A Riverside Inn (Bunin)
Short summary
Russia, early 20th century. In a Prague restaurant, the narrator meets a military doctor friend. After dinner and drinks, the doctor becomes melancholic and shares a story from twenty years earlier when he served in a Volga town.
One September evening, he had noticed a beautiful young woman in grey hurrying to a church. Intrigued, he followed her inside and watched as she prayed fervently. Later that same night, by strange coincidence, he encountered her again at a riverside inn, accompanied by a disreputable former hussar officer.
I simply went blind with rage, as they say! I recognized in him an acquaintance of mine, a landowner who'd squandered all his money, a drunkard, a libertine, a former lieutenant in the hussars who'd been expelled...
The doctor confronted them, took the girl away, and comforted her as she cried. She defended her companion but eventually allowed the doctor to escort her partway home before disappearing. He never saw her again. Concluding his story, the doctor wondered if he should have interfered at all, since happiness takes many forms and memories remain painful regardless.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
The narrators dinner meeting with a military doctor in Prague
The narrator was standing in a crowded Prague restaurant, unable to find a seat amid the noise and music of the dinner hour. As he was about to leave, he spotted a military doctor he knew, who invited him to join his table by a window open to the warm spring night. They dined together, consuming vodka and Kakhetian wine while discussing the recently convened State Duma.
After dinner, the doctor mentioned feeling sad, which the narrator initially took as a joke since the doctor was typically tranquil and rather dry by nature. However, the doctor explained his melancholy was likely due to spring and the increased sensitivity that came with approaching old age.
With the approach of old age, and a dreamy, bachelor's one what's more, you become generally much more sensitive than in your youth. Can you sense the smell of poplars and the resonance of the trams' ringing?
The doctor then mentioned seeing the poet Bryusov in the restaurant earlier with a young woman who resembled a poor student. Bryusov had angrily confronted the head waiter before haughtily departing. The doctor noted how pitiful yet touching the girl had appeared, gazing in confusion and rapture at both Bryusov and the restaurant's unfamiliar splendor.
This encounter had stirred memories for the doctor, who ordered another glass of Shustovsky brandy from the elderly waiter Ivan Stepanych and began to tell the narrator a story from twenty years earlier.
The doctors first encounter with a mysterious girl in church
The doctor recalled how, as a young military doctor in a town on the Volga some twenty years earlier, he had been walking through the streets on a beautiful September evening. He noticed a smartly dressed girl in a grey suit and hat walking rapidly ahead of him. Something about her intrigued him greatly, and he found himself unconsciously quickening his pace to follow her.
I see her and sense that there's something about her that I like terribly, and apart from that it seems somewhat strange: why is she hurrying so, and where to? ... for some reason it intrigues me.
The girl headed toward an old church on a corner. She entered with difficulty, and the young doctor followed her inside. Unaware of his presence, she approached the ambo, crossed herself, and knelt down. She gazed imploringly at the altar, as if asking for God's help in great sorrow or ardent desire.
The doctor observed her slender waist and the elegant shape of her figure as she prayed. Several times she pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. Then, seemingly resolved upon something, she quickly rose and rushed toward the exit. When she suddenly noticed the doctor watching her, her beautiful eyes, shining with tears, flashed with terrible fright.
A coincidental second meeting at the riverside inn
That same evening, the doctor decided to visit a summer inn on the Volga where he had rarely gone before. He described it as a strange coincidence that led him there, as if something was directing him. The inn was an expensive establishment famous for merchants' extravagant binges, built on piles over the water with windows opening to the vast river.
Why I went specifically on that already fresh evening, God knows: it was as if something was directing me. Of course, you could say that it was simply chance: the man went along, having nothing else to do...
The doctor sat alone drinking beer and contemplating the vulgarity of provincial Russian entertainment venues compared to the incomparable beauty of the Volga itself. As midnight approached, the inn began to fill with merchants, clerks, and actors. A troupe of balalaika players and female singers performed on a platform, followed by a renowned accordion player named Ivan Grachov.
Just as Grachov began singing, the doctor was stunned to see the same girl from the church enter through a door behind the platform. She was now wearing a khaki-colored peaked cap and waterproof coat, accompanied by a short, dark-faced man in a nobleman's cap. The doctor recognized him as a disreputable landowner who had squandered his money—a drunkard, libertine, and former lieutenant expelled from his regiment.
Without thinking, the doctor rushed forward, pushed the man aside, and whispered furiously to the girl about the inappropriate company she was keeping. He grabbed her arm and threatened to maim the former lieutenant if she didn't leave with him immediately. The girl bowed her head and followed him out.
Outside, under a streetlamp, she stopped and began shaking with tears. The doctor sat her on a bench, holding her hand while she defended her companion, saying he was a good, kind, and generous man despite his misfortunes. The doctor remained silent, knowing objections would be useless.
She was speaking incoherently: 'No, it's not true, it's not true, he's a good man... he's unhappy, but he's kind, generous, carefree...' I was silent – to object was useless.
Eventually, he hailed a cabman, and they rode in silence toward town. In the square, she asked to be released, saying she didn't want him to know where she lived. After suddenly kissing his hand, she slipped away and walked across the square without looking back. The doctor never saw her again and never learned who she was.
Parting thoughts about interfering in others happiness
After finishing their meal, the narrator and the doctor left the restaurant and paused to say goodbye at the corner of the Arbat. The streets were quiet and empty, with the scent of spring rain in the air. The doctor confessed that he later regretted his interference in the girl's life.
Isn't it all the same what makes a person happy and how? Consequences? But they always exist just the same: I mean, cruel traces remain in your soul from everything – memories, that is, which are especially cruel...
He questioned why he had interfered at all, suggesting that perhaps it shouldn't matter what makes a person happy or how they find happiness. The doctor reflected that painful memories remain regardless, especially memories of happiness. With these philosophical musings, he bid the narrator farewell, and they parted ways.