Pure Monday (Bunin)
Short summary
Moscow, early 1900s. A wealthy young man was in love with a beautiful, enigmatic woman student. Every evening he visited her apartment opposite the Church of Christ the Saviour, took her to expensive restaurants, theaters, and nightclubs.
Their relationship was unusual - they were not fully intimate, and she deflected all conversations about their future. She lived alone in a well-furnished apartment, enjoyed fine clothing and good food, but seemed detached from these pleasures. She often read in silence or played the opening of "The Moonlight Sonata" on her piano.
On Pure Monday, the day before Lent began, she took him to the New Maiden Convent and spoke of Russian traditions and religious practices. That evening, they attended an actors' party where she danced and drank champagne. Returning to her apartment, they became intimate for the first time.
At dawn I felt her moving. I opened my eyes – she was staring at me. I raised myself a little from the warmth of the bed and her body, and she leant towards me, saying quietly and evenly: "I'm leaving this evening for Tver."
Two weeks later, he received a letter saying she would not return to Moscow and planned to become a novice in a convent. Nearly two years later, visiting the Convent of Saints Martha and Mary, he glimpsed a nun who seemed to recognize him in the darkness - possibly his beloved who had chosen a religious life.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
Evening rendezvous in Moscow
In Moscow during a grey winter, a young wealthy man regularly visited his beloved in the evenings. Every day at dusk, his coachman drove him from the Red Gates to her apartment opposite the Church of Christ the Saviour. He would take her to dinner at prestigious restaurants like the Prague, the Hermitage, or the Metropole, followed by theaters or concerts, and then to nightspots like the Yar or the Strelna.
Their relationship was enigmatic and tense. They were not fully intimate, and she deflected all conversations about their future. This kept the narrator in a state of unresolved tension and agonizing expectation, yet he was ineffably happy with every hour spent beside her. He did not know how their relationship would end and tried not to think about it.
How it was all going to end, I did not know and tried not to think, I tried not to think it through: it was useless – just as was talking to her about it, for she had deflected conversations about our future once and for all.
Her mysterious character and interests
The narrator's beloved was a student who rarely attended women's courses. She lived alone in a spacious, well-furnished corner apartment on the fourth floor, with a view of Moscow. Her widowed father, an enlightened man from a distinguished merchant family, lived in retirement in Tver and collected things, as merchants often did.
She had a striking beauty with Indian or Persian features: a swarthily amber face, dense black hair, eyebrows like black sable fur, and eyes like velvet coal. Her only obvious weakness was for fine clothing, velvet, silks, and expensive fur. While the narrator was inclined to garrulity and cheerfulness, she was often taciturn and thoughtful, constantly delving into something mentally.
And as much as I was inclined to garrulity, to simple-hearted cheerfulness, so was she most often taciturn: she was forever thinking about something, forever as though delving into something mentally...
Pure Monday and religious pilgrimages
On the Sunday of Forgiveness, she asked the narrator to come to her apartment after four o'clock. When he arrived, she was dressed in all black: a short astrakhan fur coat, an astrakhan fur hat, and black felt overshoes. She explained that the next day was Pure Monday, the beginning of Lent, and suggested they visit the New Maiden Convent instead of their usual taverns.
"It's already Pure Monday tomorrow, you know," she replied, taking her hand out of her astrakhan fur muff and giving it to me in a black kid glove. "'O Lord and Master of my life...' Do you want to go to the New Maiden Convent?"
She surprised the narrator by revealing she had been to the Rogozhskoye Cemetery that morning to witness the burial of a schismatic archbishop. She described the ancient Russian funeral traditions in detail, showing knowledge of religious terms like "ripidy" and "trikiry." She also mentioned that she often visited Kremlin cathedrals without his knowledge.
They visited the New Maiden Convent together, walking through the cemetery in the peaceful, frosty evening. They stood by the graves of Ertel and Chekhov, and she criticized the design of Chekhov's gravestone. Later, they drove around Moscow looking for Griboyedov's house and eventually went to Yegorov's tavern in Hunters' Row to eat pancakes on the last day before Lent.
At the tavern, she spoke about her love for Russian chronicles and legends, reciting from memory a story about a prince and princess who chose to be buried in a single coffin. When they parted that evening, she surprised him by saying she wanted to attend the Arts Theatre's actors' party the next day, despite having previously called such parties vulgar.
Their final evening together
The next evening, the narrator arrived at her apartment at ten o'clock. He found her standing beside the piano in a black velvet dress that made her appear slimmer and more elegant. Her hair was arranged festively, and she wore diamond earrings that hung down her lightly powdered cheeks. She looked like an oriental beauty from a traditional print.
At the party, she smoked and drank champagne while watching the actors perform. They were approached by Kachalov, who was pale from drink and called her "Princess of Shamakha" while expressing his dislike for the narrator. Later, Sulerzhitsky invited her to dance the polka, and she accepted, dancing skillfully between the tables to the applause of onlookers.
After the party, they drove home in silence through a moonlit blizzard. When they arrived at her building, she unexpectedly asked the narrator to send the coachman away. This surprised him, as she had never before allowed him up to her apartment at night. In the bedroom, she stood before a mirror wearing only slippers, brushing her long black hair.
Her departure and monastic choice
At dawn, the narrator awoke to find her staring at him. She told him she was leaving for Tver that evening and didn't know when she would return. She promised to write about their future as soon as she arrived, and asked him to leave as she was tired. He kissed her hair and left the apartment as the day was breaking.
Two weeks later, he received a short letter from her. She asked him not to expect her anymore or try to find her. She explained that she wouldn't return to Moscow and was becoming a novice, with the possibility of taking the veil later. She begged him not to reply, saying it would only extend their torment.
"I shan't return to Moscow, for the time being I'm going to become a novice, and later I may decide to take the veil... God grant you the strength not to reply to me – it's no use extending and increasing our torment..."
Life after her departure
The narrator honored her request and did not reply. Following her departure, he descended into a period of self-destruction, frequenting the filthiest taverns, drinking heavily, and "sinking lower and lower in every possible way." Gradually, he began to recover, though indifferently and without hope. Almost two years passed after that Pure Monday.
In late 1914, approaching the New Year, on a quiet, sunny evening reminiscent of that unforgettable day, the narrator visited the Archangel Cathedral in the Kremlin. He stood for a long time in the gloom without praying, gazing at the feeble glimmering of the old gold of the iconostasis and the tombstones of the Muscovite Tsars.
Years later: a possible glimpse
After leaving the cathedral, the narrator ordered his cab to go to Ordynka, traveling down dark lanes among gardens as he had done with her. He drove down Griboyedov Lane, crying continuously. On Ordynka, he stopped by the gates of the Convent of Saints Martha and Mary, where he saw carriages in the courtyard and heard the mournful singing of a female choir from the illuminated church.
The yardman at the gates tried to prevent him from entering, explaining that Grand Duchess Yelizaveta Fyodorovna and Grand Duke Dmitry Pavlovich were present. The narrator bribed him with a rouble and entered the courtyard. He saw a procession of icons and banners coming out of the church, followed by the Grand Duchess in white and a line of singing nuns or nurses with candles.
As he watched, one of the women walking in the middle of the procession suddenly raised her head, which was covered with a white veil. Shielding her candle with her hand, she looked into the darkness, seemingly directly at him. The narrator wondered how she could have seen or sensed his presence in the darkness. He turned away and quietly left the gates.
And then one of those walking in the middle suddenly raised her head, which was covered with a white veil, and, blocking out the candle with her hand, she directed the gaze of her dark eyes into the darkness, as though straight at me...