The Death of Ivan Ilyich

The Death of Ivan Ilyich

Leo Tolstoy

During a recess in the Melvinsky case at the law courts, the members and the prosecutor gathered in Ivan Yegorovich Shebek's cabinet, and conversation turned to the famous Krasovski case. Fedor Vasilievich got heated, arguing about the jurisdiction, while Ivan Yegorovich stood his ground, and Peter Ivanovich, who hadn't initially joined the debate, took no part and only glanced through the just-delivered "Gazette."

"Gentlemen!" he said, "Ivan Ilyich has died."

"Really?"

"Here, read this," he said, passing a fresh, fragrant issue to Fedor Vasilievich.

In a black border, it read: "Praskovya Fedorovna Golovina, with heartfelt sorrow, informs relatives and acquaintances of the passing of her beloved husband, member of the Court of Justice, Ivan Ilyich Golovin, on February 4th of this year, 1882. Body will be taken out Friday, in the afternoon."

Ivan Ilyich was a colleague of the gentlemen present, and everyone liked him. He had been ill for several weeks; it was said his illness was incurable. His place remained open, but there was speculation that in the event of his death, Alexeev might be appointed in his place, and then either Vinnikov or Stabel might fill Alexeev's place. So, upon hearing of Ivan Ilyich's death, the first thought of each of the gentlemen gathered in the office was what significance this death might have on the promotions or transfers of the members themselves or their acquaintances.

"Now, I'll probably get Stabel's or Vinnikov's place," thought Fedor Vasilievich. "It's been promised to me for a while, and this promotion means an eight-hundred-ruble increase for me, in addition to the office."

"Now I'll have to ask for my brother-in-law's transfer from Kaluga," thought Peter Ivanovich. "My wife will be very pleased. Now no one can say I never did anything for her relatives."

"I thought he wouldn't recover," Peter Ivanovich said aloud. "It's a pity."

"What was wrong with him, exactly?"

"The doctors couldn't say. Or rather, they all said different things. When I saw him last, I thought he'd get better."

"I haven't seen him since the holidays. I kept meaning to visit."

"Did he leave much behind?"

"Apparently, very little. His wife had something, but it was insignificant."

"Yes, I'll have to go. They lived terribly far away."

"Far from you, maybe. Everything's far from you."

"I can't forgive myself for living across the river," Peter Ivanovich said, smiling at Shebek. And they began to talk about the distances of the city, and then went to the session.

Apart from the considerations about promotions and possible changes in service resulting from this death, the fact of the death of a close acquaintance, as always, brought joy to all who heard of it, that he died and not I.

"Here lies one who has died; I'm still alive," each one thought or felt. Ivan Ilyich's close acquaintances, his so-called friends, involuntarily thought that now they would have to fulfill very boring obligations of decency and attend the requiem and visit the widow to offer condolences.

Fedor Vasilievich and Peter Ivanovich were the closest.

Peter Ivanovich had been a schoolmate in law school and considered himself obliged to Ivan Ilyich.

After informing his wife over lunch of Ivan Ilyich's death and his thoughts about the possibility of his brother-in-law's transfer to their district, Peter Ivanovich, without resting, put on his tailcoat and went to Ivan Ilyich's.

At the entrance to Ivan Ilyich's apartment, there was a carriage and two drivers. Downstairs, in the front hall, leaned against the wall, was the glass-covered lid of the coffin with the brushes and polished copper handles. Two ladies in black were taking off their fur coats. One was Ivan Ilyich's sister, the other an unfamiliar lady. Peter Ivanovich's friend, Schwartz, had gone up to the top and, seeing Peter Ivanovich coming in, stopped on the top step and winked at him, as if to say, "Ivan Ilyich has made a foolish arrangement: it's better between us."

The younger brother did not graduate and was expelled from the fifth grade, while Ivan Ilyich successfully completed the course. In Jurisprudence, he was already what he would be throughout his life: a capable, cheerful, sociable person who strictly fulfilled what he considered his duty. And he considered his duty to be everything that was considered such by the highest-placed people. He was not sycophantic as a boy or as an adult, but from a young age, he was drawn to the highest-placed people, absorbing their manners, their views on life, and establishing friendly relations with them. All the hobbies of his childhood and youth passed by him, leaving little trace; he indulged in sensuality and vanity, and - towards the end, in the higher grades - liberalism, but all within certain limits dictated by his conscience.

There were actions he committed in Jurisprudence that he had previously considered abominable and had filled him with self-disgust at the time, but later, seeing that these actions were committed by high-ranking people and were not considered bad by them, he not only accepted them as good but completely forgot them and was not at all troubled by memories of them.

Leaving Jurisprudence in the tenth grade and receiving money from his father for his uniform, Ivan Ilyich ordered himself a suit from Sharmer, hung a medal with the inscription "respice finem" on his watch chain, said goodbye to the prince and the tutor, had lunch with his classmates at Donon's, and with his new fashionable suitcase, clothes, shaving and toilet accessories, and a blanket purchased and ordered from the best shops, he left for the province to take up the position of a special assignments clerk for the governor, a position his father secured for him.

In the province, Ivan Ilyich immediately settled into the same easy and pleasant position as he had in Jurisprudence. He served, pursued a career, and at the same time enjoyed himself pleasantly and decently; occasionally he traveled on orders from his superiors to the districts, conducted himself with dignity, was accurate and incorruptibly honest, something he couldn't help but be proud of, fulfilled the tasks assigned to him, mainly regarding schismatics.

In official matters, despite his youth and inclination for light-hearted fun, he was extremely restrained, official, and even strict; but in social matters, he was often playful and witty and always good-natured, decent, and bon enfant, as his superiors, with whom he was a domestic man, said about him.

In the province, there was a connection with one of the ladies who had imposed herself on the somewhat dandyish jurist; there was also a modiste; there were revelries with visiting aide-de-camps and trips to distant streets after dinner; there was also servility to the chief and even to the chief's wife, but all this carried such a high tone of propriety that none of it could be called bad; it all fell under the category of the French saying: "il faut que jeunesse se passe" (youth must be lived). Everything happened with clean hands, in clean shirts, with French words, and, most importantly, in the highest society, therefore, with the approval of high-ranking people.

So Ivan Ilyich served for five years, and a change in his career came. New judicial institutions appeared; new people were needed.

And Ivan Ilyich became one of those new people.

Ivan Ilyich was offered a position as a judicial investigator, and he accepted it, despite the fact that the position was in another province and he had to leave behind established relationships and establish new ones. Ivan Ilyich was seen off by friends, formed a group, was given a silver cigarette case, and he left for his new position.

As a judicial investigator, Ivan Ilyich was just as comme il faut, decent, able to separate official duties from private life, and commanded general respect, as he had been as a special assignments clerk. The position of an investigator itself was much more interesting and attractive to Ivan Ilyich than his previous one. In his previous position, it was pleasant to swagger in his Sharmer uniform past trembling applicants and officials waiting for an audience, envious of him, straight into the chief's office and have tea with him and smoke a cigarette; but there were few people directly dependent on his whim. Such people were only convicts and schismatics when he was sent on assignments; and he liked to treat such people, dependent on him, politely, almost like friends, liked to make them feel that he, who could crush them, was just being friendly and simple with them. There were few such people back then. Now, as a judicial investigator, Ivan Ilyich felt that everyone, without exception, the most important and self-satisfied people - were all in his hands, and all he had to do was write certain words on paper with a heading, and this important, self-satisfied person would be brought to him as an accused or witness, and he would stand before him and answer his questions if he didn't want to prosecute him. Ivan Ilyich never abused this power, on the contrary, he tried to soften its expressions; but the awareness of this power and the ability to soften it constituted the main interest and attractiveness of his new position for him. In the very service, specifically in the investigations, Ivan Ilyich very quickly absorbed the technique of removing all circumstances not related to the case from himself, and of presenting every complex case in such a form that it only externally reflected on paper and completely excluded his personal opinion, and, most importantly, observed all the required formalities. This was a new thing. And he was one of the first people to implement the application of the statutes of 1864 in practice.

A week later, he telegraphed his wife:

"Zakhar, at Miller's place, upon the first report, I receive the appointment."

Thanks to this change of faces, Ivan Ilyich unexpectedly received a position in his former ministry where he rose two levels above his colleagues: a salary of five thousand and a bonus of three thousand five hundred. All his annoyance at his former enemies and at the entire ministry was forgotten, and Ivan Ilyich was completely happy.

Ivan Ilyich returned to the village cheerful, satisfied, as he had not been in a long time. Praskovya Fedorovna also brightened up, and a truce was concluded between them. Ivan Ilyich talked about how everyone had honored him in St. Petersburg, how all those who had been his enemies were now disgraced and humble before him, how they envied him for his position, especially how everyone loved him so much in St. Petersburg.

Praskovya Fedorovna listened to this and pretended to believe it, not contradicting anything, only making plans for a new life arrangement in the city they were moving to. And Ivan Ilyich joyfully saw that these plans were his plans, that they coincided, and that again his stumbling life was acquiring a genuine, characteristic nature of cheerful pleasantness and decency.

Ivan Ilyich came for a short time. On September 10, he had to take up his position, and besides, there was time to settle in the new place, transfer everything from the province, buy additional items, order more; in short, to settle in the way he had decided in his mind, and almost exactly as it was decided in the soul of Praskovya Fedorovna.

And now, when everything was arranged so successfully, and when they shared the same goals with his wife, and, moreover, spent little time together, they came together as harmoniously as they did in the first years of their married life. Ivan Ilyich had thought of taking his family with him immediately, but the insistence of his sister and brother-in-law, who suddenly became particularly kind and related to Ivan Ilyich and his family, resulted in Ivan Ilyich leaving alone.

Ivan Ilyich left, and the cheerful disposition of mind, produced by success and harmony with his wife, one reinforcing the other, never left him. They found a delightful apartment, exactly what the husband and wife had dreamed of. Spacious, high, in the old style, reception rooms, a convenient grandiose study, rooms for the wife and daughter, a great one for the son — everything was as if specially designed for them. Ivan Ilyich himself took charge of the arrangement, choosing wallpaper, purchasing furniture, especially from the antique shops, to which he gave a special, tasteful style, upholstery, and everything grew, grew and came closer to the ideal he had envisioned. When he was halfway done, his arrangement surpassed his expectations. He understood the tasteful, elegant, and refined character that everything would take on when it was ready. Falling asleep, he imagined how the hall would look. Looking at the living room, not yet finished, he already saw the fireplace, screen, etagere, and these scattered chairs, these dishes and plates along the walls, and bronzes, when they would all be in their places. He was pleased at the thought of how he would impress Pasha and Lizanka, who also had a taste for such things. They are not expecting this at all. He particularly succeeded in finding and buying old items cheaply, which gave everything a particularly noble character. In his letters, he deliberately portrayed everything worse than it was, to impress them. All of this so occupied him that even his new job, which he loved, took up less time than he expected. He would sometimes be distracted in meetings: he would ponder whether the curtain rods should be straight or curved. He was so engrossed in this that he often did it himself, rearranging furniture and even hanging curtains himself. Once he climbed a ladder to show the wallpaper hanger how he wanted it draped, stumbled, and fell, but, being a strong and agile man, he managed to catch himself, only hitting the handle of the frame with his side. The bruise hurt for a while, but soon passed — Ivan Ilyich felt particularly cheerful and healthy all this time. He wrote: I feel like I've shed fifteen years. He thought of finishing in September, but it dragged on until mid-October. But it was delightful — not only did he say so, but everyone who saw him said so.