I Had Raised Dust: Selected Works

by Daniil Kharms

  The professor's wife chose the most out-of-the-way path and was just intending to bury the urn, when suddenly a watchman came along.

  -- Hey! -- shouted the watchman. -- What are you doing here? -- The professor's wife was frightened and said: -- I just wanted to catch some frogs in this jar.

  -- Well -- said the watchman -- that's all right, only watch it, and keep off the grass.

  When the watchman had gone, the professor's wife buried the urn, trod the earth down around it and went off for a stroll round the gardens.

  In the gardens, she was accosted by some sailor -- Come on, let's go for a little sleep -- he said.

  She replied: -- Why should one sleep in the daytime? -- But he stuck to his guns: sleep and more sleep.

  And the professor's wife really did feel like sleeping.

  She walked along the streets and she felt sleepy. People were running all around her in blue, or in green -- and she just felt sleepy.

  So she walked and slept. And she dreamed that Lev Tolstoy was coming towards her, holding a chamber-pot in his hands. She asked him: -- What's that, then? -- and he pointed to the chamber-pot, saying: -- Here, I've really done something and now I'm taking it to show the whole world. Let everyone see it -- he said.

  The professor's wife also had a look and saw that it seemed no longer to be Tolstoy, but a shed, and in the shed was a hen.

  The professor's wife tried to catch the hen, but the hen hid under a divan, from which it looked out, now in the form of a rabbit.

  The professor's wife crawled under the divan after the rabbit and woke up.

  She woke and looked around: she really was lying under a divan.

  The professor's wife crawled out from under the divan -- and saw her own room. And there stood the table with her undrunk coffee. On the table lay the message -- Herewith all that remains of your spouse.

  The professor's wife shed a few more tears and sat down to drink up her cold coffee.

  Suddenly a ring. What's that? Some people walk in and say -- Let's go.

  -- Where? -- asked the professor's wife.

  -- To the lunatic asylum -- they reply.

  The professor's wife began to shout and to dig in her heels, but the people grabbed her and took her off to the lunatic asylum.

  And there, on a bunk in a lunatic asylum, sits a completely normal professor's wife, holding a fishing rod and fishing on the floor for some invisible fish or other.

  This professor's wife is merely a pitiful example of how many unfortunates there are in life who do not occupy in life the position that they ought to occupy.

  (1936)

  The Cashier

  Masha found a mushroom, picked it and took it to the market. At the market, Masha was hit about the head, and there were further promises that she could be hit about the legs as well. Masha took fright and ran off.

  Masha ran to the co-operative store and wanted to hide there behind the cash desk. But the manager caught sight of Mashes and said: -- What's that you've got in your hands?

  And Masha said: -- A mushroom. The manager said: -- Why, you're a fine one, now! How would you like me to fix you up with a job?

  -- Oh, you won't fix me up -- said Masha. -- I'll fix you up here and now! -- said the manager. And he fixed Masha up with a job, turning the handle on the cash till.

  Masha turned and turned away on the handle on the cash till and suddenly died. The police arrived, drew up a report, and ordered the manager to pay a fine of fifteen roubles.

  -- What's the fine for? -- asked the manager.

  -- For murder -- replied the police.

  The manager took fright, hastily paid the fine and said: -- All right, only take this dead cashier out of here straight away.

  At this point the sales assistant from the fruit section said: -- No, wait a minute, you've got it wrong, she wasn't the cashier. She only turned the handle on the cash till. That's the cashier sitting there.

  -- It's all the same to us -- said the police -- we've been told to take a cashier out of here, so we'll take one out.

  The police started towards the cashier. The cashier thereupon lay down on the floor behind the cash desk and said: -- I won't go.

  -- Why won't you go, you silly woman? -- said the police.

  -- You're going to bury me alive -- said the cashier.

  The police started to try and lift the cashier up from the floor, but try as they might, they couldn't lift her, as she was extremely stout.

  -- Grab her by the legs -- said the sales assistant from the fruit section.

  -- No -- said the manager -- this cashier acts as my wife. I must therefore ask you not to expose her from the rear end.

  -- Do you hear? -- said the cashier -- don't you dare expose me from the rear end.

  The police look hold of the cashier under the arms and dragged and heaved her out of the co-operative store.

  The manager ordered the sales assistants to tidy up the store and get business under way.

  --- But what are we going to do with this dead woman? -- said the sales assistant from the fruit section, pointing at Masha.

  -- Good gracious me -- said the manager -- we've made a mess of the whole thing! Well, what in fact are we going to do with the dead woman?

  -- And who's going to sit at the cash till? -- asked the sales assistant.

  The manager clutched his head with both hands. He sent apples scattering along the counter with his knee and said: -- What's happened is monstrous!

  -- Monstrous! -- echoed the sales assistants in chorus.

  Suddenly the manager scratched his moustache and said: -- Ha, ha, I'm not so easily nonplussed. We'll seat the dead woman behind the till, and perhaps the public won't realise who's sitting there.

  They seated the dead woman at the cash desk, stuck a cigarette between her teeth to give her a greater resemblance to the living, and for additional verisimilitude gave her the mushroom to hold in her hands.

  The dead woman sat there looking quite alive, except that her facial colouring was very green, and one eye was open, while the other was completely closed.

  -- Never mind -- said the manager -- she'll do.

  And the public was already knocking at the doors, highly agitated that the shop had not been opened. In particular, one matriarchal figure in a silk coat was shouting her head off: she was shaking her purse and aiming a back heel kick at the door-handle. And behind the matriarchal figure some old woman with a pillowcase on her head was shouting and swearing, calling the manager of the co-operative store a stingy old swine.

  The manager opened the doors and admitted the public. The public charged straight to the meat section, and then to where the sugar and pepper were sold. But the old woman made straight for the fish section, and on the way glanced at the cashier and stopped.

  -- Good Lord -- she said -- Holy goats!

  And the matriarchal figure in the silk coat had already been round every section, and was rushing to the cash desk. But no sooner had she glimpsed the cashier then she stopped dead, stood in silence and just looked. And the sales assistants also stayed silent anal looked at the manager. And the manager peered out from behind the counter, waiting to see what would happen next.

  The matriarchal figure in the silk coat turned to the sales assistants and said: -- Who's that you've got sitting behind the cash till?

  And the sales assistants stayed silent, as they didn't know what to say.

  The manager also stayed silent.

  At this point people came running from all sides. Already there was a crowd on the street. Caretakers from nearby houses appeared on the scene. Whistles were heard blowing. In a word, an absolute scandal.

  The crowd was prepared to stand there outside the store until evening at least. But someone said that old women were plummeting out of a window on Ozerny Pereulok. Then the crowd outside the store thinned out, because a lot of people went over to Ozerny Pereulok.

  (1936)

  The Memoirs of a Wise Old Man

  I
used to be a very wise old man.

  Now I am not quite right; you may consider me even not to exist at all. But the time was when any one of you would have come to me and, whatever burden may have oppressed a person, whatever sins may have tormented his thoughts, I would have embraced him and said: -- My son, take comfort, for no burden is oppressing you and I see no bodily sins in you -- and he would scamper away from me in happiness and joy.

  I was great and strong. People who met me on the street would shy to one side and I would pass through a crowd like a flat iron.

  My feet would often be kissed, but I didn't protest: I knew I deserved it. why deprive people of the pleasure of honouring me? I myself, being extraordinarily lithe of body, even tried to kiss myself on my own foot. I sat on a bench, got hold of my right foot and pulled it up to my face. I managed to kiss the big toe. I was happy. I understood the happiness of others.

  Everyone worshipped me! And not only people, but even beasts, while even various insects crawled before me and wagged their tails. And cats! They simply adored me and, somehow or other gripping each other's paws, would run in front of me whenever I was on the staircase.

  At that time I was indeed very wise and understood everything. There was not a thing that would nonplus me. Just a minute's exertion of my colossal mind and the most complicated question would be resolved in the simplest possible manner. I was even taken to the Brain Institute and shown off to the learned professors. They measured my mind by electricity and simply boggled. -- We have never seen anything like it -- they said.

  I was married but rarely saw my wife. She was afraid of me: the enormity of my mind overwhelmed her. She did not so much live, as tremble; and if I as much as looked at her, she would begin to hiccup. We lived together for a long time, but then I think she disappeared somewhere. I don't remember exactly.

  Memory -- that's a strange thing altogether. How hard remembering is, and how easy forgetting That's how it often is: you memorise one thing, and then remember something entirely different. Or: you memorise something with some difficulty, but very thoroughly, and then you can't remember anything. That also happens. I would advise everyone to work a bit on their memory.

  I always believed in fair play and never beat anyone for no reason, because, when you are beating someone, you always go a bit daft and you might overdo it. Children, for example, should never be beaten with a knife or with anything made of iron, but women -- the opposite: they shouldn't be kicked. Animals -- they, it is said, have more endurance. But I have carried out experiments in this line and I know that this is not always the case.

  Thanks to my litheness, I was able to do things which no one else could do. For example, I managed to retrieve by hand from an extremely sinuous sewage pipe my brother's earring, which had accidently fallen there. I could, for example, hide in a comparatively small basket and put the lid on myself.

  Yes, certainly, I was phenomenal!

  My brother was my complete opposite: in the first place, he was taller and, secondly, more stupid.

  He and I were never very friendly. Although, however, we were friendly, even very. I've got something wrong here: to be exact, he and I were not friendly and were always on bad terms. And this is how we got crossed. I was standing beside a shop: they were issuing sugar there, and I was standing in the queue, trying not to listen to what was being said around me. I had slight toothache and was not in the greatest of moods. It was very cold outside, because everyone was standing in quilted fur coats and they were still freezing. I was also standing in a quilted fur, but I was not freezing myself, though my hands were freezing because I had to keep taking them out of my pockets to adjust the suitcase I was holding between my knees, so that it didn't go missing. Suddenly someone struck me on the back. I flew into a state of indescribable indignation and, quick as lightning, began to consider how to punish the offender. During this time, I was struck a second time on the back. I pricked up my ears, but decided against turning my head and pretended that I hadn't noticed. I just, to be on the safe side, took the suitcase in my hand. Seven minutes passed and I was struck on the back a third time. At this I turned round and saw in front of me a tall middle-aged man in a rather shabby, but still quite good, military fur coat.

  -- What do you want from me? -- I asked him in strict and even slightly metallic voice.

  -- And you, why don't you turn when you're called? -- he said.

  I had begun to think over the content of his words when he again opened his mouth and said: -- What's wrong with you? Don't you recognise me or something? I'm your brother.

  I again began to think over his words when he again opened his mouth and said: -- Just listen, brother mine. I'm four roubles short for the sugar and it's a nuisance to have to leave the queue. Lend me five and I'll settle up with you later. -- I started to ponder why my brother should be four roubles short, but he grabbed hold of my sleeve and said: -- Well, so then, are you going to lend your own brother some money? -- and with these words he undid my quilted fur for me himself, got into my inside pocket and reached my purse.

  -- Here we are -- he said. -- I'm taking a loan of a certain sum, and your purse, look, here it is, I'm putting back in your coat. -- And he shoved my purse into the outer pocket of my fur.

  I was of course surprised at meeting my brother so unexpectedly. For a while I was silent, and then I asked him: -- But where have you been until now?

  -- There -- replied my brother, waving in some direction or other.

  I started thinking over where this 'there' might be, but my brother nudged me in the side and said: -- Look, they've started letting us in to the shop.

  We went together as far as the shop doors, but inside the shop I proved to be on my own, without my brother. Just for a moment, I jumped out of the queue and looked through the door on to the street. But there was no sign of my brother.

  When I again wanted to take my place in the queue, they wouldn't let me in and even pushed me gradually out on to the street. Holding back my anger at such bad manners, I went off home. At home I discovered that my brother had taken all the money from my purse. At this stage I got absolutely furious with my brother, and since then he and I have never made it up.

  I lived alone and granted admittance only to those who came to me for advice. But there were many of these and it turned out that I knew peace neither by day nor by night. Sometimes I would get so tired that I would lie down on the floor and rest. I would lie on the floor until I got cold; then I would jump up and start running round the room, to warm up. Then I would again sit down on the bench and give advice to all in need of it.

  They would come in to me one after the other, sometimes not even opening the doors. I used to enjoy looking at their excruciating faces. I would talk to them, hardly able to stop myself laughing.

  Once I couldn't contain myself and burst out laughing. They rushed in horror to escape -- some through the door, some through the window, and some straight through the walls.

  Left on my own, I drew myself up to my full majestic height, opened my mouth and said: -- Prin tim pram.

  But at this point something in me cracked and, since then, you might consider that I am no more.

  (1936-8)

  Comprehensive Research

  YERMOLAYEV I have been at Blinov's and he gave me a demonstration of his strength. I've never seen anything like it. The strength of a wild animal! It was awful to behold. Blinov lifted up a writing table, swung it about and tossed it all of four metres away from him.

  DOCTOR It would be interesting to research this phenomenon. Such facts are known to science, but the reasons for it are not understood. Where such muscular strength comes from, scientists are not yet able to say. Introduce me to Blinov. I'll give him a research pill.

  YERMOLAYEV What sort of a pill is it that you are intending to give Blinov?

  DOCTOR Pill? I don't intend to give him a pill.

  YERMOLAYEV But you only just said yourself that you were intending to give him a pill.
r />   DOCTOR No, no. you are mistaken. I didn't mention a pill.

  YERMOLAYEV Well, excuse me, but I heard you mention a pill.

  DOCTOR No.

  YERMOLAYEV What do you mean -- no?

  DOCTOR I didn't say that.

  YERMOLAYEV Who didn't say it?

  DOCTOR You didn't say it.

  YERMOLAYEV What didn't I say?

  DOCTOR You, it seems to me, didn't finish saying something.

  YERMOLAYEV I don't understand. What didn't I finish saying?

  DOCTOR Your speech pattern is very typical. You swallow your words, you don't complete the utterance of your initial thought, you hurry and then you stutter.

  YERMOLAYEV When did I stutter? I speak quite fluently.

  DOCTOR Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Do you see? You're even starting to come out in red blotches from the tension. Your hands haven't gone cold yet?

  YERMOLAYEV No, but so what?

  DOCTOR Yes, that was my supposition. I think you're already having trouble breathing. You'd better sit down, before you fall down. That's right. Now have a rest.

  YERMOLAYEV But what for?

  DOCTOR Shh! Don't strain your vocal chords. Now I'm going to alleviate your fate.

  YERMOLAYEV Doctor! You frighten me.

  DOCTOR My dear friend! I want to help you. Here, take this. Swallow it!

  YERMOLAYEV Oh. Ooh! What a vile, disgustingly sweet taste! What is it you've given me?

  DOCTOR Nothing, it's all right. Calm down. It's a sure remedy.

  YERMOLAYEV I'm hot and everything seems to be turning green.

  DOCTOR Yes, that's right, my dear friend. In a minute, you'll die.

  YERMOLAYEV What are you saying? Doctor! Oh! I can't! Doctor! What have you given me? Oh, Doctor!

  DOCTOR You have swallowed the research pill.