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¡¡ |
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II |
II |
| ¡¡ |
¡¡ |
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Some day I will narrate the touching and
instructive history of my life during those ten years of my youth. I think
very many people have had a like experience. With all my soul I wished to
be good, but I was young, passionate and alone, completely alone when I
sought goodness. Every time I tried to express my most sincere desire,
which was to be morally good, I met with contempt and ridicule, but as
soon as I yielded to low passions I was praised and encouraged. |
¾ðÁ¨°¡ ³ª´Â ³ªÀÇ Ã»³â±âÀÇ ½Ê³â µ¿¾ÈÀÇ °¨µ¿ÀûÀ̸ç
±³ÈÆÀûÀÎ ³ªÀÇ ÀλýÀÇ À̾߱âµéÀ» ¼¼úÇÒ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ³ª´Â
¸Å¿ì ¸¹Àº »ç¶÷µéÀÌ À¯»çÇÑ °æÇèÀ» °¡Á® º¸¾Ò´Ù°í
»ý°¢ÇÑ´Ù. ³ª´Â Ãæ½ÉÀ¸·Î ¼±ÇϰíÀÚ ÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×·¯³ª ³ª´Â
Àþ°í, Á¤¿ÀûÀÌ¸ç ±×¸®°í È¥ÀÚ¿´À¸¸ç, ³»°¡ ¼±À» ãÀ»
¶§ ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ È¥ÀÚ¿´´Ù. ³»°¡ ³ªÀÇ °¡Àå ÁøÁöÇÑ ¿å±¸¸¦
Ç¥ÇöÇϰíÀÚ ½ÃµµÇÒ ¶§¸¶´Ù, ±×°ÍÀ» µµ´öÀûÀ¸·Î
¼±ÇÏ¿©¾ß Çߴµ¥, ³ª´Â °æ¸ê°ú ºñ¿ôÀ½À» ¹Þ¾ÒÀ¸¸ç,
±×·¯³ª ³»°¡ Àú¼ÓÇÑ °¨Á¤¿¡ ±¼º¹ÇÏÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ ³ª´Â Âù»ç¸¦
¹Þ¾ÒÀ¸¸ç °Ý·Á¸¦ ¹Þ¾Ò´Ù. |
|
Ambition, love of power, covetousness,
lasciviousness, pride, anger, and revenge-were all respected. |
¾ß¸Á, ±Ç·ÂÀÇ »ç¶û, Ž¿å, È£»ö, ±³¸¸, ºÐ³ë, ±×¸®°í
º¹¼ö-¸ðµÎ°¡ Á¸°æ ¹Þ¾Ò´Ù. |
|
Yielding to those passions I became like
the grown-up folk and felt that they approved of me. The kind aunt with
whom I lived, herself the purest of beings, always told me that there was
nothing she so desired for me as that I should have relations with a
married woman: 'Rien ne forme un juene homme, comme une liaison avec
une femme comme il faut'.* Another happiness she desired for me was
that I should become an aide-de-camp, and if possible aide-de-camp to the
Emperor. But the greatest happiness of all would be that I should marry a
very rich girl and so become possessed of as many serfs as possible. |
±×·± °¨Á¤¿¡ ³»¸Ã±â¸é¼ ³ª´Â ¸¶Ä¡ ¼ºÀÎÀÌ µÈ »ç¶÷
°°¾ÆÁ³À¸¸ç ±×µéÀÌ ³ª¸¦ ÀÎÁ¤ÇØ ÁÖ´Â °ÍÀ» ´À²¼´Ù. ³ª¿Í
ÇÔ²² »ì´ø ¾ÆÁÖ¸Ó´Ï´Â, ±×³à ÀÚ½ÅÀº Á¸Àçµé Áß¿¡¼ °¡Àå
¼ø¼öÇÏ¿´´Âµ¥, ¾ðÁ¦³ª ³ª¿¡°Ô ¸»Çϱ⸦, ³»°¡ °áÈ¥ÇÑ
¿©ÀÚµé°ú °ü°è¸¦ °¡Áö´Â °Í¸¸Å ¹Ù¶ó´Â °ÍÀº ¾ø´Ù°í
¸»Çß´Ù: ¡®Rien ne forme un juene
homme, comme une liaison avec une femme comme il faut'.
±×³à°¡ ³ª¿¡ ´ëÇÏ¿© ¹Ù¶ó´Â ´Ù¸¥ ÇູÀº ³»°¡ ¹«°üÀÌ
µÇ¾î¾ß Çϸç, ±×¸®°í °¡´ÉÇÏ´Ù¸é ȲÁ¦ÀÇ Àü¼Ó ¹«°üÀÌ
µÇ´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. ±×·¯³ª °¡Àå Å« ÇູÀº ³»°¡ ¸Å¿ì
ºÎÀÚÀÎ ¿©ÀÚ¿Í °áÈ¥ÇÏ¿© °¡´ÉÇÑ ¸¹Àº ³ó³ë¸¦ ¼ÒÀ¯ÇÏ´Â
°ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. |
| ¡¡ |
¡¡ |
|
I cannot think of those years without
horror, loathing and heartache. I killed men in war and challenged men to
duels in order to kill them. I lost at cards, consumed the labor of the
peasants, sentenced them to punishments, lived loosely, and deceived
people. Lying, robbery, adultery of all kinds, drunkenness, violence,
murder -- there was no crime I did not commit, and in spite of that people
praised my conduct and my contemporaries considered and consider me to be
a comparatively moral man. |
³ª´Â ÀüÀ², ¿ª°Ü¿ò ±×¸®°í ¸¶À½ÀÇ °íÅëÀÌ ¾øÀÌ´Â ±×·±
½ÃÀýÀ» »ý°¢ÇÒ ¼ö°¡ ¾ø´Ù. ³ª´Â ÀüÀï¿¡¼ »ç¶÷µéÀ»
Á׿´´Ù ±×¸®°í »ç¶÷µéÀ» Á×À̱â À§Çؼ °áÅõ¸¦
½ÅûÇϱ⵵ Çß´Ù. ³ª´Â Ä«µå°ÔÀÓ¿¡¼ ÀÒ¾ú°í, ³óºÎµéÀÇ
³ëµ¿À» ¼Ò¸ð ½ÃÄ×À¸¸ç, ±×µéÀ» ó¹úÇÏ¿´°í, ¹æÁ¾ÇϰÔ
»ì¾ÒÀ¸¸ç, ±×¸®°í »ç¶÷µéÀ» ¼Ó¿´´Ù. °ÅÁþ¸», °µµÁú,
¸ðµç Á¾·ùÀÇ °£À½, ¼ú ÃëÇÔ, Æø·Â, »ìÀÎ-³»°¡ ÀúÁö¸£Áö
¾ÊÀº ÁË´Â ¾ø¾ú´Ù, ±×¸®°í ±×·¯ÇÔ¿¡µµ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ³ªÀÇ
ÇàÀ§¸¦ ĪÂùÇÏ¿´´Ù ±×¸®°í ³ªÀÇ µ¿³â¹èÀÇ »ç¶÷µéÀº
³ª¸¦ ºñ±³Àû µµ´öÀûÀÎ »ç¶÷À¸·Î ¿©°åÀ¸¸ç ¿©±â°í ÀÖ´Ù. |
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So I lived for ten years. |
±×·¸°Ô ³ª´Â ½Ê ³âÀ» »ì¾Ò´Ù. |
|
During that time I began to write from
vanity, covetousness, and pride. In my writings I did the same as in my
life to get fame and money, for the sake of which I wrote, it was
necessary to hide the good and to display the evil. and I did so. How
often in my writings I contrived to hide under the guise of indifference,
or even of banter, those strivings of mine towards goodness which gave
meaning to my life! And I succeeded in this and was praised. |
±× ½ÃÀý µ¿¾È ³ª´Â Ç㿵, Ž¿å, ±×¸®°í ±³¸¸À¸·Î ±ÛÀ»
¾²±â ½ÃÀÛÇß´Ù. ³ªÀÇ ÀÛǰ¿¡¼ ¸í¼º°ú µ·À» ¾ò±â À§Çؼ
³ªÀÇ Àλý¿¡¼Ã³·³ °°Àº ÀÏÀ» ÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×¸®°í ±×·¯ÇÑ
°ÍÀ» À§ÇØ ±ÛÀ» ½èÀ¸¸ç, ¼±À» ¼û±â°í ¾ÇÀ» º¸¿©ÁÖ´Â
°ÍÀÌ ÇÊ¿äÇÏ¿´À¸¸ç ±×·¸°Ô ÇÏ¿´´Ù. ³ªÀÇ ÀÛǰ¿¡¼ ³ª´Â
¾ó¸¶³ª ÀÚÁÖ ¹«°ü½É ¶Ç´Â ³ó´ãÀ» °¡ÀåÇÏ¿©, ³ª¿¡°Ô »îÀÇ
Àǹ̸¦ ÁÖ´Â ¼±À» ÇâÇÑ ³ªÀÇ ³ë·ÂÀ» ¼û±â·Á°í
±âµµÇÏ¿´´ø°¡! ±×¸®°í ³ª´Â À̰Ϳ¡ ¼º°øÇÏ¿´°í μÛÀ»
¹Þ¾Ò´Ù. |
|
At twenty-six years of age* I returned to
Petersburg after the war, and met the writers. They received me as one of
themselves and flattered me. And before I had time to look round I had
adopted the views on life of the set of authors I had come among, and
these views completely obliterated all my former strivings to improve-they
furnished a theory which justified the dissoluteness of my life. |
½º¹° ¿©¼¸ »ì¿¡ ³ª´Â ÀüÀï µÚ¿¡ ÆäÅ×½ººÎ¸£Å©·Î
µ¹¾Æ°¬À¸¸ç ÀÛ°¡µéÀ» ¸¸³µ´Ù. ±×µéÀº ³ª¸¦ ±×µéÀÇ
Çϳª·Î ¹Þ¾Æ µé¿´À¸¸ç ³ª¸¦ Ä¡ÄѼ¼¿ü´Ù. ³ª´Â ÁÖÀ§¸¦
µ¹¾Æ´Ù º¼ Æ´µµ ¾øÀÌ ³ª¿Í ÇÔ²²ÇÏ´Â ÀÏ´ÜÀÇ ÀÛ°¡µéÀÇ
»î¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ½Ã°¢À» äÅÃÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×¸®°í ÀÌµé ½Ã°¢Àº ¿¾³¯
³»°¡ °³¼±ÇϰíÀÚ ÇÏ´ø ¸ðµç ³ë·ÂµéÀ» ¿ÏÀüÈ÷
Áö¿ö¹ö·È´Ù-±×µéÀº ³ªÀÇ ÀλýÀÇ ¹æÁ¾ÇÔÀ» Á¤´çÈÇÏ´Â
ÀÌ·ÐÀ» °ø±ÞÇÏ¿´´Ù. |
|
The view of life of these people, my
comrades in authorship, consisted in this: that life in general goes on
developing, and in this development we-men of thought-have the chief part;
and among men of thought it is we-artists and poets-who have the greatest
influence. Our vocation is to teach mankind. And lest the simple question
should suggest itself: What do I know, and what can I teach? it was
explained in this theory that this need not be known, and that the artist
and poet teach unconsciously. I was considered an admirable artist and
poet, and therefore it was very natural for me to adopt this theory. I,
artist and poet, wrote and taught without myself knowing what. For this I
was paid money; I had excellent food, lodging, women, and society; and I
had fame, which showed that what I taught was very good. |
ÀúÀÛ¾÷¿¡¼ ³ªÀÇ µ¿·áµéÀÎ, ÀÌ·± »ç¶÷µéÀÇ »î¿¡ ´ëÇÑ
½Ã°¢Àº ÀÌ·± °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù: ÀϹÝÀûÀ¸·Î ÀλýÀº ¹ßÀüÇØ
³ª°£´Ù, ±×¸®°í ÀÌ ¹ßÀü¿¡¼ ¿ì¸®-»ç°íÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µé-°¡
ÁÖµÈ ºÎºÐÀ» Â÷ÁöÇÑ´Ù; ±×¸®°í »ç°íÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µé Áß¿¡¼
°¡Àå Å« ¿µÇâ·ÂÀ» °¡Áø »ç¶÷µéÀº ¹Ù·Î ¿ì¸®µé-¿¹¼ú°¡µé°ú
½ÃÀεéÀÌ´Ù. ¿ì¸®ÀÇ Á÷¾÷Àº Àηù¸¦ °¡¸£Ä¡´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù.
±×¸®°í ´Ü¼øÇÑ Àǹ®-³ª´Â ¹«¾ùÀ» ¾Æ´Â°¡, ±×¸®°í ³ª´Â
¹«¾ùÀ» °¡¸£Ä¥ ¼ö Àִ°¡?-ÀÌ Á¦±âµÇÁö ¾Êµµ·Ï, ¡®À̰ÍÀº
¾Ë Çʿ䰡 ¾ø´Ù, ±×¸®°í ¿¹¼ú°¡¿Í ½ÃÀÎÀº ¹«ÀÇ½Ä Áß¿¡
°¡¸£Ä£´Ù¡¯°í ÀÌ À̷п¡¼ ¼³¸íµÇ¾ú´Ù. ³ª´Â ĪÂù ¹Þ´Â
¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÌÀÚ ½ÃÀÎÀ̾úÀ¸¸ç, ±×¸®¹Ç·Î ³»°¡ ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ
ÀÌ·ÐÀ» äÅÃÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ¸Å¿ì ´ç¿¬ÇÏ¿´´Ù. ¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÌÀÚ
½ÃÀÎÀÎ ³ª´Â ³ª Àڽŵµ ¹«¾ùÀÎÁö ¸ð¸£¸é¼ ÁýÇÊÇϰí
°¡¸£ÃÆ´Ù. ÀÌ ÀÏ·Î ÇØ¼ ³ª´Â µ·Àº ¹Þ¾ÒÀ¸¹Ç·Î, ³ª´Â
¶Ù¾î³ À½½Ä, ¼÷¼Ò, ¿©ÀÚµé, ±×¸®°í »çȸ¸¦ °¡Á³´Ù,
±×¸®°í ³ª´Â ¸í¼ºÀ» °¡Á³À¸¸ç, ±×°ÍÀº ³»°¡ °¡¸£Ä£ °ÍÀÌ
¸Å¿ì ÁÁ´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ³ªÅ¸³Â´Ù. |
|
This faith in the meaning of poetry and in
the development of life was a religion, and I was one of its priests. To
be its priest was very pleasant and profitable. And I lived a considerable
time in this faith without doubting its validity. But in the second and
still more in the third year of this life I began to doubt the
infallibility of this religion and to examine it. My first cause of doubt
was that I began to notice that the priests of this religion were not all
in accord among themselves. Some said: We are the best and most useful
teachers; we teach what is needed, but the others teach wrongly. Others
said: No! we are the real teachers, and you teach wrongly. And they
disputed, quarrelled, abused, cheated, and tricked one another. There were
also many among us who did not care who was right and who was wrong, but
were simply bent on attaining their covetous aims by means of this
activity of ours. All this obliged me to doubt the validity of our creed. |
½ÃÀÇ ÀÇ¹Ì¿Í ÀλýÀÇ ¹ßÀü¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ÀÌ·± ¹ÏÀ½Àº
Á¾±³¿´´Ù, ±×¸®°í ³ª´Â ±×°ÍÀ» À§ÇÑ »çÁ¦µé ÁßÀÇ
Çϳª¿´´Ù. ±×°ÍÀÇ »çÁ¦°¡ µÊÀº ¸Å¿ì À¯ÄèÇÏ¸ç µ·ÀÌ
µÇ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í ³ª´Â »ó´çÇÑ ½Ã°£À» ±× Á¤´çÇÔÀ»
ÀǽÉÇÏÁöµµ ¾Ê°í ÀÌ·± ½Å¾ÓÀ¸·Î »ì¾Ò´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ
»ýȰÀÇ µÎ ¹øÂ° ÇØ¿¡, ±×¸®°í ¼¼ ¹øÂ° ÇØ¿¡ ´õ¿í ´õ,
³ª´Â ÀÌ Á¾±³ÀÇ ¹«°á¼º¿¡ ´ëÇØ ÀǽÉÇÏ¸ç ±×°ÍÀ»
Á¶»çÇϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇÏ¿´´Ù. ³ªÀÇ Àǽɿ¡ ´ëÇÑ Ã¹¹øÂ° ¿øÀÎÀº
ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ Á¾±³ÀÇ »çÁ¦µéÀÌ ÀÚ½Åµé »çÀÌ¿¡¼µµ ÀÏÄ¡ÇÏÁö
¾ÊÀ½À» ¾Ë¾ÆÂ÷¸®±â ½ÃÀÛÇßÀ½ÀÌ´Ù. ¾î¶² »ç¶÷µéÀÌ
¸»Çß´Ù: ¿ì¸®´Â °¡Àå ÈǸ¢ÇÏ¸ç °¡Àå À¯ÀÍÇÑ ±³»çµéÀÌ´Ù;
¿ì¸®´Â ÇÊ¿äÇÑ °ÍÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡¸ç ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µéÀº ¾ûÅ͸®·Î
°¡¸£Ä£´Ù. ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¸»Çß´Ù: ¾Æ´Ï´Ù! ¿ì¸®°¡
ÁøÁ¤ÇÑ ±³»çµéÀÌ´Ù, ±×¸®°í ´ç½ÅµéÀÌ ¾ûÅ͸®·Î
°¡¸£Ä£´Ù. ±×¸®°í ±×µéÀº ¼·Î¿¡°Ô ³íÀïÇϰí, ½Î¿ì°í,
¿åÇϰí, »ç±âÄ¡°í ±×¸®°í ±â¸¸ÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¶ÇÇÑ
¿ì¸®µé Áß¿¡´Â ´©°¡ ¿Ç°í ´©°¡ ±×¸¥Áö °ü½ÉÀÌ ¾ø´Â
´ë½Å¿¡, ¿ì¸®µéÀÇ ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ È°µ¿À» ¼ö´ÜÀ¸·Î ¿ÀÁ÷ ±×µéÀÇ
Ž¿å½º·¯¿î ¸ñÀûÀ» ´Þ¼ºÇϴµ¥ ¿ÁßÀÎ »ç¶÷µéµµ ¸¹¾Ò´Ù.
ÀÌ ¸ðµç °ÍµéÀÌ ³ª·Î ÇÏ¿©±Ý ¿ì¸® ±³¸®ÀÇ Á¤´ç¼ºÀ»
ÀǽÉÇϵµ·Ï ¸¸µé¾ú´Ù. |
|
Moreover, having begun to doubt the truth
of the authors' creed itself, I also began to observe its priests more
attentively, and I became convinced that almost all the priests of that
religion, the writers, were immoral, and for the most part men of bad,
worthless character, much inferior to those whom I had met in my former
dissipated and military life; but they were self-confident and
self-satisfied as only those can be who are quite holy or who do not know
what holiness is. These people revolted me, I became revolting to myself,
and I realized that that faith was a fraud. |
°Ô´Ù°¡, ÀÛ°¡µéÀÇ ±³¸® ÀÚüÀÇ Áø½Ç¼ºÀ» ÀǽÉÇϱâ
½ÃÀÛÇϸé¼, ³ª´Â ¶ÇÇÑ ±× »çÁ¦µéÀ» Á»´õ ÁÖÀÇ ±í°Ô
°üÂûÇϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×¸®°í ³ª´Â ±×·± Á¾±³ÀÇ °ÅÀÇ
¸ðµç »çÁ¦µé, Áï ÀÛ°¡µéÀÌ, ºñµµ´öÀûÀ̸ç, ±×¸®°í
´ëºÎºÐÀÌ, ¾ÇÇϸç, °¡Ä¡ ¾ø´Â ÀΰÝÀÇ ¼ÒÀ¯ÀÚµéÀ̸ç,
³ªÀÇ ÀÌÀüÀÇ ¹æÅÁÇÏ´ø ±º´ë Àλý¿¡¼ ¸¸³µ´ø »ç¶÷µé
º¸´Ùµµ ´õ¿í ¿µîÇÏ´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ±ú´Ý°Ô µÇ¾ú´Ù; ±×·¯³ª
¾ÆÁÖ ¼º½º·´°Å³ª ¾Æ´Ï¸é ¼º½º·¯¿òÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀÎÁö ¸ð¸£´Â
»ç¶÷µéÀÏ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â °Íó·³ ±×µéÀº ÀÚ±âÈ®½Å°ú ÀÚ¸¸¿¡
Â÷ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ÀÌ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ³ª¿¡°Ô Çø¿À°¨À» ÁÖ¾ú°í, ³ª´Â
ÀÚ½ÅÀ» Çø¿ÀÇϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇÏ¿´À¸¸ç, ±×¸®°í ³ª´Â ±×·±
½Å¾ÓÀÌ »ç±â¶ó´Â °ÍÀ» ±ú´Þ¾Ò´Ù. |
|
But strange to say, though I understood
this fraud and renounced it, yet I did not renounce the rank these people
gave me: the rank of artist, poet, and teacher. I naively imagined that I
was a poet and artist and could teach everybody without myself knowing
what I was teaching, and I acted accordingly. |
±×·¯³ª ¸»ÇϱⰡ ÀÌ»óÇÏÁö¸¸, ºñ·Ï ³»°¡ ÀÌ »ç±â¸¦
±ú´Ý°í Æ÷±âÇÏ¿´Áö¸¸, ±×·¯³ª ³ª´Â ÀÌ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ³ª¿¡°Ô
ÁØ ÁöÀ§-¿¹¼ú°¡, ½ÃÀÎ, ±×¸®°í ±³»ç·Î¼ÀÇ ÁöÀ§-¸¦
Æ÷±âÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù. ³ª´Â ¼øÁøÇϰԵµ ³ª´Â ½ÃÀÎÀ̸ç
¿¹¼ú°¡¸ç ±×¸®°í ³»°¡ ¹«¾ùÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡°í ÀÖ´ÂÁö ³ª
Àڽŵµ ¸ð¸£¸é¼ ¸ðµç »ç¶÷À» °¡¸£Ä¥ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù°í
»ó»óÇÏ¿´À¸¸ç, ³ª´Â ±×·¸°Ô ÇൿÇÏ¿´´Ù. |
|
From my intimacy with these men I acquired
a new vice: abnormally developed pride and an insane assurance that it was
my vocation to teach men, without knowing what. |
ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ »ç¶÷µé°ú ³ªÀÇ Ä£ºÐÀ¸·Î ÇØ¼ ³ª´Â »õ·Î¿î
¾ÇÀ» ¾ò¾ú´Ù: ¹«¾ùÀÎÁöµµ ¸ð¸£¸é¼ »ç¶÷µéÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡´Â
°ÍÀÌ ³ªÀÇ Á÷¾÷À̶ó´Â ºñÁ¤»óÀûÀ¸·Î ¹ßÀüµÈ ÀÚ¸¸½É°ú
Á¦Á¤½ÅÀÌ ¾Æ´Ñ È®½ÅÀÌ ±×°ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
|
To remember that time, and my own state of
mind and that of those men (though there are thousands like them today),
is sad and terrible and ludicrous, and arouses exactly the feeling one
experiences in a lunatic asylum. |
±× ½ÃÀý, ±×¸®°í ³ª ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ Á¤½Å »óÅÂ¿Í ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µé(ºñ·Ï
¿À´Ã³¯¿¡µµ ±×¿Í °°Àº »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¼öõÀ̳ª µÇÁö¸¸)ÀÇ
»óŸ¦ ȸ»óÇÏÀÚ¸é, ½½ÇÁ°í ¹«¼¿ì¸ç ¿ì½º²Î½º·´´Ù,
±×¸®°í Á¤È®È÷ Á¤½Å º´¿ø¿¡¼³ª °æÇèÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â ±×·±
´À³¦À» ºÒ·¯ ÀÏÀ¸Å²´Ù. |
|
We were all then convinced that it was
necessary for us to speak, write, and print as quickly as possible and as
much as possible, and that it was all wanted for the good of humanity. And
thousands of us, contradicting and abusing one another, all printed and
wrote-teaching others. And without noticing that we knew nothing, and that
to the simplest of life's questions: What is good and what is evil? we
did not know how to reply, we all talked at the same time, not listening
to one another, sometimes seconding and praising one another in order to
be seconded and praised in turn, sometimes getting angry with one
another-just as in a lunatic asylum. |
¿ì¸®´Â ±×¶§ ¸ðµÎ°¡ ¿¬¼³Çϸç, ±ÛÀ» ¾²°í, ±×¸®°í
°¡´ÉÇÑ »¡¸® ±×¸®°í °¡´ÉÇÑ ¸¹ÀÌ ÃâÆÇÇÏ´Â °ÍÀÌ
ÇÊ¿äÇϸç, ±×¸®°í ±×°ÍÀº ¸ðµÎ ÀηùÀÇ º¹Áö¸¦ À§ÇÏ¿©
ÇÊ¿äÇÑ °ÍÀÓÀ» È®½ÅÇϰí ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¿ì¸® ÁßÀÇ
¼öõÀº, ¼·Î¸¦ ¹Ý´ëÇÏ°í ¿åÀ» Çϸé¼, ¸ðµÎ°¡ ÃâÆÇÇϰí
±ÛÀ» ½è´Ù-´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µéÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡¸é¼. ±×¸®°í ¿ì¸®°¡
¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¸ð¸¥´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë¾ÆÂ÷¸®Áö ¸øÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×¸®°í
ÀλýÀÇ °¡Àå ´Ü¼øÇÑ Áú¹®¿¡ ´ëÇØ¼: ¹«¾ùÀÌ ¼±À̰í
¹«¾ùÀÌ ¾ÇÀΰ¡? ¿ì¸®´Â ¾î¶»°Ô ´ë´äÀ» ÇØ¾ß ÇÒÁö ¸ô¶ú´Ù,
¿ì¸®´Â ¸ðµÎ µ¿½Ã¿¡ ¸»ÇßÀ¸¸ç, ¼·Î¿¡°Ô ±Í¸¦ ±â¿ïÀÌÁö
¾Ê¾Ò´Ù, ¶§·Î´Â ³ªÁß¿¡ ÁöÁö ¹Þ°í ĪÂù ¹Þ±â À§ÇÏ¿©
¼·Î¸¦ ÁöÁöÇϰí ĪÂùÇϸç, ´ë·Î´Â ¼·Î¿¡°Ô ȸ¦
³»¾ú´Ù-¸¶Ä¡ Á¤½Åº´¿ø¿¡¼Ã³·³ |
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Thousands of workmen laboured to the
extreme limit of their strength day and night, setting the type and
printing millions of words which the post carried all over Russia, and we
still went on teaching and could in no way find time to teach enough, and
were always angry that sufficient attention was not paid us. |
¼öõ¸íÀÇ Á÷°øµéÀÌ ¹ã³·À¸·Î ÈûÀÌ ´Ù ºüÁöµµ·Ï
³ëµ¿ÇÏ¿´´Ù, ȰÀÚ¸¦ ¸ÂÃß°í ¼ö¹é¸¸ÀÇ ´Ü¾îµéÀ»
ÀμâÇÏ¿© ¿ìüºÎ°¡ ·¯½Ã¾Æ Àü¿ªÀ¸·Î °¡Áö°í °¥ °ÍÀÌ´Ù
±×¸®°í ¿ì¸®´Â ¿©ÀüÈ÷ °¡¸£Ä¡±â¸¦ °è¼ÓÇϰí, ¾Æ¹«¸®
ÇØµµ °¡¸£Ä¥ ÃæºÐÇÑ ½Ã°£À» ãÁö ¸øÇϰí, ±×¸®°í ¾ðÁ¦³ª
¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô ÃæºÐÇÑ °ü½ÉÀÌ ÁÖ¾îÁöÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù°í ȸ¦
³»¾ú´Ù. |
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It was terribly strange, but is now quite
comprehensible. Our real innermost concern was to get as much money and
praise as possible. To gain that end we could do nothing except write
books and papers. So we did that. But in order to do such useless work and
to feel assured that we were very important people we required a theory
justifying our activity. And so among us this theory was devised: "All
that exists is reasonable. All that exists develops. And it all develops
by means of Culture. And Culture is measured by the circulation of books
and newspapers. And we are paid money and are respected because we write
books and newspapers, and therefore we are the most useful and the best of
men." This theory would have been all very well if we had been
unanimous, but as every thought expressed by one of us was always met by a
diametrically opposite thought expressed by another, we ought to have been
driven to reflection. But we ignored this; people paid us money and those
on our side praised us, so each of us considered himself justified. |
±×°ÍÀº ¹«¼·°Ôµµ ÀÌ»óÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×·¯³ª ÀÌÁ¦´Â »ó´çÈ÷
ÀÌÇØ°¡ µÉ ¹ýÇÏ´Ù. ¿ì¸®ÀÇ ÁøÁ¤ÇÑ ³»¸éÀÇ °ü½ÉÀº °¡´ÉÇÑ
¸¹Àº µ·°ú ĪÂùÀ» ¾ò´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯ÇÑ ¸ñÇ¥¸¦
´Þ¼ºÇÏ·Á¸é ¿ì¸®´Â Ã¥°ú ½Å¹®À» ¾²´Â °Í ¸»°í´Â
¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ÇÒ ¼ö°¡ ¾ø´Ù. ±×·¡¼ ¿ì¸®´Â ±×·¸°Ô ÇÏ¿´´Ù.
±×·¯³ª ±×·¯ÇÑ ¾µ¸ð¾ø´Â ÀÏÀ» ÇÏ°í ¿ì¸®°¡ ¸Å¿ì Áß¿äÇÑ
»ç¶÷µéÀ̶ó°í ÀڽŠÀÖ°Ô ´À³¢·Á¸é ¿ì¸®ÀÇ ÇàÀ§¸¦
Á¤´çÈ ½ÃÄÑÁÖ´Â ÀÌ·ÐÀÌ ÇÊ¿äÇß´Ù. ±×¸®°í ±×·¡¼
¿ì¸®µé »çÀÌ¿¡ ÀÌ ÀÌ·ÐÀÌ °í¾ÈµÈ °ÍÀÌ´Ù: ¡°Á¸ÀçÇÏ´Â
¸ðµç °ÍÀº À̼ºÀûÀÌ´Ù. Á¸ÀçÇÏ´Â ¸ðµç °ÍÀº ¹ßÀüÇÑ´Ù.
±×¸®°í ±× ¸ðµç °ÍÀº ¹®È ¶§¹®¿¡ ¹ßÀüÇÑ´Ù. ±×¸®°í
¹®È´Â Ã¥°ú ½Å¹®ÀÇ À¯Æ÷·Î¼ ÃøÁ¤µÈ´Ù. ±×·¡¼ ¿ì¸®´Â
µ·À» ¹ÞÀ¸¸ç Á¸°æ ¹Þ´Â´Ù ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ¿ì¸®´Â Ã¥°ú ½Å¹®À»
¾²°í, ±×¸®°í ±×·¯¹Ç·Î ¿ì¸®´Â »ç¶÷µé Áß¿¡¼ °¡Àå
À¯¿ëÇϰí ÈǸ¢ÇÏ´Ù.¡± ÀÌ ÀÌ·ÐÀº ¿ì¸®°¡ ¸¸Àå
ÀÏÄ¡¿´´Ù¸é ¸ðµç °ÍÀÌ Àß µÇ¾úÀ» °ÍÀÌ ±×·¯³ª ¿ì¸®µé
ÁßÀÇ Çϳª°¡ Ç¥ÇöÇÏ´Â ¸ðµç »ç»óÀº ¾ðÁ¦³ª ´Ù¸¥
»ç¶÷¿¡¼ Ç¥ÇöµÇ´Â ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ Á¤¹Ý´ëÀÇ »ç»óÀ» ¸¸³µÀ¸¹Ç·Î,
¿ì¸®´Â ½É»ç¼÷°í·Î ¸ô·Á¾ß¸¸ Çß¾ú´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¿ì¸®´Â
À̰ÍÀ» ¹«½ÃÇß´Ù, »ç¶÷µéÀº ¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô µ·À» ÁöºÒÇßÀ¸¸ç
¿ì¸®ÃøÀÇ »ç¶÷µéÀº ¿ì¸®¸¦ ĪÂùÇß´Ù, ±×·¡¼ ¿ì¸®µé
°¢ÀÚ´Â ½º½º·Î¸¦ Á¤´çÇÏ´Ù°í ¿©°å´Ù. |
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It is now clear to me that this was just
as in a lunatic asylum; but then I only dimly suspected this, and like all
lunatics, simply called all men lunatics except myself. |
À̰ÍÀº ¸¶Ä¡ Á¤½Å º´¿ø¿¡ ÀÖ´Â °Í°ú ¶È°°À½ÀÌ ÀÌÁ¦
³ª¿¡°Ô ºÐ¸íÇØÁ³´Ù; ±×·¯³ª ±×¶§ ³ª´Â ´ÜÁö À̰ÍÀ»
Èñ¹ÌÇÏ°Ô ÀǽÉÇÏ¿´´Ù, ±×¸®°í ¸ðµç Á¤½Åº´ÀÚµéó·³,
´Ü¼øÈ÷ ¸ðµç »ç¶÷µéÀ» ³ª ÀÚ½ÅÀ» Á¦¿ÜÇϰí´Â
Á¤½Åº´ÀÚ¶ó°í ºÒ·¶´Ù. |
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