　conviction　of　forty　years。　　I　am　forty　years　old　now；
  and　you　know　forty　years　is　a　whole　lifetime；　you　know　it　is
  extreme　old　age。　　To　live　longer　than　forty　years　is　bad　manners；
  is　vulgar；　immoral。　　Who　does　live　beyond　forty？　　Answer　that；
  sincerely　and　honestly　I　will　tell　you　who　do：　fools　and
  worthless　fellows。　　I　tell　all　old　men　that　to　their　face；　all
  these　venerable　old　men；　all　these　silver…haired　and　reverend
  seniors！　　　I　tell　the　whole　world　that　to　its　face！　　　I　have　a
  right　to　say　so；　for　I　shall　go　on　living　to　sixty　myself。　　To
  seventy！　　　To　eighty！。。。　Stay；　let　me　take　breath　。。。
  You　imagine　no　doubt；　gentlemen；　that　I　want　to　amuse　you。　　You
  are　mistaken　in　that；　too。　　I　am　by　no　means　such　a　mirthful
  person　as　you　imagine；　or　as　you　may　imagine；　however；　irritated
  by　all　this　babble　（and　I　feel　that　you　are　irritated）　you　think
  fit　to　ask　me　who　I　amthen　my　answer　is；　I　am　a　collegiate
  assessor。　　I　was　in　the　service　that　I　might　have　something　to
  eat　（and　solely　for　that　reason）；　and　when　last　year　a　distant
  relation　left　me　six　thousand　roubles　in　his　will　I　immediately
  retired　from　the　service　and　settled　down　in　my　corner。　　I　used
  to　live　in　this　corner　before；　but　now　I　have　settled　down　in　it。
  My　room　is　a　wretched；　horrid　one　in　the　outskirts　of　the　town。
  My　servant　is　an　old　country…woman；　ill…natured　from　stupidity；
  and；　moreover；　there　is　always　a　nasty　smell　about　her。　　I　am
  told　that　the　Petersburg　climate　is　bad　for　me；　and　that　with　my
  small　means　it　is　very　expensive　to　live　in　Petersburg。　　I　know
  all　that　better　than　all　these　sage　and　experienced　counsellors
  and　monitors。。。。　But　I　am　remaining　in　Petersburg；　I　am　not　going
  away　from　Petersburg！　　　I　am　not　going　away　because　。。。　ech！
  Why；　it　is　absolutely　no　matter　whether　I　am　going　away　or　not
  going　away。
  But　what　can　a　decent　man　speak　of　with　most　pleasure？
  Answer：　Of　himself。
  Well；　so　I　will　talk　about　myself。
  II
  I　want　now　to　tell　you；　gentlemen；　whether　you　care　to　hear　it　or
  not；　why　I　could　not　even　become　an　insect。　　I　tell　you　solemnly；
  that　I　have　many　times　tried　to　become　an　insect。　　But　I　was　not
  equal　even　to　that。　　I　swear；　gentlemen；　that　to　be　too　conscious
  is　an　illnessa　real　thorough…going　illness。　　For　man's　everyday
  needs；　it　would　have　been　quite　enough　to　have　the　ordinary　human
  consciousness；　that　is；　half　or　a　quarter　of　the　amount　which
  falls　to　the　lot　of　a　cultivated　man　of　our　unhappy　nineteenth
  century；　especially　one　who　has　the　fatal　ill…luck　to　inhabit
  Petersburg；　the　most　theoretical　and　intentional　town　on　the
  whole　terrestrial　globe。　（There　are　intentional　and　unintentional
  towns。）　It　would　have　been　quite　enough；　for　instance；　to　have
  the　consciousness　by　which　all　so…called　direct　persons　and　men
  of　action　live。　　I　bet　you　think　I　am　writing　all　this　from
  affectation；　to　be　witty　at　the　expense　of　men　of　action；　and
  what　is　more；　that　from　ill…bred　affectation；　I　am　clanking　a
  sword　like　my　officer。　　But；　gentlemen；　whoever　can　pride　himself
  on　his　diseases　and　even　swagger　over　them？
  Though；　after　all；　everyone　does　do　that；　people　do　pride
  themselves　on　their　diseases；　and　I　do；　may　be；　more　than　anyone。
  We　will　not　dispute　it；　my　contention　was　absurd。　　But　yet　I　am
  firmly　persuaded　that　a　great　deal　of　consciousness；　every　sort
  of　consciousness；　in　fact；　is　a　disease。　　I　stick　to　that。　　Let
  us　leave　that；　too；　for　a　minute。　　Tell　me　this：　why　does　it
  happen　that　at　the　very；　yes；　at　the　very　moments　when　I　am　most
  capable　of　feeling　every　refinement　of　all　that　is　〃sublime　and
  beautiful；〃　as　they　used　to　say　at　one　time；　it　would；　as　though
  of　design；　happen　to　me　not　only　to　feel　but　to　do　such　ugly