![]() She dropped her handkerchief and he nearly broke his nose trying to retrieve it. He longed to tell her not to have him executed but to kill him with her own hand, but instead informed her that her father wasn't there. That morning, the director's daughter had walked in, and he was again overwhelmed by her beauty and splendid clothes. Instead he contemplates the folly of the French, to whom he would like to administer a thrashing. He reflects on the nobility of his director, and begins to dream about the director's daughter, before abruptly cutting himself off. Today he was in the office as usual, mending pens. He had been shocked to hear Meggie tell Fidel that she has written him a letter, and he resolves to follow Fidel and her owner home to ascertain their address. He reminded himself that such things do happen, and recalled hearing about a fish that spoke in a strange language and two cows who entered a shop to ask for a pound of tea. He records that he heard her little dog Meggie engaging in conversation with another passing dog called Fidel, which greatly astonished him. He was completely overcome by her beauty, and effaced himself. ![]() On his way to work, he had encountered the director's daughter. He reflects sourly on other officials and the pointlessness of serving in his department, but is pleased that the tables are mahogany and everyone is addressed as "sir". He had gone, however, because he wanted to obtain an advance on his salary, though he knew that the "skinflint" accountant would not oblige. He believes the "long-legged scoundrel" is envious of his position as the mender of pens. Poprishchin records that he was reluctant to go to the office to face the disapproval of the chief clerk. It begins with a standard date-based diary format, but at a certain point even the dates take on an irrational form, as if the writer's sense of conventional time has dissolved. The entries haphazardly mix a past tense recounting of events of the day with present time registering of thoughts and associations relating to them. Everything is told exclusively from the point of view of the protagonist, and conclusions about him and what is happening to him can only ever be inferred from the solipsistic and increasingly fantastic narrative of events and thoughts recorded in his diary. Painting by Ilya Repin (1882)Īlthough nineteenth century medical authorities noted the accuracy of Gogol's depiction of the course of madness, the text itself (with the exception of the title) never crosses the boundary into objectification. ![]()
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