448
BORIS PILNYAK
greater joy than ... I am young and strong!"
Akim found it hard to collect
his
thoughts. Before
him
on
the floor lay patch-work rugs, proclaiming the poverty of life
in
a small provincial town. Klavdia was strong and beautiful and
very self-possessed.
It
was drizzling outside.
As
a communist
Akim liked to think that a new way of life was in the making,
but the old way was so hallowed by time. Klavdia's view of
morality was both new and extraordinary for him, but if that
was how she saw things, perhaps she was right. Who knows?
"Have your child then," he said.
Klavdia nestled against him, put her head on his shoulder,
tucked up her feet, becoming limp and cosy.
"The body is everything for me," she said. "I love eating, I
love bathing, I love physical exercise. I love it when our dog
Sharik licks my hands and feet. I get pleasure from scratching
my knees till the blood comes.... And the life all around us
is
so vast. I can't make head or tail of it, and I can't make any
sense of the Revolution either, but I don't mind. I
believe
in life
and in the Revolution and that's all that matters. I only under–
stand the things that concern me personally and I couldn't care
less about anything else."
A cat walked over the carpet and, in a familiar movement,
jumped onto Klavdia's lap.
It
had grown dark outside. In the
room next door a lamp was lit and a sewing-machine began to
rattle. Darkness descended on the world.
That evening Akim went to see his uncle Ivan, the uncle
who had changed his name from Skudrin to Ozhogov. The out–
cast came out of the kiln to meet his nephew. The earth is con–
stantly being churned up in the neighborhood of a brickworks,
the roofs of brick sheds are long and low and a brickworks always
has an air of ruin and mystery. Ivan the outcast was drunk. It
was impossible to talk with him, but he was very, very glad that
his nephew had come to see him. Shaking like a dog, he kept
his feet with difficulty.
He took his nephew into one of the brick sheds.
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