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  THE

  POSSESSED

  A Play

  in Three Parts

  ALBERT CAMUS

  Translated from the French by

  JUSTIN O'BRIEN

  ALFRED A. KNOPF

  L. C. catalog card number: 60-7296

  ? Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., i960

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK,

  PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC.

  Copyright i960 by ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. All

  rights reserved. No part of this book may be re-

  produced in any form without permission in writ-

  ing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who

  may quote brief passages in a review to be printed

  in a magazine or newspaper. Manufactured in the

  United States of America. Published simultane-

  ously in Canada by McClelland & Stewart, Ltd.

  FIRST AMERICAN EDITION

  Originally published in French as LES POSSEDES.

  ? 1959, Librairie Gallimard.

  FOREWORD

  THE POSSESSED is one of the four or five works that

  1 rank above all others. In many ways I can claim

  that I grew up on it and took sustenance from it.

  For almost twenty years, in any event, 1 have vis-

  ualized its characters on the stage. Besides having

  the stature of dramatic characters, they have the

  appropriate behavior, the explosions, the swift and

  disconcerting gait. Moreover, Dostoevsky uses a

  theater technique in his novels: he works through

  dialogues with few indications as to place and ac-

  tion. A man of the theater?whether actor, director,

  or author?always finds in him all the suggestions

  he needs.

  And now THE POSSESSED has reached the stage

  after several years of labor and persistence. And yet

  I am well aware of all that separates the play from

  that amazing novel! I merely tried to follow the

  book's undercurrent and to proceed as it does from

  satiric comedy to drama and then to tragedy. Both

  the original and the dramatic adaptation start from

  a certain realism and endup in tragic stylization. As

  for the rest, I tried, amidst this vast, preposterous,

  panting world full of outbursts and scenes of vio-

  Foreword

  VI

  lence, never to lose the thread of suffering and af-

  fection that makes Dostoevsky's universe so close to

  each of us. Dostoevsky's characters, as -we know

  well by now, are neither odd nor absurd. They are

  like us; we have the same heart. And if THE POS-

  SESSED is a prophetic book, this is not only because

  it prefigures our nihilism, but also because its pro-

  tagonists are torn or dead souls unable to love and

  suffering from that inability, wanting to believe and

  yet unable to do so?like those who people our so-

  ciety and our spiritual world today. The subject of

  this work is just as much the murder of Shatov (in-

  spired by a real event?the assassination of the stu-

  dent Ivanov by the nihilist Nechayev) as the

  spiritual adventure and death of Stavrogin, a con-

  temporary hero. Hence we have dramatized not

  only one of the masterpieces of world literature but

  also a work of current application.

  ALBERT CAMUS

  N.B. The adaptation of THE POSSESSED reintegrates

  into the work Stavrogin1 s confession (which was

  not published because of censorship, though its

  place in the narrative is known to us) and utilizes

  the several hundred pages that make up the NOTE-

  BOOKS of THE POSSESSED kept by the author while

  he was writing the novel.

  FIRST PART

  v>xxO J.

  GRIGORIEV, the narrator

  STEPAN TROFIMQVICH

  VERKHOVENSKY

  VARVARA PETROVNA

  STAVROGIN

  LIPUTIN

  SHIGALOV

  IVAN SHATOV

  VIRGINSKY

  GAGANOV

  ALEXEY YEGOROVICH

  NICHOLAS STAVROGIN

  PRASCOVYA DROZDOV

  DASHA SHATOV

  ALEXEY KIRILOV

  LISA DROZDOV

  MAURICE NICOLAEVICH

  MARIA TIMOFEYEVNA

  LEBYATKIN

  CAPTAIN LEBYATKIN

  PETER STEPANOVICH

  VERKHOVENSKY

  FEDKA

  THE SEMINARIAN

  LYAMSHIN

  BISHOP TIHON

  GAGANOV'S SON

  MARIA SHATOV

  NOTE: The necessities of stage production called for fairly

  numerous cuts in the text of the adaptation. This

  edition contains all the passages and scenes cut in

  the production. They have been set between

  brackets.

  SETS

  i. At Varvara Stavrogin's. A luxurious period drawing

  room.

  2. Filipov's poor rooming house. Double set, representing

  a living room and a small bedroom.

  3. The street.

  4. Lebyatkin's dwelling. A wretched living room in the

  suburb.

  5. The forest.

  6. At Tihon's. A vast hall in the Convent of the Virgin.

  7. The main drawing room in the Stavrogin country-

  house, at Skvoreshniki.

  FIRST PART

  When the theater is altogether dark, a spotlight

  picks out the NARRATOR standing in front of the cur-

  tain with hat in hand.

  ANTON GRIGORIEV, the NARRATOR (cOUrteOUS, COlmy

  and ironic) -.

  Ladies and Gentlemen,

  The strange events you are about to witness

  took place in our provincial city under the in-

  fluence of my esteemed friend Professor Stepan

  Troflmovich Verkhovensky. The Professor had

  always played a thoroughly patriotic role among

  us. He was liberal and idealistic, loving the West,

  progress, justice, and generally everything lofty.

  But on those heights he unfortunately fell to

  imagining that the Tsar and his Ministers had a

  particular grudge against him, and he settled

  among us to play the part of the persecuted

  thinker in exile. It must be said that he did so with

  great dignity. Simply, three or four times a year

  he had attacks of patriotic melancholy that kept

  him in bed with a hot-water bottle on his belly.

  He lived in the house of his friend Varvara

  Stavrogin, the widow of the General, who, after

  her husband's death, had entrusted to him the up-

  bringing of her son, Nicholas Stavrogin. Oh, I

  forgot to tell you that Stepan Troflmovich was

  First Part 4

  twice widowed and once a father. He had shipped

  his son abroad. Both his wives had died young,

  and, to tell the truth, they hadn't been very

  happy with him. But it is hardly possible to love

  one's wife and justice at the same time. Conse-

  quently, Stepan Trofimovich transferred all his

  affection to his pupil, Nicholas Stavrogin, to

  whose moral education he
applied himself most

  rigorously until Nicholas fled home and took to

  indulging in wild debauch. Hence, Stepan Tro-

  fimovich remained alone with Varvara Stavrogin,

  who felt an unlimited friendship for him?in

  other words, she often hated him. That is where

  my story begins.

  SCENE 1

  The curtain rises on Varvara Stavrogin's draining

  room. The NARRATOR goes over and sits down at the

  table to play cards with STEP AN TROFIMOVICH.

  STEP AN: Oh, I forgot to ask you to cut the cards.

  Forgive me, Anton, but I didn't sleep well at all

  last night. How I regretted having complained to

  you of Varvara!

  GRIGORIEV: You merely said she was keeping you

  out of vanity and that she was jealous of your

  education.

  STEP AN: That's what I mean. But it's not true!

  Your turn. You see, she's an angel of honor and

  sensitivity, and I'm just the reverse.

  (VARVARA STAVROGIN comes in, but stops at the

  door.)

  VARVARA: Cards again! (They rise.) Sit down and

  go on. I am busy. (She goes over to look at some

  papers on a table at the left. They continue play-

  ing, but STEP AN TROFIMOVICH keeps glancing at

  VARVARA STAVROGIN, who finally speaks, avoiding

  his eyes.) I thought you were to work on your

  book this morning.

  STEPAN: I took a walk in the garden. I had taken

  Tocqueville under my arm?

  VARVARA: And you read Paul de Kock instead.

  But you have been announcing your book for

  fifteen years now.

  First Part

  6

  STEP AN: Yes, I have gathered the material, but I

  have to put it together. It doesn't matter any-

  way! I am forgotten. No one needs me.

  VARVARA: You would be less forgotten if you

  played cards less often.

  STEP AN: Yes, I play cards. And it's unworthy of

  me. But who is responsible? Who nipped my

  career in the bud? Ah, que meure la Russie! I'll

  trump that.

  VARVARA: Nothing keeps you from working and

  from proving by your work that people were

  wrong to neglect you.

  STEPAN: You are forgetting, chere amie, that I

  have published a great deal.

  VARVARA: Indeed? Who remembers that now?

  STEPAN: Who? Why, our friend here certainly

  remembers it.

  GRIGORIEV: Of course I do. To begin with, your

  lectures on the nature of the Arabs, then the start

  of your study on the exceptional moral nobility

  of certain knights at a certain period, and, above

  all, your thesis on the importance that the small

  city of Hanau might have achieved between 1413

  and 1428 if it had not been prevented from doing

  so by half-hidden causes, which you analyzed

  brilliantly.

  STEPAN: You have a memory like a steel trap, An-

  ton. Thank you.

  VARVARA: That is not the point. The point is that

  for fifteen years you have been announcing a

  a book and you haven't written a single word

  of it.

  STEPAN: Of course not, that would be too easy!

  7 Scenei

  I want to be sterile and solitary! That ?will teach

  them what they have lost. I want to be a living

  reproach!

  VARVARA: You would be if you spent less time in

  bed.

  STEPAN: What?

  VARVARA: Yes, to be a living reproach one has to

  stand on one's feet.

  STEPAN: Standing up or lying down, the impor-

  tant thing is to personify the idea. Besides, I am

  active, I am active, and always according to my

  principles. This very week I signed a protest.

  VARVARA: Against what?

  STEPAN: I don't know. It was . . . oh, I've for-

  gotten. // fallait protester, voila tout. Oh, in my

  time everything was different. I used to work

  twelve hours a day. . . .

  VARVARA: Five or six would have been

  enough. . . .

  STEPAN: I used to spend hours in the library gath-

  ering mountains of notes. We had hope then!

  We used to talk until daybreak, building the

  future. Oh, how noble we were then, strong as

  steel, firm as the Rock of Gibraltar! Those were

  evenings truly worthy of Athens: music, Spanish

  melodies, love of humanity, the Sistine Madonna

  . . . O ma noble et fidele amie, have you any

  idea of all I gave up?

  VARVARA: No. (She rises.) But I know that if you

  talked until dawn you couldn't work twelve

  hours a day. Besides, all this is mere talk! You

  know that at long last I am expecting my son,

  Nicholas, any moment. ... I must have a word

  First Part

  8

  with you. (GRIGORIEV gets up, comes over, and

  kisses her hand.) Thank you, Anton, you are

  discreet. Stay in the garden and you can come

  back later.

  (GRIGORIEV leaves.)

  STEP AN: Quel bonheur, ma noble amie, de revoir

  notre Nicolas!

  VARVARA: Yes, I am very happy. He is my whole

  life. But I am worried.

  STEP AN: Worried?

  VARVARA: Yes?don't act like a male nurse?I am

  worried. By the way, since when have you been

  wearing red neckties?

  STEP AN: Why, just today I?

  VARVARA: It doesn't suit your age, in my opinion.

  Where was I? Yes, I am worried. And you know

  very well why. All those rumors ... I can't

  believe them, and yet I can't forget them. De-

  bauchery, violence, duels, he insults everybody,

  he frequents the dregs of society! Absurd, ab-

  surd! And, yet, suppose it were true?

  STEP AN: But it isn't possible. Just remember the

  dreamy, affectionate child he was. Just remember

  the touching melancholies he used to fail into. No

  one but an exceptional soul can feel such melan-

  choly ... as I am well aware.

  VARVARA: You are forgetting that he is no longer a

  child.

  [STEPAN: But his health is poor. Just remember:

  he used to weep for nights on end. Can you

  imagine him forcing men to fight?

  VARVARA: He was in no way weak! What has

  made you imagine that? He was simply high-

  g Scene i

  strung, that's all. But you got it into your head

  to wake him up in the middle of the night, when

  he was twelve years old, to tell him your trou-

  bles. That's the kind of tutor you were.

  STEPAN: he cher ange loved me. He used to ask

  me to confide in him and would weep in my

  arms.

  VARVARA: The angel has changed. I am told that I

  wouldn't recognize him now, that his physical

  strength is exceptional.]

  STEPAN: But what does he tell you in his letters?

  VARVARA: His letters are few and far between but

  always respectful.

  STEPAN: You see?

  VARVARA: I see nothing. You should get out of the

&
nbsp; habit of talking without saying anything. And,

  besides, the facts speak for themselves. Did he or

  didn't he have his commission taken away from

  him because he had seriously wounded another

  officer in a duel?

  STEPAN: That's not a crime. He was motivated by

  the warmth of his noble blood. That's all very

  chivalrous.

  VARVARA: Yes. But it is less chivalrous to live in

  the vilest sections of St. Petersburg and to enjoy

  the company of cutthroats and drunkards.

  STEPAN (laughing): Oh, that's simply Prince Har-

  ry's youth all over again!

  VARVARA: What do you mean by that?

  STEPAN: Why, Shakespeare, ma noble amie, im-

  mortal Shakespeare, the genius of geniuses, great

  Will, in short, who shows us Prince Harry in-

  dulging in debauch with his friend Falstaff.

  First Part

  10

  VARVARA: I shall reread the play. By the way, are

  you taking any exercise? You are well aware that

  you should walk six versts a day. Good. In any

  case, I asked Nicholas to come home. I want you

  to sound him out. I plan to keep him here and to

  arrange his marriage.

  STEPAN: His marriage! Oh, how romantic that is!

  Have you anyone in mind?

  VARVARA: Yes, I am thinking of Lisa, the daughter

  of my friend Prascovya Drozdov. They are in

  Switzerland with my ward, Dasha. . . . But

  what does it matter to you?

  STEPAN: I love Nicholas as much as my own son.

  VARVARA: That isn't much. Altogether, you have

  seen your son only twice, including the day of

  his birth.

  STEPAN: His aunts brought him up and I sent him

  regularly the income from the little estate his

  mother left him, and all the time I suffered bit-

  terly from his absence. Moreover, he's a complete

  dud, poor in spirit and poor in heart. You should

  see the letters he writes me! You would think he

  was speaking to a servant. I asked him with all my

  paternal love if he didn't want to come and see

  me. Do you know what he replied? "If I come

  home, it will be to check up on my accounts, and

  to settle accounts too."

  VARVARA: Why don't you learn once and for all

  to make people respect you? Well, I shall leave

  you. It is time for your little gathering. Your

  friends, your little spree, cards, atheism, and,

  above all, the stench, the stench of tobacco and

  of men ... I am leaving. Don't drink too much;

  11

  Scene i

  you know it upsets you. . . . Good-by! (She

  looks at him; then, shrugging her shoulders:) A

  red necktie! (She leaves.)

  STEPAN (follows her with his eyes, starts to stam-

  mer, then looks toward the desk): O femme

  cruelle, implacable! And I can't talk to her! I

  shall write her a letter! (He goes toward the

  table.)

  VARVARA (thrusting her head in the door): And, by

  the way, stop writing me letters. We live in the

  same house; it is ridiculous to exchange letters.

  Your friends are here. (She leaves, GRIGORIEV,

  LIPUTIN, and SHIGALOV come in.)

  STEPAN: Good day, my dear Liputin, good day.

  Forgive my emotion. ... I am hated. . . . Yes,

  I am literally hated. But I don't care! Your wife

  is not with you?

  LIPUTIN: No. Wives must stay at home and fear

  God.

  STEPAN: But aren't you an atheist?

  LIPUTIN: Yes. Shhhh! Don't say it so loud. That's

  just it. A husband who is an atheist must teach

  his wife the fear of God. That liberates him even

  more. Look at our friend Virginsky. I just met

  him now. He had to go out and do his marketing

  himself because his wife was with Captain Leb-

  yatkin.

  STEPAN: Yes, yes, I know what people say, but it's

  not true. His wife is a noble creature. Besides,

  they all are.

  LIPUTIN: What, not true? I was told it by Vir-

  ginsky himself. He converted his wife to our

  ideas. He convinced her that man is a free crea-

  First Part

  12

  ture, or ought to be such. So she freed herself

  and, later on, simply told Virginsky that she was

  dismissing him as her husband and taking Captain

  Lebyatkin in his place. And do you know what

  Virginsky said to his wife when she announced

  this news? He said: "My dear, up to now I

  merely loved you; from now on, I esteem you."

  STEP AN: He's a true Roman.

  GRIGORIEV: I was told, on the contrary, that when

  his wife dismissed him, he burst into sobs.

  STEPAN: Yes, yes. He's an affectionate soul, (SHA-

  TOV comes in.) But here's our friend Shatov. Any

  news of your sister?

  SHATOV: Dasha is about to come home. Since you

  ask me, I shall tell you that she is bored in Swit-

  zerland with Prascovya Drozdov and Lisa. I am

  telling you, although in my opinion it is no con-

  cern of yours.

  STEPAN: Of course not. But she is coming home,

  and that is the main thing. Oh, my dear friends,

  it's impossible to live far from Russia?

  LIPUTIN: But it's impossible to live in Russia too.

  We need something else, and there is nothing.

  STEPAN: What do you suggest?

  LIPUTIN: Everything must be made over.

  SHIGALOV: Yes, but you don't draw the conclu-

  sions, (SHATOV goes over and sits down gloomily

  and places his cap beside him. VIRGINSKY and then